#'you want this period of fighting to be over so you can forgive and forget' MAN. YEAH.

[meezer]

just relistened to the tarot reading I got from jared in march 2021... dude. 😭 two of swords and the hanged man stuck with me the most but the other ones too which I had kind of forgotten... it was the perfect reading tbh it was exactly what I needed to hear and it really helped

description of the situation: two of swords reversed

what I could do about it: five of swords reversed

what I COULDN'T do about it: the chariot

the lesson behind it: 3 of pentacles

how it's gonna turn out: the hanged man

I'm getting so emotional now on behalf of my past self. I know I was listening to this at the time and crying.

[watermelonlovershigh]

Drunk Fighting and Forgiveness {part. 11} (housemate!harry series)

"Do you love me?" {part. 10} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: i normally dislike writing angst but i gotta say, this was fun to write. so if you're into angst you'll love this. enjoy and make sure to reblog and leave your feedback. xoxo

This story contains: drinking alcohol, angst, lying, mentions of past hookups (m/m), jealousy, accusations of homophobia, apologies, forgiveness (kinda)

{ housemate!harry - boyfriend!harry - softrry - bi!harry }

word count- 3,027

For a date night, Harry takes you out to a gay bar where secrets of Harry's past are revealed, turning into misunderstandings and drunk arguments.

Several weeks have passed since that memorable night when both of you openly professed your love for one another, and the period leading up to tonight has been nothing short of amazing. You have been immersed in the honeymoon stage of your relationship; enjoying cozy moments, lots of sex, and regular date nights scheduled at least once a week. The only disagreements you've had were minor, such as Harry occasionally forgetting to put the toilet seat down or your habit of leaving strands of hair on the shower walls. However, that changes tonight.

Breaking your normal Friday routine of a movie with Chinese take-out, you decided to go to a local bar down the street. Have some drinks and dance a little. While you were in the bathroom getting ready, you shouted to Harry, "So which bar are we going to again?"

Harry was hesitant on telling you because he didn't want you to get upset at him. "Um, it's the one on the corner."

"Harry, there are fifty billion corners in London. Which corner?" You weren't nieve. You could tell Harry was trying to avoid answering and it confused you. Why would he be hiding the name of the bar you're about to go to from you.

Huffing from his stance now in the doorway of the bathroom, he answers, "Fine, it's called The Royal Vauxhall Tavern. It's a gay bar."

(i just choose a random gay bar in London from Google. so idk if this is even a good choice or if i described it accurately on the inside or not. let's pretend.)

"Not that I have anything against gay bars Harry, but why? I'd understand if we weren't dating because I'm sure there's tons of hot men you could find to hook-up with. But we are dating, so..... it's just an odd choice."

With a soft tone, Harry enters the bathroom and lovingly cups your cheeks in his large hands, reassuringly saying, "Sweetheart, you're overthinking it. It's just a bar. I've been there in the past and know firsthand that the customer service and music are fantastic. That's why I picked it, alright? Nothin' more than that." However, you soon come to realize that this assertion is completely false.

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

As you entered the bar, it was very nice inside. There were tons of people on the dance floor and several people at the bar. Harry held your hand and walked you over to the two unoccupied seats at the bar so you could order some drinks. You've never been in a gay bar before. Mostly because before Harry, anytime you went out to bars or clubs you were looking for a hook-up and you're sure a gay bar isn't the place for a women to find that.

Right as you sit down, a handsome looking man comes up to you both and recognizes Harry immediately. "Harry, mate, what are you doing back in here? Haven't seen you in ages."

You glance over to see Harry smiling from ear to ear. "Hello, Henry. Hope you're well. Yeah, I've just been busy with work and stuff." That's odd, he didn't even mention you.

"So, who's the lovely lady sitting beside you?" the bartender who's name is Henry, you just discovered, asked.

You were going to answer for yourself when Harry cuts you off, replying, "Oh, m' girlfriend, Y/n. Been datin' officially for about two months now."

Henry looks back to you again and speaks rather loudly due to the blaring music, "Well, hello, Y/n. Welcome. What can I get you two to drink tonight? Your usual, Harry?" So he remembers Harry's drink order.... Interesting.

"Yep, coke and rum and what would you like, Y/n?"

Thinking for a moment, you stick to what you know best. "I'll have a vodka cran, please."

Henry smiles, assuring, "Okay, a coke and rum and a vodka cran coming right up." You and Harry sat there and watched as he made your beverages. The whole time you still had this awful pit in your stomach like something was off but you ignored it, not wanting to spoil your night out with Harry.

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

Having reached your third glass of alcohol, you and Harry have been alternating between dancing and sitting for the past hour. You will admit that you feel somewhat safer in a gay bar, where the likelihood of unwanted attention or being drugged seems lower. Not impossible, just lower.

As you both return to your original seats at the bar, Harry mentions over the loud music that he needs to use the bathroom and tells you to remain seated. Despite his reluctance to let you out of his sight, his bladder cannot wait.

While Harry's gone to the toilet, Henry comes over to you and gets you a refill on your drink. When he returns with a full glass, he begins, "So, Harry, hm. He's lovely isn't he?"

You stare back at him with that pit in your stomach returning. "Um, yeah, he is. How do you know each other again?" Henry never mentioned how he knew Harry and Harry has never mentioned a Henry before either.

"Oh, we go way back. He use to come in here all the time back in his college days, when he was figuring out his sexuality. He didn't have a lot of money to pay for his drinks so I'd cut him a deal if you know what I mean."

"I'm sorry, guess I don't know what you mean." you respond, confused as to what he's trying to get at.

Henry chuckles and proceeds to elaborate, "Back in his uni days when Harry wanted to indulge in alcohol but lacked the funds, he would bring me along to the toilets and give me blowjobs. That's how he managed to cover the cost of his drinks. Although we never pursued a romantic relationship, I suppose you could say we were friends with benefits for a period of time, perhaps in the year... 201..." His sentence abruptly halts as Harry returns from the bathroom. Unaware of your discussion with Henry, Harry becomes perplexed when both of you gaze at him as if he has an unusual mark on his forehead.

To void the awkward tension, Henry grabs Harry's glass to give him another refill without asking and walks away. You're left there, stunned. Not that you cared what Harry use to do before you got together, but the fact that he brought you here, to this specific bar, where his ex friends with benefits worked, well, you find it kind of odd. Especially now thinking back to earlier when he was hesitant to tell you which bar you were going to.

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

After staying an hour more, you began feeling the urge to leave. The new piece of information has stirred up intense emotions within you. Despite your attempts to mask your anger, every time Henry approached to offer more refills, you couldn't shake the feeling that he was flirting with Harry. The uncomfortable knowledge of their past interactions made it difficult for you to sit and watch.

You briskly walk down the streets with Harry a few feet behind you, trying to catch up to you. You were both pretty drunk but not so drunk you couldn't walk straight. Just too drunk to drive. Hence why you're walking home. "Y/n, wait up. Is somethin' the matter? You seem mad at me."

You stop abruptly on the sidewalk and turn back to look at your boyfriend. Angerly, you question, "Why did you really bring me to that bar, Harry?"

Confused, Harry begins, "Baby, I've already told....."

"No, I don't believe you. I think it has something to do with that Henry guy. I know what the two of you use to do. He told me while you were in the bathroom."

Harry quietly curses to himself, feeling more ashamed than anything else. He fails to understand why bringing you there was a problem. His current concern is that you are now aware of a secret he had been keeping - the secret of his college partying days. He was poor and had just started exploring his sexuality. So one day when he went into that specific bar, he met Henry and well, you know the rest.

"Y/n, that was years ago. We never dated or anythin'. I really only saw him maybe once every two months. It's not my proudest moment but all my friends could afford to go out partyin' on Friday nights and I couldn't. So I did what I had to do to fit in."

Turning back around to continue walking, you exhale loudly and speak again. "Do you really think I'm angry about that? Because I'm not. I don't give a shit what you use to do before we started our relationship."

Not thinking clearly due to the alcohol running through his system, Harry fights back, "Is it because it was with a man, Y/n? Is this how m' findin' out you're homophobic?"

You come to a halt once more, but remain looking ahead. That hurt. You're not homophobic in the slightest. Unlike the tales Harry has recounted about his previous partners who were unaccepting of his bisexuality, you have always been different. You have consistently shown support for Harry's sexuality since he shared it with you. Initially, you assumed he was gay because during the first few weeks of living together, he only brought men home. However, one day he brought a woman home instead.

Raising your voice slightly, you argue, "I can't believe you're asking if I'm homophobic. You know I have always been a strong advocate for your sexuality. What really irks me is that you deliberately selected that bar for us to visit. The bar where you used to engage in transactions with the bartender to settle your bills. And now, he was the one serving us throughout the evening."

"Y/n, yes I knew he still worked there but I didn't know if he was workin' tonight, let alone he'd be waitin' on us. How was I supposed to know that?"

Underneath a lamp post on the side of the street, you continue to bicker, knowing bystanders are surely watching your drunk dispute. "Whether you did or not, you still choose to bring me there. Just tell me one more thing Harry, did he charge you the full amount for our drinks tonight or did he give you a discount?"

When Harry didn't reply right away, you already knew the answer and resumed your journey towards home. "Y/n, please wait," he quickly catches up to you, "I didn't even ask him to do it. You know I have enough financial stability to pay the full amount now. He simply offered us a discount without any prompting, and I didn't argue against it. But obviously, this time it was just the discount, not any favors in return. I would never do that to you."

You made the decision to remain silent for the remainder of your journey home. The thought of engaging in further arguments no longer appealed to you. All you desired was to change out of your dress and remove your makeup before going to bed. Despite his reluctance, Harry also chose to stay quiet. He ensured that you were by his side throughout the entire walk, fearing that you might unintentionally wander onto the wrong street or encounter a stranger who could potentially harm you. Even with the ongoing conflict, your love for each other remained intact.

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

Upon your arrival home, you immediately proceeded to your bedroom and closed the door behind yourself. Without hesitation, you began changing out of your dress and into more comfortable clothing. Your intentions were to stay in your room for the rest of the night, until the realization hit that there was no bathroom inside your bedroom. So, you're forced to leave your room in order to wash your face and brush your teeth.

Harry settles onto the sofa and quietly thinks about his actions tonight. Reflecting on the situation, he now understands why you feel the way you do. It was inappropriate of him to take you to the bar where he used to sleep with the fucking bartender. Despite all of that, the bar itself had a good reputation. That's why he went there frequently in the past, regardless of his actions there.

Though it's not an excuse, he genuinely didn't know if Henry was working tonight. Harry hasn't communicated with Henry in over eight months and their last sexual encounter was even longer than that. He honestly selected a gay bar for tonight to avoid straight men giving you unwanted attention. He would have gotten jealous. However, he unintentionally caused you to feel jealous, and for that he's deeply sorry.

As you exit your bedroom and make your way to the bathroom, Harry turns his head. He contemplates standing up to apologize, but chooses to delay it until you've finished your business. Meanwhile, he gets up and heads to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water and a pain reliever for the headache he assumes you'll have in the morning. Just as he's about to finish, you emerge from the bathroom and return to your room.

Hesitantly, Harry walks up to your bedroom door and and knocks softly. Still in your drunk, grumpy state, you shout out, "What?"

"Um, I've got you some water you need to drink and somethin' to help with your impendin' headache."

"Fine, come in." you grant him permission to come in while you remain in bed. As he approaches, carrying a glass of water and a pill, you carefully take the water from his hands, and he places the pill on your nightstand, ensuring you have it in the morning.

When you've drank all you wanted, Harry grabs the glass back from you, setting it down beside your bed and begins saying, "I'd like to apologize."

Wanting to make sure he knows what he's apologizing for, you ask, "For what?"

Harry sits down on the edge of the bed and admits, "M' sorry for takin' you to that particular bar where I used to see the bartender. I honestly didn't realize he'd be workin' tonight, but that's no excuse. I just thought, if I took you to a gay bar that straight men wouldn't hit on you and make me jealous. But that was selfish of me. So again, m' truly sorry, Y/n."

The first part of his apology was fine, but that third sentence reignited your frustration. "Harry, what about you, huh? By us going to a gay bar, I have to face the potential of men flirting with you. But really flirting can occur in any setting, whether it's a gay bar or a straight one. That shouldn't have influenced your choice to go there."

Slapping his hand across his forehead, Harry nods. "I know, I know. M' sorry for that too. I honestly just wanted a fun night out with m' girlfriend but ruined it. Next time I'll let you choose where we go. But just so you know, if I see one of your ex's and they bring up what the two of you use to do, m' gonna be pissed as well." You could tell his last sentence was made with a playful tone, though deep down you know he's being serious.

You release a loud yawn and respond, your voice filled with drowsiness, "Okay, that'll make us even. I'm still a little upset with you though, so it would be best if you left now. Please sleep in your own room tonight." Despite having the thought that you might want to sleep separately, he hoped that after apologizing, you would reconsider. However, your stubbornness proves to be a hindrance, as you are not willing to forgive him that easily.

With a frown on Harry's face, he gets up from the bed and bends down to kiss your forehead before walking out of the room. As he leaves, he reminds you, "If you need anythin', just wake me up. I love you."

He hears a quiet "love you, too" right when he shuts your door and exhales, relieved that you're not mad enough to not say 'I love you' to him. Because if you were, he'd have been devastated,

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

Around four in the morning, you awaken to the realization that sleeping apart was a mistake. You haven't slept apart since before you shared your feelings for one another and you miss him. You miss cuddling with him. Finding out you both were cuddlers was one of the best possible outcomes as you started developing your relationship. It meant you were very compatible in that way.

You get out of bed and head towards Harry's room across the hallway. As quietly as you can, you open his creaky door to find him lying on his side, a pillow hugged to his chest, turned away from you. He's now use to holding you throughout the night, so his pillow had to make do since you rejected him earlier.

Closing the door gently, you approach his bed and carefully peel back the covers, not wanting to disturb his sleep. Harry only wakes up when he senses you moving closer. You carefully pull the pillow out of his arms and replace it with yourself, burying your face in his chest. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your back once he realizes it's you who's joined him, muttering in a gravelly voice, "Hi, baby."

Still very sleepy, you speak in a whisper, "Shh, sleepy. Just missed you s'all."

"It's okay, m'love. Go back to sleep. You can always cuddle me. Missed your cuddles, too." Harry's half conscious as he spoke but he's aware of what he said. He did miss your cuddles. He had to fight with himself just to stay put in his bed and not slip into yours. He just wanted to respect your wishes and not make you even angrier with him. It only takes mere seconds for you both to pass out again. All the alcohol you consumed the night before helping aid in that.

You know you have forgiven Harry but he isn't off the hook that easily. For his bad behavior, you'll just have to punish him. Give him what he deserves. 😏

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

"You've been a real, bad, boy." {part. 12}

[sakuralovespossums]

Human master shake x fem reader headcanons cuz why not

This might be my most cringe post yet. DO NOT READ THIS!!!

How it started/general HCs

Prbly met on the streets or at a grocery store. You found his awful flirting funny and kinda cute

You better have a TON of patience if your gonna be with him

Your relationship isn’t the healthiest (what did you expect? It’s shake) but it’s stable enough

Arguments are so common that’s it’s pretty much part of how you communicate with his stubborn ass. He knows not to push it too far tho out of fear of your wrath

I can see him French kissing you while you’re yelling at him to make you shut up. Sometimes it works. Most times he gets his ass beaten

Will randomly call you to either brag about himself, demand ask when you’ll make him food, or ask for nudes. Doesn’t care how late it is or how busy you are

Total tsundere

Has the nerve to act annoyed when you try to cuddle/kiss him, yet act all jealous when he sees you talking to anyone who isn’t him

Brushes off any PDA to maintain his “image” but will return it if he’s feeling really needy or wants to show you off to everyone

Acts all pathetic and soft when you guys are alone, begging for forgiveness

He’s such an ass. But also so pathetically adorable. He’s your adorably pathetic ass of a boyfriend

You used to worry about him whenever he’d show up looking bloodied and beaten up from whatever dangerous shit he got into because of his stupid ego. Now your just used to it

Meatwad really likes you and you see him as a younger brother much to shake’s jealousy

You and frylock also get along well. At first he thought you were brainwashed or held captive by shake before realizing you genuinely like him. He still worries over you and scolds shake about being a better bf

Shake especially hates it when your near Carl cuz he’s always trying to hit on you

When you met Ezekiel, he quickly saw you as his mommy and kept taking your attention away from shake, making him hate the kid even more

He is such a huge perv

NSFW HCs

Like this guy is so handsy that it’s annoying

Will smack or grope your ass whenever he can

Pulls your bra straps or panties to see them snap and make your tits or ass jiggle

I can see him fondling your tits like a stress ball without even noticing

Will stuff his face in between them to “hide” from frylock when he’s in trouble

Destroys all your sex toys because why the hell would you still use them when you have him?!

“Shake, have you seen my rose toy?”

*Sees him burning it and your other toys with a flame thrower*

Sex with shake was messy at first since you had to teach him how to actually pleasure a woman and that it’s not just about him getting off

Gets off on hearing you praise him

He tops whenever he’s feeling jealous or extra needy for attention (so quiet often)

Becomes super cuddly and kissy kissy during after-care, kissing your fresh hickies while fondling you

He denies ever acting that way later when you bring it up

A good way to grab his full attention is to mention a blow job

He rarely bothers to shave (eww)

Theres def been moments where frylock walked in while you two were doing it

Both you and frylock were embarrassed while shake was just annoyed

Forgets to wear a condom often

Good thing you take birth control

When your on your period

Shake def acts like a middle school boy hearing about periods for the first time

Avoids you like the plague cuz he doesn’t wanna deal with you when your being way moodier than normal

Unless it includes making you extra affectionate. He will gladly accept your kisses, cuddles, and sweet words with a goofy grin

Brings home the wrong pills when you tell him to go by cramp pills

I can see him staring and poking at you as you’re curled up on his lap. You fight the urge to strangle him as another cramp hits you

After being together for a while, he gets somewhat used to it and just lets you lean on him as he watches TV

Living together

Hope you know what your getting yourself into once you let shake live with you

It will never be peaceful again

He will leave your place a total mess

You get complaints from your neighbors/landlord about the heavy metal blasting from your house/apartment room all the time

Better store up on a lot of food cuz he will ransack your whole fridge

Makes up for it by cooking you meals in his pink apron (it’s canon he can cook)

Takes up almost your entire bed. It’s fine since his fat gut is already your own mattress

You wonder how you haven’t gone deaf from his loud ass snoring

You wake up trapped in his arms as he clings onto you, nibbling on your shoulder. You elbow him sharply when he drools on you

You like to wear one of his shirts when going out. It’s a lot bigger on you, so you tuck it in

Going out on dates or running errands with him is an……interesting experience

Everyone still wonders how the hell he managed to pull you

[queen-haq]

Fic: Grudgingly Yours - Part 10

Grudgingly Yours, Part 10

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A  - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

Chapter 10

You were irritated beyond belief, but you reminded yourself to stay calm. Six weeks. It took six weeks for Alistair to agree to meet you. His avoidance and refusal to see you was intentional, your punishment for daring to speak up when he was bitching out Billy and then ignoring him. In hindsight, you should have kept your mouth shut and minded your own business. But that was the past, and there was nothing you could do to change it. Now you just had to eat crow and make amends so you could move on with your fucking life.

After another twenty minutes of waiting in Alistair’s home office, he walked in. His slow gait, supported by the ebony walking stick, may have made him look weak and fragile – but it was a ruse. This man was brutal and ruthless, and you couldn’t afford to forget that.

“Such a surprise to find you here.” His tone was cold as ice as he took a seat across from you. Obviously he wasn’t just going to get to the point, he wanted to put you through the wringer for talking back to him.

“I apologize for ignoring your calls after the party.”

His disapproval was evident, his tone dripping with scorn. “Yes. You did that, didn’t yo?”

Maybe he expected you to beg and plead for his forgiveness but that wasn’t your style. Besides, he’d be ecstatic at the reason you were here. “We both know this arrangement hasn’t worked out like we hoped.”

“Indeed.”

“So it’s best that we cut our losses and move on, don’t you think? I’ll happily sign the divorce papers as soon as you can get your lawyers to draw them up.”

Alistair simply stared at you, no emotions on his face. “I suppose you expect the same payment of $5 Million?”

You cocked your eyebrow. “I deserve more for putting up with your asshole grandson, but I’ll settle for $3 Million instead.” Frankly, you were willing to walk away with nothing but Alistair didn’t need to know that.

“It hasn’t even been a year of marriage and you expect more than half the amount?”

“I’m willing to negotiate.”

A cold smile fell on his lips, and it made the hair stand on the back of your neck. “There will be no negotiation. You will stay married to him, as agreed upon, for a period of three years. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You stared at him dumbfounded. Was he fucking with you? You thought he’d jump at the offer. The most pushback you expected was about the divorce settlement, but it never occurred to you he’d force you to stay married. No, absolutely fucking not. “You can find someone else to punish your grandson.”

“I’ve already spent considerable time sourcing you. That was enough.”

“I’m not the kind of woman who follows orders, Alistair. I’m trouble. I fight back. And you don’t want that, you want someone who obeys. So there’s no need to prolong this bullshit arrangement.”

Alister raised his eyebrow, drawing your attention to the uncanny family resemblance that existed in the Russo family. “You will do as I say when I say it. You will be at my beck and call and ready to do my bidding.” A cold sneer settled over his lips, like he was enjoying this.

Disgusted, you stood up. “I’m not your fucking servant.”

“Sit down, cunt!”

The stark hatred in his voice stunned you frozen. His face was red with anger, his dark eyes flashing with pure vitriol. “You think I’ll let some dirty whore belittle me and get away with it?” He shook his head ‘no’. “You’re nothing. Less than nothing. A fucking cotton-picker. The only reason you’re here is to knock some sense into my goddamn grandson. So you’ll do your fucking part and you’ll behave. And if you don’t, I’ll make sure you and your dirty pack of monkeys pay.”

His racist tirade shouldn’t have been a surprise. You dealt with microaggressions your entire life but to have it be so explicitly thrown in your face, that too by someone whose life you saved in the operating room – that was a bitter pill too swallow.

A deceptive calm settled over you. “You will regret this, Alistair.”

His demeaning smile was like salt on your wounds. “We’ll see.”

You watched after him as he made his way out of the room.

***

Calvin was on his phone, sitting up in bed next to you. Sheets were gathered around his waist, his chest bare. It was almost a year since you saw him last and in that time he’d gotten more buff. That was definitely a pleasant surprise. Smiling, you snuggled up to him and he squeezed your arm in return.

It was so easy with him. It always was. The relationship, the sex, the friendship. Even the fickin’ breakup in college had been smooth. That’s because Calvin didn’t play games. He wasn’t romantic or thoughtful – or faithful - but you knew exactly where you stood with him and that’s what mattered the most. Besides, you weren’t looking to be in a committed relationship. The no strings thing worked for you and satisfied all of your expectations, and you were happy with it.

"Still can’t believe you’re married.”

Calvin’s words brought you out of your reverie. “It’s a marriage of convenience. Nothing more.”

“Who does that shit these days?”

You scoffed. “Like you would’ve said no.”

“Maybe not but I’d be worried. What if I ended up with a psycho? Or some ugly hag?”

“Oh no, not that,” you deadpanned.

He gathered you in his arms. “That’s a guy’s worst nightmare. Stuck with an ugly wife.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Hey, it’s not like I called you ugly.”

“Yeah, I’m so lucky.”

He laughed, hugging you tightly. “No, it’s Billy Russo who’s lucky. He could’ve gotten stuck with pure ghetto trash. Instead he got a queen like you.”

You grimaced, hearing Billy's name but Calvin didn't seem to notice. Instead he angled forward to kiss you as your mind dwelled on his words. As flattering as they were, the Russos didn’t share the sentiment. To them you were nothing, less than that. And there was no way you'd stay connected to them.

Despite Alistair's threats, you were going to find a way out.

***

“What do you think?” Calvin asked.

The two of you were out for dinner at a new restaurant Calvin was excited to try. He was supposed to leave yesterday but had extended his trip, which you were originally happy about. Unfortunately Calvin’s finance bro side was out in full-force and he was trying to sell you on some stocks.

You studied the financial records in front of you, trying to focus. While you could easily get through pages and pages of anatomy and physiology textbooks, finance was never your thing. But even you understood that the return in your investments Calvin was promising seemed too good to be true. “I’m not sure. I need time to think.” Which meant Ritu, one of your closest friends and a genius at this stuff, would be vetting the records for you.

“What? You don’t trust me?” The same dazzling smile that hooked your attention from the moment you met graced his face. “Think I’m hustling you?” He winked.

You shut the folder, biting down on your bottom lip. “Not making any deals when I’m hungry.”

He laughed, dragging the menu closer to him. “What do you want to eat?” You were still deciding when he spoke next. “How about lobster? Been craving it.”

You shook your head, not at all surprised. “Sure. Been dying for an anaphylactic shock.”

“Shit. I forgot you’re allergic.”

“You always do.”

“But I mean, I can have it. Right? It’s not like you’re going to start wheezing if it’s on the table.”

You sighed, shaking your head. They had this conversation every few years, because Calvin couldn’t bother to remember the details. Which was another reason why he was a friend and nothing more. “You can have it. I just won’t kiss you for the next few hours.”

“Oh, it’s like that?”

His eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned down to give you soft, staccato kisses on your lips. “Totally,” you murmured, kissing him back.

“Technically we don’t need to kiss to fuck,” he murmured.

You pushed him away, giggling. “Or maybe you can go fuck yourself.”

He laughed, nodding at the waiter to get his attention. After the two of you put in your orders, his phone rang. “I have to take this.” Calvin slid out of the cozy booth and headed outside, leaving you alone.

Out of boredom, you started flipping through the statements again. Like that wasn’t bad enough, you took a sip of his bourbon to see if you’d acquired a taste for it. Immediately you put it down. Nope, absolutely not. You hated the stuff. Swallowing the liquid, you were about to reach for a glass of water when a familiar face slid into your booth. Immediately you froze.

Billy.

Eyes bloodshot, face weary, fatigue marked his features like he hadn’t slept in weeks. His beard was a bit fuller, not as neatly trimmed, and hair a bit longer. The scruffed-up look should have been a deterrent to his good looks but it proved to be the opposite. Even in his green bomber jacket and casual get-up, he looked like a GQ model.

Your heart pounded in your chest, you wanted to bolt. But you didn’t. Because running would mean he affected you and he absolutely didn’t. Not anymore. You learned your lesson from your last encounter with him.

“Disappointed to see me alive?”

Your voice was calm and steady, just like your heart would soon be. “Couldn’t care less actually.”

His molten eyes narrowed onto your face. “I went through hell to come home but you weren’t there. The place was empty.”

You swirled the liquid around in the glass before taking a sip again. This time you were numb to the bitter taste.

“Anita said you moved out weeks ago.”

Your gaze lifted to meet his. “What do you want, Billy?”

“We need to talk.”

“About?”

His eyebrow quirked up in surprise. Maybe he was expecting tears or some kind of angry showdown, but you were prepared to give him nothing.

“You’re pissed at me,” he said after a few seconds of silence.

“No. Why would I be?”

He paused, peering at you closely. “How I left Curtis’s wedding, I want to explain-”

“There’s no need.” Head tilted to the side, you casually ran fingers through your hair. “It doesn’t matter and I don’t really care.”

“Bullshit.” His dark eyes bore into yours, trying to forge some kind of connection. “You care. That’s why you’re here.” His head nudged in the direction of the door. “With that fuckhead.”

Rage rushed through you like wildfire but you refused to give into the chaos. He didn’t deserve any kind of emotional outbursts from you. He deserved nothing. Leveling him with a fixed gaze, which took all of your resolve, you responded in a steady tone. “Don’t insult my friends.”

“Yeah but he’s not just a friend, is he? He’s more than that. You’re fucking him!” He gritted through clenched teeth.

You leaned back in your seat. “And how is that any of your business?”

“Say it. Admit that you’re fucking him.”

Pure menace laced his voice but underneath the danger you also sensed hurt, like he was in pain – and you didn’t understand why, you couldn’t wrap your mind around it. He was the one who humiliated you. He’s the one who walked away. And now he was here demanding answers like he had a right to you or something. Fuck that. You weren’t going to play this game with him.

You crossed your elbows, straightening your back.

Two months ago you opened yourself up to him, letting him in a way you rarely had with anyone else. Despite all your reservations about his behaviour, despite your insecurities. You used to think you could trust your instincts about people because they never guided you wrong. Your instincts screamed Billy was safe, that he could be trusted, that he wouldn’t hurt you - and then you were swiftly proven wrong when he absolutely shattered you.

You hated him. Despised him. Because of him, you could no longer trust yourself and you could never forgive him for that.

And he would never know anything about you again or how you felt. He’d never have that power over you again. “What I do with Calvin, if I fuck him, how I fuck him, when I fuck him – none of that concerns you, Billy.”

Suddenly he reached across the table, grasping your face, the desperation in his eyes startling you. “You’re my goddamn wife!”

Voice exposing none of your tumultuous emotions, you wrung his hand away from your face. “On paper. That’s all. And only because your grandfather promised me the good life.”

He didn’t release his grip on you, his fingers intertwined with yours. “In the beginning, yeah. But things changed.”

You gave him a perfectly perfunctory smile that belied all the anger and hurt swirling through you. “Nothing changed.”

Billy squeezed your fingers. “Don’t lie to me.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Once a golddigger, always a golddigger. We don’t change our ways.”

“What’s going on here?” Calvin asked.

Shit.

His return caught you by surprise, you totally forgot about him. Immediately you retracted your hand from Billy while Calvin’s eyes wandered from you to him. His return was a blessing in disguise because he distracted Billy, giving you the opportunity to compose yourself.  You could still feel the heat of Billy’s touch on your skin, like he’d branded you permanently. You wanted to cut him out, out of your life, out of your mind, out of every crevice in your soul he’d managed to sneak into and embed himself.

“Is everything okay?” Calvin asked, looking at you.

“Everything’s fine.” You gave him your most flirtatious smile before casting a quick glance at Billy. “You’re interrupting our date. Please leave.”

Billy leaned back in his seat, still watching you intently before a sneer curved his lips. Finally he shifted his focus to Calvin, the snide smile on his face growing more prominent. A smug prick through and through, and you wanted to slap the smirk off his face.

Not one to back down from a fight, Calvin stared back at him. “She asked you to leave.”

Billy snickered, amused. You expected him to be a little intimidated by Calvin’s muscular frame but he didn’t seem the least bit threatened, irking you. His gaze finally returned to you, his hands sliding into the pockets of his bomber jacket. Only few minutes earlier he was playing the part of jilted lover, and now he was right back to being the entitled asshole that he really was.  

“I fucked up before, so this right here?” He drew a circle in the air with his fingers.  “I’ll give you a pass for this fuckface. But it ends here. Tonight.”

“Who the fuck you think you’re talking to?” Calvin roared, taking a step toward Billy.

You grabbed Calvin’s arm. He was ready for a fight but Billy remained seated, grinning, like he was enjoying this. “Ignore him,” you urged Calvin.

“This one needs a tighter leash, sweetheart,” Billy taunted.

Seeing that Calvin was about to pounce, you pulled him into the booth to sit beside you. Snuggling closer to Calvin, you linked your hand with his. “Go away. You’re not wanted here.”

Billy’s attention shifted from you to Calvin. In an instant his smarminess was gone, replaced with a sinister expression that made the hair stand up on the back of your neck. “End things with my wife. Tonight.” The quietness of his voice contradicted the full malice in his tone. “Because if I see you with her again?” He slid out of the booth in one fluid motion, rising to his full height. His stature was foreboding, his words hostile. “I’ll kill you.”

He swaggered away as quickly as he appeared, leaving you and Calvin watching after him.

“You should’ve let me take a swing at him,” Calvin griped.

You scooted away to put some distance between you and him. Your throat felt dry, your nerves on edge. Seeing Billy again, talking to him, it unleased all of the emotions you’d buried after he left you. You swigged back a glass of water.

“Thought you said he was cool with everything. Why was he being a punk then?”

You rubbed your temple, closing your eyes. “Because he’s bored and this is a game to him.”

“Do I have to worry about this asshole?”

You turned to look at him. “Of course not. Someone else will come along to distract him.”

“Are you sure?” Calvin asked.

“Yes,” you said with certainty. Spotting the server bringing food your way, you bit down on your lip. “Can we grab this to go? I just want to go back to the hotel room.”

“Thought you were hungry.”

You sighed. “I lost my appetite.”

***

The moment you and Calvin returned to his room, you jumped him. Kissing him roughly, grinding your hips against his. You needed to forget every trace of Billy and Calvin could do that for you. His mouth claimed yours, his body holding you down on the bed. You closed your eyes, letting the pleasure take over.

You needed this, you needed him.

Because losing yourself was the only way to get Billy out of your mind.

***

Few days later you returned to the Airbnb you were staying at. Eventually Alistair would force you to return to the penthouse but until then you were doing short-term rentals. After coming back from the wedding, you couldn’t stand to live in the same place you shared with Billy. So you’d grabbed a bunch of your clothes and necessities and found somewhere else to stay. The one-bedroom condo was definitely not on the same level as the penthouse, but you liked it. It was small and cozy and had everything you needed.

You glanced down at your phone. Still no texts from Calvin. You were supposed to meet him for dinner at Carbone but he hadn’t showed up. That in itself wasn’t surprising. He had a tendency to forget plans or run late most of the time, but usually he texted. Oh well.

You flicked on the light switch in the kitchen but nothing happened. Great. You’d have to contact the host to get the bulb replaced. Walking over to the cabinet, you reached up to grab a glass and strolled over to the fridge to get some water.

You were almost done with the drink when you felt a strange sensation sweep through you. Like you weren’t alone in the apartment. Like you were being watched.

You paused. Knives were two cabinets over. Too far. But you had a glass in your hand.

“Miss me, sweetheart?”

Billy. His low, raspy voice was coming from behind you.

You took a slow, deep breath and then whirled around to attack him.

To be continued...

A/N - As always, thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts. Feedback keeps me going and I appreciate every comment and reblog you guys throw my way.

Next chapter - we'll finally get Billy's POV :)

[falsemilkbun]

Haven't You Heard the Word of Your Body? (ch. 1 rough draft)

I enjoy sharing process stuff and I'm still on my forty eight hour handgun purchase wait for my archive of our own account, so here's a rough draft of the first chapter of my run at applying a variation on omegaverse to elves. There's no inny-outy in this part, no one has boobs, I can put it on here...

This kept happening. They would encounter a monster, a fight would ensue, and the captain would deplete his mana stores because, as Kabru was learning through experience, he was no good at judging his own limits. He would march past the point of exhaustion. He would forget - or, worse, refuse - food and water. He was an absolute pain to put down to sleep. All these things had become Kabru’s responsibility, at least for the week it took Captain Mithrun’s team to reach them down in the depths of the dungeon.

It was getting worse, too. He grew weaker every time, and the periods during which he could be considered recovered got shorter and shorter. On that day, it had already happened twice when Kabru found himself ducking under Mithrun’s swooning body to catch him. Elves were lightweight, which was a blessing of a kind, but he was dead weight this time. His arms had lost the strength, or maybe the coordination, or even both, to grip anything. He couldn’t be slung over Kabru’s back, he had to be carried folded up against his chest like a little child. The most the Canaries’ captain could manage was to curl his body inward, pressing his pained face against Kabru’s chestplate.

This was more serious than mana exhaustion. He was sick, and Kabru had even less experience in nursing than he had in cooking.

The sweat crystalizing to his hair and the way his breath turned bright, solid white were visible signals but Kabru could feel the fever burning through the body in his arms. How long had he been sick? Was it the cold, or had he been unwell for days and never realized or said anything?

No matter. In the present moment, Kabru needed solutions to problems and not answers to questions, and the solution to their main problem would be finding a place to rest.

It didn’t take long to find one. He must have really wanted it.

Even if Mithrun had warned him not to want for too much, how could he be expected to stop? He had needs, and unlike Mithrun his mind and his heart registered them.

The shelter that the dungeon provided for them was too perfect. The rough wooden door was ajar, even, and he didn’t even have to set Mithrun down to toe it open and step inside. It as a lot like a sparse, one-room home, though the exterior consisted of little more than a shingled outcropping from the dungeon wall that shielded a pile of firewood from the ever-falling snow.

It wasn’t frigid in the shelter, but it certainly wasn’t toasty warm, either.

There was a bed, a narrow one dressed sparingly in a sheet over straw bedding, and he rolled Mithrun on to this. The elf immediately curled in on himself as if in pain, and Kabru asked his forgiveness to get water and light a lamp so that he could start treating him. 

Water was easy. The dungeon had provided it in the form of a basin on the floor that filled endlessly from the stone mouth of a spigot in the wall in the shape of a lion’s head. It was clear and cool and Kabru used it to soak the spare articles of clothes he could spare from his pack. He wasn’t thinking about fever so much as heatstroke when he did this, but he was forced by necessity to assume that the conditions were similar enough that he might as well try. He left the soaked rags draping over the edge of the basin and used a stout sprig of straw from the bed and the fire starter in his pack to light the  lamps on the walls.

Mithrun was watching him now, he discovered. His face was in full red flush and his eye was wide.

“It’s all right,” Kabru said, out of habit. He couldn’t be sure Mithrun knew or cared he was in danger. He stooped by the bed and pushed on Mithrun’s shoulder to turn him over onto his back. There was no resistance. “I have to remove some of your clothes to treat you. Is that all right?”

No response. Mithrun’s eye had closed again, and he seemed most focused on drawing and expelling breath and enduring whatever pain was subtly contorting his face. He did experience discomfort, Kabru had observed, just not any immediate motivation to resolve it.

“Captain?” He had to try again.

Nothing. No acknowledgement but a gasp that shuddered through him and dramatically raised his slight chest. Sometimes, having been raised with elves, KAbru could forget how small they were, how frail they looked. What he’d mistaken for uncharacteristic toughness on Mithrun’s part had been a lack of care for his own wellbeing, after all. Elves weren’t hardy, the danger to him was very real.

Well. If it turned out that losing his clothes was the one thing he could still care about, then he could be angry about it later.

“Whatever.” Kabru sighed. Mithrun wasn’t even opening his eye at that point. If he was going to be speaking to himself alone, there wasn’t any need for considerate speech. 

He exposed Mithrun’s throat first, then wrestled him lightly around to pull his tunic over his head. Mithrun cringed when he touched him, but there was no way to be sure if he did this as any kind of protest to the treatment. Kabru convinced himself, for the sake of having the wherewithal to continue, that he was simply dazed and uncomfortable. All he knew was someone was manhandling him and shifting him around when his body needed rest, that was all.

And even if it wasn’t…

But it was. It couldn’t be anything else. 

The expanse of Mithrun’s body left bare by the Canary armor under his tunic was scattered with pale scars. He was like Milsril, chewed up by his dedication to the Canaries’ cause. The slim lines where his skin had knitted itself back together caught the light from the lamps and turned it silvery.

That was routine enough. He was a soldier, his career was impossibly long to Kabru’s mind. It shouldn’t be distracting.

Kabru stripped the upper portion of Mithrun’s armor next, and the silver-threaded flesh of his chest swelled and rose to his palm when he slid a hand under the stiffened spider silk to lift it away. It was firm and smooth and furnace hot.

Behind the wall of his ribcage, his heartbeat was frantic.

There really was something wrong with his body, not just his attitude, like Kabru had suspected. There had to be. This was too sudden and severe for any other explanation to apply. Wracking his brain for any monstrous or magical effects that could bring on such a condition turned up nothing.

Was he simply frail after all he’d been through, pushing past his compromised stamina to achieve the only goal he had left? He looked it, flushed and breathless and half-stripped on a bed built for one person almost twice his size.

The cool air in the shelter would help, surely.

Kabru went to the basin and took two cloths back to the bed, a smaller one to drape across Mithrun’s throat and a broader one to put under his arms and across his chest. The chill must have shocked him, because his eyebrows knotted up and he made a sound like someone trying to cry out in their sleep.

“Easy, I’m helping you.” He felt like his foster mother in that moment, speaking to him before he trusted her. Patient and kind. Even if he’d never go ‘home’ to her if he could help it, he couldn’t convince himself that her love for him wasn’t genuine. Or that he was echoing her words out of sheer habit. “You’ll start to feel better soon. Just lie still and don’t stress your body any further.”

He took water from the basin in one of the tin cups in his mess kit and coaxed Mithrun into sitting up enough to drink from it without choking. Or, really, he scooped and hoisted him into such a position and let the hot frame of his body rest against him while he drank. His eye, open but just barely, was a watchful sliver reflecting the light like his scars had. He seemed just a little more lucid, and Kabru felt proud.

“Captain?”

No words, but the tarnished circle of Mithrun’s iris did glide in the direction of Kabru’s face. He could at least recognize that Kabru was speaking to him. That was a good sign.

He brought him more water and wet down the cloth for his throat again. When he returned to Mithrun’s side, he found himself pressed on by a body insistent that he hold it up with his own.

Was he one of those people who got needy when they were sick? That would be bothersome.

“Are you cold?” Kabru asked. 

Waves the color of fog rasped on steel when Mithrun shook his head. He was looking up at Kabru again, his expression open in a way Kabru might have called expectant if he believed Mithrun could expect anything from anyone.

“Lie down, then.” Kabru helped him. “I’m going to finish… dressing you for sleep, if that’s all right. Is it?”

“Yes.” The word was almost a breath, but it came without hesitation or consideration. He’d been understood, whatever faculties Mithrun had for protecting his dignity were engaged.

The rest of the armor came off, then Mithrun’s boots, and the hose he laced these over. Mithrun twisted and drew hissing breaths all through this process, but he didn’t explicitly protest.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Then stop squirming.” Kabru let the last of Mithrun’s proper clothes drop to the floor. The first thing he noticed once that was done was a dramatic splotch of wetness soaking through his underpants. On the one hand, this felt like an inevitable escalation. On the other, cleaning another grown man up like a toddler was almost too much to tolerate.

Still, Kabru couldn’t get angry if he tried. It was no one’s fault. Mithrun was unwell and couldn’t care for himself besides, and Kabru was still learning how to care for him. It was fine.

Really.

If he didn’t keep reminding himself of that, he was going to lose it before the week was out.

There was clean water, there were things that counted as wash cloths if he didn’t think too hard about it, and it would be unconscionable to not help him.  He hooked his thumbs in the sides of Mithrun’s underpants and pulled down hard, shocked but not unpleasantly when Mithrun lifted his hips to help him. If that was all, it would have been fine.

Mithrun’s head rolled back, exposing the underside of his chin, and he breathed a sigh that carried his voice. The cloth unstuck itself from him and came away with a shivering strand of viscous fluid clinging to it. 

Kabru, even under pain of torture in the West, would only ever have admitted to looking for a fraction of a second. That may not help his case, considering that elves were primarily hairless past their necklines and this left absolutely nothing up for interpretation. 

This would have marked him as a bastard for certain. No noble house would try to solicit matches for such a son, so they hardly appeared except in cases of infidelity. It was their bodies that did the soliciting, and they did it in a way that was not within their control. And they did it with men. Such a son wouldn’t be a pruned branch on the family tree, but the quality of any grafts couldn’t be assured. He would be an inconvenience, and a shame besides.

Kabru had heard - reading on the topic was scarce, for predictable reasons - several accounts of what was done with these sons. A mother in dire need might sell him. A family lacking in conscience might abandon him with another family and call it charity. If he were lovely and fair like his mother, they might put him to other purposes besides the maintenance of the lineage.

Press him into service of the Queen, good service doing good work. And if he died, well, he died as an expression of the house’s loyalty. His contribution could be controlled in this way.

“I’m sorry!” The anger that had risen up from Kabru’s chest and into his head bled through into the words and made them sound strange. He had to try again, even if Mithrun wouldn’t care. “Captain, forgive me, I didn’t realize. Forgive me, too, because I don’t know how to help you.”

Mithrun drew several deep breaths. “No, it was my mistake not telling you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I told you, I need to know things like this.”

“Sometimes, when I can’t decide what would be best to do, I imagine the person that I was before I became like this.” Mithrun patted around on the bed for the edge of the sheet and used his limited energy to pull it over the lower half of his body. This was probably more for Kabru’s benefit than his own. “I ask myself what I can imagine him doing, and I couldn’t imagine him telling you.”

“Can you imagine why not?”

“I was conceited and ashamed of this body.” Mithrun rolled over onto one side, pulling the sheet with him. “I always suspected that the love I left behind chose my brother over me because I wasn’t the kind of man who could give her children.”

As if the story needed to be any more complicated.

“Well, I know now.” Kabru moved to the head of the bed and reached down to press the backside of his hand to Mithrun’s forehead. Still hot, but not dangerously so. “How are you feeling?”

“You may not want to touch me,” Mithrun said, the words coming through a throat pinched tight.

“Why is that?”

A long pause. Was Mithrun checking in with his past self?

“I don’t want anything,” Mithrun finally said, his arms crossing tight over his chest as he curled in on himself as if evading Kabru’s hand. “But my body wants you very badly right now, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I-” Kabru’s mouth opened and closed like a fish flapping on a riverbank until covered it with his hand to spare himself the embarrassment of having been knocked speechless.

Talk about complicated.

[bucketsofmonsters]

Can you rate your monsters in terms of who gets hottest under the collar if you enact skillful violence in their defense to who absolutely hates any confrontation for their sake? Which monsters see you headbutt someone and make it a bar brawl defending their honor/safety and immediately start thinking about tearing your clothes off? I think Caspian/shark hottie's right in the middle of the scale, and he thinks it's ever-so-cute and it gets a little smile from him anytime you viciously defend him.

I absolutely can

Simon is our number one violence fan here, if you so much as lifted a finger for him, he'd be all over it. He'll read into fucking anything, you fighting for him, it might as well be a marriage proposal

Vincent does not like violence in theory but he does very much like you and the second you throw a punch for him he'd be absolutely swooning, hearts in his eyes

Do not do this in front of subject 251 unless you want them dead!! He doesn’t understand it as a protective thing he assumes you’re fighting to kill and they will be dead soon. He loves you fighting for him but they will be deceased

Caspian is vaguely amused more than anything, a little smile on his face for sure but it does make him a little nervous, especially because you’re probably fighting outside the water where it’s difficult for him to help if he needs to

Rook has a bit of a savior complex and I think he'd be hyped about it, but part of him would be like, damn I didn't get to help them😔 He wants to watch you do sick kicks and stuff after tho he makes you do a whole little show for him, maybe tries to get you to flip him just to see if you can

Posy fucks with it Hard she’s hitting people too, she’d be with you. She would however likely get herself hurt in the process and then be a little grouchy at you later (she would forgive and forget quickly but she’s giving you huffs and crossed arms for at least an hour)

Nocturne would not be into this he’d be trying to usher you out the door like can we just go?? Why are we hitting people lol, don’t give these assholes the time of day

Lucien is at the bottom but he is the most volatile. In most instances he is kind of annoyed, it draws attention to both of you and it’s unnecessary, he’s not big on physical conflicts. However if it is at an actually dangerous person like Eden he’s both proud of you and so pissed you would put yourself in danger, he might yell at you after bc you Cannot be throwing yourself into these situations. He’d be more supportive the period where you’re super agoraphobic, he’s ur number one fan but he’s so worried about you you cannot be doing this

[satansapostle6]

Lovers and Liars | Draco Malfoy

Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott, both determined and resourceful from reputable houses, find themselves at odds in the name of love.

Warning: Mature themes/language. Violence. Sexual content.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine: Fear and Forgiveness

Lorelei Morrigan sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, staring emptily at her goblet. She glanced over at Theo, whom she had made up with since their period of annoyance at one another. Why they had fought over Harry Potter of all people, Lorelei truthfully had no idea. Theo had admitted his tendency toward jealousy, as well as his fault in their fight, and so everything was just as it was before. But Lorelei still hadn’t told Theo.

She hadn’t told him about her progress with Moody, and she certainly hadn’t told him that she’d committed murder. Lorelei knew that she and Theo had practically dreamed about this. They’d planned together to find whoever was trying to bring Lord Voldemort back, to earn their share of the glory when he did finally come back, but something about the way things happened after the Second Task made her rethink everything.

She had discovered Barty Crouch Jr.’s secret on her on. She had stolen from Professor Snape’s personal stores on her own. She killed Barty Crouch Sr. on her own. Lorelei found that she was perfectly capable of becoming powerful, more powerful than she already was, on her own. She didn’t need Theodore Nott by her side. He’d been asking her again and again to speak to Crouch Jr. about getting him in on the plan, but Lorelei found herself hesitating. She’d originally thought that she actually wanted him by her side, but for some reason, that didn’t seem to be completely true.

Why, Lorelei didn’t know. Theo was kind, and devoted to her. He loved her. He would have done anything from her, and he was capable of almost anything as well. She would’ve thought that Theodore Nott was the only person actually capable of giving her the world, even if it was promised. But something about his jealousy threw her off; it was almost as if, on some level, he didn’t trust her. Which made her not want to fully trust him, either.

Lorelei knew that the reason for Theo’s distrustful nature was his intelligent one. Theo questioned everything, and he was smart to. He was the only person she’d ever met who saw the world just as clearly as she did, and it scared her.

“Lorelei.”

Lorelei and Theo both stopped in the corridor outside the Great Hall. Daphne Greengrass, it seemed, had something to say to her. Lorelei stepped in front of Theo as he just watched suspiciously.

“Daphne,” Lorelei greeted her indifferently.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Daphne asked.

Lorelei turned back to Theo, nodding as he just stood there, still not trusting Daphne. Theo Nott was not known to forgive, or forget. But given Lorelei’s signal, he nodded back reluctantly, disappearing down the corridor as he left the girls to speak.

“What did you want to talk about?” Lorelei asked her, not seeming very eager to listen to her.

“Look, I’m really sorry about Pansy. She’s gone mad, and I know that,” the blonde confided in her. “I don’t think anything she says about you is fair.”

“It’s fine,” Lorelei shrugged. “You have to side with her. I get it.”

Daphne sighed, all too aware of her situation “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to have to choose sides. I didn’t want it to be this way,” she promised her.

“It’s fine, Daph. I understand,” Lorelei reassured her. “I don’t care about that.”

“Look, I get if you’re angry, but I just thought I should warn you… Pansy’s angry about you and Draco hanging out,” Daphne warned. “She’s… probably going to retaliate soon.”

“I can handle her,” Lorelei said calmly.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Daphne said, an uncomfortable expression on her face. “When I say she’s gone mad… She’s gone mad. She won’t stop until everyone hates you. I’ve tried to talk sense into her, but she won’t listen.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lorelei promised. “Thanks.”

Daphne nodded regretfully, lingering hesitantly for a moment before she disappeared.

*****

During Transfiguration, Lorelei had nothing but Pansy on her mind. She knew exactly the kinds of things Pansy Parkinson was saying about her behind her back; she wasn’t stupid. She knew it was slanderous, and she knew it was foul. The basic insults were easy to imagine; Lorelei knew Pansy’s first instinct would be to call her a slag, or ugly, or even insane. But she also knew that when it came to her most passionate vendettas, such as her hatred for Hermione Granger, Pansy could get creative.

She wasn’t as imaginative as Lorelei, of course, but she could be quite determined. But another enemy Lorelei knew not to underestimate was Draco Malfoy. Of course, Draco Malfoy wasn’t her ‘enemy’ in the common sense of the word. He didn’t even know he was her enemy. Draco would have even said he was fond of Lorelei Morrigan, but of course, that was the trouble.

Lorelei knew that associating herself in any way with Draco Malfoy was a risk. It had already cost her her fragile relationship with Pansy Parkinson. But of course, it came with far more perks than it did disadvantages; Draco was richer, and more powerful than Pansy. Plus, he was a boy; the world was his oyster. But Lorelei knew that being a part of Draco Malfoy’s world came with a lot of strife. For one, it made Pansy resent her.

Draco Malfoy was no friend to her in that his presence meant she was a target to people like Pansy, other people who also wanted to be a part of his world. Draco might’ve been a potential friend to her, but he was still as good as an enemy. He was selfish, rude, and arrogant. Even if he wasn’t to her, he still loved selfishly, rudely, and arrogantly. People, even the ones he liked, were just pawns to him. It didn’t matter to him what would happen to them; he had to show affection in the way he wanted to. He still owned the people he loved.

Lorelei was wary of people who were unaware of themselves. She didn’t trust people whose eyes were unopened to the chaos around them. Draco wasn’t always aware of his trajectory, but in some ways, neither was Theo. He was proud, and just as selfish of a friend as Draco, albeit in a slightly different way. She watched as he stood, coming up to the front with Professor McGonagall as she asked him to complete the Transfiguration she had set up on the board.

Lorelei watched the empty seat beside her immediately get filled. Draco Malfoy had jumped up out of his seat the moment Theodore had gotten up, taking the seat right next to Lorelei as he grinned, turning to face her.

“What are you doing?” she questioned.

“What? I can’t say ‘hello’ to a friend?” Draco said defensively.

“It’s rude to take someone else’s seat,” she reminded him, facing forward.

Draco refused to let her ignore him.

“It’s rude not to say ‘hello’ back to someone,” he quipped.

Lorelei just rolled her eyes at him.

“You look very nice today,” he tried again.

She let out a long, pointed sigh. “Why don’t you go and tell Pansy that? I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

Draco just brushed the idea off, still attempting to start an actual conversation with her.

“But she doesn’t look nice today,” he said far too quickly.

Lorelei found it difficult to take him seriously.

“I’m dating Theo,” she reminded him promptly.

“So I’ve heard,” he accepted with a sarcastic smile. “Might I ask why? Surely he wasn’t your richest option. Does he really like you that much? Does he love you, even?”

Lorelei hardly dignified this with any acknowledgment.

“Doesn’t matter,” Draco deduced for himself, “You don’t love him.”

“What makes you so sure?” she asked, tired of his cocky assumptions.

Draco just smirked, as if he was the one with the upper hand in the exchange.

“You’re bored. I can see it in your eyes,” he whispered, so that only she could hear.

She froze as she just sat there, listening with her eyes facing forward.

“He’s wooed you enough to get you, but not enough to keep you,” Draco said obnoxiously. “Nott’s a proper sort of bloke. He thinks before he acts, and he never acts unless he has to. He bores you,” he insisted.

Lorelei just shook her head, not having anything to say to him.

“Are you with Theo because you like him, or because he likes you?” Draco asked softly.

Lorelei scoffed at the question, knowing how to shut him up.

“Do you want me because you want me, or because Theo does?”

This did indeed prompt a long silence between them. She silently rejoiced as Theo began walking back to his seat, stopping in front of Draco as he just looked down at him expectantly, challenged by his attempt at irritating him. Draco just grinned, looking up at him with an innocent expression.

“Hey, Theo,” Draco said knowingly.

“Malfoy,” Theo said, looking down at him distastefully.

“Catch the Second Task last week?” Draco crossed his arms, a shit-eating grin on his face.

Draco knew exactly how to provoke him.

“What? Not in the mood for polite conversation?” he asked humorously. “Alright, fine then.”

He got up from the seat, slapping his hands on the desk next to Lorelei’s before running off to his seat before Professor McGonagall noticed the momentary commotion. Lorelei watched as Theo sat down, a slight scowl on his face, silently looking down at the tiny slip of parchment that Draco had subtly slid underneath her hand.

*****

The tiny note that Draco had written to Lorelei was troubling to her, at the very least. It was obviously very vague, and consisted of the details of some clandestine meeting that he was trying to initiate in oddly nice, but still boyish handwriting.

10:00 Tonight, Under The Swords

- D.M.

Lorelei unfolded the note in the girls’ bathroom, unsure as to what it even meant. ‘10:00 tonight’ was obvious, of course, but ‘under the swords’ was both nonsensical and ambiguous. She tucked the note into her robes as she emerged from the bathroom, finding herself unable to put the strange invitation out of her mind. She figured it would more than likely be something stupid and arrogant, like some attempt to steal her away from Theo.

Lorelei knew she should just ignore the whole thing, but a small part of her was just curious as to how Draco thought he would manage to take Theodore Nott’s girlfriend. There was no way he thought he would actually succeed. Even Lorelei wouldn’t have expected Draco Malfoy to be that delusional.

Lorelei was unable to resist secretly spending the rest of her day contemplating the cryptic meeting place in Draco Malfoy’s note. It was odd, and hardly detailed. She had no idea how he expected her to figure out what he had meant. It had to be some sort of joke, or other way of messing with her. Perhaps he just wanted her to spent the entire day unable to figure out where to meet him. Perhaps he wanted her to spend the entire night wandering the castle, only to be caught by Mr. Filch.

Lorelei knew she had every reason to just put the idea out of her head entirely. She knew she shouldn’t be entertaining Draco’s childish arrogance especially considering Theo’s insecurities regarding him. But she couldn’t help wanting to see just what Draco would have to say to her in the privacy of 10:00 at night alone, as opposed to everything he’d said right there out in the open during Transfiguration.

Yes, Draco’s boldness was laughable, and reprehensible, and yet it was also admittedly rather entertaining. Lorelei tried to put the thought of meeting Draco out of her mind as she and Theo ventured outside, to the empty training grounds. Flying classes had already come to an end for the day, leaving a beautiful, clear grass field.

Just as Lorelei had engaged herself fully in the conversation she was having with Theo about Crabbe and Goyle’s subservience, she looked up at the statue atop one of the towers. Of course, it had to be of a warrior wielding two swords. Lorelei looked up at the stone statue for a moment, sighing as she knew what she’d probably end up doing.

*****

That night, Lorelei carefully snuck out of the dungeons after everyone had gone off to bed, using an Invisibility Charm so that no one would see her. She stealthily made her way out of the castle and out to the training grounds, deciding it best to remain invisible until she knew exactly what she was walking into. Surprisingly, Lorelei found that Draco Malfoy was already waiting for her on the training grounds.

From what she could tell, he seemed perfectly genuine, as opposed to being there to play some sort of trick, albeit impatient. He just stood there on the grass, no longer in his school clothes. He was wearing a black sweater, and a matching pair of pants. Fully aware that she had the advantage, Lorelei decided she’d have a bit of fun with him before revealing herself. She quietly snuck behind Draco, fighting the urge to laugh as she quickly tapped him on the shoulder.

As expected, he whipped around, terrified as he let out a completely involuntary yelp out of fear.

“Who’s there?!” he demanded, obviously trying his best to seem intimidating.

Lorelei laughed as she undid the Invisibility Charm, still keeled over as she pointed a finger at him. Draco just frowned, embarrassed as he realized Lorelei had been playing a trick on him.

“Okay, very funny, Lorelei!” he spat, looking almost hurt.

She continued laughing, finding it funnier the angrier he got.

“You looked so funny!” she burst out laughing, still imagining the look on his face.

“Do you want someone to hear us?!” Draco demanded.

“No,” she blurted out, spitting out her last laugh. “I’m sorry.”

Draco sighed, crossing his arms like a disappointed parent. “And to think, I actually wanted to do something nice,” he muttered.

“Okay, I’m sorry. What did you want to see me about?” Lorelei asked him.

He sighed, brushing off his irritation towards her as he picked something up off the ground. His black Nimbus 2001.

“This was the surprise,” he explained.

“I don’t understand.”

“I wanted to go for a ride. I’ve been so bored since they cancelled Quidditch,” he told her. “Thought I’d ask you to join me.”

She looked at the broom, and then back at him.

“You wanted to take me up on your broom?” she questioned skeptically.

“Yeah,” Draco insisted, offended by her confusion. “Why? You scared, Morrigan?”

“Of you dropping me from the Astronomy Tower? Yes,” Lorelei stated.

“I won’t drop you!” he argued, mounting the broom. “Come on!”

“I’m not entirely convinced,” she remarked.

Draco huffed irritably, trying to think of the best possible argument.

“I’ll let you sit in front,” he offered impatiently.

Lorelei sighed, knowing it was very likely that she’d regret it for at least a moment. She aligned herself with the broom, swinging her leg over as she sat on the broomstick in front of Draco. She held on tight, not wanting to be caught off guard in case Draco decided to go fast to scare her.

“You’re good at flying, right?” he thought.

Lorelei nodded.

“Okay. Ready?” Draco asked from behind her.

“Ready,” she responded.

“I’m going to hold onto you. Is that okay?” he asked quietly.

Admittedly, Lorelei hadn’t expected Draco to explicitly ask for actual permission, nor did she expect him to do it so timidly.

“Yeah,” she nodded, feeling better about humoring him.

She braced herself as Draco wrapped an arm around her while steadying the other hand on the broom in front of hers, preparing himself in case he suddenly needed to take control of the broom.

“Alright. Go,” Draco nodded.

He lifted his legs up as she kicked her feet off the ground, allowing them to take off. Lorelei gradually pointed the broomstick upwards, allowing them to rocket upwards into the sky. They hovered comfortably above the training grounds for a while, looking down at the green grass below them.

“Do you do this often?” Lorelei asked curiously.

“What?” he replied. “Flying at night?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

“Yeah. I like coming up here at night. It helps me clear my mind,” Draco explained.

“What could you possibly have on your mind?” Lorelei said humorously.

“You’d be surprised,” Draco said softly, as she turned back to look at him.

Lorelei paused for a moment, finding a strange depth to the silence between them. Draco quickly shook off the strange energy before she could say anything, grabbing ahold of the broom with his hands in front of hers.

“It’s fun flying out here with no one to stop you,” he shared. “Watch.”

Before Lorelei could think, he took charge and aimed the broomstick upwards, allowing them to soar up so high Lorelei feared they might crash into the moon. The broom was moving faster than she’d ever been before, and she couldn’t help but let out an involuntary scream. Draco laughed hysterically as she screamed, enjoying every bit of it. He let out a hearty chuckle as he moved the broom and forced it to go up and down, sideways, and in horrendous loops.

As Lorelei felt herself getting more and more scared, she could feel Draco’s hands resting on her waist, holding onto her tight as they flew in nauseating patterns. Eventually, they stopped hundreds of feet up in the air, so high up Lorelei could hardly see the ground below.

“I hate you,” she said begrudgingly.

“As long as you’re thinking about me,” Draco smirked, earning him a warning look.

Lorelei looked down at the castle from up on his Nimbus, admiring the view as Draco tried to align his line of sight with hers, seeing his favorite view through her eyes.

“This is a beautiful view,” she confessed, looking down at the trees and the water beneath them.

“I told you,” Draco agreed. “I come up here at least once a week.”

“You’re not afraid of getting caught?”

He shrugged. “I never get caught.”

She thought for a moment, taking in this new information she seemed to be getting about Draco Malfoy.

“Why do you like doing this?” Lorelei asked him.

“To clear my head,” he repeated.

“No. Why?” she asked again.

This made him think. He didn’t answer for a moment, considering telling her the full truth.

“I don’t know. There’s just something about good view at night, alone. It’s the only time I like being alone,” Draco confessed.

“That makes sense,” she said gently, deciding to offer him some semblance of genuine sympathy.

“I know you think I’m an idiot,” Draco said after a while.

He sounded hurt, as if the thought actually bothered him. Lorelei looked down at the ground, realizing that he actually knew what she was thinking all those times they’d exchanged words here and her during classes and at the Slytherin table. Lorelei knew she’d given Draco an idea of how stupid and pathetic she thought he was, but she never thought it would actually bother her.

“But… you are an idiot,” she joked, incapable of giving him the time of day.

“Maybe,” Draco admitted, considering the possibility. “But, I’m more than you think I am,” he expressed.

She thought about this for a moment.

“I have… feelings,” he tried.

“Feelings? That’s what you think depth is?” Lorelei asked him.

“Isn’t it, though?” he pointed out.

She shrugged. “That’s part of it.”

“Well… I’m not as stupid as I let them think I am,” Draco thought bitterly.

“Then why do you let them think you’re stupid?” she asked.

“I dunno,” he admitted. “I guess it’s just freeing to know I could be if I wanted to,” he considered.

Lorelei nodded, understanding exactly what he meant for the first time.

“I wish I could be stupid,” Draco thought wistfully. “It’d make things a lot easier.”

“I know what you mean,” she offered.

“See?” he pointed out. “It’s so much better when you’re nice.”

“What makes you think I’m being nice?” she turned to look at him.

Draco let out a light chuckle, pale blue eyes looking down as he avoided her gaze for a moment.

“I can see it. In the way you look at me.”

Lorelei adjusted herself on the broom, turning more so that she was facing him.

“How do I look at you?” she asked inquisitively.

Draco’s heart skipped a beat. He actually felt it stop, but then just laughed as he realized he was talking to Lorelei, and she’d never actually be serious.

“You’re… The most intense person I’ve ever met,” Draco admitted.

“Why?” she questioned.

“I don’t know. There’s no one like you,” Draco said with certainty.

Lorelei paused for a moment, realizing she didn’t necessarily deserve the compliment. She almost found herself wishing for a moment that she could tell Draco that she was a murderer.

“What if I told you I’m not a good person?” she said finally.

Draco just looked at her blankly, not skipping a beat.

“Good people are boring,” he said dismissively.

“But, what if I’m a bad person?” Lorelei asked, curious as to what he would actually think. “What if I’ve done something truly unforgivable?” she said quietly.

Draco smiled. “You know, I’d forgive you.”

“Why?” Lorelei questioned, as if appalled by the response.

“I don’t know. Some people are worth forgiving,” he reflected. “If I didn’t forgive anyone who did something unforgivable, I’d have no one.”

He looked into her eyes, hoping he’d provided some insight. She just nodded, accepting the answer.

“But, would you want someone evil?” she wondered.

Draco smiled. “If they were willing to do evil things for me… That’s not so evil.”

-

Chapter Ten

[soraviie]

Heyy hoping I'm not too late for mtl lol but

Mtl to give silent treatment after an argument and how long it will take for reconciliation.

Love you take care <333

JIMIN/TAEHYUNG — let the records show the infamy of the Dumpling Fight™ with Taehyung even taking the lead over Jimin though just slightly. Both have been documented to hve left in a huff on slammed doors so... Taehyung would be take the longest to forgive though I have this sense that sometimes he's not even that angry, instead he's stubborn and because of it obviously he's not going to be the first to crawl back. A menace what can I tell you? As for Jimin he'd be more eager to seek out reconcilliation.

JUNGKOOK — would engage frigid sulking silence just as much as the upper two but he'd fold in now time lmao. I'm going by that fight he had with Jimin, y'know the one when he called him in the rain, saying he did not know where to go? yup, fairly much the same. Would oftentimes forget that he was supposed to give silent treatment and ends up calling you, most likely complaining about something

NAMJOON — listeNNN! the man is passive-agressive to a T. Don't come into my house and try to tell me he wouldn't give a snarky silent treatment when he gets pissy. It's preaching the value of good communication when someone else is angry but when he is? He just wants to be pissed off lmao

JIN — the only way I'd see him giving silent treatment if it's so serious it's to the point of ending a relationship or it's his fault and he's been scolded one too many times to crack a joke about it so now he just lingers awkwardly like a lost puppy, weighing the chances of getting something thrown at him if he'd try to cuddle

YOONGI/HOSEOK — sometime back I'd put Yoongi higher on the list but I think that he's mature enough to not give silent treatment anymore. He would probably give space both to his partner and himself to think things over but he wouldn't stoop to just outright not talking at all. He values both of your time much more than that and hates miscommunication, hence why the bottom tier. As for Hoseok, idk, I just always picture him as the guy who doesn't go to bed angry. There probably would be a period of time where things are not so lovey-dovey but he'd make sure both of you understand each other's viewpoints even if you don't enjoy them.

[batsplat]

id be very interested in any post of yours on the vale/jorge dynamic!!! and as a marc fan first human second i think this would also shed more light on how exactly 2015 became what it did… vale is, as we know, very bad at forgetting and extremely bad at forgiving

(this post is now posted) I do still have a few more open-ended asks in my inbox about this rivalry that I'll get to at some point, but I just wanted to quickly have a crack at this one specifically. you can kindaaaa read between the lines of the post I linked to if you want to know where I stand on this issue, but I don't say it explicitly and I might as well actually do that lol. and my stance on 2015 is that the valentino/jorge rivalry... really does not feature all that heavily. absurdly little, given they are the ones having an actual title fight. they retroactively remember to get mad at each other once all the drama has actually happened - and then suddenly you do get their history worm its way through the cracks. like, actually 2016 is way more interesting for their interpersonal relationship than 2015 is!! but 2015 is... well, it's just not that relevant. by valentino standards, you don't even really get the sense he's motivating himself through the power of spite or anything. he literally just wants his tenth - jorge being his title rival is only relevant insofar as that's his teammate

I don't actually think the maxim of valentino being bad at forgetting and forgiving really holds in this specific relationship. I've banged on about this distinction a few times by now, but to me there really is a substantial and noticeable difference between how valentino approaches the marc/sete rivalries and the way biaggi + casey/jorge get treated. the former camp involves rivals valentino was friends with, blokes he was genuinely fond of on an interpersonal level before they really butted heads competitively - and as a result there's a relationship to burn down. as a result, valentino is hurt by what happens. that's the basic precondition valentino needs not to forgive and forget: he needs to feel like a friendship has been betrayed. with jorge, there's none of that! they never had anything remotely like a close relationship with each other; if anything it's a fair bit colder than the casey dynamic is pre-2007. which means there's really nothing to forgive and forget! valentino gets over the entire 2008-10 dramatics comically quickly... like there's still a bit of needle in 2011 but once he realises there's no real competitive justification, he just kinda goes *shrug* eh, whatever. he's still bickering with casey in 2012, but those two did seemingly get a weird kick out of their squabbling and valentino also dropped that completely around mid-2013 (casey ofc did Not). like these people said some nasty shit about each other... but with both jorge and casey, valentino is extremely willing to drop it when he doesn't really think there's a point any more. as a result, valentino and jorge get on better in valentino's ducati years! it'd really only been a brief period where they're properly at war - but that period is so memorable it's how that teammate relationship gets remembered these days

basically what I said in the jorge/valentino post:

and this maybe deserves a more in-depth post... but of course it's worth pointing out that in their second teammate stint, they once again take their sweet time getting to the actual drama. 2013 they're being perfectly cooperative and honda's cute little internal war is hogging all the headlines, 2014 is basically fine with a bit of corporate espionage for flavour - hell, even 2015 is okay until, like, the very end. they're asked about their relationship every single week that year, to the point where valentino starts making gags about how him and jorge have been keeping relationship diaries and will release them at the end of the year. (drop the diaries, kings.) there's also a very sweet 'ooh you've learned so much from valentino' jorge moment that very much thematically follows on from the 2008-10 post:

Lorenzo explained an incident where, ahead of the season-finale race in Valencia, he approached a journalist to request a specific question was asked to irritate Rossi. "At the airport I told her that at the press conference she had to ask me if Valentino deserved the title,” Lorenzo said.  “For me it would not have been deserved. I wanted to put pressure on him to feel inferior.  “I also created that rivalry through the press."

which... good on you, jorge, but. what. and also... why

point is, even in their actual title fight in 2015, a bunch of different factors conspire to ensure that valentino is focused more on marc than he is on jorge. one big, big reason is that valentino + jorge basically never actually cross paths on track that whole year for more than like, a minute, which is one of the things that made that season so funky. it's maybe a little unsatisfying to go 'that long post I wrote isn't actually super relevant as backstory' and it doesn't not matter, but in a way the really interesting bit is... you'd kinda think it'd matter MORE. their history should be more relevant than it is to this story!! it's weird that it played such a small role! and, again, it does come back into the picture in 2016... they were proper mad with each other then! I reckon they did get to the point where they even managed to hurt each other, where that was something reciprocal! which is fun and compelling, but even there they do manage to mostly Get Over It at some point that very same year. in the end... despite all this history, despite this intense three year stint as teammates the first time round - somehow we ended up with another title fight between the pair of them with a super controversial finish but that interpersonal relationship is very nearly irrelevant. quirky innit

[bringerofdeathandtheapocolypse]

I just thought about this now but I can't recall Makarov and Ivan ever directly interacting with each other.

Like the closest we got was Makarov being unhappy with everything to do with Raven tail in the games.

Like Gajeel got to have a couple lines of dialogue with him and he was the spy. (Which side note, the fact we never see anything further from that aside from a mention and a flashback post Fantasia is missed potential)

But it's so bizarre that we never see either of them interact. We've never actually seen what them having a conversation is like because we've only ever heard stuff about it second hand through other characters talking.

We don't even know what exactly got Ivan kicked out of the guild. I don't think it's related to the dragon lacrima since Laxus was way younger when that happened. The most we know is Laxus was a teen but that's such a wide period of time that Ivan could have been exiled in. It also can't be lumen histore since Makarov clearly didn't know Ivan was aware of its existence until after his fight with Laxus.

Like I want to know what it was that Ivan did and why hardly anyone talks about him.

Like the kids I can believe since it's possible some if not most of them weren't at the guild when Ivan was exiled and Laxus also makes sense since he seems like the time to not want to bring things like that up. But why did we never hear a single mention of Ivan from anyone else before or after Fantasia.

I mean this is a guild with a decent amount of gossips in it. Surely someone would mention something about Ivan. Like a good moment to bring it up might be when Laxus is being an absolute ass. Maybe have one of the older members compare his behaviour to Ivan and voice concerns on Laxus becoming like his father.

I do like Ivan's proper introduction where he's talking to Gajeel which puts a seed of doubt in Gajeel's loyalty to Fairy tail for a bit. That was very cool and is an interesting set up.

Like in general, Ivan had such good potential for a villian. We've known of his existence for most of the series (I think his first mention was in Fantasia but I might be wrong, been a bit since I watched pre fantasia) and he had a relation with three of Fairy tail's members by the end of Fantasia, that being Laxus, Makarov and Gajeel.

I can kinda understand not seeing much from Laxus since he sorta just nopes out of existence for two months (which is why I can understand that some people don't mesh with his redemption since we don't really see it occur, it just kinda happens off screen and everyone forgives him which kinda also happens for Jellal which honestly, he did way worse than Laxus and he just sorta forgets it for a bit so again I can see why it doesn't mesh with some people) but we still have Makarov and Gajeel prominently.

Ivan should have been an underlying villian, have a few more scenes of Gajeel's spy work either with him talking to Ivan or Makarov and actually give us more information about Ivan and his past in Fairy tail. He doesn't need to be sympathetic, just give me a reason for his decisions and also you know, tell us what the fuck he did to get exciled.

And I've brought this up before but have him be way more prominent of a villian in GMG than he was. Have him try to fuck over Fairy tail in the games, even roping Gajeel into it with threats (like saying he's getting too attached for their plan and have him threaten someone in the guild like Team shadow gear or Lily for example) and have his members go after the mages in the night like they did with Wendy and Carla but in a way it can't be easily traced back to Raven tail's guild so like no magic use or purposely obscuring their faces (cause why don't the dragon slayer s try explaining that they're sure it was a raven tail member based on scent and have the council take something that exclusively 5 to 7 people in the country can do as proper evidence)

I also still stand by the fact that Gajeel should have gotten a repercussion for his spying. I personally go with a physical one but there are plenty of options. My personal favourite spot is right before the Ivan Vs Laxus fight, maybe even have Ivan use Gajeel as a way to get Laxus to listen to him by threatening to kill him and when Laxus tries to find a way around it to get Gajeel help (who would likely be drained of magic with Ivan's orders) Ivan instead severally injures Gajeel. That's just an option. There are tons.

Like Ivan is just so underutilized as a villian and it makes me sad because it's so interesting. He's one of three villains that have come from the Fairy tail guild. The other two being Hades (obviously) and Wraith(who died and lost his memories and also isn't even a true 'villian' just someone fighting on the opposite side to FT) and all three have vastly different reasons for becoming a villian/antagonist. But we just didn't really get much for him.

[tellthatbrokebitch]

fuck it, snippet from future fic in the stick season au verse, after byler fighting and calling a tentative truce

Mike follows him into the kitchen, pausing to look around with interest. “So, you cook a lot, huh?” he asks, wincing immediately afterwards like he regrets the question.

“Hm, when I can find the time. Or when friends drop by unannounced on my day off and demand breakfast.” He sees Mike wince again at the pointed jab and forces his tone to soften. “I’m joking, Mike. I’m grouchy first thing in the morning.”

As he sets about pulling cartons and jugs from his fridge, Will swears he hears a quiet “I remember” somewhere behind him. He bites back a reluctantly fond smile and turns to set his loot out on the island. At Mike’s obvious confusion, he gestures to the plastic cup in Mike’s hand. “I’ve got orange, apple, and grape,” he lists off, “or, if you don’t want juice, I have some Coke, or I have my Brita filter. If you’d prefer something hot, I could make tea or coffee-”

“Will.” Mike is giving him an entirely new look now, something less confused and more fond. “It’s okay. I’m okay with whatever.”

Will frowns. “It’s not okay, Mike, I’m just-” he sighs. “I’ve been sober now for so long that I forget it’s different for other addicts, being around friends who still drink. It doesn’t tempt me anymore, so it’s habit to just supply alcohol for everyone-”

“I get it, okay? Well, mostly. I’m not mad at you, Will. I’m not upset.”

Damn him. Damn him. The familiar burn of threatening tears builds behind Will’s eyes, burns at his throat. It isn’t fair. Mike’s been gone for a decade, left him behind for so long - then he waltzes back into Will’s life, and within a week he’s reading Will just as easily as he always did, digging right down to the heart of him.

He casts his gaze downwards to cover the emotion he knows always bleeds through too easily and clears his throat. “I was going to make myself some coffee and make Max tea,” he says, avoiding the questioning tilt to Mike’s head.

“Tea sounds good - unless it’s chamomile.”

“No, no chamomile. Not baby-safe. I have…” Will crosses to the cabinet above his Keurig and eyes the selection. “Peppermint, ginger, green, oolong, chai, earl grey.” He squints. “Some orange-spiced shit El bought and never drank.”

Mike hums. “The orange sounds good.”

Will twists to stare over his shoulder. “Seriously?”

He shrugs. “Why not? Adventure is the spice of life.”

“Pretty sure I said it was orange-spiced, but whatever, it’s your funeral.” Will pulls out a packet of the orange and one of the peppermint before his own words register and he freezes. His head tilts forward and hits the cabinet door with an audible thunk. “Shit.”

“It’s fine.”

Somehow, Mike’s forgiveness just makes him feel worse. With his forehead still pressed into the wood, he lets out a frustrated laugh that sounds more like a groan. “My inability to keep my foot out of my mouth doesn’t bode well for the rest of the night.”

“Will.” Mike’s voice is closer now, to his left. When he lifts his head to look, Mike’s leaning against the fridge, and his smile isn’t even the least bit sad. “You worry too much. I’m not going to break down into tears if you mention Ted’s funeral, or my sobriety, or - I don’t know - peeing my pants in Click’s class.”

“Okay, but maybe I will. Did you ever think about that?”

“Nooo, you? Big macho mechanic man?” There’s that teasing note to his voice, so familiar, and it throws Will back in time, to him teasing Will for misplacing his house key, for losing a game after shamelessly cheating, for getting an unwanted Valentine from Charlotte Grant from fifth period. It’s second nature to groan and say, “Shut up, Michael!” on a childish whine.

It’s worth the brief flash of embarrassment for the way it makes Mike throw his head back and cackle the way he always hated when they were kids, the way Will always loved. It’s a happy sound, happy in the way Mike hasn’t been all week.

It’s impossible for Will not to notice the air of palpable sadness that followed his old friend like a stormy cloud. Well, it was easy to ignore in the beginning, when the hurt and anger was still fresh, when he was still avoiding Mike like the plague. But since their talk, or fight, or truce, it was obvious.

The truth is, even after a decade apart, he can still read Mike - his moods, at least - and no matter how successful Mike is now, no matter the money, the notoriety, the fame - he’s not happy.

based, of course, on a song from the stick season album, primarily this one:

honey come over

the party’s gone slower

and no one will tempt you

we know you got sober

there’s orange juice in the kitchen

bought for the children

it’s yours if you want it

we’re just glad you could visit

feels like i’ve been ready for you to come home

for so long

that i didn’t think to ask you where you’d gone

so why’d you go?

[golbrocklovely]

Sam and Colby going to Jake’s party made me think that maybe when things got bad between them , it was more Snc and Corey being on worse terms and having some fight and Jake just sticking to Corey , because he was always closer to him? Idk. Because Snc are bad at cutting bad people out from their life, but I doubt that they would forgive Jake if he would really did something really really bad for them. Even Colby wouldn’t I think … idk… just thinking.

Bit honestly I hope they will never reunite with Corey and for fuck sake i beg you never Elton. I can tolerate Jake… but not those two

i always believed that whatever happened between snc and jake was just petty, dumb shit and that nothing truly serious happened. but i figured whatever did happen caused them to need a break from one another.

this is my guess about all of it (so obviously take it with a grain of salt):

i think when jake and corey moved in with snc, they thought things would be like it was in the old trap house. however, snc weren't gonna let them go buckwild crazy bc now this was a house that they owned, not rented. i think once snc went from roommates to landlords (in a way), that started the riff in the friendship. we also gotta remember that it wasn't just them splitting off, jake/corey and snc, it was also the entire friendgroup. slowly but surely, everyone stopped being friends for some reason. my personal guess is that once snc stopped making the content they used to make ie the paranormal content with jake and corey, mix that with the pandemic and not seeing one another, i think that caused everyone to reevaluate their friendships. mike had his issues with some of the friends, kevin ventured off too, aryia moved, most moved onto knj's friendgroup, ect ect.

and you could tell things were changing or had changed. by kat's bday of 2020, not everyone was showing up. and then definitely by sam's, no one came over. i also believe that snc changing up their content made some of their friends jump ship. i think some of their friends didn't believe that snc would be succeeding if they changed their format, and if snc don't succeed, neither do their friends since so many of them at the time relied on snc's clout.

by 2021, things changed a lot. i think by that point, jake had alluded to wanting to move out and have his own place so that he could be loud and obnoxious without it being an issue (which is what seemed to be a problem in the house for some reason that he never explained). so he moved out. and then corey followed suit not long after that.

now with corey, i think he had plans to move out eventually, but i think snc not doing paranormal content and moving on to other things pushed his hand. corey barely made his own content around this time. realistically, he relied on snc and their constant posting to give him any attention since he couldn't keep up or bother to post his own content often enough. and once snc stopped doing haunted stuff, i think corey knew he had to jump ship and find someone else to lean on. and that's where elton comes in at.

ppl forget that there was a period of time that elton didn't want to do tfil. back in late 2018/early 2019, he stopped tfil. he literally ended it and said that he wanted to make documentaries. he made one or two and no one cared about them, which is why he came back out with tfil and did those trips with snc, corey, and andrea. elton lost the love he had for his own brand and only brought it back bc he had no other options.

elton had done paranormal stuff before on his other, personal channel (which is now the overnight channel). granted, a lot of them were faked or had edits in them to make the content more interesting, but he did do that stuff prior to snc doing it. while elton moved onto paranormal stuff, snc switched to 25x25, which elton saw as a copycat to tfil - even tho it never was.

corey had to move on with elton, not only bc from he said he wanted to make music and get back into dancing (which… how's that going for you) but bc elton was doing the one thing that brought corey attention: paranormal content. ppl knew corey for the paranormal content he made with snc, so jumping onto someone else's brand that was paranormal related worked for him.

and things only escalated once snc went back to paranormal investigating when 25x25 didn't work out like they hoped.

i think jake and corey were very close since they became friends, and it only made sense that once they moved out and kinda pretended snc didn't exist (for one reason or another) to rely on each other. but again, i don't think jake ever really had a deep issue with snc. maybe in the beginning when he first moved out, but i say after a couple months he probably was fine with them again. plus, friendships go thru ebbs and flows all the time.

as for corey and snc….. that friendship will probably never be fully mended. i think corey only sided with elton in the beginning bc he had to. but by this point, i think he's equally lost in the sauce as much as elton. they both love to think that snc stole ideas from tfil/elton when that just didn't happen. and now they're in a race with snc when they aren't even in the same game as them lol

i don't see elton or corey ever really being friends with snc again, or vice versa. if they do become friends, there's gonna need to be a LOT of talking to get thru all the bs that occurred.

also… snc are gonna have to deal with half the fandom hating elton for forever sksksk

[amyyythestarry]

Any Tsukasa and Mitsuba thoughts? Headcanons, whatever?

AHHHHHHH!

YES YES YES YES YES!! ( x1000 )

I’M SO GLAD SOMEONE ASKED ME THIS!

I’ll start with the thoughts!

I think Tsukasa and Mitsuba have a lot of best friend potential! Because think about it, Tsukasa helps Mitsuba with a lot of stuff, and they do a lot of stuff together!

Like how Tsukasa grants Mitsuba wish.

I see too many people saying that Tsukasa was ‘oh so cruel’ for doing that, but they never realized that it’s all thanks to him that Mitsuba is still here.

He provided Mitsuba privileges that he would have never got from anyone else.

Kou didn’t have the same abilities as Tsukasa, and Hanako didn’t give a sh** about whatever Mitsuba had going on. He also doesn’t grant supernatural/apparitions’ wishes.

This was bada** though.

Hanako believes death is the end, and Tsukasa believes you could do more if wanted.

I think the ‘moving on without me’ is just him saying that you can’t make a wish and then completely forget about it and the consequences.

Because Mitsuba’s rumor was something about a boy haunting the school entrance. The Broadcast group made that up for him, so he could have some position in the near shore and exist in people’s memories like he wanted.

I guess we’ll never know who that would’ve played out though.

Now I do think he could have been a little bit nicer about this, but that’s Tsukasa for you.

But even though he’s a little bit cruel, I feel like it’s the lack of empathy. And it’s ok to have less empathy than others.

He’s still so supportive! Encouraging Mitsuba to make friends! How nice. And forgiving him for whatever he could do to people. He’s such a sweetheart!!

Then after this whole thing, the Hell Of Mirrors arc comes and other Mitsuba gets even stronger. Thanks to Tsukasa!

He’s very genuine. Just genuine interest of what’s going to happen.

Seeeeee!!!

Besties!!!

There is definitely this sort of boundary between them that stops them from being better friends. I really hope that flips around and they can actually be the best of friends. But honestly with how the manga is going right now I don’t think they’ll have a chance.

I’ll still hope though!

Now to headcanons!

Since Mitsuba and Tsukasa have a special place in my heart, they also have very special roles in my aus.

Summer Camp Hanako-kun, New Blues, my new and very unthought of Halloween au, and other ones that just come and go in my head or have no official plots once so ever.

At least not yet. Maybe.

But I will go through each of the official ones. And the Halloween one, even though it’s not fully thought of.

Their friendship in New Blues starts from 5th grade, like in the Halloween au and probably every modern au I’ll make. Like Summer Camp.

They met in after school detention, like in my Halloween au. Mitsuba goes there because of tardiness and Tsukasa goes there because he got into fights with some of his bullies.

PS, his bullies started the fight.

Mitsuba’s heard of the fight that happened around 2:30, passing period.

Mitsuba asks questions about the fight, Tsukasa answers them with no offenses.

After detention Tsukasa sees their interaction as potential friendship, and they interact even more.

Then they start becoming friends because of number exchanges, hangouts at free periods, group projects/work, ect.

And then boom, their besties!

In Summer Camp, they meet in 5th grade again ( It’s gonna be the same thing with every modern au I pretty sure ). This time it’s because of a group project though.

The teacher assigns the partners. Since there was an uneven number of students, Tsukasa was the only one without partners ( Groups had 3 people ), so the teacher let him choose which group he wanted to be apart of.

Nobody wanted to be his partner though, so when he went over to Mitsuba and rando character, Mitsuba didn’t really complain but rando did.

They exchanged numbers but since rando didn’t know Mitsuba and didn’t like Tsukasa they didn’t participate in the project that much.

They ended up guilt tripping Tsukasa to not to tell the teacher they didn’t participate, but they didn’t get to Mitsuba and he told.

Got a F while the boys got high Bs.

Then they started talking a lot and became besties.

The rest of my aus where there relationship is important ( Which is literally all of them ) are just not fully thought of yet.

Maybe except for this one I didn’t say anything about called Desolate au, I can’t explain the whole thing now because this is about TsuMitsu but I probably will one day!

Also I decided to call them the ‘Magenta Duo’ because pink and purple makes magenta, I also didn’t know what else to call them.

I ship them platonically and romantically!

HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT/ECT!

[edosianorchids901]

Absentminded Angel

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "the devil you forgot"

Closing his eyes, Aziraphale leaned back in his chair and took a long, slow sip of cocoa. He’d had a rather busy day, as far as days went. He’d read an entire book, baked two different kinds of sourdough bread and a lovely cake, and even tidied up the kitchenette after.

Now, with the light fading outside, he was quite ready to settle in and devour another book or three. It would be lovely.

After another sip of cocoa, he set his mug down and trailed his fingers down the stack of books waiting on his desk. What should he read first? Something new, perhaps a mystery novel? Or something older, one of his favorites?

“Perhaps something from the Regency…” he murmured, stroking the familiar cover of Persuasion. But did he want something from the time period, or something written later? One of his Georgette Heyer novels, perhaps.

His fingers slipped down to the next book, and he smiled. Ah yes, Moonraker. He wouldn’t be reading that tonight, but soon. Lately, he and Crowley had formed a new routine. Often, after dinner, Aziraphale now read to—

“Dinner,” Aziraphale gasped, freezing in place. “Oh, Lord. I’ve forgotten Crowley!”

He flung out of his seat, books abandoned, and shimmied out of his comfy indoor coat and house slippers. Moving quickly, he shrugged on his usual jacket and slipped into his shoes. Oh, how could he have forgotten Crowley again?

“It’s not too late. Hardly late at all.” He straightened his bow tie and smoothed his hair, then rushed outside onto the crowded pavement.

It seemed even more crowded than usual for this time of day, and he used a subtle miracle to shift the humans out of his path. They adjusted just a little without noticing, and he half-jogged between them.

It was still taking far too long. He’d meant to set out well over an hour ago, to have a leisurely stroll to the Ritz and perhaps stop at a shop or two on the way and get a nice gift for Crowley. “Oh, oh, I’m so late…”

He dashed into a flower shop and purchased a bouquet of pink tulips, then snapped his fingers and simply teleported himself to the Ritz. Likely startled the humans in the shop a bit, but that was fine. They would recover.

His relationship, on the other hand, might not. Especially since this was the fifth time this month he’d been late meeting Crowley for a date.

Gasping for breath, Aziraphale rushed inside. Crowley was already at their usual spot, slouched in his seat, pouring wine.

Aziraphale rushed up, skidded to a halt, and nearly overbalanced. He caught himself on the table, just barely, and stuck out the bouquet of flowers. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Crowley! Got carried away with baking and reading and—”

“Angel!” Crowley grinned up at him, taking the flowers immediately. “Gosh, these are gorgeous. Any special occasion?”

“An apology, I… I suppose.” Breathless, Aziraphale collapsed into his seat. “Oh, Crowley, I’m so very sorry. I feel just awful, being this late again. I forgot all about dinner.”

Crowley snorted and laid the tulips on the table beside his very full glass of wine. “S’ always good to know what a high priority I am.”

“You are! Oh…” Aziraphale closed his eyes for a moment, ashamed of himself, then took Crowley’s slim hand in both of his own. “My dear boy, you’re so very important to me. I’m just a forgetful old silly. Can you ever forgive me?”

“Relax, Aziraphale. M’ just teasing.” A smile danced on Crowley’s lips, and he poured wine for Aziraphale with his free hand. “It’s fine, seriously. I had my mobile and plenty of ways to distract myself. Started a whole fight on Twitter and everything.”

“Ah. What a worthy use of your time.” Frantic heartbeat calming, Aziraphale managed a faint smile. He leaned back a little and tried to catch his breaths.

“Honestly, at this point I kinda expect you to be late. Although this is pretty bad, even for you. Might have to make sure I pick you up instead of us planning to meet.” Crowley squeezed his hand, then leaned forward and kissed him. Somehow, he just looked very amused by all this. “I coulda called you, I guess. But I thought maybe you were on your way.”

“Well, I… I was. Eventually.” Aziraphale pulled Crowley back in for another quick kiss. “You’re really not angry with me?”

“Nnh, not gonna deny occasional irritation while I was waiting. But I forgive you.” Still with that indulgent smile, Crowley ruffled his hair. “You’re my angel. My incredibly absentminded angel.”

“Oh… I suppose I can’t argue against that.” Aziraphale ducked his head shyly, heart aching with affection. “You really are so good to me, you know. Awfully kind.”

“Oy, shut it,” Crowley muttered. He took a gulp of wine, then patted the bouquet of flowers. “These are great. Got anything else special planned for after dinner?”

Mischief sparkled in Crowley’s eyes as he peered over his dark glasses, and Aziraphale blushed. “Well, I can think of a few things to do with such a handsome devil. Perhaps involving the bed, and rather a lot of kissing…”

Crowley chuckled and leaned in, stealing another quick kiss. “Mmm, I’m onboard with that plan. Better make sure I drive you back to the shop, though. If we plan to meet there, who knows when you might show up.”

“Oh, if you insist.” Aziraphale wiggled in his seat, reaching for his wine. He really was quite lucky, having a wonderful demon who was so forgiving of his mistakes. And although dinner would be late now, at least neither of them required sleep. They would have plenty of time for snuggles, kisses, and anything else they wanted.

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hi, it’s me, Fanfic Anon #2. I wrote this awhile ago, but I never submitted it because it never felt right (things have rough lately, so I’ve wanted to submit fluffier things). Since I saw a fight request from someone, I thought now was a good time to do it. It’s not a fight, but the aftermath of it. Hope you all enjoy!

He went too far, and he feels like an asshole. Once his own simmering anger calmed after the heat of the moment had passed, he was left with this overwhelming sense of guilt. He picked the fight and he pushed it way over the line, his own insecurities and fears overtaking his rational brain.

He knows he’s hurt her, heard the way she shut down over the phone, her voice getting cold, lethal in a way he’s never heard directed at him before she hung up the phone. And as the fight keeps playing over and over again, he’s slowly becoming sick to his stomach.

He’s never been in a relationship like this before, sure he had a girlfriend for a short period before Brigitte, but it wasn’t serious. He knew from the moment he met her this was his soulmate. And now, he’s gone and blown it.

He’s desperate to fix it, he just isn’t sure how. The only thing he can think of is getting her back on the phone because he couldn’t get back to her from Paris fast enough.

"Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up," he begged as he heard the phone ring.

"Hello?" She answered.

"Please don’t hang up," he begged.

"I don’t think it’s a good idea, Emmanuel. I think we said all we needed to say to each other tonight."

"Please. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please don’t leave me. I love you. I promise, I will do anything, anything to make it up to you. Just please, give me another chance, Brigitte. Please don’t leave me."

She sighed deeply at that. "I’m mad at you, Emmanuel, but that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere. I can be mad at you and love you at the same time. In fact, it’s because I love you so much that I’m so mad and hurt. You have my heart, Emmanuel, that means you have more power over it than anyone other than my children. So when we fight, when you say things like that -"

"I’m so sorry -"

"If we’re going to talk, you’re going to need to let me finish, okay?"

"Okay."

"Thank you. As I was saying, so when we fight, when you say things like that it hurts. It hurts very deeply. Because I love you, very deeply.

"I know that you’re young. I know that this is your first real relationship, so I know that there are going to be growing pains. I think we forget because you’re so very special, so old and wise beyond your years that simple fact.

"So I’m hurt. I’m mad. But I love you. I love you, Emmanuel. And I was still going to call you at our normal time tomorrow. We have already overcome so much. This isn’t anything but a little hiccup."

He waited a few moments, trying to collect himself, wiping the single tear falling down his cheek. "I am really so sorry, Brigitte. I know I went too far. I know I let my insecurities and my fears and my concerns overwhelm my reason. And I hurt you, and for that I can’t forgive myself."

"We’re both going to hurt each other. That happens in any long term relationship, which we will be. This time it was you. Next time, it may be me."

"But I don’t want us to end up like," he trailed off, not wanting to start another fight by voicing the rest of the sentence.

"You are nothing like him," she addressed the elephant in the room. "And we are not going to end up like that. Okay. No matter what happens."

"How can you know that?"

"Because you, you brilliant, infuriating man, have made me believe. In you. In us. In forever."

"I love you, so much. And I am so sorry.”

"I know. I forgive you. I love you too. But, I need to get back to my kids now."

"I’ll let you go, then. Good night."

"Good night, chéri."

Hellooo fanfic Anon #2! ❤️

Yes hahaha difficult times really call for fluffy things!

But good that you had this one waiting to be posted and quite fulfill the request.

The poor thing asking forgiveness like a lost puppy hahaha and good that Brigitte kinda of put him out of his misery fast, or he would have a little heart attack 😅

“You are a brilliant, infuriating man” - that’s it, that’s the perfect resume about Emmanuel hahaha

Thank you so much, fanfic Anon #2! ❤️❤️❤️

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Cozy autumn desserts with the Coloratura Jazz Band

There’s just something about autumn that feels like the perfect time for baking. Maybe we kinda overdid it a little, but it’s no problem because, A, we have a lot of people, and B, it’s for a celebration. I mean, with an actual professional baker taking the lead and giving us access to a fancy kitchen, how can we not get enthusiastic?

The special occasion is for Steven, Emmaline, and the Coloratura Jazz Band Orchestra on the success of their new album I’ve Got No Choice But to Survive. The whole thing just came together by chance, just Steven and Emmaline making music together for fun. Then they found some unfinished songs they worked on in the past, particularly during rough periods in their lives, and had the idea of going back and finishing them. The idea later evolved into an EP, only to realize that they had so much material that they decided to go for a full length album. Then the Coloratura Jazz Band got involved, and the project took on a life of its own.

As the title suggests, the songs in the album are quite personal. It’s one of those things where they struggled with if they should put this out there or not. After all, it’s not easy to put yourself out there, vulnerable and flawed and all. There were times when they wondered if they were leaning in too heavily on the serious stuff, and whether that would have an impact on the album as a whole. In the end, I think they did a good job of expressing themselves in a way that remains true to the messages they want to bring out without it being too depressing or dragged out.

That being said, there are lighthearted songs in the album too about how despite the struggles they went through, they still retained their whimsical and romantic outlook on life. I think that’s another point where they succeeded - that it’s all about balance. It’s good to remain optimistic, but you also need to know how to stand up for yourself and fight back when necessary. Sure, it’s good when everyone can get along, but you also have to realize that it’s not your responsibility to clean up everyone’s messes, especially when it means that you have to constantly put yourself in an uncomfortable position while they walk all over you.

Of course, when you try to stand up for yourself, there’s inevitably gonna be some people who object to that. Especially if you’re the type of person who goes out of the way to be of as little inconvenience as possible, constantly putting yourself last, and just revolving your life around helping others with no regard for yourself. It’s an unhealthy cycle, thinking that you are of no worth because you think all you’re good for is being a stepping stool for others.

In Steven and Emmaline’s case, they had to learn the hard way that living like that wasn’t healthy. Simply put, they suffered mentally and physically, but hid their struggles to the point that it blew up in their faces and they had no choice but to confront their demons head on, or keep spiraling further down.

It wasn’t easy, but they managed to pull themselves back up. Though they said that they’d be lying if they said it was smooth sailing. People like to go on about recovery being something linear, but in reality, that is far from the truth. Although Steven and Emmaline are obviously doing much better compared to 10 years ago when they were at their lowest, that doesn’t mean they still don’t have their rough periods.

No matter how well adjusted or healed you think you are, there will be days when you struggle to get out of bed, and that’s something you have to learn to deal with. The way I see it, struggling is not a moral thing, it’s just something that happens. You are not a bad or weak person for struggling or falling back into bad habits. It happens and you just have to learn how to live through it. There are some things you can never fully get over, and that’s okay. Sometimes, forgive and forget just isn’t an option, which is something I think a lot of people don’t understand. I mean, it’s even a bit hard for me to explain or understand as there should be a lot of nuance behind it.

I guess what I’m saying is that we are all very complicated and there isn’t always a clear right or wrong way to deal with things, and that’s something a lot of us have a hard time accepting. How nice would it be if it was a lot easier for us to tell what’s clearly right and what’s wrong?

The title track was written by Emmaline that kinda sets the whole tone for the album. While it deals with some serious stuff, there’s also some lighthearted, whimsical moments to balance things out, as well as reinforce the message that no matter how bad things get, you can pull yourself out. That it’s better to fight than give into your demons. Your problems won’t go away overnight, but at least you tried to take matters in your own hands, and it’s the effort that counts. After all, it’s better to do something than give in to despair and hopelessness.

Emmaline came up with the song, which was titled Scleral Band Blues at the time, while recovering from her second surgery where they put the scleral band in. This was after she reached a really low point and she got into that accident. In retrospect, she and her therapist concluded that she was indeed experiencing psychosis and dissaociation at the time, which explained why she was so out of it. From what she can recall, she completely disregarded her safety. And maybe a part of her wanted to seriously injure, or maybe even kill herself, maybe just to feel something other than the dread and listlessness that plagued her during that time.

I can’t imagine how rough it was for her during that time, especially since I wasn’t there and failed to notice that she was spiraling out of control. Even though Emmaline has never blamed us since she said she kinda brought it on herself by pretending that nothing was wrong, I still can’t help but feel somewhat guilty. I mean, I kinda indirectly contributed to her feeling stuck and worthless as I was starting college at the time. A lot of her older friends were moving on and living their lives while she struggled to find her own footing.

After spending most of your life dealing with unresolved trauma, it’s hard to imagine a future where you’re alive and thriving. For Emmaline, that was what led to her breaking point. While she was never outright suicidal, she later learned that she had been struggling with suicidal ideation, which became more apparent as she got older.

So I’ve Got No Choice But to Survive is a song about mental health struggles, overcoming trauma, and dealing with suicidal ideation with bits of sarcastic humor in between. Emmaline said the whole idea came from the fact that she saw her mental health at the time not that much different from Lefty - that is, barely being held together by something, like a piece of plastic, for example. It was by chance that she came across the song again and realized how much things have changed since then. So she took the general ideas the song conveyed during that time and reworked the lyrics to more accurately represent what she’s been through since then, reiterating the message that she’s here in the present and has no choice but to wake up in the morning and take it one step at a time because it’s apparent that she’s not gonna die anytime soon.

Along with the lyrics, the music itself deserves praise too. I mean, the Coloratura Jazz Band’s involved, so it’s bound to be good. As expected, there’s elements of jazz as well as bedroom pop, a mix of classical, traditional, and modern that I’ve been really digging with music lately.

It came as a surprise to everyone how well received the album was. After all, it was just a personal project between Steven and Emmaline, two casual musicians who were just doing this for fun. That’s not to say that they aren’t insanely talented - which they are - but it wasn’t like they sought to make waves in the music scene. That said, the surprisingly positive reception has inspired the duo to consider a follow up, especially since they do have a lot of material that they inevitably had to cut for various reasons. I definitely want more from them if they’re willing.

But of course, there’s also some negativity as well. Though this one it’s from a particularly loud minority, specifically from someone with a personal grudge. Yes, it’s Mae, who seems to have it out for Emmaline.

For obvious reasons, Emmaline never really goes into detail about what’s going on between her and Mae, mostly because it’s one sided and it’s not worth giving a fuck about. Daisy Jane often feels the need to apologize for her sister’s actions even though we’ve told her that it’s not necessary. After all, Mae’s an adult, and therefore, she’s responsible for her own actions. Not her parents, not her older sister, everything she says and does comes from her.

At this point, it’s not just Mae’s bad takes on a lot of topics, it’s more of the fact that a lot of her so-called constructive criticism’s bordering on harassment. Since a lot of it’s personal and not really anyone’s business, Emmaline has, for the most part, ignored Mae’s remarks on social media. If she feels the need to comment, she always does it through DMs, only for Mae to turn it into a public spectacle. I’d say there’s no point in reasoning with someone who feels the need to do that.

As usual, Mae’s criticism involves a lot of bad takes and personal grudges. A lot of it stems from the fact that she views people as objects and she has said that she doesn’t deal with “damaged goods”, which she thinks is what makes her superior. I think it’s a load of bullshit, not to mention the fucked up implications behind it. There’s no hiding that she only cares about others when it’s convenient for her, not to mention how much of a hypocrite she comes across because of that. And what’s worse is that she sees this as a good thing because it means she has high standards or some shit like that.

So it’s no surprise how quickly she dropped people like Emmaline and Pippa when they became “inconvenient” for her. Emmaline was someone she once looked up to, that is, before she went “psycho”. Basically, whenever something good happens to Emmaline, Mae somehow always feels the need to bring up things like Emmaline’s mental health and trauma. And for what purpose? To make people reconsider? Like, what’s the point of constantly digging up someone’s skeletons to put them in a negative light other than malicious intentions?

And with Pippa, Mae and Alon put a lot of pressure on her to “be somebody”, which backfired as it made Pippa afraid to put herself out there as they hammered it over her head that being inconvenient and making mistakes is the worst thing you can do. Then they pretty much dropped her when cancer turned her life upside down because they didn’t want to deal with that. Even now, they still see Pippa as some sort of invalid who’s a lost cause, especially after her medical ordeals led to her standing up for herself rather than let them push her around. I swear, they act like she got lured into a bad crowd or something, when in reality, she surrounded herself with good, trustworthy, and supportive friends who accept her for who she is, imperfections and all.

Plus, there’s also the fact that Mae and Alon have been painting Pippa as some sort of drug addict because of the fact that she needs to take immunosuppressants. Like, that’s just blatant ableism. Pippa’s response was along the lines of “How dare I need to take meds so I won’t die.” On a similar note, Emmaline, fed up with Mae constantly bringing up the fact that she experiences psychosis, commented, “I won’t deny that I’ve had episodes of psychosis. Do you really think I take mood stabilizers for funsies?” Of course, in both cases, Mae played victim and used that to further prove that “damaged goods” aren’t worth dealing with.

That said, I think Mae’s headed towards something dangerous and I don’t like it one bit. To think that she and Daisy Jane are related… At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if she says something about not wanting to associate with people who are the wrong color or some shit. I hate to say it, but I think she’s a lost cause.

And yes, the line about being seen as damaged goods that are beyond saving is a dig at Mae, something that the general public obviously wouldn’t know. But Mae does, and that’s why she won’t shut up, which Emmaline does admit she fully expected that. Emmaline’s done trying to reason with her, so she can spew all the negativity she wants about the album - it’s not like anyone cares since it’s pretty obvious where she’s coming from as it’s pretty clear it’s a case of taking out personal grudges in the form of constructive criticism.

Funny enough, like art mirrors real life, it ties into how you can move on from trauma without forgiveness. That’s not to say that you should hold on to grudges, more like you shouldn’t be obligated to forgive if it’ll ultimately do you more harm than good. That it’s okay to acknowledge that some fucked up shit happened to you and that it’s okay to not get over it as long as you don’t let that anger and resentment take over your life. If someone has a problem with that, then it’s their problem, not ours.

I think because the themes and lyrics resonated with so many people, it’s no surprise that the album became an unexpected hit. From the whimsical, jazzy beat of Steven’s Hopelessly Romantic, to Emmaline’s melancholic yet determinably hopeful Thundering Rain, it’s clear how much they poured into these songs. It’s not easy to put yourself out there like that, all vulnerable and open, and they succeeded by a lot.

So maybe we went a little overboard with baking, but I think it’s well deserved. I mean, thanks to Steven, we had access to a fancy kitchen, so how could we not? We have almost everything on hand, meaning that we could make pretty much anything we want.

Since Steven’s the professional, and he’s a good teacher, that motivated us to step out of our comfort zones to try something that we normally wouldn’t. I like baking, but I usually tend to stick with recipes that aren’t super complicated or require a lot of time to prepare. Sometimes it’s not as daunting or tedious when there’s others around.

Of course, it also turned into sort of a baking 101 workshop thing, which was a lot of fun. Kelly’s been meaning to get into baking more because she’s a self-proclaimed sweet tooth who can never get enough of desserts, so why not learn how to make some? For me, what I like about baking is that not only you make something that’s good and you’re proud of, but you can also cater it to your own tastes and preferences.

So a lot of the jazz band are on the same boat as Kelly as they want to expand beyond the basics of baking. And we ended up making a lot of desserts, which we didn’t mind since we were gonna eat them all anyway. It always amazed me how many different types of things there are, whether it’s cakes, pies, tarts, cookies, pastries - it’s kinda almost like we started our own bakery. And keep in mind, the jazz band’s a somewhat big group, so there was a lot to go around!

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