#((a part of me wants to be optimistic and hope that this thing won't last long))

[11cupids-tarot11]

A Letter From Your Future Spouse

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1 -> 4

Cupid's Services Cupid's Master List Socials

Tips appreciated!

C@sh app and P@ypal only!

$minnieplant3

@janellec03

LOVE U

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

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Pile 1- Four of Wands, The Fool, Page of Swords, Nine of Cups, Page of Wands, The Wheel of Fortune.

"Hi you! I've been sleeping a lot, can't seem to do anything else lately because of how tired I've been. Finally. I can sleep as much as I want to now because of a situation that just so happened to end recently. Death.

What now? See, I've been wondering the same thing. But let's not even worry about it, let's just sleep as much as we want to because we finally can, even if it's only a little nap time out of your day do it because I gotta see you one last time later, I've got a message for you in your dreams. Spirit will tell you, don't worry about missing it or when <3

Resting so much so when I do have to work, you know, find that balance again between work and fun, I can focus on what's so important to me a lot better, I mean really give it my all... You know? Lol

Sorry, I dream a lot, you might notice my head is always in the clouds. I have very air energy like a Gemini.

Things are finally clearing up for me! I feel at peace, maybe we mirror each other and things are also getting better for you too? You have to let me know, okay? I feel like I can finally breathe again, be optimistic without being scared the rug is going to get snatched from underneath.

I've been working so so hard on my craft, putting in so much love and effort into my work and I feel really hopeful that all of my productivity will pay off soon, consistency is key, right?

I really like the color yellow, 😄 talk again soon!"

Hope you enjoyed! Don't forget to do the poll below 👇🏾 ✨

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Pile 2- Knight of Wands, I forgot to write down the rest of the cards I'm so sorry 😞

"I have no problem with putting in hard work for anything I want, even you, you know? If you don't want me the moment we catch eyes I'll make you ;)

The moment I catch you I'm going to make sure I never stop loving you, I'll make sure every day is beautiful, even on our bad days we'll kiss each other good night before bed still. I love you!

Why do you keep worrying yourself? All of that doubt in that pretty little head of yours isn't good, you should lay it all to rest before you make yourself sick baby. Sleep more, practice some self care before you run yourself crazy, okay?

I'm so proud of you, you know, for whatever amazing things you've accomplished lately. I believe in you, I'll always be your #1 cheerleader!

You should go out and celebrate! Enjoy the sun, you deserve it my angel! Promise me you won't let this go by like it's just not that big and you'll go out and do something? Pinky promise?

Stay focused! You're on the right path, you're doing amazing! I promise you, all of this will be worth it, it's worth our future 💓 keep going, I know you can do it! 🎉"

Hope you enjoy!!☺️ Don't forget to do the poll below!!

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Pile 3- Queen of Cups, Justice, Four of Cups, The Moon, Three of Swords, The Star.

" Hi my love, you know I don't talk a lot haha, so I'll make this quick as usual and get out of your hair so you can go on.

I just want to remind you, you're my queen, my favorite, my whole world ❤️ I think red looks really pretty on you btw but anyway, I love and miss you like crazy at times like these.

I am going through something right now, a legal situation, a situation I wish would come to an end right now because it's so heavy on me, it's hurting me but I know at the same time it's happening to me because it's part of my karma, something that's forcing me to look so closely at myself, at every shadow because I think it leads me to you. My everything. We're going to get married, I'm so sure of it.

I'm keeping hope alive, I'm hanging on to every thread of it I've got. I'm working on everything right now, I'll catch up with you soon sweetheart 💋 I'm going to kiss you when I do, you won't be able to get rid of me. ;) "

Hope you enjoy! Don't forget to do the poll below!!

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Pile 4- Ace of Cups, The Hanged Man, King of Wands, Nine of Cups, Knight of Cups, Nine of Wands.

"I want to come to you with amazing news but I can't, I'm sorry to say, I've taken a turn for the worst right now. Don't worry, it's temporary.

I am slowly building myself back up, that's what I'm doing right now if you're wondering what I've been doing all this time. I'm healing day by day and I hope you are too sweetheart. I might be a bit stuck and tangled up right now, but I'm clearing through it!

I'm the kind of guy who will pursue you with nothing but kindness until I make you fall for me with your charm, I'm cute, I know I am, you'll love me, I have curly light hair, and a really cute smile. You'll think I'm so adorable.

I want to offer my heart to you, fully, 100%. You have me, all of me as long as you give me you in return, I hope you do, I can't be without you once I know you.

Take care my love ❤️."

Hope you enjoyed ❤️ Don't forget to do the poll below!!

[iddybyddybee]

I won't say I wasn't disappointed with how Creloise's story ended in Season 3 initially, but after finishing the season and thinking for a bit, I'm a little more neutral on the topic. Why? May I play devil's advocate for a moment and list two things that I got post-Season 3 for future queer representation.

Cressida's spiral in Part 2 reminded me of another Sapphic character's journey: Catra from She-ra. Catra was the main baddie for a long while, but in Season 4, there was a shift in her that made her push EVERYONE away, especially the people who were kind to her. She felt betrayed by the one person she felt the closest to, the one she loved. Catra sank so low and gave into her worst tendencies not only to make other people suffer, but also so that no one would see her suffer. That is what Cressida did, as well. In her final confrontation with Eloise, she wanted their friendship to continue and write as LW (a poor plan in hindsight since Eloise knew full well that she wasn't LW), and when Eloise refused, she immediately fell back on her bullying ways. That was enough for Eloise to end things, leaving Cressida's last good human connection gone and becoming entirely alone. She felt betrayed by someone she cared deeply about, and lashed out because of it. While it's over for now, I'm not quite giving up my hope on Creloise. Like Catra, she can be redeemed. Cressida really did show that Eloise influenced her in a positive way, despite the direction she took being not the greatest one, and Eloise even admitted that she genuinely liked being friends with Cressida during their start. Cressida may not appear next season, but maybe the one after that. Maybe she'll take the time in Wales to mature, come back and try to patch things up with Eloise.

As for not getting a canon WLW ship with a Bridgerton, we just got confirmation of not one, but TWO Bridgerton siblings being somewhere on the queer spectrum. All we wanted was at least one sibling to be queer, and now we have two. That's huge and also realistic! Like, in a family of 8, how can one of them NOT be queer? Even with me and my siblings, we have a collection of straight, ace, bi, and gay (we basically won the queer lottery). So there is still a chance for Eloise to be queer in some manner. Maybe she can be asexual, but find romantic feelings for someone? Maybe a woman? Perhaps... Cressida~? They already flipped the gender of Francesca's love interest, who's to say they can't completely change Eloise's love interest, too?

We're not going to get Season 4 for, like, two more years, so there's a lot of time to stew with what transpired. But I would like to remain optimistic. That's all we can do, for now.

[wardenparker]

In the Heights, part 1

Maxwell Lord x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 17.5k   Warnings: Cursing. Alcohol/food consumption, single dad Max, mention of divorce and unhappy marriage, probably inaccurate portrayal of being a high school student in the 60s, yearning, mutual pining, friends to lovers, the love is requited they're just idiots, the one that got away, high school crush, poor communication, mistaken sexuality assumptions, people being skeptical about Max, reader is full of sunshine, tipsy behaviours. Summary: A long time ago in a life that seems completely forgotten, you had a crush on your classmate Max Lorenzano. The world has changed a lot since then - but when you discover that your old friend is your new neighbor, it seems like some things have stayed the same after all. (This story contains flashbacks.) Notes: Part 1 of 2! I won't lie to you, guys. I love Max Lord. I love him in a way that is probably not healthy at all, so Keri has once again humored me and allowed for a little One That Got Away story with this sad puppy of a man. Also, I apologize for any errors I may have missed in editing. Cold medicine and being sleepy is a bad combo.

The sight of a moving truck isn't odd in any part of New York City. People come and go from these buildings so quickly that some people never bother to get to know their neighbors at all. The only reason you'd really noticed the one this morning was because it was out front when you were leaving for work and causing a little bit of a commotion with traffic. You'd skirted it and strode across the street to grab your usual cup of coffee and bagel with cream cheese from the bodega across the street before hitting the subway. Midtown doesn't seem far when you get to just sit and read during your commute, and you've never minded. But you tuck away the information about having a new neighbor and consider baking a batch of welcome cookies for them when you get home from the office tonight - it seems like the neighborly thing to do. You can take the girl out of the small town, but you can't take the small town out of the girl.

******

Max sighs as he hauls the last box up the stairs. Alistair has already started unpacking his room, and thank God he managed to pay the moving company to at least get the large items upstairs to the third floor wall up, but then the rest of the boxes had been left on the curb when they had figured out where they knew him from. He’s just lucky they didn’t take what he had with them, but it was again a reminder of how he had fucked up. New York is supposed to be a fresh start, a new beginning, but he doesn’t know if that’s possible for him.

The positive of someplace busy like New York was supposed to be that people would ignore or look past him. They always say New Yorkers are too busy to bother with their neighbors, and that’s something he wanted this time. To just blend into the background if he could so that Alistair could have a fighting chance and not be despised because of what he had done. Alistair, for the most part, remains as optimistic and sweet as ever. He knows that people are upset with his Daddy but his love never wavers. It’s enough to push him through the bad days, thank god, and to remind him that he’s doing this for a good reason. Starting over is for his son. He will find a way - any way - to make this work.

Things are different than D.C., the energy is different. He’s reminded of the days that he was in school, hopeful for the future. Max Lorenzano was teased and bullied in school, made fun of because of his poverty, his weird foods that he ate, the holes in his shoes, and his proclivity for learning. It had been his first life lessons, but the bullying in school was better than the beatings at home. Unsure of why he is thinking about those things, he takes the first load of boxes to the trash chute.

****

It’s sometime after dinner that the batch of chocolate chip cookies you put together are finally cool enough and ready to pack up. Stacking them neatly on a plate, wrapping it in cling film, and tying it up with ribbon, you head across the hall to meet the folks that just moved into Mrs. Cristian’s old place. An empty box marked Toys in the trash chute had clued you in to a child being present, so cookies seems even more appropriate now.

Even though Max is a miserable cook, he’s unpacking the kitchen when he hears the knock at the door. Frowning slightly, he wonders if the pizza he had ordered has already gotten here. He had assumed that it would take longer than fifteen minutes. “Coming!” He dusts his hands on his jeans and walks towards the door. Opening it up as he reaches for his wallet.

“Hi neighbor!” The words - bright and sunny - are out of your mouth before you even look up, having gotten distracted by the Torres’ cat in the hallway. But the second you do, your eyes go wide. “Max?” There’s no questioning it. It’s not like you hadn’t seen him all over the news or that you didn’t remember what had happened. Everyone remembered. Just…most of the billions of people in the world hadn’t known Max Lord since he was Max Lorenzano in Lubbock, Texas.

Instantly on guard, he’s halfway expecting to be attacked, or cussed out. That was the reaction of the majority of people who recognized him. He needed to dye his hair back to his natural brown. When the diatribe doesn’t come, he frowns and takes a closer look at the pretty woman in front of him for a moment before his eyes widen and your name comes off as a whisper like a ghost from his past

****

“Hey Lame-zano!” Max hunches over his books and speeds up, trying to ignore the boys behind him. Knowing that it would do no good to turn around and confront them. It would just speed up the beat down he knows is coming. “Hey weirdo! Fuckin’ stop!”

The boys don’t stop hollering as Max speeds up. They never do. Torture is the specialty of high school jocks, or at least these particular ones, and Max is their favourite target. “Max!” His name is hisses from somewhere off to the side, and an arm shoots out to pull him out of the hallway like he’s a bad Vaudeville comedian. He’s almost yanked off his feet, but for the girl he crashes into in the disused classroom. You hush him immediately, hand over his mouth, and quickly shut the door so the scions of the football team won’t see where he’s disappeared too. “Quiet.” You warn, carefully peaking through the window to make sure they walk by.

He crouches down, grateful that you had pulled him out of the line of fire, face burning in shame at the same time. To be rescued by the prettiest girl he’s ever seen seems to be his luck, knowing you are completely aware of his lack of masculinity. “Thanks.” He murmurs quietly.

“They’re shitheads.” You mutter, shaking your head as the group of boys howls on their way by. “Absolute shitheads.” There’s no real reason for any of the other kids to be so mean to Max, but logic never stopped cruel people from being cruel. Max is different so they’re mean. It’s as simple as that.

“They are still better than I am.” He huffs, terrified they will find him and humiliate him in front of you. It’s a dirty feeling, to know that you are going to be here to witness his utter ruination.

“How?” That doesn’t make any sense to you, and your brow furrows at him as you lean back against the door. You’ll give it another minute or two before you both go out there. Maybe the trio will move on to another target for a while. Sometimes that target is you, but you’d take it every time if it meant they would leave Max alone. “You mean they’re better at playing football than you? Who cares?”

“They are popular.” He reminds you. “Their parents are influential. People respect them.” Respect is what he craves, yearns for.

"They're bullies." And it stings, because one of those awful idiots out there is your own cousin. But because you have different last names, most people don't know. You want nothing to do with him and vice versa. "People don't respect them, they're either ass kissers or afraid." Shrugging slightly, you cross your arms over your chest, knowing that you don't exactly sound very ladylike at the moment. You could care less at the moment, though. You would only care if cussing offended Max.

“You don’t understand.” Max shakes his head and stares at you. “Why are you hiding from them? They don’t torment you.” He’s jealous of that, if he’s honest, but he’s also grateful that they don’t. Knowing that you are too good for that, for him to even talk to.

"Sure they do." It might not be as loud or as often, but they still pick on you. "Yesterday Lewis Sinclair practically pulled up my skirt in chemistry class because I answered too many questions correctly." You shake your head again, scowling this time. "They're all awful. You shouldn't listen to what they say."

“They are right, I am a loser.” Max snorts, standing up when they have passed by and don’t seem to be doubling back. “Everyone knows it.” He’s learned that he will have to reinvent himself, become someone people want to know. It’s how he will become important and successful.

"You're not." At least, you've never thought so. But maybe that doesn't count for much in his view of things. It's not like the boy you've had a quiet crush on since seventh grade has ever looked at you more than a few times - and even then it was to ask you for help in class. This might be the longest conversation you've ever had with him. "They're mean because you're different from them. That doesn't mean you're a loser."

“I guess it doesn’t matter.” He sighs and looks down at his feet. “Are you going home after this? I think we’ve missed the bus.” That means he will get home late to do his chores. Which means he will get yelled at if his father comes home early.

"We could walk?" Neither of you lives too far from the school despite most of the town being spread out to small farms or ranches, or even just decent-size patches of land. You know for a fact that the Lorenzanos live pretty close because you moved closer to them just last summer. The implosion of your family's happily little bubble wasn't public knowledge, thank goodness.

“Okay.” He bites his lip and wonders why you want to walk with him. If it’s some sort of trick. He nods and decides that walking with you is better than being alone. “Do you need anything from your locker?”

"Yeah." Nodding, you hold up the books in your arms. "I need to swap these and grab my jacket. It will only take a second, I promise." It shouldn't make you feel so warm and pleased that a boy - this boy - wants to walk home with you, but he's sweet. He's always been sweet. Ever since he moved here when you were kids. It was a shame when he came to school one day with no trace of his accent left, but it hadn't made him any less cute.

“Hopefully they won’t double back, so you can take your time.” He doesn’t want to rush you, even though every second counts. It’s the most he’s ever talked to you and he likes it. You are nice. It doesn’t hurt that he has been harboring a crush on you.

Opening the classroom door carefully, you poke your head into the hallway to see it mostly cleared and swallow a sigh. "I think they're gone," you murmur, reaching back to wave for him to follow you. "C'mon. We'll be on our way home in no time."

“Hopefully I beat my father home.” Max huffs as he follows you out of the classroom and both of you hustle down the hall.

"Will you be in trouble if you don't?" That idea bothers you, but not knowing anything about his father, you're not sure if it's realistic or not. He wouldn't be the first kid to get yelled at or even hit for not following a rule.

“It- it’s best if we hurry.” Max admits, biting his lip. “I don’t know if he planned to stop by the bar before coming home and he doesn’t like it when my chores are not done.”

"I can help." You promise instantly, tugging your locker open to exchange your books and shove them into your bag to go home. Your mother is still working and will be for hours. As long as you're home and have dinner ready for her when she gets there, she doesn't keep track of what else you do.

“You-“ he’s momentarily lost for words at your offer. No one has ever offered to help him. With anything. “You don’t have to do that.” He promises.

"It's okay." The smile you give him at the opportunity to be helpful and spend a little more time with him, is brilliant. "Come on, we should hightail it and between the two of us we'll have everything done in no time."

“Are you sure?” He frowns, not wanting to take advantage of your kindness.

“Absolutely.” Slamming your locker closed, you grab his hand and head for the exit, feeling positively brave. Your crush on Max might be unrequited, but at least you can be his friend. Everyone deserves a friend.

“My house.” He grimaces and swallows slightly. “It’s not….fancy.” He feels his face get hot and he’s a little defensive. “But it’s clean. My mother says that being poor is no excuse for being dirty.”

“My house isn’t fancy, either.” When he doesn’t pull his hand away you just keep it, wondering why it’s taken you all the way to senior year to even do this much. You’ve never been particularly brave, but this is just…it’s just talking to someone. Right? “It’s okay. Fancy doesn’t automatically equal better.”

“Yes it does.” Max argues, looking at you like you are crazy. “Fancy is always better. It means that you can have the best.” He sighs. “One day I will have the best of everything.”

****

“You remember me?” As much as you remember him - every detail, down to the curve of his nose that he hates and the hair that he had dyed and apparently dyed back again - you didn’t expect him to remember you. It’s been years since the last time you saw him face to face. A whole ten years or more. He stopped coming back to Lubbock after a while and you didn’t exactly blame him. There was never anything exciting going on there.

“Of course I remember you.” You were one of the few good memories he had from Lubbock. “What are you doing here?” Of all the people in New York, he had never anticipated seeing you. And apparently his neighbor. He had expected you to be married and have kids, although that could still be true. His eyes drop down to your left hand and he can’t see it because it’s holding a plate of cookies.

“I—I live across the hall.” As startled as you are, you’re still standing in the hallway of your apartment building and you shift your weight nervously from foot to foot. “I saw a box in the chute marked for toys, so I thought I’d bring cookies and introduce myself.” Now that you know it’s Max, though, your cheeks are burning hotter than the early July heatwave. “Just…wanted to be friendly, that’s all.”

“It’s- it’s good to see you.” Max opens the door wider, motioning for you to come in. “How long has it been?” He knows exactly how long it has been since he’s seen you. Twelve years, two months and six days since he’s last seen you.

“Twelve years.” You answer far too quickly, but you step inside his apartment anyway. It’s identical to yours except being flipped - a mirror image that lets you know where everything is with only minimal thought. “It’s good to see you too. You’ve…well, it’s been a long time. I’m sure you’ve been up to a lot. You always had big dreams.”

He frowns, certain that you must have known about the dream stone incident. Been affected by it. “Yes, I did. That is over now.” He looks back at the closed bedroom door at the end of the hall. “All I want is to be a good dad.”

“Who says that’s not a big dream?” Carefully setting the plate down on the corner of his kitchen counter, you wipe your hands nervously and shove them in your pockets. “If you ask me, that's about the biggest dream there is. Parenthood is a big deal.”

“Yes.” He nods seriously. “I let Alistair down once, but I will not let him down again.” He sighs and looks up at you guiltily. “Do you have kids?”

“I was never lucky enough.” Something that your mother considers the ultimate failing. She considers your choice to be a career woman to be a betrayal of her plan for you. The fact that you wouldn’t just settle for any guy who would have you was a tragedy in her book. “I have a job I love, and a cat to keep me company.”

“I like cats.” Max offers nervously, looking around the apartment and wondering what you think of the mess he has accumulated. “Sorry I’m not unpacked.” He offers, eyes finding you again and finding you just as pretty as he remembered. Maybe more so.”

“I didn't expect you would be.” A smile quirks up the corners of your mouth and you can’t help being glad to see his hair back to its natural brown. You had seen the blonde in his tv commercials and on the news — it didn’t suit him. “Hell, I think it took me a month to unpack and it was just me and Dantes.” You fluster slightly, finding his eyes on you. “That’s…that’s my cat.

“Dantes huh?” His lips quirk up in a grin, something that hasn’t happened in a long time. “Like the Inferno?” He jokes.

"I named him after the Count of Monte Cristo, but he's as temperamental as a volcano." He still has the most beautiful smile, it twists your stomach exactly the way it did when you were teenagers. "You can come over and say hi anytime you like. I'm just across the hall...and even if I'm at work Dantes loves company."

“Alistair would love that. He has always wanted a pet, but….” He frowns, remembering that he had always said that he would get him one later and later never came. Another failing. “He would love it.” He finishes lamely.

"Come over anytime," you repeat, smiling a little brighter when that old, familiar crease notches in Max's forehead. "I'm sure Alistair and Dantes will get along famously." It will have the added benefit of getting to see him sometimes, and despite feeling ridiculous for still nursing your schoolgirl crush, you won't deny yourself a small, private pleasure. "It's nice to have an old friend around again."

You had been a friend to him, one of the few. The bittersweet pang of regret thumps inside him and he nods. “That would be good.” He agrees. “My- my ex-wife had animals and he- he misses them.” He admits.

“No problem.” Instinctively your hand goes out to him, touching him gently on the arm. “But I’m…I’m sorry to hear that. The ex part…”

Max can only blame himself. He had spent too much time chasing his dreams and Genji had grown tired of waiting for him to pay attention to her. He was lucky she let Alistair live with him, although it left her able to travel with her new husband. He shrugs. “She is happier and I am grateful for our son.”

“Sounds like you got the winning end of the deal to me.” You offer him a smile, knowing that transitions can be difficult. And divorces are never easy either.

“Only after almost losing him.” Max acknowledges, frowning as he remembers how frightened Alistair was, and how he had to run away because of Max’s mistakes. “But that is now the past. We are here for a fresh start.”

“New York is a great place for a fresh start.” He’s probably more than sick of talking about what happened, and you have no desire to sully this unexpected little reunion, so you don’t say a thing about it. “Definitely more to do than in Lubbock,” you joke instead.

“What brought you here?” Max asks, interested in your life since he last saw you.

“The intense desire to get away from my mother.” It’s only half a joke, and you chuckle when the corners of his lips turn up in understanding. “I work for a publishing house in Midtown. It’s good work and decent pay. And it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than editing articles for the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal and sitting through tedious dinners with whatever men my mother was trying to set me up with.”

“You never married?” He frowns slightly, unable to believe that someone would not have snatched you up.

“I was engaged once. It…didn’t work out.” Finding out he’d been cheating on you for half your relationship doomed that marriage before it could even start. You’re just glad that you had found out about it before walking down that aisle. You’re almost grateful that that girl out in St. Louis had decided to call you up and cuss you out. “What they say about airline pilots might not be true of all, but it’s certainly true of some.”

“I’m sorry.” He winces and shakes his head. “He must have been an idiot to let you slip away.” You had been his dream girl for a long time until he had met Genji.

"He wanted the world on a string." It was what he always said. It just wasn't until later that you had realized what he meant by it. "Sounds like we both had idiots in our lives. Otherwise she wouldn't have let you get away, either."

“I was never there.” Max admits. “Even when I was. I was too focused on becoming someone.”

"You'll be there for him now." You can hear him playing in the back bedroom, crowing happily over a spaceman toy. "And he's lucky to have you."

“I hope so.” Failure is one of Max’s greatest fears and he’s already done that.

"You never could see how special you are." It slips out before you can stop it, a slight shrug of your shoulders is the best you can do in pseudo-self-defense. He never did think much of himself, but the more you had gotten to know Max, the more obvious it was to you that that was a result of how his father treated him.

“You don’t know the things that I’ve done.” It’s selfish but he hopes you never find out. “I better finish unpacking the kitchen before the pizza gets here.” He knows you wouldn’t want to stay and he doesn’t want to be rejected so he doesn’t invite you for the pepperoni pizza.

"I, uh--I'll get out of your hair." The way he shuts down breaks your heart a little, but you nod your understanding. You've overstayed your welcome and he has never felt as strongly about your friendship as you did. That's just...well, it's just life. "It's...it's really good to see you, Max."

“It’s good to see you again too.” He promises, smiling slightly. “I’m sure we will run into you again. We are neighbors.”

"Yes. It's good to see you, too." With your heart in your throat, you nod and make yourself smile as you step back to go out the door. "I'll see you around, neighbor."

****

“So prom is coming up.” Max frowns slightly as he walks with you. He’s nervous because you haven’t said anything about prom and you talk about everything. He wonders if you have a date that you don’t want to tell him about. “Are you going?”

"I don't think so." Walking home together has become a ritual. Today you wrap your jacket a little tighter as you walk to block out the early spring chill and try not to get excited about the question he's just asked. No one else had asked you to prom, that's true. But you would have turned them down anyway -- you've been holding your breath hoping that Max would ask. "Can't go to prom without a date."

“We should go.” Max argues. “It’s Senior Prom. We can’t miss out on memories like that.” He’s been working on the weekends with his dad to save up for a tuxedo rental and a corsage. “The theme is ‘Enchantment Under the Sea’.” He reminds you.

"You...want to take me to prom?" You know the smile on your face is far too wide, but this is exactly what you've been dreaming of. These walks home, spending a little time at his house before his dad gets home from work, even starting to chat a little with his mother sometimes. You may not be Max's girlfriend, but you want to be, and you've made every effort possible to show him that.

“If you want to.” Max bites his lip. “I know you will probably have someone else ask you, and it’s okay if you’d rather go with them, but I’ve been saving up to buy a corsage and take you out to eat.” He admits. “I’ve been working with my dad.”

"I want to." It's too quick of a reply to be ladylike, but you don't much care about that. Not when you're actually being asked by the right boy. "With you. I want to go to prom with you. Yes."

“Yeah?” He’s surprised, but grins happily. “Then let’s go to prom together.” He nods, beaming and his posture straightens proudly. “You and me, we will have fun.” He promises.

"Yes, we will." Already convinced of it, you don't care a single second for anything or anyone else in the world right now. Max asked you to prom. That's all you've wanted for ages. "I'm going to make my dress," you announce, smiling up at him as you walk down the sidewalk. "My mother has some extra fabric from a wedding that she made dresses for. It's the most beautiful shade of blue you've ever seen."

“That will be good.” He nods. “Do you want me to match your dress?”

"If you want to." The idea is a little thrilling - looking like you belong together - and you nod. "I think you'd look very handsome in blue."

“Then that will be the tuxedo that I order.” He promises, looking forward to the idea of going with you and seeing you dressed up. For him.

It doesn't seem real that he would actually want to go with you, but as you walk alongside him toward his house it feels like the very best kind of dream. He isn't shy about wanting the best of everything, and you always encourage him, but it isn't like you're the prettiest or most popular girl in school. There are other, arguably better choices. But he still asked you. "I can't wait."

He smiles, amazed that you had said yes. He doesn’t know why, but you seem to like being around him. “We will have a good time. Dance and see what the fuss is about.”

"I don't think I've ever seen you dance." There's no reason you would have, all things considered, but the thought spreads your smile a little further.

“I can dance.” He huffs, almost insulted by the idea that he couldn’t. The fact that he’s been practicing in his bedroom by himself is irrelevant.

"I never said you couldn't!" When he pouts like that it makes you want to find out if his lips are as soft as they look but you would never try to kiss him out of the blue. Only fast girls kiss boys they aren't going steady with - and your mother warned you what happens to fast girls. Well...she's said 'And you know what happens to fast girls, don't you?', but you were always too scared to admit that you didn't have any clue what she was talking about.

“Good, because I can.” Just to prove his point, he stops walking and grabs your hand to pull you into his arms to dance a small little circle around right there on the sidewalk.

It's like a movie scene when he reaches for you, his hand on your back burning through you despite the chilly weather. You could just melt right into the pavement on the spot. "Well, look at you," you hum, feeling breathless with your heart beating so fast. "A real dancer."

“All gentlemen know how to dance.” He informs you, grinning widely as he lets go and steps back to bow gracefully.

"Then I'll have to work on becoming a little more ladylike for you before prom." A soft giggle escapes you when he bows, and you shift your bookbag on your shoulder.

“Don’t change a thing about yourself.” He protests, shaking his head. “You are just right as you are.”

"You're very sweet." As the two of you turn to start walking together again, your hand itches to reach for his so you shove it in your pocket. "The sweetest boy in the whole world is taking me to prom."

There’s nothing that he can say to that, his mind going completely blank except to repeat that you think he’s sweet over and over again. He bites his lip and tries not to look too happy about your comment.

"Have you heard back from any colleges yet?" He has talked about wanting to go. You've talked about it together, and he has so many ideas for what his business degree could turn into that it makes your head spin. But he hasn't said yet if he has had any acceptance letters so it's made you wonder.

“A few.” He sighs and wishes that he were rich or his family was rich. “I can’t go though.”

"You have to have been offered scholarships." You know what trouble he would have with being able to go. It's the same one you have which is exactly why your own mother told you to stop being stupid and forget about it. Colleges, apparently, aren't for girls.

“Not enough for Harvard.” He had already done the math, several times and just couldn’t afford it. “I have to turn down an Ivy League school because I’m too poor.” It stings and he hates it.

"I'm so sorry, Max..." His dreams mean the world to him, and you know it. But there are some things that are beyond even his grasp. If you could find a way to make the world perfect for him you would do it instantly, but that dream is still out of your grasp.

“It’s not your fault.” He swallows. “Have you been hearing from colleges?”

"No." You shake your head, staring down at your shoes as you walk. "All that work you helped me put into the applications and my mother took them out of the mailbox and threw them away." The words ring in your mind, her voice echoing in your head. "College isn't for girls."

“College is for everyone.” He argues, immediately upset for you. You had worked hard on those applications and they were really good. You would have gotten three of your choices for sure. “We can redo them, hope they accept them late?” He offers quickly.

"She wouldn't help me with tuition." And unfortunately, he knows that you would need financial help to go to school, too. "I would have to get a full scholarship somewhere, and even with good grades I just don't know if it would happen."

“If you don’t try, you won’t ever find out.” He reminds you. “Great rewards sometimes require great risks.”

He has no idea that he sounds wise when he says things like that, and when you tilt your head to peek up at him again he's looking at you so earnestly that you sigh quietly. It makes your heart ache to know how special he is to you and that he couldn't ever feel that way about you, but you'll soak up every ounce of his attention while you can possibly get it. Before he goes off and conquers the world or something. "You really think so?"

“I do.” He nods seriously and frowns as he thinks. “After- after my parents are asleep, I could sneak over and help you.” He murmurs quietly. “Apply to your top three and I’ll mail them off from my house. That way she can’t throw them away.”

"Tonight." You decide, ready to believe anything is possible if he has that kind of faith in you. "Do you really think you can manage to sneak out? I don't want you to get in trouble on my account." His father could lose his temper over almost anything, and the last thing you wanted was for Max to suffer any extra. Not for you.

“I can.” He smirks slightly and straightens proudly. “We will make sure you go to college.” He knows you want to be an editor, maybe even a writer one day and he knows that a good college will make that happen.

Overwhelmed with the idea that it could be possible, you surge forward and grab his arm, planting a grateful kiss on his cheek before you pull away again just as fast. Your own face is burning, but just in this moment you find that you don't actually care that much. "Thank you," you murmur, beaming at him with gratitude and excitement. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve such a good friend. Thank you, Max."

“Thank you.” He murmurs quietly. “You are the one who befriended me.” He reminds you. You had pulled him into that classroom and saved him for another beating.

"I should have done it a long time ago." The embarrassment of not being braver stings, but there's nothing you can do besides swallow it down.

“No.” Max shakes his head. “You did nothing wrong. We all do what we have to. You were just trying to protect yourself.”

"Still." There isn't any point in wishing to change the past. You know that and he's right that you were trying to protect yourself. "You deserve the world, Max. Really."

“One day I will have the world.” He vows, grinning at you. “And so will you.”

****

It's a random, seemingly unimportant Saturday morning when a small knock sounds on your door. You had been sitting with a cup of coffee and a muffin trying to convince yourself to work on the draft of the book that you had been chipping away at for years when you heard it. Dantes mewed at the sound like it was rude for interrupting his long morning of staring at the ceiling, and you just laugh. "No, no," you chuckle at your cat. "Don't disturb yourself. I'll get it." The prim Russian Blue doesn't move when you get up from your seat and you peer through the peephole to see no one standing there at all. Opening the door curiously, you find a little boy with impossibly wide eyes standing on your doorstep. "Well, hello." You've seen this little boy before, coming in and out of the building or on the stairs, always hugging tight to Max's side. "You must be Alistair."

“Dad said that you have a cat that I could play with?” He asks, curious to find out the truth of this. “He knows I was coming over. He said he would be just a minute behind me. Is that okay?”

"Of course it is." Stepping back to let him inside, you point through the kitchen to the cat tree. "That's Dantes. Let me get you some of his favorite toys and a few treats you can give him, and you guys can play in the living room, okay?" This is a cat who loves kids, so you're sure everything will go well, but you want Max's son to go into the first meeting armed with all the right tools.

“Okay!” He grins at you and nearly bounces on his toes with glee. “I’m excited to meet him. I’ve wanted a pet for a long time but dad didn’t have time, but I don’t blame him.” He tells you seriously, nodding for emphasis.

“Your dad is doing his very best for you, and that includes making sure you had a neighbor with a cat to visit. You’re welcome to come over any time you like, and your dad is too.” You leave the door cracked open for Max to follow, careful that it isn’t enough for Dante’s to escape, and bring Alistair to get the cat’s favorite things so they can meet.

Max had been washing your plate to bring it over to you again. Alistair had been too eager and had decided that he couldn’t wait to go meet Dantes. Max didn’t have the heart to tell him to wait, so he had sent him over and hoped you would understand.

When he tentatively pushes the door open a few minutes later, Alistair is on the living room rug dangling a toy for Dante’s to bat around with a bowl full of kitty kibble and assorted small treats for the cat and a muffin and glass of juice for himself. You’ve set yourself back up at your little kitchenette table a few feet away, though your manuscript is now pushed aside in favor of the New York Times crossword. “Hey.” When you spy Max’s head peak around the door, you wave him in. “Morning, neighbor.”

“It’s not too early, is it?” He asks, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. “I wrangled him as long as I could.” He grins and shrugs. “But then breakfast was over.”

“It’s never too early.” Not for him is what you want to say, but instead you say, “not for friends.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Not until coffee for me. I used to take all these supplements and herbs, but now it’s just pure caffeine.”

“Can I pour you a cup? I always make a full pot for some reason and never drink it all.” Up and out of your seat before he can even answer, you’re grabbing a mug out of your cupboard and pulling out the bakery box from your trip down the block this morning. “I also have more muffins than one human can manage. I guess the wind told me to be ready for guests today.”

“I’m sorry we showed up unannounced.” Max winces and looks around. “If you have plans…..” He doesn’t want to intrude on your day if you are busy. It would be easy to get Alistair to leave. He’s been promising to take him to Central Park.

“I was going to sit and curse at my manuscript all day,” you admit with a shrug and pour out his cup. “You saved me from getting frustrated with myself.”

“Oh! A book?” He asks, remembering your dream of writing a book. “Is it your first? Or are you published under a pen name?”

"This would be my first. I've been fighting with it for years and I'm still not satisfied with the second half of the story." Coming back to the table, you set down a mug of coffee and the box of muffins for him with a plate. "Alistair asked for the chocolate chip, I hope it's okay that I said yes."

“Of course.” He can’t help but huff in amusement. “Probably better than the burned eggs and cereal we had for breakfast.”

“Help yourself,” you insist, motioning to the box. Sitting down across from him like this is oddly familiar - like your high school cafeteria should materialize around you any second - but you don’t dislike it.

“I appreciate it.” He’s remembering all the times you had eaten together over the years. Including the one meal he bought you before prom.

“How is the job search going?” The few little talks you had had in the stairwell or while grabbing your mail from the boxes in the lobby had clued you in to how Max’s life is running these days and it’s an unfortunate reality. Since the incident people have been wary of him and even downright rude.

“I will find something soon.” He forces out cheerily. “I am hoping that a few places will call me back.” He doubts it, but all he can do is hope someone gives him a chance.

“I know it isn’t…Your dream or anything, but the publishing house I work for is expanding so they’re hiring all sorts of positions.” It was something you had been discussing ad nauseam in the office and had been meaning to mention to him anyway. Now is as good a time as any. “I can get a complete list from my friend in HR if you like? And I’ll vouch for you if you decide to put in for anything.”

“Are you sure you want to be associated with me?” He asks seriously. Some of the comments you have made lead him to believe that you know what happened last winter. “I don’t want to put your profession or your own job at risk.”

“I’m sure.” You’ve always been sure about him. He might not understand it - hell, sometimes you didn’t always understand it - but that’s just how you feel about him. “I know you, Max. I trust you.”

“You haven’t seen me in twelve years before this week.” He reminds you quietly, looking down at the blueberry muffin in his hands. “I wasn’t a good man.”

“I might not know anything about Maxwell Lord,” you lower your voice, not conspicuously but not wanting to perk Alistair’s ears. “But I know Max Lorenzano. He helped me get into college. Took me to prom. Listened to every story and fear and triumph that I had for years. You were my best friend, Max. Let me repay you for helping me believe in myself.”

Max swallows harshly, overcome with the glowing review of a boy who had been so ashamed of being poor. It sounds like you preferred him. “Thank you.” He replies hoarsely.

“I know it’s been a while.” But you’ve thought about him constantly, and even though you might not admit that to him so that you don’t have to have an awkward conversation with your first love about him actually being your first love, you’re not shy about wanting to help. “I’d like to be friends again. Like we used to be.”

“Like we used to be.” He nods. Friends where a shy and awkward boy had an unrequited crush on you. He had survived it once and he could do it again to have you back in his corner.

“Alistair’s very sweet.” It changes the topic cleanly because you don’t want Max to get a whiff of the fact that your feelings for him have come back nearly full force. Not that he had any idea the first time around. Or if he did, he hadn’t let you know it. Instead you put your focus on his son, the excitable little boy that he has put all his focus in himself.

“He is a good kid.” Max can easily agree with that. “I don’t deserve him, but for some reason he loves me.” His eyes drift to the living room and he smiles when he sees Alistair petting Dantes and cooing happily at the attention loving cat.

If you were bold, you’d promise him that he’s not difficult at all to love, but you’ve never been bold. You hadn’t even been bold enough to kiss him at prom. Instead you smile warmly and pick up your coffee. “You deserve much more than you think.”

“I think we will have to disagree on that.” He murmurs, snorting softly. “I didn’t realize what I was doing until I almost lost him. An angry mob, coming for me, scared him and he was wandering the streets of D.C. by himself.” He stares down at his coffee mug, glad to get this off his chest. “I would have never forgiven myself if he had been hurt.”

“What is life if not making mistakes and learning lessons?” You had been watching right along with the rest of the world while it all happened, but being on the outside must have been a very different experience than being where he was on the inside. “He’s okay. He’s safe, and he has a father who loves him. In time you’ll learn to forgive yourself like he’s already forgiven you.”

“Perhaps.” Max won’t agree with that, but he also won’t count it out. “First I need to prove that I can be useful. Helpful.”

"Sometimes it's okay to just have fun, too." But you won't push. Or press. "I haven't seen you since college," you say instead. "What have you been up to, besides having that angel of a little boy?"

“Married…divorced.” Max sighs and shrugs. “Tried to make Black Gold work. I really did. Convinced I was going to find oil.”

"There are lots of places in the world with oil. It isn't so crazy to think that you would find some." Anytime you had seen his name in the papers, you had tried to follow it. Unfortunately it seemed to be more bad news than good for the last few years.

“Except I never did.” He has made an uneasy peace with his past and shrugs slightly. “Perhaps it was for the best. I certainly learned humility.”

"There must have been bright spots." You can't believe that his entire adult life has been miserable.

“Not as many as there were during our senior year.” He admits with a small chuckle. “I was chasing the dream and didn’t stop to admire the roses.”

"Maybe that's what this is, then." The urge to take it as a compliment to you is there, but it would be conceited to think that he means you were what made it good. "Time to stop and admire the world around you."

“Admire the world around me, huh?” He contemplates it for a moment, wondering where you go so wise, but then he remembers that you have been living your dream for some time. Max just needs to figure out what his new dream is. “I think you are right.”

****

It took a couple of weeks for Max to go through the interview process, and your bosses had pulled you into a conference room with an HR rep for an hour of round table "Are you fucking serious?" about the fact that your name is listed as a personal reference on his resume. In the end they had relented. In eight years with the company you had never had a single mark against you on your file and you're one of the most productive editors on staff. If they're going to take anyone's word at all about a potential new hire, it's going to be yours. Now, two weeks into Max's time as a member of the office's janitorial staff, your coworkers are starting to take notice. They've noticed that you arrive together every morning and leave together every evening, and that sometimes you chat quickly in the hall in passing. Almost all of them have recognized him at this point, of course, and it seems like they've deputized your closest work friend to ask you about him.

Max is eager to please, finding that the work is not beneath him as he might have once imagined. He pushes his cart around the offices with pride and tries to ignore the dirty looks and comments. Especially the prick in editing that purposefully made a mess for him to clean up. Seemingly enjoying watching Max clean up after him. He sees one of your co-works walking up to you so he doesn’t stop, just giving you both a respectful nod and a small smile as he makes his way to the bathrooms for their twice a day cleaning.

It’s good to see him taking pride in what he’s doing now. Tangible results of his work being something that seems to satisfy Max in a way you hadn’t expected but are grateful to see. “Hey Kim.” She’s buzzing directly over to you without being subtle, so you slow down to talk to her.

“Soooooooooo.” She lifts her brows and looks at Max’s retreating back. Instead of the boxy power suits he had been wearing, he was wearing a pair of work chinos and a polo shirt. Perhaps a little more dressy than most janitors but it’s an effort to look professional. “This is interesting.”

“The hallway?” You raise a skeptical eyebrow at her, continuing to walk back toward your desks at the other end of the floor. “I don’t know that I would call it interesting.”

“You know what I’m talking about.” She huffs and jostles your shoulder lightly. “Max Lord.” She clarifies, rolling her eyes. “How do you know him?”

Yes, you knew, but that doesn’t mean you’ve exactly been excited for someone to come asking about it. You know what people still think of him. “We grew up together,” you tell Kim honestly. “Same home town in Texas.”

“You grew up with Max Lord?” Her eyes widen and flutter back towards the hallway where Max’s cart is sitting outside the Men’s restroom.

“Yep.” Trying to not make it seem like a big deal, you shrug. “We were friends. Now he’s my neighbor and we’re friends again.”

“Friends.” She’s skeptical about that, but she can’t deny that Max is far more attractive in person than he was in those horrible television ads. “Uh huh, if you want to keep your cards close…” she eyes you, waiting to see if you say anything else.

“What?” Her face says she doesn’t believe you, and she’s fucking right not to but you do your best to look innocent.

“You haven’t noticed that - despite being Max Lord - your friendly, neighbor janitor is a very good looking man?” She scoffs slightly and sends you a knowing look. “And just your type based on the men you like looking at when we drag you out to happy hour.”

“There isn’t any despite being with Max,” you defend instantly, feeling a little indignant. “He’s a good guy who did wrong and he’s doing everything he can to rebuild his life now.” It’s bad enough he got bullied in school, he doesn’t deserve that bullshit at work, too. “And—” Clearing your throat carefully doesn’t help you sound less guilty at all. “I…don’t have a type.”

Her brows shoot up at the vehemence in your voice and she doesn’t remind you that he almost destroyed the entire world with that wish granting trick he had pulled. She doesn’t think that you would listen and you are a good friend. “If you say so.” She murmurs quietly. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

"There's nothing for me to get hurt about." A fact which makes swallowing hard for longer than you're proud of, and you avert your eyes back to watching your shoes tread the carpet like you used to do in the halls of your high school walking side by side with him.

“Do you want to come out with us tonight?” Sensing that you are wanting to change the subject, she obliges. “We are going out for apps and drinks.”

“Sure.” It’s been a while since you had a night out with the girls - since Max appeared in your life - and it sounds like a good idea. Like having fun instead of sitting in your apartment hoping and wondering if he’ll come over to say hello after already being at work together all day. “The usual spot?” There’s a bar not far from the office that does great food, and sometimes there’s single guys from other nearby offices to flirt with. It usually makes for an entertaining Friday night.

“Absolutely.” She nods, shooting you a grin.

“Okay. I’ll just let Max know.” It will be the first time since starting his job that he’s committed home alone, but it’s not a difficult trip. He already knows the connections by heart.

“You…..you should bring him.” Kim says after a moment. “Let him hang out socially. Might help.”

"Are you sure?" The look you give Kim is skeptical, knowing that some of the girls you usually get drinks with might not be so warm about getting to know Max. And usually there aren't many guys that tag along. "Are any of the guys coming tonight?"

“There’s Brad and Dan.” She acknowledges, shrugging slightly. “It could be good for them to see him as a normal man.”

"It would be good for them to see normal human interaction." You roll your eyes, but only playfully. Brad is more than a little bit of a horndog and Dan seems to have learned everything about how to be manly from Brad. It isn't a bad thought. Getting to get to know some people outside of their roles at the office is probably a really good idea, actually. Contemplating it for a second, you nod. "I'll invite him. But if he ends up not being able to come it's probably because his babysitter couldn't stay late on short notice, not because he doesn't want to be social."

“Then I won’t tell anyone that he might come.” She decides, knowing that surprising them might them best thing anyway. You both stop at your desk and she reaches out and touches your arm, “I don’t want you to be cross with me.” She tells you. “I just wanted to see what was going on.”

"I'm not cross." Kim has always been a good friend, and you squeeze her hand back gently. "I just wish it were easier for him to get the clean slate he came here for. But you're right. Socializing will be good."

“It doesn’t help that he broadcasted his mistake.” Kim reminds you quietly. “But I have to admit, he’s been nothing but polite since he’s been working here. And the bathrooms are spotless.”

"He knows he did wrong. And everyone deserves a chance to start fresh." At least, that's what you've always said. And so far you haven't had too many people who made you briefly regret your optimism. "It's nice of you to think of inviting him. He really is a good guy underneath everything that happened."

“He’s attractive.” She has to admit, “especially with the darker hair that looks more natural on him.”

“The blonde didn’t suit him.” A nostalgic smile drifts across your face that you barely even notice but Kim surely does. “He dyed it back to its natural color. The way he looked when we were growing up.”

“And you didn’t date?” She smiles skeptically.

“No.” A thing that makes you glance away and fluster more than you’re proud of. “We went to prom together, but we never went steady or anything.”

“Oh.” She nods and bites her lip. “Well, let me know about tonight, okay?” She doesn’t want you to be upset if it’s a case of unrequited love and that seems to be what it is.

“I will.” Your nod is enough to make her comfortable taking away, and it’s about an hour later that you catch Max moving across the hall to restock the kitchenette that services this floor of the building.

Max reasons that the staff of the publishing house is lucky. The management provides complimentary snacks and drinks beyond packs of peanuts and coffee. It’s really impressive and it makes him think of what he would have offered his own staff if Black Gold had actually become successful. He regrets how he had to tell Raquel that he couldn’t pay her that last paycheck, but he had managed to send it to her three months later when he had sold his house.

“Hey.” Slipping into the kitchen to pour a fresh cup of coffee, you grin seeing Max so diligent and seemingly satisfied with each thing he gets done. Any job is good that can be satisfying. “How’s your day?”

"I do not know how some people can be so disgusting in public." He shudders and shakes his head. "The men are the worst....but," he grimaces and lowers his voice. "I do not know how some could keep their....sanitary products unwrapped when they are used."

"Women are absolutely gross." You tell him sagely, nodding with a solemn expression to keep from giggling. "If Alistair had a sister you'd see it full force, I promise."

"I am not unused to women's monthly issues." He insists. "I was married to Alistair's mom and would often buy her the things she needed." When he remembered, which was less often than he should have. It was another regret he had, but he couldn't make up for it now.

"Speaking of things we do monthly." Waggling your eyebrows at the lame segue to make him laugh, your smile spreads when you get a confused look out of him. "Some of our coworkers are going out for drinks and stuff after work tonight. You're invited, if you'd like to call Señora Ramos and ask her to stay with Alisitair a little later."

His expression is one of shock and then he frowns. "I don't know if I should." He admits, glancing towards the door of the break room. "I don't want to cause you issues." He knows that you have taken some flack since you had convinced your bosses to give him a chance. Even if you deny it, he's caused you problems. The last thing he wants is for you to suffer more when you've been an incredible friend to him.

"You're not." And no matter how many times you need to repeat it, you always will. Max is never going to get his confidence back as long as he thinks of himself as a burden. And to you? He is anything but. "It might be good to spend time with people out of the office. Make some new friends?"

"I doubt that." He scoffs slightly and bites his lip. It would be nice to spend some time with you outside of the apartments and the office. Socially. Like that one dinner that he had managed to pay for all those years ago. "Do you want me to go?"

"Of course I do." There is no possible way you would want anything else, unless going out would truly make him unhappy somehow. "I love spending time with you." Yup. That's how that sentence goes. Absolutely.

He quietly thinks about it for a long moment before he nods. "I will call Señora Ramos and see if she can watch Alistair for a few more hours." He decides and despite his worries, his posture straightens and he looks excited.

"You deserve a night to be an adult," you remind him, but the way he straightens has you hoping that he's looking forward to it now. "I'll see you at the end of the day, okay? We can walk over to the bar together."

"I will see you then." He nods, knowing he will have to call the babysitter right away before he can really start looking forward to the idea of going out with you and your friends.

******

When the end of the work day comes, you're eager to leave your desk behind. Max hadn't come by your desk to tell you that there was a problem with plans for the evening so you're looking forward to being able to just relax with your friends - both old and new.

Max finishes up his work early, busting his ass to make sure he was done and able to put all of his supplies away and be ready for you at the elevators on time. He has gotten the go ahead from Señora Ramos and was looking forward to buying you a drink.

"Ready to go?" Though you beg your mind not to brim with memories of him picking you up for prom, they're at the top of your mind anyway as the elevator opens and Max strides out into the lobby.

"I am." He had to dry his hands on a paper towel on the way down to the lobby and shove it in his pocket. "Are you?" He asks, lifting his brows and giving you a chance to reconsider. He wouldn't blame you.

"Absolutely." You would take his hand under different circumstances. As it is, your fingers twist around the strap of your purse as you nod toward the doors. "Kim and some of the others just went ahead to grab us tables."

“Oh.” He frowns slightly but nods. “Then we should hurry, no?”

"It's not a race." It does make you chuckle, though, and you nod toward the doors before starting to walk. "We're five minutes behind at the absolute most."

"Where do you normally go to do this 'happy hour'?" Max asks as he guides you out of the building and lets you turn him in the right direction.

"There's a place called Pollard's a couple of blocks away that has really good drink deals and small plate stuff. I'm a big fan of filling myself with margaritas and flatbread on a Friday night." In fact it was something of a ritual, and you're glad to share that with him if he's inclined to it. Alistair is a strict cheese-only kind of kind when it comes to pizza but there is a whole world of more adult flavours to get behind.

"It has been a long time since I have had a margarita." He admits, wondering how you act when you have alcohol. Genji used to make fun of him for being too earnest, too eager to please when he was drunk. He had switched to champagne to make himself seem more sophisticated but actually hated the taste.

"Then you'll have to share with me." The idea lights you up inside and you nudge him while you walk. "They do this margarita tower thing...it sounds impressive but it's two or three drinks each and ridiculously cheap. Best margaritas in the city."

"Then we will have that." Max grins and nods. "And you like the...flatbreads?" He doesn't know what it is, but you seem happy about having one.

"It's just fancy pizza." You grin when he sounds confused and put your nose in the air while you walk. "Fancy metropolitan pizza. I thought you might like a change of pace from all the cheese all the time."

Max groans and rolls his eyes. "Aliastair has to try something else." He pouts slightly. "Even if it's just pepperoni."

"One day we'll have him eating a huge variety. But not quite yet." That pout hasn't changed in twenty years. It still makes you want to wrap him up in your arms and cuddle it away. Which is why you immediately shove your hands in your pockets when you see it. "For now, we'll have some adult treats."

"Something other than Fruit Loops." Max snorts with a grin. "He had me buy two boxes when we went to the bodega last weekend."

"I promise." You hold up your pinky to him after scurrying across a busy street. "No Fruit Loops."

Chuckling as he rings his own pinky around yours, he feels like he's back in high school with you. Promising that he won't become friends with your cousin, as if that could have ever happened. "I want to buy your drinks and food tonight." He tells you.

"You don't have to do that." In fact, you had been planning on just paying the tab for both of you. Considering that you're the one who invited him, you didn't want him to feel pressured or have to count pennies.

"I want to. To say thank you." He shoves his hands into his pockets and concentrates on the steps in front of him. "For helping me find the job, for being a good friend." He lowers his voice slightly. "For not hating me."

"I could never hate you." Sure there had been things you didn't understand. Or times you were hurt when he lavished attention on other people. Like the girls at college that he had told you about during their holiday breaks. But hate? You could never. "I'm glad to have my best friend back."

Friend. He reminds himself that was what he was to you. No more. He frowns slightly as he suddenly thinks about something that makes his heart drop. "You- is there someone you meet at your happy hour meetings?" He asks, slightly jealous of the idea.

"There's a couple of people who always come. Kim, Jennifer, and Gretchen for sure. And usually Carmen. Apparently this time Brad and Dan are coming, too," you tell him, fully misunderstanding the question.

"And which one are you happiest to see?" Max asks, happy mood suddenly souring.

"I mean...usually Kim, I guess?" It's impossible to stop on the pavement in the middle of Midtown, but you tilt your head and your forehead furrows when he looks upset. "Why? Do you...not like some of them?"

"I see." He shakes his head. "No, I do not know them." He reminds you. "I understand now why it never...." He breaks off and shakes his head again, adopting a charming smile. "Never mind, I am eager to meet your friends."

There's a train of thought there that you can't quite follow, but you nod vaguely and keep walking. The two of you are quiet when you pull open the door to Pollard's and Kim waves enthusiastically from a place in the corner where a half dozen small tables have been pushed together for your group. "Looks like we're over there."

Max hangs back slightly, both wary of everyone's reception of him and mulling over the knowledge that you had never been interested in him because you liked women. He had wondered why you never seemed to want to take things farther with him. One of the reasons he had looked so hard for someone in college, to get you off his mind.

After giving hugs to your friends and sitting down beside Kim, you pull out the chair on your other side for Max. The group looks like they've been told to behave themselves - something you'll thank Kim for later - and you look around you only to notice that he hasn't sat down yet. "Max?"

"Hello." Max nods to everyone and bites his lip. "Do you mind if I join you?" It's important that he doesn't insert himself where he's not wanted. Something that he would do too often in his bid for respectability and investments.

"You're more than welcome," Kim insists, waving her hand at the chair on your other side. Everybody had agreed to play nice tonight for your sake. Generally speaking you're just too nice for your own good, and most of your extended work-friend group is curious. "Food here is great. I don't know if our girl told you or not on the way over."

Our girl. Max smiles politely and sits. "She has told me about the margaritas and the flatbread pizzas." He nods and looks around at everyone and wonders what they really think about him being here. "So I believe I will like it."

"Let me guess," Kim hums, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "Margarita tower?" "Of course." It's kind of your go-to anytime you have someone to share it with, and you stretch out with a happy grin at the table. "Max needs a rest from the world of juice boxes and cheese pizza."

"You have a child?" Jennifer asks curiously. "I didn't know that."

"His son's an angel." You offer, smiling at Max, who looks uncomfortable again. "He's my cat's new favorite playmate."

“Alistair is eight.” Max tells them. “The best son anyone could ask for. Sweet and kind, loving.” All traits that Max needed to improve on as an adult, but Alistair’s faith in him, your faith in him, kept him pushing forward.

“Eight is such a good age.” Gretchen goes a little dreamy. Everyone knows her kids are hell on wheels now that they’re teenagers, and she misses when they were little. “Curiosity is at a premium at that age. They’re like little sponges. And so sweet. Oh you’re so lucky.”

"Very lucky." Max can wholeheartedly agree with that. "We have been exploring the museums on the weekends and he asks so many questions that the tour guides don't know." It makes him regret not taking him to more museums while they were in D.C., but he is enjoying the outings with his son and is proud of his curiosity.

“Does he have a library card yet?” She asks, obviously enjoying memories of that age. “My youngest loved the themed story hours until she was eleven or twelve.”

“He doesn’t, but I should get him one.” Max tilts his head in interest. “He loves to read and watch movies.”

“It’s worth it.” Gretchen promises with a smile, and she picks up her menu. “No matter where you are in the city, you can always find a branch.”

“Thank you.” Max replies sincerely. “I will take him to get a card this weekend. We are planning on picnicking in Central Park.” He chuckles. “Which, to Alistair, means pizza at the park.”

“Central Park and the library sounds like a perfect day.” It twists your heart a little - the number of times you’ve thought about what would have happened if you have been brave enough to tell Max how you felt years ago. If Alistair would be your little boy instead of someone else’s. The result has been that you soak up every minute of time that Max’s son is willing to spend with you.

“Would you like to come with us?” Mac is always happy to have you with him. You make the even brighter with your company, just like when you were in high school.

"I'd love to." There's no hesitation for you. No question or even need to consider. Any chance you get to spend with Max, you're going to take it. "You guys have been spending a lot of time together, huh?" Kim asks, amusement twitching in the corner of her mouth. She had thought that you were acting a little defensive earlier because of some unrequited thing, but now she thinks you might just be oblivious to how requited it could be. Not that she would ever get mixed up with a guy like Max Lord, but you seem to have a unique history with the guy.

“She has been very kind to us.” Max is careful to not sully your reputation with telling them how most evenings are spent together and you’ve taught him to make more than mac and cheese with hot dogs for dinner. “New York is very different from D.C. and we are grateful to have someone who knows the area like she does.”

"Rekindling the old friendship, right?" It's a little bit of prodding, sure, but she's also trying to peel away at that Maxwell Lord veneer that they all saw on tv for so long and make him a real person to your other friends.

“I was very lucky to have her as my friend.” Max admits, looking down at his hands shyly. “Believe it or not, I was not well liked when I was younger.” He chuckles at how true that still was, although that was because of his mistakes rather than his misfortune of being poor or an immigrant.

"Neither of us was," you amend, not wanting him to feel singled out by that fact. "If not for Max, I wouldn't have survived senior year. And I definitely wouldn't have gone to college."

“That was a long night.” He remembers, smiling slightly at the memory. “But your admission papers were perfect.” He had sent them off like he had promised and you had been accepted to all of them, with scholarships.

"My mother was furious." A fact which makes you giggle now, so many years later. "Until it became a bragging point. She found out that one of the colleges I applied to was all women, and suddenly I was making a modest, pious choice to educate myself to be a good wife." You roll your eyes heavily, knowing that your years at Sarah Lawrence had radicalized you in ways that your mother could never have dreamed of. "Imagine her disappointment when I went and got a career after college instead of a husband."

“She should be proud of you.” Max shakes his head, still unable to believe what your mother had put you through. “I was. I am. You are in a prestigious position and working on becoming a published author.”

"All thanks to you, it sounds like." Kim is actually smiling, and Gretchen's expression has turned from curious to fond. "You know, this is the most we've ever been able to get her to open up about the old days. Normally she just glosses over any hometown or family questions."

“Oh.” He tosses you a look, hoping that he has not overstepped. “Life was not great for us, but we managed together and we had fun. Prom was possibly the best night of my life until the day Alistair was born.”

"Did you go to prom together?" Gretchen looks like she might melt at that, while Brad and Dan are clearly regretting that there isn't something less girly to talk about.

“Yeah.” Max nods and grins slightly. “It was a good night. We had fun and I still have the pictures we took.”

"You still have those?" Somehow you hadn't expected that, and it makes you light up and soften at the same time. "My mother got rid of my copies...along with pretty much everything else."

“She was always a…difficult woman.” Max sighs. “Genji made sure that she kept them when we divorced but returned all my stuff when we moved to New York.”

"Sounds like your ex-wife and my mother would have gotten along well," you grumble sympathetically when the waitress appears to take your drink orders.

Max defers to you, letting you order first and adding a glass of water in addition to the margarita tower.

Several beers, Gretchen's Long Island Iced Tea, and Kim's white wine selection later, you're all engrossed in looking through food options. The reason you like this place that is it's easy to blend into the background and still get decent service. Yours isn't the only office that empties into this building on a Friday night, and a group of tables nearby is taken up by some folks from a nearby marketing firm that you recognize as fellow regulars. It's just a cordial, relaxed atmosphere that is more than welcome after a long work week.

“They have a lot of options.” Max hums as he looks through the menu. “Have you had anything other than the flatbreads?”

"Not much," you admit with a guilty grin. "Do you want to try something else? I don't mind broadening my horizons a little."

“We could always get the appetizer thing.” He points to a sampler. “And your flatbread. Splitting it and trying more things?”

"If that's what sounds good to you, I'm in." He could suggest almost anything and you would go along with it, so this is barely a compromise. All you want is for him to enjoy himself tonight.

He nods, smiling at you and relaxing slightly. No one has been rude yet and it feels almost like the old days, although he’s still slightly upset he never realized that you were into women.

It's a comfortable evening, with people loosening up after some drinks and food. Brad drags Jennifer away from her seat to dance at one point, even though this is definitely a bar that does not have a dance floor. It's warm and comfortable and there is something extra in the air tonight that is probably just the margaritas talking, but it has you smiling and laughing even more than usual.

As the evening goes on, Max relaxed a little more. Somehow the buttons of his polo pop open and he leans back and ruffles his hand through his hair as the alcohol mellows him out. Sticking close to you and to Kim, he has tried to figure out the dynamic and it’s driving him crazy. He wants to be a good friend and be supportive of you, but he also wishes that he had taken that chance so many years ago and kissed you when it seemed like the right moment for it.

You're just too good to be true...can't take my eyes off of you...you'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much... Frankie Valli croons through the speakers in the bar, making your head jump up and your eyes snap over to Max. Like the memory of senior prom wasn't enough, that song throws you back in time harder than a slingshot.

******

Max tries to suppress his nerves, praying his hands aren’t sweaty as he guides you through the song. It’s romantic and one that he’s heard before, making him think of you. At long last love has arrived….And I thank God I'm alive “Are you having a good time?” He asks, desperately hopeful that you don’t hate the night with him.

"Of course I am." You're here with him, there's nothing realistic that you could think of to make it better. Realistic being the key. Those little daydreams you've had about going out to Lover's Lane with him or cuddling up under the stars? Those are just fantasies. "A--are you?"

“I am.” He nods and smiles at you. “Your dress is the prettiest one here.” You had taken his breath away and he was grateful that the corsage matched and his suit complimented it.

"Do you think so?" The pattern is a little old fashioned probably, but you love it. the flowers that you had carefully embroidered for embellishment and the few crystals that you managed to get your hands on had made you hopeful that he would like it, but your mother had scoffed that boys don't care what dress you wear. After that, even though you had finished the dress, you had been a little less giddy about it.

“It is beautiful. I cannot believe that you made it yourself.” He smiles and reaches up from your back to rub the edge of your shoulder strap. “If you wanted to, you could be a very accomplished seamstress.”

"Maybe I'll just make my own dresses." You beam at him, unable to contain how hard you're smiling at such a compliment. "Dinner dresses to go out in. Or even my wedding dress one day."

“It would be breathtaking.” His heart pounds in his chest thinking about your wedding day. Painfully wishing that he was the lucky man who got to meet you in front of the priest.

"Not that...that I think that will happen any time soon." Mostly because you can't picture the day at all with anyone but him, and he doesn't seem to like you that way. Even all through the nice dinner he took you to before the dance tonight, he hadn't tried to hold your hand or anything. Which is okay. It's not like you don't know that boys don't like you. But you're trying not to lose hope before the night is over.

“No, you must get through college first.” Max insists seriously. “It is important that you establish your dreams first.” Max decides that he will become wealthy before he asks you out, not wishing for you to pity him. He had been so nervous tonight he couldn’t form the words to ask you to the movies, even though he wanted to.

"I've been waiting for the right time to tell you." Deciding that this is it - this moment, this dance, this song, you are absolutely beaming at him. "I spoke with the financial department at Sarah Lawrence yesterday. They're actually going to give me enough scholarships and grants that I can manage it."

“What?” Max gasps, lighting up. “That’s great.” He lunges forward to hug you tightly, excited that you were getting to have your dream despite your mother trying to sabotage you.

“It’s all thanks to you.” You hug him back tightly, nearly giggling with excitement. “I never could have gotten it all done alone.”

"You could have." He protests, but he beams at your praise. "We will both have our college degrees in no time and I will know a famous publisher and you will know a powerful businessman."

Know. You will know each other. Nothing more. You try so hard not to let your smile dim and end up clinging to him a little harder. If you weren't so terrified of losing him altogether then you wouldn't care what the other girls said. You could live with being considered 'fast' for kissing him first if you were just brave enough.

You seem so happy by the prospect, he bites his lip and wonders if he imagines that you sometimes look at him like you want to kiss him. Perhaps it is just his own wants projecting onto you, he has a habit of doing that, but he cannot help it with you. If he had one person in the world to save, it would be you. Whispering your name, he gathers the shreds of his courage and presses slightly closer to you.

For a second you can't tell if it's your imagination or if the world really has stopped moving around you. Your vision has narrowed down to just him and he's filled your other senses -- but when does he not? When do you ever think of anyone in the whole world before Max? Sometimes you could swear he thinks of you as more than just a friend, and right now his hands grasping you a little tighter has your heart jumping directly into your throat as it starts to beat wildly out of control.

Staring into your eyes, Max wets his lips, finding them suddenly dry and chapped. He doesn't want your (hopefully) first kiss to be dry. He swallows again and decides to go for it. His fingers flex on your hip and his eyes drop down to your lips as he leans in more. "Ladies and gentleman! It is time to crown our prom King and Queen!"

The sheer volume of the announcement has you both jumping out of your skins, startling apart from each other like a cartoon and breaking the moment. You could have sworn that he was inching closer to you. He looked like he was going to kiss you. And now you've completely lost it.

Max's heart sinks down to his toes and he gives you a small smile before the two of you turn towards the stage. Cursing himself for not being fast enough, the moment is gone and with it, his courage.

******

“Did you have fun tonight?” Walking from the subway stop to your apartment building, you have your hands once again shoved into your pockets in that long-established custom of keeping yourself from reaching for him. A few margaritas each has you feeling loose and relaxed, but it isn’t like you’re not in control of yourself.

"It was really fun." Max sounds bewildered, as if he was surprised that having drinks with your co-workers, his co-workers could be a pleasant time. "I see why you like her." He still feels bad that he hadn't noticed it before, but he's trying to be there for you.

"Bars are girls?" You ask him, wondering why he gave a building a pronoun. Maybe it's one of those weird things like how cars and ships are female somehow.

"Nooooooo." He manages to giggle slightly, fully feeling the effects of the alcohol now. "Not the bar." He snorts and nearly trips over a piece of the sidewalk that has lifted up and he stumbles forward before straightening and looking down in bewilderment. "Kim."

"Did you not like her before tonight?" If he had disliked her you hadn't noticed, and that makes you feel a bit silly. But the silly might also be the couple of margaritas you had.

"No, I like her." He shakes his head, not willing to let you think he doesn't like your crush. "I think that she's nice. I see why you like her." He stresses. "I'm jealous."

"Why are you jealous?" That makes you frown very deeply, and your nose wrinkles. "She's just my friend." Not your best friend, or anything more -- like you've always considered him to be.

"I can't help it." Max hangs his head and his shoulders round slightly. "I will get past it. Support you."

"Stop." At the front door of your walk up, you swing around in front of him and put both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stand a little bit taller and actually look at you. "What are you talking about? Support me how?"

"By being happy for you." He frowns and motions towards you like it should be obvious.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Your head drops and shakes animatedly, a pout turning down the points of your lips. "I'm fine, I guess? But I'm not...happy happy."

"Because you have not told her." Max nods, understanding and reaches out and takes your hand. "You must, otherwise you will live with regret. Like I do."

He isn't making any sense, but his large hand covering yours is warm and making you fuzzier than even the tequila had. "I should tell Kim that she's my friend?" You ask, trying to understand him. "She knows that already."

"No." Max winces and shakes his head. "You should tell her that...." he closes his eyes, in pain for the lost chance, or maybe the chance that never was. His unrequited heart aching. "That you love her." He whispers.

The swirling confusion that started at your toes and went all the way up to fogging your brain stops dead, and all of a sudden you're standing up - stone sober - in front of Max with a clarity that makes you feel more foolish than you ever have in your life. More foolish than the first time you ever met a lesbian, way back in college. "But..." you look at him with resignation in you somewhere. "I don't. I mean she's my friend and I love her platonically but...did you think I was gay this whole time?"

"You shouldn't have to hide it." Max swallows and opens his eyes. "I figured it out, it- it hurts because I know that my feelings would never be returned, and I wondered if I imagined the times you looked like you wished- it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I am your friend and I will be here for you. Be your friend, no matter if I am jealous."

If the last revelation hadn't instantly sobered you, this one certainly would. You're practically gawking at him in the middle of the sidewalk as people move around you in all directions. "What feelings?" You insist - demand - feeling your heart strangle in your chest so tightly it could rip into pieces.

His shoulders round again and he sends you a look that is a mixture of humiliation, apology and heartache. "Please don't- I had tried so hard to move on from you in college, to pretend that it didn't matter that you would never date poor Max." He chokes out. "You- you have been exactly like you were in high school, of course my infatuation with you came back."

"Is this some kind of joke?" You never thought that Max would be cruel enough to pull a practical joke this personal on you, but your hands retract and you cross them over your chest like a very poor set of armor. "If it is, it's mean, and I never thought you were mean. But pretending you had a crush on me when I've spent my entire life in love with you is just cruel."

Max frowns, unsure of what you mean when he has just told you his feelings, but he swallows harshly. "I- I didn't- I'm sorry." He gulps, having completely missed your confession of love. "I know you don't - it's - I can't help it. You have always been the girl I wish I kissed that night at prom." He murmurs quietly, shoulders slumping even more and he turns to walk away, sure that you want nothing to do with him now.

It's too much to process and yet your mind gets through it at lightning speed. Fast enough with your reflexes to throw yourself through the other door of your apartment building and end up in front of him, your body is reacting a lot faster than you can even tell it to. He's barely inside the lobby before you're in front of him, and both of your hands hit his chest at the exact same time. Grasping the collar of his shirt to bring him down to you, this is the moment of boldness that all missed opportunities has been building to. If you miss this, you miss everything. And unlike prom, there is no dj to interrupt you this time when you pull him down to you and press your lips to his.

The alcohol and the melancholy fade instantly and his eyes widen, his groan of surprise loud against your lips but he doesn't pull away. He can't. Not when he has you pressed up against him and kissing him. His arms snake around your body and he pulls you close, deepening the kiss and feeling you melt against him.

It seems completely impossible for this to be happening, but he has deepened the kiss instead of pushing you away, letting you slide your tongue along the seam of his lips and inviting you inside the map the contours of his mouth the way you've dreamt of ten thousand times. Your hands clutch each other inelegantly, holding on for dear life, but you don't care how awkward it looks from the outside - you've been waiting for this moment for more than twenty years.

All he can think of is you. How you sound, how you taste. So much better than his imagination twenty years ago and even just today. Unable to believe that this is real as he fulfills a fantasy he never thought he would get to have.

In true city-life fashion, what breaks you apart is not a lack of enthusiasm, but the grumbling of a loud neighbor who shouts, "Get a room!" As he storms out the front door with his arms thrown up in disgust, as though two people kissing is the most offensive thing he has seen in his entire life.

Max flushes and looks back at you, wondering how you feel about the kiss that was just shared and his heart is pounding in his chest. “I- what was that?” He asks, unable to stop the goofy grin from spreading across his face.

"It's what I wish I had done in high school," you admit, the adrenaline making your heart beat wildly in your ears as you seem to vibrate in place. "What I wish I had done every single day. I was scared my whole life, Max. But then I finally said it and you didn't hear me and that scared me more than anything else in the world. That I could have told you and you still didn't know."

“You- you like me?” He asks dumbly, shaking his head and points to himself. “Me?”

"Yes, you." But since Max has had as terrible a time believing in his own self-worth as you have, there is no bite to your insistence. "Since well before senior year, if I'm honest. But courage isn't my strong suit."

“I- you don’t like Kim?” He frowns in confusion and closes his eyes. “Me. You like me. You’ve liked me.” He repeats softly. “Why?”

"Because...even though we were different we had important things in common. We had a whole town and our own families telling us to give up on our dreams and we worked our way up from the dirt. Both of us. You're...you're so smart, Max. And so much sweeter than you have ever given yourself credit for. And unbearably handsome, even when we were teenagers and everyone was some kind of gawky and awkward. You just...you made me want to be a better, stronger person." You shrug slightly, suddenly feeling self-conscious all over again, and shove your hands back in your pockets. "I always thought if I learned enough about the world and showed you I could be as smart as you that you might...you might think I could be more than just your friend. But when you came home from college you would always tell me about other girls and I just...I figured that if I had ever had a chance, I lost it on prom night."

“I didn’t think I had a chance.” Max admits quietly. “Believe me, I wanted you. You were just always way too good for me.” He shrugs his shoulders and shoves his own hands in his pockets. “I was lying about the girls. No one was talking to me. Not until Genji. I was trying to impress you, but you just seemed to be okay with it, so I thought you were just my friend.”

“I just wanted you to be happy,” you murmur, wishing you had been better at seeing the signs or braver about asserting your own desire. “Even if it was with someone else…even if it broke my heart.”

“I wish I had told you how I felt. Alistair could have been ours together. But I would not have wanted you to leave me like Genji.” Max murmurs.

“I wouldn’t have left.” He may not believe you, but it’s true. Some people would probably call you blind with devotion. Maybe it is? Who knows. “When you were up there…Doing your broadcast?” The breath you let out is shaky at best. “I just kept wishing you could hear me. That that might make a difference to you somehow…I guess it didn’t work.”

Max frowns slightly and tilts his head. “What was I supposed to hear? There was one voice in my head that kept telling me to be happy.”

“To remember your happiness?” You look up at him with such hope that it is almost too much, but you can’t help it. “Maybe it was conceited of me. Or desperate. I just wanted you to remember that people love you as you are.”

“To remember my happiness.” Max nods. The influx of emotions and wishes were much more than he had anticipated and it seemed to jumble together at one point but that voice stood out. “That is...something I am working on.” He admits quietly.

"If that isn't me...or you don't want to..." Looking around reminds you that you are very much in public still and you press your lips together nervously. "Maybe we should talk about this upstairs?"

“Upstairs. Yes, upstairs.” He glances around and flushes slightly. “We should talk upstairs. And I can let Señora go home. Alistair should be asleep.”

When you make it up to his apartment, Señora Ramos is watching a movie on tv without a care in the world. Alistair apparently tired himself out reading an hour ago and all has been quiet since.

“So-“ as soon as the door closes behind Señora Ramos, Max is nervous and claps his hands together. Feeling vulnerable now that you know everything. “Do you….want….” He looks around. “A drink! Do you want a drink?”

“Maybe just water.” After the amount you both had earlier, and what you have to talk about, you want a chance to clear your head.

“Water is good.” He agrees, bobbling his head and rushing towards the small, galley style kitchen that he was lucky to have. Some apartments didn’t even have a kitchen.

“Max…” Leaning against the counter, you take down two glasses and slide them over to him. “You don’t have anything to be nervous about.”

“Sure I do.” Max snorts, opening the freezer to grab the ice tray. “It’s not like you tell the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were twelve that you thought she was a lesbian.”

“I’m still wondering why you thought that.” Mostly out of curiosity, of course. Though the news that he’s liked you as long as you’ve liked him is both satisfying and a little bittersweet. You could have had something so long ago if just one of you had been brave.

“You said that Kim is the person that you most enjoyed, you never talk about any men, now or back in school.” He shrugs, mildly embarrassed. “I know that people have been….more open….than they were back when we were close. Maybe…I don’t know, maybe I thought it made sense.”

“I never talked about boys I liked to you because I’ve always liked you.” It isn’t exactly an easy thing to admit to him, but the cat is very much out of the bag at this point. “Kim has been my closest friend for a long time. I absolutely adore her. But my love for her isn’t romantic. She’s like the sister I never had.”

"I am foolish." Max hangs his head and sighs. "I am sorry." He murmurs quietly.

“Please don’t be.” Stepping cautiously closer to him in his little kitchen, you take the glass of water he hands you and have a sip. “If you hadn’t thought so, you might not have said anything. And then we never would have come clean.”

He hadn't looked at it that way and he bites his lip as he watches you. "What do you want?" He asks softly, still irrationally fearful of rejection, but also hopeful.

It’s a vague question, but the context is so specific. Specific enough that you are shocked he feels the need to ask, but grateful that he isn’t simply assuming. “Ideally?” You ask, and wait for him to nod shyly. “I want what I’ve always wanted. To be with you. But I understand if that’s too much to ask.”

"I- you know that people hate me, no?" He asks, scrunching up his brows. "Mi amor, it would be hell to be with me. Are you sure that is what you want?"

It isn’t a trick question, but you put down your water after another sip and hoist yourself up to sitting on the edge of the counter. “I want you to respect me. To love me and treat me well, and listen to my day regardless of whether it was good or bad. I want you to trust me and talk to me and confide in me and be silly with me. I don’t give a damn what anybody else thinks of you. Be a good partner to me and I’ll be one to you, and that’s all that matters.”

"I do respect you." He promises. "I wasn't a good partner, not to Genji, but I want to be one. I will be one for you." He knows that he has made mistakes, but he feels like he won't make them again. His ideas for success have changed and as long as he can take care of his son and provide him with a happy, safe childhood, he will consider himself blessed.

"Then that's all I need to know." The shy smile on your lips tips up the corners of your mouth and you shrug guiltily. "Almost all." You admit when he gives you an incredulous look. "I also kinda want to know if you meant it when you called me amor a second ago..."

His eyes widen when he realizes his slip of the tongue and his tan complexion darkens further as he flushes in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say it, but it was something that he thought often. "Yes." He admits quietly, but his shoulders don't round. "I did."

“Then that’s all I need to know.” You know your cheeks are burning but you truly don’t care. This is more than half a lifetime of pining coming to a head right now and you are so unbelievably touched that you aren’t the only one that has held onto the flame this long. It makes it special in a very unconventional way - as if you were being rewarded somehow.

He doesn't quite understand what you might be thinking but he nods. "Yes." He murmurs, wondering what he could say right now that would be interesting and flirty.

“So…” You shift slightly on the counter and tilt your head at him. “Are you sure you want to be with me, then?”

Max has had to bluff his way through many meetings, promising things that he couldn’t give the men who wanted to invest with him, or were thinking of investing with him. He doesn’t use that smarmy, painted on charm to reassure you. This time, it’s his own thin courage that has him stepping closer and reaching out to hold onto your waist as he steps closer again. “Yes.” His voice breaks softly from how low it dips. His lips curving up slightly. “Very sure.”

"Better late than never, right?" The warmth of his hands seeps through your clothes, waking up every inch of your skin and making you sit up a little straighter as he comes closer. That little smile of his is contagious.

“Only a lifetime of regret and enough stories to fill a book.” Max snorts.

"Some things are good enough to slog through all the hell for," you remind him softly. "It gave you Alistair."

“It brought me back to you. As well.” He reminds you, smiling at the thought. “But I want to do something else right now.”

"Oh you do, do you?" There is a distinctly boyish - maybe even mischievous - expression on his face that you've never seen before and it works for him. "What would that be?"

“I want to kiss you.” He admits, leaning in and his eyes flicker to yours. “Can I kiss you?” You had kissed him before, so he wants to do this.

It's beyond you to not be excited about it, even more than a little giddy as you nod and let your legs naturally slide apart to make a place for him to stand between them at the counter. "As much as you want."

He steps forward again, this time fitting himself in the space you allocated for him and leans in more, pressing the evidence of his desire against your belly as he cups your cheek and drops his lips onto yours.

The first press is soft but sure, and you almost startle feeling him press so obviously against you, but it is delicious. Instead of drawing away or jumping back or politely pretending not to notice, you lean in that much more surely and trap his hard on between both of your bodies. You may not have soaked through your panties just yet, but the heat rolling off of you is unmistakable. as unmistakable as your enthusiasm for kissing him again.

Groaning, he’s happy you don’t push him away. Instead you’re pulling him closer and his arms are wrapping around you to deepen the kiss.

Your knees bracket his hips, holding him tight against you and letting yourselves get lost in the moment. It's slower this time, deepening less frantically but no less ardently. Twenty years of wanting from both of you is being poured into this moment and you'll be damned if you're going to rush it.

He doesn’t try to push this beyond a kiss, although he aches to. He has no idea how long he leans into you, making out with you as if you are teenagers again.

No one could accuse either of you of a lack of enthusiasm. If you had not already been sitting on this counter you might have swept everything off of it just to get him to sit you here, enjoying what easy access you have to all of the most important parts of him. Access that - despite the fact that you have absolutely soaked through your panties and probably your pants as well - you don't know if you should be taking. Pulling yourself back from the edge of control and catching your breath is tricky, but you focus your eyes on him and feel your heart skip that all-important beat. "Max..." As much as you want to whine, your voice pitches down to be soft and rasping. "Is it too fast to ask if I can touch you?"

He’s conflicted. Not because he thinks it’s too fast, but he’s still coming to terms with the idea you want him. “You-“ he clears his throat when his voice breaks again. “You can do whatever you want to me.” He answers honestly.

"Then we should not stay in this kitchen." The grin you flash him is mischievous but oh so promising, and your hands slide up his shoulders to let your fingers just touch the trim edge of his hair. "Take me to bed, Max."

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord

My Masterlist!

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

Hell's comin' with me

Aventurine and Boothill are on a mission to send Oswaldo Schneider to hell. You have your own reasons to team up with them. Implied Aventurine x reader.

GENERAL MASTERLIST

It was getting harder to breathe. At this point you weren't sure if you should blame your tight dress chosen by Aventurine for this evening, crowd of powerful people surrounding you or expensive wine you indulged in for this strange heaviness in your chest.

Everything about your appearence from expensive jewelry matching golden attire to artistic but elegant make up you spent hours doing had one purpose - getting people's attention off your partner in crime and his attempts to get more informations about Marketing Development Departament's head, Oswaldo Schneider from his assistant's private devices.

Your eyes scanned the room impatiently while you desperately tried to keep up your conversation with one of the most important IPC workers hoping he won't realise somebody is tinkering with his phone, foolishly left inside his bag by the table. Not an easy task if you don't speak the business language of numbers and statistics.

Old man paraded his knowledge and experience in finance, seemingly hoping to come off as a professional and wealthy man to impress you. You smiled at him politely and did your best to ignore the way he stared at your body.

Wave of relief washed over you when you saw Aventurine giving you a discreet sign that he downloaded all of the needed information already. Next thing you know gambler was right by your side.

- My dear, I hope you didn't get bored already... - he interrupted assistant's monologue, taking you by the hand. - I know very few people able to stand my lovely coworker once he gets a chance to talk about his job.

- Sir, we were in the middle of conversation... - old man looked at Aventurine with irritation, inhaling sharply.

- Unfortunately, this needs to end right here. - Sigonian gave him a fake smile. - You see, I still need to introduce my partner to my colleagues from Ten Stonehearts. - he guided you away from other male, towards the exit.

***

- Do you have everything we promised to that guy? - you spoke up to break the uncomfortable silence.

- Not really, Oswaldo's assistant isn't stupid enough to keep such personal information about his boss in his phone, even if he looks like a complete idiot. - Aventurine smirked maliciously, opening the door of his car for you.

- Do we have enough to make sure Schneider won't be able to hurt what's left of my planet or any other inhabitet place in this universe? - you glanced at Aventurine. He carefully drove past the wall littered with IPC recruitment posters before responding.

- Yes, it's enough to make sure Oswaldo can't do anything like that in the future, but it doesn't really matter. Once he's gone somebody else will take his place and do exactly the same things.

- If you think so then why are you doing that? - you argued. - I didn't expect you to be optimistic about the outcome of our mission, but come on. What's the point of this in that case.

- I have two reasons. First of all I work for Ten Stonehearts, my departament and the one ruled my Oswaldo are competing with each other. - he stated calmly. You rolled your eyes at his words in disbelief. - My second reason is much more important. Schneider is responsible for IPC's reaction to humanitarian crisis on Sigonia.

His gaze turned cold and sharp. You gulped nervously, knowing history of that planet. Conflict on Sigonia in it's last stage resulted in wiping out almost whole clan of Avgins, with only one survivor left. The man sitting by your side. You were more than eager to help him get his revenge for broken promises of safety.

- And you? - he turned his gaze to you. - Why do you want to take part in this mission?

- My family lives on one of the planets terribly indebted to IPC. In exchange for quick advancement IPC took over our independent government and made sure our debt could only grow. - you sighed, rubbing your temples. - They control our politics with threat of punishment for all the money we own them. My sister is one of the brave people who work towards setting us free, she hopes to get some of the debt forgiven by legal means. Somebody ordered to get her eliminated, with all evidence suggesting it has a lot to do with Oswaldo. She made it this time but as long as he's alive I won't be able to stop worrying about her.

- I understand. I know how it feels to lose your family and the whole world you used to know. - Aventurine squeezed your hand soothingly. - I will make sure you won't know this feeling.

***

- Is this all you have? ! Mudlefudger! Weren't you supposed to give me his full data and everything about his past as Nameless? - tall man with metal body and cowboy attire growled at the two of you.

- Hey, why not concentrate on what we have, Boothill? - Aventurine suggested. - Oswaldo's complete, detailed harmonogram for the next three days.

- Why would I give a love about how he spends his time?! I need to know his weaknesses, not what he eats for his fudging breakfast. - Boothill lashed out at gambler.

- No need to argue, guys. - you interrupted their friendly banter. - I noticed interesting break between bussines meetings and usual off-duty activities in our target's plans...

- That's exactly what I wanted to point out. - Aventurine glared at cowboy. - I checked his closest coworkers and their schedules in our system. It seems that for about an hour none of his official bodyguards will be guarding him. I don't know why is that so, but it might have something to do with his past. He might want to keep some secret from everybody, including his own subordinates. If we spy on him and make sure he's completely isolated at this time...

- I will finally be able to avenge my little daughter. - Boothill completed the sentence through gritted teeth. His fingers clenched around his gun.

[tillthelandslide]

Same For You: (8) Studio Sessions

Series Warnings: slow burn romance, eventual smut, age gap, complicated relationship (low-key unhealthy dynamics), eventual love...

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @theoriginalwhatsername @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme @rossgirly @juliardk @you-muppet (add yourself using the link in my bio 😊)

A/n: huge huge thank you to my love @procrastinatinglikeapro for your help with the end of this chapter, for listening to my rambling and for being invested in this series and supporting me and my delusions. I hope you all like this chapter, I really do :) I know this is quite a short chapter but trust me... its just getting good by friends, - your Lou

Series Masterlist

(7) Hate Missing You

The studio feels almost empty in comparison to their other sessions. Ross was unable to make it, texting her saying that he was visiting his brother, she sent back a selfie of her pouting which made his heart swell and his mouth spread into a wide smile. He quickly text back a "sorry love, don't miss me too much. I'll miss you" again his forwardness surprised her but she didn't feel too shy anymore, she liked the way he made her feel, she liked how he wasn't hesitant, telling her exactly how he felt. After their conversation at their last studio session, they had decided to act the way they wanted with each other, but they both knew it couldn't progress any further than that, and despite the deep desire for that to happen, they settled on this agreement... for now at least.

Abbie and Clara were busy at their day jobs, which left Matty, George, Jay and Y/n at the studio.

Jay and George seemed to be getting along swimmingly and we're working on various bits whilst y/n and Matty spoke. She was showing him an arrangement she had been working on and after his input they started recording various parts for the track.

Jay discovered he had a lot more in common with both men than he had initially thought, he liked them and felt optimistic about the whole deal. Eventually he finished up his parts and left, hugging Y/n tightly, muttering a quick apology for previously being an arse, before leaving the studio.

"Fancy a coffee?" Matty asks, Y/n is lying down on the studio floor, back against the carpet and legs hooked over the sofa next to where Matty was sat. He places a hand on her shins as he speaks to her and she smiles up at him.

"Yes please" he's then asking George before leaving to walk a block or two away from the studio.rhey work in silence for a little while before George turns to face her.

"Changed your mind about signing with dirty hit yet?" George asks, he's sat at the sound board, fiddling with certain parts of the track, adding a little reverb to her vocals, testing how it sounds out loud. They share a look, and she nods, letting him know she liked it.

"I'm being persuaded' she jokes and George laughs.

"You'd be a really great addition to the label I have to say" she turns around then, leaning against the sofa and facing him, she frowns at him and he frowns back, unsure why she's frowning in the first place.

"I don't like how you all refer to me... As well.. just me... The band is really important to me y'know... You won't just be signing me, you'll be singing us' she says and he respects that she's standing up for them.

"Sorry love... I for one should know better. Know how much it sucks when people do that... Guess we're lucky we treat each other like equals, but I know how it feels when others don't... Sorry if we haven't done that for your band so far" he says and she smiles, accepting his apology.

"It's okay"

"Truth is though y/n.... Your band is amazing, truly... But you, you really are something else. It's not just Matty and Ross who think that, we all do, even Adam who hasn't been here in the studios witnessing it" George says honestly. She blushes at the mention of the other men, George's words making it perfectly clear that whatever was going on with them, everyone knew they the two former mentioned men were obsessed.

"See that" she says, lying back down on the floor "that makes me uncomfortable" she says making George laugh.

"I'm just a twat who's in a band and plays instruments because it's what I like doing... I'm not some special thing" she says, explaining how she felt badly, making herself frustrated.

"You sound like Matty" he says and she laughs.

"Oh god" she groans, placing a hand over her face.

She turns to pull her guitar towards her, laying it over her chest, playing it at an awkward angle, playing some suspending chords, trying to come up with a melody.

"You and Matty get along well huh?" He asks and she thinks he's snooping a little, which makes her chuckle to herself.

"We do" her voice is drawn out, not revealing too much but leaving it open for him to ask more questions if he wanted to.

"so you're a closed book now?" He asks and she laughs, placing her guitar back down and standing, walking over to where George is, leaning against the side of the sound board, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Not at all... You've just got ask the right questions... What do you want to know?" She says and he raises his eyebrows impressively. She had already opened up to George about Ross and the advise he gave her was good. But she was unsure whether this was an interrogation or not.

"What's happening with Matty?"

"nothing" an eyebrow raise is directed her way.

"We've hung out a few times but we got to know each other pretty well... We're very similar in a lot of ways but completely different in others... I can't explain it very well but... It seems like we just get each other. Nothings happening. He's my friend" George smiles at her, mumbling an "okay... Good" she wonders why he says it.

Did he not want anything to happen between them? She thinks. That question is pointless she thinks, nothing was going to happen, they're friends she thinks. Besides... They couldn't, they were working with each other and she clearly felt some sort of way about his best friend.

"That's probably best" George says and she's the one raising her eyebrows then, wordlessly asking "and why's that?"

She's half expecting him to say something about remaining progressional, or something about the age gap (god knows she's had enough of that from her bandmates since she went out with the band and went to Matty's and since her coffee date (?) with Ross).

"Think Ross fancies you" she wasn't expecting that, she tries to hide her blush but fails doing so, hoping George wouldn't be an arse and comment on it. She knew he had suspected his friends feelings for her, the unplanned dinner was laced with ulterior motives and his slightly sketchy behaviour had given him (and his girlfriend) away. But the two of them had been tiptoeing around the subject, not outwardly confessing things like that.

"Well that's new information" (she lies) "Wouldn't he hate you outing him like that?"

"Think it's pretty obvious don't you?" He asks and suddenly the door is opening behind them and Matty is walking in with their coffees.

"You lifesaver" she says, walking over to him as he holds out her coffee.

"Vanilla latte" he says and she smiles.

"You remembered" she says, taking it from him and taking a sip, sighing at the delicious taste. It had been awhile since they first had coffee and the fact he still remembered made her smile, it made her feel special.

"Of course"

George zones the pair out as they sit on the floor, too busy editing the tracks they've worked on so far, not without asking "trust me?" Which y/n says "of course". He's then got his earphones on and is completely distracted by the songs.

"Matty, I can't think right now" she says, pouting as she sits next to him.

"That's okay... We don't have to be constantly working, you've done amazing so far, the songs sound amazing" he says making her smile.

"I know I want to do a song with not many lyrics, one that shows off the others a bit more... One where everyone can see how fucking sick they are... But I can't invision it right now" her hand weaves through her hair, tugging harshly out of frustration.

"It's okay" he grabs her hand, feeling the soft strands of her hair graze his hands as he does, he pulls it away, squeezing once before letting go "we can work with that... But for now, we can just talk and distract you a little bit. How does that sound?" He lets out a little "hmm?" When she doesn't answer and he's greeted with a soft smile and a nod.

She picks up her acoustic guitar again, thinking of something else to play to distract herself.

"Sometimes when my mind goes blank, I play some other songs, songs that aren't mine... Some of my favourites" she explains and Matty nods.

"Play me something then... Preferably not one of ours... Know how obsessed you are" he says, making her nudge her shoulder against his to shut him up.

She begins playing one of her favorite songs, "Crystal" by Fleetwood Mac, she doesn't sing, opting to just play the tune.

"Great song..." Matty says and she nods.

"Used to sing it with my brother... Mum used to play their records all the time and she would always beg us to sing this song" She explains and Matty smiles but doesn't speak, he almost senses there's more to be told but doesn't press, instead letting her explain in her own time, but when she doesn't he frowns. She continues playing the song, gently humming instead of singing the lyrics, Matty watches her with a smile, feeling relaxed it.

"Hey y/n, I have an idea" they eventually hear George say, placing one of the ears of the headset behind his ear.

She stands and walks over to where he is, George points at one of the layers of the track, clicking play. Her vocal fills the room then before he pauses it.

"I think we should add another lower harmony to this layer, just this layer..." He says.

"When's Jay next available?" George asks and y/n frowns "not for the rest of the week... He's only free for the show on Saturday" she says, but suddenly an idea is springing to her mind and she turns to Matty.

"Would you do it? Just for now, we can change it when Jay's available if you'd prefer" she asks and Matty stands, walking to her side and wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Anything for you love" he says making her smile and George wiggle his eyebrows at her. She shoves George lightly as Matty walks behind the microphone.

Matty begins singing the line in the harmony George suggested, G doesn't think it sounds right despite Matty attempting it a few times.

"George stop being nit picky, it sounds good" y/n says and George shakes his head.

"You're right, it does sound good, but it needs to be perfect" he explains and y/n nods. Matty and her watch as George pauses to think, they watch as he raises an eyebrow, an idea coming to mind.

"Y/n, stand next to Matty a second" she does as he says, Matty bumping his hip against hers when she's next to him.

"Okay, now... I need you to sing the main melody whilst Matty sings the lower harmony okay?" George asks and they both bod. He clicks play and they hear the track playing. George's phone starts ringing and he pauses the track, murmering an apology to the both of them.

"Its Charli..." matty nods and smiles.

"Don't worry, Ive got this" he says and George then leaves the room. He takes George's place at the soundboard for a second, clicking play on the track before making his way back to her.

Matty places his hand on her lower back, leaning forward, the both of them closer to the microphone now. He turns his head slightly, as does she, with the proximity she can see the details of his skin, she can see how pretty his eyes are and how his eyes glint when he smiles a genuine smile.

Her hair slips forward, the ends somehow managing to loop through the microphone holder, it happens too quickly for her to even stop it and when she tries to, she only makes it worse.

"Matty... I'm kind of stuck" there's a level of panic to her voice but also some amusement because only she could've got herself into this situation.

"You're so clumsy" he laughs, one of his hands slips his headphone over one ear, whilst the other comes to the ends of her hair, trying to set it free. When she winces his movements halt, eyes snapping to her eyes which are now watery.

"Shit okay..." he mumbles, his fingers moving slower now, gently untangling her strands from the microphone. His gentle movements have her teary eyes landing on his hands, the usual veins ever present, it has her heartbeat rising. Matty is a focused man so doesn't notice her stare, there's no tension, but she knew, one look from him and there would be. One particular movement has her swearing, all previous thoughts disappearing, replaced by pain. it was karma, she was convinced it was.

"Sorry love" he says, hands slowing, one more turn of his hand and she's free. She's slightly overwhelmed, a tad embarrassed and unbelievably guilty because she's been picturing those hands on other parts of her body ever since they made a move to help her escape.

"Thanks..." she mumbles awkwardly, they've missed their cue, but Matty makes no move to the sound desk, he doesn't pause the track as his hands find her face, thinking she's about to cry.

"Hey... you're fine" he says, her eyes finding his, they're all glassy due to the tears and he doesn't think she's ever looked prettier. That bottom lip of hers is jutted out slightly and its tempting... far too tempting.

"See" his hands move to her hair, wanting to make a joke, to break the tension, to sooth her, but when he tugs at the hair slightly, her breath hitches and he swears he hears her moan. But just as she does, the music picks up. He swears he hears it...

The part of the song has somehow looped back to the start and they notice, ignoring what just happened and getting ready to sing the song... like George had asked.

They hear their cue in the track and they begin singing their parts, this time it sounds perfect, their voices blending together perfectly, complimenting each other just right. Their eyes are caught up in each other, their brains working on their own accord, commanding their vocal chords to stretch just right so the correct note rings out, but they don't notice they're singing. All she notices is how Matty's eyes have little yellow flecks in them, and how his pale skin is littered with dark stubble. He notices how smooth her skin looks, how the colour was flawless, darker under her cheekbones and redder on her cheeks, perfect, almost like a sculpture.

"Perfect!" George says, clapping his hands together, smiling widely. They're disturbed from their thoughts at that, finally moving a step back. They didn't even hear him come back into the room.

"You look very pretty" Matty mumbes. She feels herself blush, she feels how her heart skips a beat. And she doesn't like it. She's reminded of Ross, she remembers the way he said the same words to her and how her cheeks heated up far quicker and far warmer, she remembers the way her stomach did front flips and backflips at the compliment and how her hairs stood on end. But she couldn't deny the effect Matty's words had on her either.

She couldn't like them both. She couldn't. Could she?

She said to Ross she was 'figuring it out'

His thumb finds her cheek, swiping against it. "Eyelash" he explains. Her stomach buzzes, the hairs on her arms stand on end and her breathing falters.

Yes. She definitely could like them both.

At least she figured it out.

Matty's hand drops from her cheek, and he frowns, she doesn't know why. It hurts her when he takes a step back, distancing himself from her.

Matty's stomach flips, guilt hitting him right in the chest. He said he would stop this, but it was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

Ross, think of Ross he thinks, your best friend.

© all lyrics are written and owned by yours truly (let's ignore the fact they're not that good but yeah) no stealing hehe

(9) Our Secret

[ratasum]

I want SO so badly to enjoy SotO. I really do I swear to god I did not come into it wanting to dislike it. I hesitated posting this at all. I'm still extremely hedgy about it.

I was incredibly excited, hype as hell, posting thoughts and analyses of the different things that dropped, and I genuinely enjoyed the first release. There was a high there, and outside of Mabon's death and what felt like a tendency towards more tentatively telling than showing anything, I was hooked in.

But the following two drops have just... killed any hope or enjoyment I had. With them being so short, plot threads that were genuinely fascinating feel like they won't have time to get tied up and will be left to dangle forever. Zojja, whose "exciting character arc" was bare bones and all told in journals you had to scavenger hunt for, was promptly ascended off screen and then shuffled out of the narrative (I have other issues with her writing too as someone who plays a LOT of asura but I don't want to get into it). We haven't seen her since the very opening moments of the second chapter, and anet leaned hard on bringing her back as a big thing in this expac.

But the most glaring thing to me is something that hits more personally. That for me, as someone who grew up adjacent to cults and now has family members actively IN a cult, the behavior of the Wizards has come off as incredibly suspicious since the JUMP, and I was genuinely hoping some of the ambient dialogue and some of the odd journals were going to mean something.

The isolating of new members away from anything they knew, the lovebombing of "you're here because you're special we can see what's so good and special about you," and the use of tragedy and personal loss IN THE MOMENT OF IT HAPPENING to pull the final string of "You can stay here and you'll never have to experience like that again; the world can't hurt you if you stay here forever."

It's terrifying to see this presented as a positive to me. I'm incredibly uncomfortable with it, since I see that kind of behavior play out in real time with my own family.

And it sucks because there's an EXCELLENT skeleton there. I'm fascinated by the Kryptis and their plight, I like that the wizards come off as incredibly shady and not actually as benevolent as they appear, the conflict has so much potential. I like (most) of the new characters. I ADORE the voice acting. And the Horn of Maguuma and Nayos are genuinely beautiful locations. There was so much potential for emotional turmoil in Zojja's arc if they'd followed through with it. Mabon was an interesting connection to the wizards I hadn't expected. We know some part of Lyhr regrets that he ascended at all, feeling like he was manipulated. There's the mystery of that Kodan who left without unascending!

But there's one drop left and with how short the last two drops were I just don't feel like there's enough time.

I hope they prove me wrong. I'm being as optimistic as I can.

I want to be wrong about my misgivings because I love this game, and when I complain, it's not out of malice. It's because I remember how it felt to be excited for every drop, waiting on the edge of my seat during Living Worlds and lamenting having to stop playing to sleep during expacs.

I want that feeling back and it sucks that I can't seem to find it.

[pascaloverx]

Strangers?

Christmas Epilogue

previous part AO3 LINK

Author's note: This fanfic is set in the creation of Jenny Han. Conrad Fisher and other characters mentioned in the future do not belong to me. I hope you like this fanfic, depending on how it goes, I'll decide if this fic will have more parts or just this one. This fanfic is recommended for all audiences, there will be no adult content in it, only possible inappropriate language and alcohol consumption. This author would like to thank everyone who read this fanfic and hope everyone likes this epilogue.

You woke up feeling optimistic; finally, you were going to have a Christmas with your boyfriend. Even though you aren't a hundred percent sure everything will go smoothly. Conrad has been busy with college for the past few days, so he's out buying Christmas presents on Christmas Eve itself. If he had listened to you, he would have done this weeks ago, but he said he was used to last-minute shopping.

"You're supposed to be helping me set the table, but I'm doing all the work by myself..." You say over the phone to Conrad, who is in line waiting to get to the house where you live. Essentially, you live together now; he spends more time at your place than in the university dormitory.

"I've already said I love your understanding nature; it's as if my girlfriend is the most loving person in the world." Conrad speaks sarcastically, which you find amusing. You then hear knocks on the door and go to open it while keeping Conrad on the line.

"Someone's knocking at the door, did you invite someone?" You ask, almost whispering into the phone, unsure whether to open the door or not.

"I can be home in thirty minutes, maybe less if I don't mind breaking a few rules." Conrad says in a concerned tone, which you find endearing.

"Negative, I won't ruin our first Christmas together by making you come here for nothing. I can take care of myself. Just come back soon." You say to Conrad, trying to convince yourself that everything will be fine. Gaining courage, you open the door, finding Jeremiah and Belly arm in arm, holding several bags. You smile with relief and tell Conrad that you need to hang up but that it's his brother at the door.

"I know it's bold to show up out of nowhere, but we were nearby and decided to bring the gifts." Jeremiah says. Your reaction is to give them space to enter and you even try to help carry the groceries, but neither Belly nor Jeremiah let you help.

"What a surprise to see you here, Conrad told me you were going to spend it with your Belly family, so I didn't even ask if you two wanted to exchange gifts today." You closed the door while Belly and Jeremiah placed the purchases on the counter. They also placed the gifts under the Christmas tree.

"Me and Jeremiah were helping my mom with the preparations for Christmas and we remembered that it was her first Christmas with Conrad. And we decided to bring some shopping and gifts to help. The first Christmas is important to a new couple. Especially if you're going to spend it with Conrad." Belly speaks and then hugs you, with her coat that is a little damp from the snow.

"I warned that your boyfriend was going to end up spending Christmas Eve at some mall shopping for things he could have bought last week." Jeremiah says hugging you too as soon as you stopped hugging Belly. In that moment you felt like part of Conrad's family. There's no other way to say it but Belly is part of this family too. They love each other and you're fine about it. Jeremiah and Belly decided to try to give their love a chance.

"It doesn't matter how much I warned him about it. At least he helped me put up the Christmas tree. He also decided to make a pie for today, if you guys want to stay for Christmas dinner." You say casually as you watch the oven to check if the turkey is done.

"Unfortunately we can't stay, my mom will freaky out. We wish you both the best Christmas possible and your gifts are on the tree. Over-the-counter purchases are some things that we think Conrad won't find in this time. We already have to go, right, love?" Belly says holding Jeremiah's hand gently. He agrees with her.

"At least take the gifts I bought, Conrad's presents unfortunately he's going to have to take them tomorrow but we'll meet up tomorrow on Christmas afternoon, we can go ice skating or something." You say handing over the presents you bought for them. You open the door so they can leave, but you run into Conrad. He has snowy hair, carrying several things in his hands.

"You arrived just in time to say goodbye to us, brother." Jeremiah says as he helps Conrad bring what he bought into the house. Suddenly you all are together inside of the house.

"Before the lovebirds leave, let's take a photo with the Christmas tree." Conrad speaks touching Belly and Jeremiah's shoulders. You are proud of your boyfriend when you see how much he evolved.

"I think it's a good idea. But honey, I think you should take off your hoodie. You're going to get sick if you keep that on." You say, approaching Conrad and placing a kiss on his lips.

"Want to help me change my clothes?" Conrad softly while their lips are still close. You give him a peck on the lips and then touch his arm, almost as if pushing him towards the stairs.

He quickly goes to change his clothes and comes back adjusting his sweatshirt on his body. The four of you then approach the tree after Conrad grabs the camera and positions it to take the photograph. And you all take the photo smiling, each side of the person you're dating. And so it was, the beginning of the perfect Christmas Eve.

[sl33paholics]

Dagger In My Heart

Yan!Josuke x black!fem reader

A/N: This will be written in a letter format

Warning(s): Implied stalking and violence

My dearest Y/N,

You've done something to me. Something that I can't even describe in words. It's like something is missing and it just won't leave my mind. There’s a hole in my life without you. A void that has been there since we met but has never been filled to its extent. My heart hurts a bunch, Y/N. I've never had someone with a unique personality such as you, I always wanted a girl just like you. You stand out from all of the girls in this school, in fact, any girl I've seen before.

Your eyes, hair, skin, body shape, everything about you screams ‘beautiful’, and yet you are one of the most stunning people in my whole world. Pretty young thing. You make me feel alive in every way possible, Y/N. It’s not just the physical parts, though they certainly play a part, it’s when you smile at me that makes my heart feel like it's going to burst. The way your lips curl into a smile, the way your eyes sparkle with happiness and excitement, you turned me into an animal in heat. I'm too scared to approach you.

Kinda ironic coming from me, the most popular boy in the whole building, I shouldn't have a problem walking up to you and snatching you up. But with my groupies following me around, it's difficult to have some privacy and get a chance to be around you.

Do you remember our first encounter? It was only six weeks ago and already my head is spinning with all sorts of possibilities. What if you were dating another guy? What if you thought of me as a fuckboy? What if you hated me? That last possibility made my stomach clench. But as time went on, my attraction to you grew stronger until I couldn't wait for the day when I could finally kiss your soft, pink lips.

I know everything about you. Favorite color, favorite food, music taste, types of clothing, I know it all.

Somehow, whenever you see me, you look like you've seen a ghost and quickly move away. Is it your friends? Those petty idiotic bitches? I've taken care of them. They won't bother you anymore, they won't bother US anymore. Those guy friends of yours? You don't even have to worry about sleeping with nightmares anymore.

By the time you're reading this letter, I expect you to come to the back of the school when clubs are in session when the sun goes down and everyone is having a good time and you'll find me. I'll take you inside, lock the doors, and then...you'll understand. I've been leaving letters to you non-stop, hoping against hope that you'd read them. I know you won't, that you'll think they're nothing but empty words. Words I wouldn't say unless it was very real. I'll tell you everything. Just come find me, love, wherever you go. However, I am done playing this one-sided game that's happening. I want you to be there. You wouldn't want your precious companions to get hurt all over a letter?

I just can't wait to see you.

You standing there oh so desperately waiting for my arrival,

Then I swoop you off your feet like a knight and you're my princess.

Our future is bound to be optimistic.

It's bound to be flawless.

I know it is because you're mine.

I will never let you go, no matter how hard it may seem now.

I'll always have you by my side and I'll always fend for you. I promise, baby.

See you soon,

Your future husband ♡

[lakesparkles]

LiS True Colors fanfic (prologue)

Terrible title, I know lmao, but it doesn't have an actual title yet. I'm finally ready to start sharing my fanfics, this being the first one here.

The main idea was "what if Alex had Max's powers too?" because I wanted to write a time travel story, basically. It starts after the ending of the game, but not an official one, I guess? I kinda mixed two of them. The beggining of the fic will be more Alex/Steph but there are a lot of mentions of Alex/Ryan in this prologue too.

Last thing is that English is not my main language so sorry for any mistake! Here's something I drew for it:

You can read it on this google doc or under the cut: (1424 words)

Prologue

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.

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Alex doesn't understand how doing exactly what she wanted can be so scary

Or

What if Alex had Max's powers?

---

  The bus gave a sudden lurch, and Alex had to catch herself from falling off the seat. For that measly second, her mind returned to the real world, looking around. Beside her, Steph was going through the same thing, cursing under her breath as she returned to her previous position.

  Then it ended.

  Her attention immediately returned to the window, her cheek resting on her hand. Outside, the trees and mountains were farther apart. Different. Quite different from Haven Springs. The realization of that knocked her over again, making Alex swallow hard as she began to think about how her own decision hadn't made her as satisfied as she'd hoped.

  Maybe it was because she didn't think it would happen so soon. I mean, Alex was never an optimistic person. Far from that. Because optimism never made her life easier. However, part of her had found small hopes just a few weeks ago, when she'd been on a bus much like this one: seeing Gabe again could be weird, but could also be good. She could find connections, comfort, and everything else she'd lacked before. She could make Haven Springs her home.

  She would be lying if she said that things didn't turn out the way her more unrealistic self imagined.

  And again, even that hadn't gotten her anywhere. For there she was, heading towards the opposite side of the country, just as she had started.

  Alex sighed, burying her face in her hand.

  "Look," Steph's voice made her reluctantly focus on something that was not her thoughts, "you might be the one among us who reads minds... Buuuuut something tells me you'd have a blue stain around you right now ... It's blue, right?

  A second sigh came out of Alex's throat, but this time, she too turned her head and smiled slightly. A sad smile:

  "I am really sorry. I think I'm kind of tired."

  "But already?" Steph didn't seem convinced, "It's the first hours of our incredible journey! When we're in Pennsylvania you won't even be able to stand up then!"

  There was a certain good humor in her voice, which Alex appreciated. She was already tired of all the disguised judgments she had received in the last few days in that city.

  "You're really used to traveling, huh!?"

  "I prefer to believe that I wasn't born for only one city!" Steph closed her eyes in a dramatic pose, pointing at herself.

  It was lovely. Alex's smile rose a few inches, until she noticed the blue stain start to appear around the other one. It was small and lasted a few seconds. Alex even tried to avoid reading Steph's thoughts, but it was almost involuntary: as none so far made me feel like I should.

  "I'm with you on this one!" Alex laughed awkwardly.

  She knew her thoughts would take over again. So she didn't even turn her face to the window. Instead, she slowly laid down on Steph's shoulder, giving the other woman enough time to stop her if she wanted to. But of course Steph didn't move a muscle, just resting her head on Alex's.

  The contact was still awkward. Something she knew she would need more time to get used to. It was just one of the many consequences of growing up with little affection. She now avoided and begged for it in equal measure. It was like that when she hugged Gabe for the first time after meeting him again: awkward, out of place and strangely nice.

  She felt her brother's affection in unusual ways, being when she discovered that he had bought a guitar as a gift, days before she arrived; or when everyone in town spoke to her with a certain familiarity during her first week there. "Gabe couldn't stop talking about you!", Ryan confessed one afternoon that he spent at her apartment, "He guaranteed that everyone would love you! He said that you could form a band with Steph. That you wouldn't even complain about watching the boring documentaries I liked. Scary how right he was... And now I understand why he thought that...".

  Every time she talked about Gabe with Ryan, she felt a warm feeling in her chest, in a way she knew she wouldn't feel with anyone else. The two understood each other and expressed their love for Gabe through each other as well. It made that anything but real, as if they were just two old friends reminiscing about stories and would soon see Gabe again.

  Affection for Alex often took that form: being able to pretend everything was fine with someone else.

  At that very moment, Alex had her legs on top of Ryan's. He gently placed his hand on her knee, lightly caressing the area. Something so small and ordinary and…weird. She didn't know if she liked it, and it made her uneasy.

  She wanted something real and different from the feelings she'd stolen from someone else. And she knew reality was always a little scary, so she seemed to be on the right path.

  It intensified when she handed him the rose at the festival, her heart beating a mile a second. Even worse when she kissed him for the first time, the gold and purple mingled in him as well as her. She was close enough to feel everything that went through his mind. It was always a mixed bag, just like it was with Alex. Confused. Scary. New. Comfortable.

  Maybe all that fear wasn't so bad after all.

  Purple certainly followed her through the rest of that short relationship.

  She saw how Ryan was paralyzed as she confronted his father. Or when he himself yelled at her, telling her to stop it.

  Ryan didn't believe her.

  It wasn't the anger she was so used to that washed over him as he refused her touch, almost as if he was disgusted with her. Or when he started avoiding her for the next few days, his guilt prevented him from even getting close.

  No. It wasn't anger. Or sadness.

  It was fear.

  Now Alex couldn't help but think of everything from the start. At all the other times that emotion was present.

  Maybe it wasn't as normal as she wanted to believe it was.

  "It's like this in the beginning!" Steph's voice again brought her back to the real world.

  Alex needed a few seconds to even understand what was said:

  "Huh?"

  "This weird bus adrenaline! It's always kind of sad, at least it was like that for me too" She said while practically rubbing her face against Alex's, "But let me tell you a secret: Salem will never be the best part! We have many places to visit even before there!"

  "Is that talk about 'the true treasure are the friends you made along the way?"

  Steph lightly punched her arm, even though she was laughing:

  "I'm serious, okay? The good part is that we'll never know if Salem will really be our final stop. Maybe we'll walk into a hotel in the middle of nowhere in Ohio and decide that's where we belong."

  "Is that what happened when you stopped in Haven Springs?"

  "No..." She admitted, "But that hope always wanted to get me out of there."

  Alex still appreciated how much the other tried to cheer her up, so she decided to shrug her shoulders, giving up:

  "Who knows, right? We might not even stop anywhere! Let's just keep traveling. We just need to get temporary jobs to buy a van."

  "Then we can make a short list: ‘places to visit before death'! We will travel the country!"

  "And then we'll go down to Latin America. Somewhere has to be our place."

  "Or no place will ever be our place!"

  "You make it look like a good thing." She chuckled.

  "You understand me, Alex."

  That simple sentence cut the conversation short. Alex lifted her head from her shoulder, then made eye contact with Steph. She had said the last sentence simply, as if she was joking. However, the way she was looking at Alex now, it was as if she had confessed to something much bigger, which she had been keeping inside for a long time.

  The color purple washed over Steph.

  Alex smiled.

  Maybe she wasn't so wrong about affection and love.

[daylander1000]

Will you watch season 2 of HotD or you've lost interest in the show? I wasn't thrilled with season 1, but I do like some characters and I'm curious to see if they'll do them any justice in the next season(s). I'm still trying to be optimistic (which is definitely against my nature 😁), although the latest leaks from Spain (which I desperately hope to be false) doesn't sound promising.

Idk it you read Fire & Blood, but that book is often overrated imho, almost all the characters there are painfully one-dimensional, shallow and bland, while the plot is full of illogical things (especially the Dance part) . So, as you can see, I'm not the biggest book fan, and I do believe that the show did some things better and gave a bit of depth and complexity to certain characters and fleshed them out. However, at the same time it seems to me that they didn't complete what they started, like, you see the potential of the characters and understand their motivations, but then out of the blue they do or say something totally nonsensical and OOC. Take Alicent at the end of episode 8. Rhaenyra says something nice to her and she suddenly forgives everything and forgets that's the same woman who wanted to "sharply question" Aemond after her son Luke maimed him over an insult (a fact, actually), the woman her husband always favoured at the expense of Alicent's own children and finally, the woman who is married to Daemon, the sociopath who hates Alicent and her children and who will kill anyone (and apparently with Rhaenyra and Viserys' blessing) without remorse if it benefits him and his side. I mean, the guy even had the gall to look annoyed during the prayer for Vaemond. Still, according to the show, Alicent somehow needs to "misunderstand" Viserys' last words to crown her own son, and not because it's probably the only way to keep her and her children alive and safe and because her son actually has the strongest claim to the throne according to Westerosi laws avd tradition. And don't get me started on the Velaryons who are collectively depicted as "Dae and Rhae fan club". Like, what is Corlys even thinking?! I won't ask about Baela and Rhaena because they obviously don't get to think and are just unconditionally supportive of Rhaenyra and the Strong boys. Rhaenys is contradictory and inconsistent. It's frustrating, really. Also, the fact that the narrative/the framing of the show heavily favours team black is also off-putting. Nevertheless, I'm still curious and just a bit hopeful that season 2 will balance these things a little. Maybe I'll just be terribly disappointed, but oh well. Sorry for the rant :D

Anyway, as a fan of your fic, I would like to know your opinion. Does the show deserve our optimism and what are your predictions regarding season 2?

S2 predictions? 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Why would you ask me this? This is a show where someone in a professional HBO writers room said, "So what if a dragon just bursts up from the underground?" And the showrunner was like "Fuck yeah!"

I don't think they even thought to do a camera pan of the carnage. It's like they wanted to make Rhaenys look badass but did a Koolaid Man scene instead.

Tell me that this isn't Rhaenys

Predictions? This is not Leftovers where you could do a whole video essay on foreshadowing and subtext and hidden clues. This is a series where there's a horse running loose in a writer's room and nobody knows what it's going to write next.

This is the most bizarre thing I've ever seen.

My prediction for S2 is that during the time off at least one person realizes that they failed to make Aegon into Joff 2.0, that instead of having him be affably evil, he's onscreen affable and offscreen evil, and they'll try to double down on actually showing that he's evil and actually showing that he's worse than Daemon and Rhaenyra.

We've seen Daemon in brothels, grooming and marrying children, killing Rhea, killing innocent people and murdering lords at court, but we've only been told (by very minor characters) that Aegon is a baby-eating rape monster. It's all extremely "tacked-on."

I think Aegon's the biggest problem that they have to work on. Just getting at least this one character to make sense moving forward.

When Jahaerys is killed, I think they'll use that to really commit to making him the bad guy. Like he'll have to be killing a baby or raping someone or eating someone so that it's not Rhaenyra and Daemon killing a child but "Look at what this bad man was doing instead of protecting his son."

As far as predictions go, that's all I can see. If they only develop one character in S2, it needs to be him. Rhaenyra has Rockstar!Daemon, Rhaenys and Corlys on her side, so they'll have to upscale the green threat otherwise it's a bunch of grown people and veteran soldiers fighting two children who have no experience at anything because the oldest one is a 20-year-old frat boy and his brother is still a teenager. Aegon's going to have to really be villainous.

I feel like there's a reason all his nude scenes are with his mother, it's one of the few consistent things between them through the time skips and actor changes, and I feel like they're going to go fully 500% in that Commodus direction

and have him just be creepy and rapey with her in a "bad incest," how-the-turntables, "be careful what you wish for" way. Alicent's defining trait seems to be "perpetual victim," so I feel like they'll go this way and frame it as if she's getting what she deserves for slapping him around. Ten extra points if they have Rhaenyra or Rhaenys there on hand to be like "Is this your king?"

I don't see them doing anything with Rhaena besides sending her away, and I actively don't want to see Baela going out there getting her dragon killed and her face burnt off in defense of Rhaenyra.

I honestly try to not think about s2 of this.

I was a hardcore asoiaf fan but I didn't like Feast or Dance. I read Dunk and Egg, but he didn't finish that either. And when F&B came out, I got the audiobook and I listened to it for a few hours, probably less than five, and I couldn't concentrate because I kept thinking "Did this bitch seriously package his story notes as a novel for sale??? This is an insult to storytelling."

And I deleted it.

It's the quality for one thing. It's the lack of diversity, it's the author not finishing anything, it's the fandom being 20% fantasy fans, 80% trump rally...

Like, in just 10 episodes HotD has managed to give a voice to pro-rape feminists. Didn't even know that was a thing until I saw it on Twitter.

I saw some of the leaked pics of Helaena at the funeral on my feed, didn't have to scroll far to see people just casually r-wording Helaena and acting like having six fingers is a killing offense since eugenics rhetoric is apparently thriving in this fandom.

And on top of all that, the story doesn't even make sense.

I don't want to be like "dramaturgically speaking" but narrative coherence is a thing. Just from bing chat (yes, I'm using bing 😣):

Narrative coherence is the degree to which a story makes sense. Coherent stories are internally consistent, with sufficient detail, strong characters, and free of significant surprises. The ability to assess coherence is learned and improves with experience. Individuals assess a story's adherence by comparing it with similar stories. The ultimate test of narrative sense is whether the characters act reliably. If figures show continuity throughout their thoughts, motives, and actions, acceptance increases. However, characters behaving uncharacteristically destroy acceptance.

This show has curb-stomped narrative coherence.

Like, take that scene where they killed Vaemond. The way they write it, Rhaenyra has come back after 6 years of never visiting her father to drag him off his deathbed so he can support her in taking Driftmark, the seat of house Velaryon, away from Velaryon people to give it to her son by Harwin Strong. Vaemond is killed for telling the truth.

With different lighting and music, that's peak tyranny. That's some Mad King Aerys shit. In full view of all the lords at court. Every single person in that courtroom is aware that Luke is a bastard and they've just witnessed a lord like themselves get beheaded over it. This isn't Daemon killing commoners. He's killing the lords and ladies of Westeros.

But there's no fallout. Nothing. All the lords of Westeros cease to matter. It's just another Tuesday to them.

Hell, they go even further and frame the scene like Viserys is Old Theoden fighting off the curse of Wormtongue. Otto, Alicent and her goblin children all but shrivel and wither from the sunlight that Rhaenyra brings as Vaemond is cut down by noble Daemon. In that scene, Dark Sister might as well be Andúril, Flame of Old Valyria, sword of justice.

There are shows that are easy to watch that we say are "no brain cells required," but HotD is like, "No brain cells allowed. Switch them off or put them on silent so you don't disturb anyone."

I have no hope for season 2. I would never rec this to anyone or say that I think the writing will improve. The foundation is shit. You can't build a strong s2 on a shit s1 unless you're writing a procedural or an anthology where nothing that comes before matters.

You can't undo things like Alicent supporting Aegon as king because of a misunderstanding. There's a limit to how many things you can retcon without destroying all sense of continuity and they've already gone beyond that in s1.

They're past plot holes. They have whole parts of the world that are just void of all thought. Alicent and Rhaenys are characters who respawn and disintegrate from scene to scene as needed. Corlys is three lines of dialogue in a trenchcoat. Daemon Targaryen is somehow, impossibly, a less-developed Damon Salvatore.

No optimism here.

I'm that jaded ex fan who's like, "hotd is a barren wasteland, riddled with racists, ableists and toxic stans, and those are just the writers. The very fandom air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten-thousand Lindelof-level writers could they fix this shit."

But that being said, I have a really bad habit of watching shit TV.

I've seen Catwoman more than 5 times.

Waterworld, Jonah Hex, Elektra, Daredevil (Ben Affleck and Colin Farrell), Battlefield Earth, Supernova. At least 8 of the Fast movies. All the Transformers. Dracula 2000. All the old school classics of bad cinema.

I haven't watched Morbius as yet and the only reason why is because I feel like Jared Leto is intentionally trying to become Nicholas Cage and I don't want to support that.

There is something about the cringe that hooks me. And with a TV series? That weekly cringe? That is peak entertainment.

It used to take me 4 sometimes 5 hours to watch and digest a single episode of Titans because there were so many questions to think about.

I hyperfixate on bad writing. Trying to figure out all the ways it went wrong and why and what they were trying to do. Once I start, I can't stop thinking about it. I'm hoping swhhw gets it out of my system, but I don't know.

Like, anybody can make good TV. Anybody can do that if you try hard enough. But truly horrible TV isn't supposed to exist. It's like 20 million an episode to make HotD? Nobody is supposed to invest that in a show where the showrunner doesn't even know how old the characters are. Bad TV shows are supposed to be snuffed out before they see the light of day.

But HotD is something special.

You don't accidentally end up with a Koolaid Dragon busting up through concrete. A director described that scene to a VFX crew. The actors had to rehearse that repeatedly. They had to do a read-through...

Like, just think about that.

And then they announce that they're going ahead with s2 without writers?!

That is insane. Part of me says look away, and the other part of me says that s2 of HotD will be something the likes of which I'll never see again.

I really don't want to watch S2, but honestly, I might. Not because I think it will be better but because I'm dead certain it can only get worse.

[falmerbrook]

what are your tes 6 expectations?

hmmm interesting question.

Firstly, it sounds like it's basically all but confirmed to be in Hammerfell based on analysis of that one "please shut up about TES 6" trailer by people who know more than me, and the fact that ESO has kinda avoided dipping their toes too substantially into the province despite covering the rest of them pretty thoroughly. On one hand that's sorta meh because if so it'll be the third game in a row to focus on a human province, but on the other hand ESO and Redguard have kinda gotten me into Hammerfell, so I won't be sad or disappointed if it indeed is. I've seen some say they think it will or want it to focus on the the Iliac Bay (so both High Rock and Hammerfell), but I think that's a bit of a cope.

In terms of everything else, I'm gonna be honest, I don't really have any expectations. I'm by no means a gamer, and the TES games are pretty much the only ones I play, so from my time poking around TES communities, I don't think I have as high or complex of expectations for my gaming experience as someone who plays games beyond just being weirdly obsessed with a particular game series. I'll also admit that I can be a bit of contrarian, so seeing people get genuinely angry at things they assume will happen with TES 6 as if they have already been confirmed to be happening has made me sort of be overly optimistic about it by default. I think by not having expectations I'm less likely to be disappointed if it is disappointing (which, once again, it sorta hard to achieve by my low standards), and I won't be too burned by being optimistic since no matter what, I'll probably just enjoy running around a part of Tamriel either way. It'll probably be fairly similar to Skyrim, but hell, I'm not a game developer. Who am I to say what direction they'll take.

If Oblivion supposedly had a lot of influence from Lord of the Rings, what might TES 6 have inspiration from? Maybe they'll see how well BG3 did and lean in that direction (writing wise) more? The new Dune movies have come out right as its started proper development, so maybe they'll take from that (y'know, deserts)? Maybe they'll just do their usual of building off of new systems they implemented in their last game (which would be Starfield, which I haven't played and don't know what new things they played around with, so I don't know what it will be) and/or the DLCs of the last TES game (although maybe it's been too long since Skyrim for that).

The one thing I am tentatively hoping for is that these like 4 years of pre-development shows in the worldbuilding and writing. But like I said, I'm not expecting much. Just trying to be contrarily optimistic.

Also I made this post awhile ago about what I hope they change about Redguard history if TES 6 is in Hammerfell. Not the same topic but I thought I might as well include it

So tldr: I don't really have many expectations period, positive or negative, but I'm cautiously looking forward to it. I don't really know what to expect outside of the typical Bethesda open world structure.

[crystalsnow95z]

This is a part 2. It was going to be longer but I'm working too much lately..

Part 1 here

Must read part one.

"[Are you sure you it's okay for all of us to be here?]"Namjoon asks, feeling guilty that him and his brothers took over their campsite.

"[Oh, it's no problem. It certainly made things more interesting. Since our friends bailed on coming with us it was getting boring. You also brought dinner for us to share. I think its an even trade. We caught zilch.]" Darryl smiles warmly, grilling the fish the members brought.

Jin walks back towards Namjoon, hanging up the phone with a grim expression. Him and Taehyung went for a walk to get Yoongi's discarded clothing, hoping to get a better phone signal with higher ground.

"You couldn't get a signal?" Namjoon guesses by his expression.

"Worse, staff won't be able to get to us until tomorrow.." Jin says, clenching his jaw.

"What? Why? Is everything okay?" Namjoon asks with a worried expression. "Was there an accident."

"No, no. The rental car broke down on their way to their hotel. They can't get a replacement until tomorrow.." Taehyung replies, rubbing Jin's shoulders. "It's okay. we can take care of Hobi-hyung until then." He tried to stay positive, but his smile didn't meet his eyes and hardly lasted more than a moment.

"[What's wrong kid?]" Derek asks Namjoon to translate when he feels the tension in the air. "[I don't speak Korean but I can tell it ain't good news.]"

"[We can't get our friend to the hospital until tomorrow. Our ride broke down..]" Namjoon was tempted to ask him for more help when he heard Hoeseok coughing, but he couldn't get himself to do it. Not when he already did so much for them already.

"[I'm sure he'll be fine. You can use some whiskey to help numb your buddy Yoongi and some cough medicine for J-hope.]" Derek says with an optimistic grin. "[You want some? Brought some just case. Darryl ends up with the sniffles every time it rains. Sensitive little f*cker.]" He says fondly, laughing when Derek throws a stick at him. "[What? You are!]"

"[That would be great. Thank you.]" Namjoon bows,weakly smiling when Derek bows back, watching him go in the tent to dig through his bag.

"[You okay?]" Derek asks when he hears Hoseok coughing into his fist. "[Hang tight I'll give you something for that nasty cough.]"

Hoseok nods, even though he couldn't understand half of what he was saying. Despite taking private English lessons, he couldn't remember. His mind was fuzzy with fever, cuddling closer to Yoongi as another chill ran down his spine.

"You aren't okay. You're burning hot.." Jimin frowns, touching the back of his hand to his forehead. "This isn't good. He's getting worse already.."

"It's okay Minnie.. i..I just need to..to rest.." Hoseok coughs, cursing under his breath when his chest tightens a wheezing sound coming when he tries to take a deep breath.

"Don't lie to me.. you aren't okay." Jimin tries to scold him, but his voice is soft and slightly trembles. His stomach churned with worry for the usual cheerful rapper, rubbing his back as a feeble attempt to help.

Hoseok grabbed Yoongi's hand, squeezing it while he swayed, dizziness engulfing him, making him shiver with a cold sweat, leaning his head against the older’s shoulder. Even with laying as still as a stone, he still felt like he was moving.

"Hoseok-ah.." Yoongi whispered his name, trying to attempt to comfort him, but his voice caught in his throat, no other words coming. His throat was too tight, having to look up and blink rapidly to stop the tears that pricked at the corners of his eyes.

This is my fault.. I should've told him to go to camp when I realized how quiet he was being when we were fishing that something was wrong.. or talked him into staying in the camp all together..

Yoongi's felt his stomach knotting with guilt, feeling like he would be sick. "I'm sorry.." He breathed the words, leaning his head on Hoseoks, burying his face in his hair as two tears slipped, not wanting Jimin to see them.

Even without seeing Yoongi's face, Jimin could hear the soft sobs that the deagu rapper tried to conceal, his breath coming out as shaky gasps his shoulders trembling. "Hyung its okay..it's not your fault. You did all you could.."

"It's mine.. I should've..stayed in camp..but I was scared to stay alone.." Hoeseok whispers hoarsely between coughs, gasping for air when it finally dies down.

Yoongi nods, but he doesn't believe him, forcing himself to take a deep breath to try to slow his ragged breathing.

"[Found it!]" Derek says with a triumphant smile, it instantly dropping when he looks at his guests, becoming aware of the tension in the air. "[Woah kid, are you okay? Are you in pain?]"

"[I'm just a little bit..I'm okay.]" Yoongi lies, rubbing his face against Hoeseok's hair to try to dry his eyes to look up at Derek, giving him a sad smile. "[I'm just..ah..]" He struggled to think of the English words to describe his emotions, but his mind was still foggy with fatigue. "[Just tired and worry..]"

"[I get that. I'd be f*cken worried, too. Here. I found that cough syrup. It should knock him right out.]" Derek gives the bottle of bright red liquid to Jimin.

"[Thank you..]" Jimin bows his head, opening the bottle and pouring it into the small cup.

"[No prob. I'm gonna go check on dinner.]" Derek quickly dismisses himself from the tent.

"Hyung do you think you can sit up for me?" Jimin asks with a gentle tone, caressing the back of Hoseok's neck.. "Just for a few seconds.. then you can lay back down.."

Hoseok slowly picks up his head, keeping his eyes closed, frightened that if he opened them, the room would start spinning again. Yoongi keeps his hand firmly on his brother, having the same fear that he'd fall to the side.

Jimin slowly puts the small cup to Hoseok's slightly parted lips, just in case the cough returns, feeling a sliver of relief when the rapper manages to take it, quickly giving him some water. "Good, good.." he murmurs with a soft sigh.

"How is he?" Jungkook pokes his head in the tent. "Ah, you're up.. how are you?"

"I'm hanging in there.." Hoseok stifles a cough, trying to give a reassuring smile for the mankae. "Darryl-ssi got me some medicine.."

Jungkook bites his lip, not wanting to say he was just outside talking to Darryl and that it was Derek who was with them earlier. Hoseok was great with names, able to remember staff from several years ago. "That's good, I was worried we wouldn't have a way to get it.."

"I'm tired Hyung.." Hoseok looks at Yoongi with exhaustion written on his face. "We should go to our.." Coughs cut him off, burying his face in his arm.

"I don't think you should be walking. You're really sick Hoba.." Yoongi says softly, tensing up. He had no idea how long they'd be welcomed in the brother's camp and there was no way he would let Hoeseok walk.

"What's wrong?" J-hope asks softly, looking up at Yoongi.

"Don't worry about me,I'm just thinking. Get some rest, baby. Hyung will figure it out." Yoongi moves him and J-hope into a laying position, letting the younger rapper lay on his chest.

J-hope almost instantly falls asleep, his head growing heavier on Yoongi's chest. Yoongi felt feverish himself from the heat radiating off his younger brother.

"Jiminie, ask Namjoonie to speak to the Derek-sii and Daryll-sii about the situation." Yoongi says in a soft whisper.

Jimin nods, rising to his feet. "Rest well hyung." He whispers, gently stroking the back of Hoseok's neck before leaving the tent to where the others were.

"[Oh hey, dinners almost done. You hungry?]" Derek greets him motioning to the pile of fried fish. "[I don't have many plates so you'll have to take turns eating.]"

"[Thank you.]" Jimin bows, only understanding half of what he said. He was hungry all morning, but now the thought of eating wasn't appealing anymore. Stress knotted his stomach, the smell of food making him nauseous.

"[No problem. It was your catch anyway. We just seasoned it.]" Daryll smiles. "[Smells good too.]"

Jimin nods, taking a seat between Jin and Namjoon. "Yoongi-hyung wants to know how long we'll be allowed to stay at their camp before we have to return to our own."

"Ah, Seokjin-hyung had the same thought, so I already asked.. we have until we finish dinner. They offered to help carry him back to our campsite, but I turned down their offer." Namjoon answers.

"But it's windy out now. What if the cold makes him worse?" Jimin asks, taking a breath to try to keep himself calm.

"What if we ask them to switch camps for the night? Our tent is good.." Taehyung frowns, trying to think of the English words. "[Ah, Derek-sii..please.. could ..camp ..different?]"

"[What? Different camp?]" Derek looks at him with confusion, looking at Namjoon. "[I don't know what your buddys asking.]"

"[Sorry.. he was trying to ask if you'd be willing to switch camps with us. We have a large tent set up on the other side of the lake. He's worried about moving our brother that far.]" Namjoon explains the situation.

"[I'd love to help you out, kid, but our heater can't heat up a big tent like that, and my brother, he can't stand the cold. I'm not making my brother uncomfortable for some stranger I just met.]" Derek answered honestly.

"[I understand. You've done so much already, thank you.]" Namjoon bows. "[I'm sorry.]"

"[Nah kid, don't be sorry. You're looking out for your family. I'm looking out for mine. We'll get your friend to the camp. We'll wrap him up good in blankets, and I'll let you have the medicine.]"

"[That would be great, thank you.]" Namjoon tried to smile despite being disappointed that they had to move Hobi, his lips just barely curling up for a split second.

"We can't stay." Jin says it as a fact.

"Sounds like it.."Taehyung says with a sullen pout.

Namjoon nods slightly to confirm. "Let's at least try to eat, and we'll figure this out.."

"Yoongi, you have to eat.." Jin says softly, pushing the plate towards him. "You haven't eaten since we left Korea.."

Yoongi picks up a piece of fish the the fork, forcing himself to chew and swallow it down. The oily film that coated his tongue didn't help his lack of appetite.

"[Do you not like it?]" Derek asks watching Yoongi's reaction. "[Should I have used soy sauce?]"

"[Ah.. not.. hungry.. not feeling good..]" Yoongi explains, ignoring his comment. If it wasn't for Hoseok telling him to go eat, he would've stayed lying next to him. He could hear Hoseok coughing from the tent, making him try to eat faster to appease his worried hyung.

"[Take some medicine and rest when you get to your camp bud. You don't gotta eat it if you ain't hungry.]" Daryll says with a sympathic smile.

Taehyung quickly finished his portion of food. "I'll sit with Hobi-hyung. [Ah, thank you for food.]" He bows when he gets up, scurrying off to the tent. "Are you awake Hobi-hyungie?" He whispers.

Hoseok twitched at the sound of Taehyung’s voice, but his eyes remained closed, his body not awake enough to reply to him.

Taehyung takes a seat next to him, gently rubbing the back of Hoseok's neck. "The medicine didn't help with the fever.."He murmurs to himself, feeling the sweat pooling at the base of Hobi's neck. "I really don't want us to have to move you.."

"I'll..I'll be okay.." Hoseok's voice comes out as a weak,hoarse whisper, pausing to suppress a cough. "Don't worry.. I'm feeling a little better.."

"I'll make you some ramyeon for me and you to share when we get back to our camp. The broth should help soothe your throat and maybe you could get a little bit in your stomach.." Taehyung didn't get his hopes up, seeing Hoseok's face twist at even the mention of food.

"I'll see..how i feel.. then.." Hoseok says with a wheezing cough. He had absolutely no appetite, and the idea of eating made his stomach queasy.

"It's okay if you can't, Hyung. I don't want you getting sick." Taehyung says soothingly, gently scratching Hoseok's back. "You just rest okay?"

Yoongi entered the tent with the others following behind him. "Ah Hoba you're up."

"Are you feeling any better?" Namjoon asks, dropping to Hoseok's side.

"A little but 'm still freezing and..it hur..ts to bre..athe.." Hoseok answers honestly, coughing between words.

"I'm sorry Hoba.. I wish there was more I could do to help.." Namjoon says softly, feeling useless. He was tempted to go against Hoseok's request to wait to take an ambulance to the hospital. The idea of being surrounded by people who he could hardly understand made him feel anxious, and he didn't want to make him feel any more stressed.

"It's not your fault..you're doing all you can. I'm doing better.." Hoeseok tries right comfort him, but the crack in his voice from holding back a cough doesn't convince him.

"We should move to our camp before the sun starts setting, it'll only get colder.." Yoongi urges gently. "I'll carry him first.."

"No, you won't. You can hardly move your shoulder hyung. You aren't carrying him at all." Namjoon says bluntly.

"It's feeling better now.. As long as I support most of his weight on-"

"Yoongi. Namjoon said no, and so do I. I know you feel like it's your fault and want to take responsibility, but it was an accident. It could've happened to any of us." Jin uses his stern serious tone, taking advantage of being the oldest to get his way. "The five of us will handle Hoba, you can carry our things. That's it."

"Yes, Hyung.." Yoongi leaves the tent, gathering up their belongings from outside, taking a deep breath to try to calm his nerves.

Namjoon picks up Hoseok bridal style blanket and all, slowly rising to his feet. "I'll carry him first."

"Alright. I'll take over when you get tired. Don't push yourself." Jin warns tucking the blanket tightly around Hoseok's body, pushing the ends in-between his side and Namjoon's abdomen. "That should keep the wind out."

"Hyungie can wear my beanie too.." Jungkook takes off his hat, putting it on Hoseok, pulling it as far down as possible to cover his ears.

Namjoon tenses when Hoseok starts coughing again, Jungkook putting his hands on Namjoon’s shoulders to keep him steady.

Hoseok wraps his arms around Namjoon, burying his face in his chest as he tried to stop coughing, feeling dizzy as whole body rattles from his coughs.

Namjoon holds him tighter, his heart thumping wildly in his chest, watching his friend suffering. "We need to get moving..it's okay, I got him.." he moves out of the tent.

"[I'll walk with you so i can take the blanket back to our camp.]" Daryll grabs a flashlight to accompany them, but Yoongi waves him off.

"[I'll walk it back.]" Yoongi says simply.

"[Alright. You boys be careful. I hope Hobi feels better soon]" Derek says sincerely.

[kurisus]

Chapter 107 thoughts

[downing a bottle of tequila]

Ummm, so this was fun! Not!

Silly goofy me for thinking since we're wrapping up the manga they were out of opportunities to hurt me further. I let my guard down and got bamboozled so that's on me. Well, one last time to let them twist the knife, I suppose.

Soooo after waiting 5 years for Yato and Hiyori to so much as be on the same fucking page together, Father drops in out of nowhere and snaps Hiyori's cord, leaving her to crumple lifelessly on the ground while the Sakura quote about death repeats in the background. This was really so fucking rude to me personally. It's like Adachitoka reached into my greatest fears and decided to make the reunion happen in the way that would cause me specifically the most possible pain. Did they have to put the reminder of the hospital arc there?! I hate it here.

Anyway, while that part made me feel absolutely horrible, I've been talking to a lot of people and we all agree we don't think Hiyori is permadead. A conflict spanning the entire manga wouldn't be resolved in three pages, it would make no sense for either Yato or Hiyori's development to end her life, Father is able to manipulate the appearance of his surroundings but couldn't actually bring back Kaya from the dead, and Hiyori's unusual condition meant no one really knew quite how to fix it or what ripping the cord would entail. The official translation wrote it as "if it gets cut, you're dead" which reads to me like "you're as good as dead" rather than "you will die."

I may just be grasping at straws here, but my guess is that this scare will just be the push Yato needs to finally cut ties with Hiyori, as much as she's helped him out in ways he'll never be able to repay. Perhaps she will be very weak, or my personal guess is comatose, but I don't think that was it. If it was, well...that would be a very sour note to leave the manga on.

Could Yato name Hiyori and make her his shinki? Sure, probably, but that would also be antithetical to the themes of this manga, which are that change is inevitable while not always a bad thing; and relationships between the living and dead, while necessary, are tenuous. I wrote a 100k canon divergence fic about Yato making Hiyori his shinki back in 2016, because I didn't want it to happen in canon then and I don't want it to happen in canon now. Bringing them both over to the far shore wouldn't properly resolve the conflict that drives this manga, the single human involved with the gods and spirits.

Anyway, here's my prediction: Hiyori will be in a coma, Yato will cut her ties while she's asleep, and she'll wake up with only vague memories of their time together. I want to say she'll be able to give a proper goodbye to him and Yukine, but we're also living in the worst timeline so I won't get my hopes too far up.

I admit I didn't pay much attention to the rest of the chapter after that happened, but let's continue: ohhh Yato you wanna kill trash dad soooo badly <3 throttle him with your bare hands before I do <3

Kiun talking about how it's the younger generation's turn to lead makes me a bit more optimistic for the ending. In this sense, heaven's "kill first, ask questions later" attitude is not justified, and the newer shinki will slowly change the minds of the gods, and a more just heaven will emerge.

All the gods seem to be blighted, however. Kofuku and Take are shown holding hands to their necks, and Ebisu, Tenjin, and Arahabaki seem to have a faint cloud arising from that area too. Judging by Take's line following, the shinki seem to be uneasy about their choice to change the status quo, because the world is heading into a new, uncertain time. Kiun doubts his choice as well, since his determination not to kill anyone caused a fellow shinki to die.

"Weak gods will die, while only the strong gods remain, and this world shall witness the advent of gods without mercy" sounds kinda like a cull of heaven aka what Father wants...except in this case I think it refers to the gods who are willing to change and be more just being the ones who survive into this new age.

So, to recap, the status quo is changing, heaven seems to be heading for a marked improvement, as an indirect result of Hiyori's involvement. Thus, her impact will have a lasting, positive effect on their culture, and she'll be able to live her life knowing she made a very big difference in a few people's lives, and a smaller difference in more people's lives. Make it happen.

Small side note: I'm going to be starting a reread of the manga soonish, and since Twitter is going down the toilet I've decided to switch back over to liveblogging on Tumblr. I'm thinking of doing thoughts posts per volume similar to this format, but I'll see how I feel once I actually begin. I'll be tagging everything as #Noragami reread, which will also be my tag for future rereads after it ends! Hope to see you there :]

[mareenavee]

WIP Wednes--whenever. (:

Hello again, friends! Still writing, just not tumblr-ing!

I am ACTUALLY in the prewriting phase with my very, very dear friend and cowriter Jinumon for an Original Novel! I won't share that on here, but progress is phenomenal. We've got thousands of words of notes and POV character fragments down, some side characters planned, tons of worldbuilding and a whole project itinerary planned out. I am very very optimistic here.

I will continue to write fanfic because it brings me a TON of joy! So that said, without further ado -- some of World Chapter 33! 505 words! Mostly below the cut.

The World on Our Shoulders

Fragment of Chapter 33

22nd of Sun’s Dawn 4E 202

Nyenna clutched at an ache in her chest. It’d been painful since Windhelm, sharp and stabbing, like her heart was trying to escape from behind her ribs. It felt like a rope was pulled taut, fraying and barely holding on by the last fibers before it might snap. When she closed her eyes, all she could see were the ashen landscapes of Solstheim, viewed from behind the faint warp of chitin lenses like some kind of static impression. The image never moved, except for the slow drifting of ash and the soft lap of waves on the beaches.

She’d visited the temple of Talos before departing the frozen city and saw the healer that had once attended her wounds while Athis was recovering from his injuries. The healer could not sense the echo itself, but noted something was afoot, though not in a way that would threaten her life. She’d been called hale and sent on her way, purse lighter for her trouble.

Something still felt wrong, like once again she’d made a horrible mistake and the further she walked on her own, the more unshakable the misgivings felt. The tug of the echo was sometimes so strong, it would prevent her from sleeping. If she did sleep, it was not restful. She did not find peace in her dreams. Instead, a deep guilt washed over her so heavily, it felt as if she would drown. Part of her mind tried to believe this was not hers — that it was another thing stolen through the echo. The other part knew what she had done, and how far she had drifted. While Teldryn’s behavior was not acceptable, nor were his words, she knew she had not made clear her stance. It did not give him leave to be as egregious as he had been, but it also did not absolve her of blame. She tried to quiet her thoughts on the subject and eased her back against the wooden railing of the cart she sat in, hoping to relieve some of the ache.

In the silence of her travels, all she had was time to think, and that did not help ease the pain. Not that she thought it would. The whole situation was a curse, and more than ever she wished she’d never set foot on that Godsforsaken island. It had been the biggest mistake she’d ever made. As the city walls of Whiterun loomed ahead, all remembering it did was cause her stomach to tie itself in knots.

She didn’t want to know what Athis would think of her. He’d been sweet in his letters, but to talk over exactly had happened in person would be another story — and what a story it was. All things considered, it was for the best to have left Teldryn behind. It didn’t matter what drunken, misguided nonsense fell from his mouth. How he’d acted did not match his words. In the end, they mattered little.

She did not love him back.

[stormyoceans]

Monica I'm really scared. It's ep 11 next week. We haven't got Mork crying. (Sam mentioned to me that we haven't even gotten the day bawling scene from the trailer?) This eye donation thing seems a little bit too happy and hopeful for an ep 11.

I know this sounds bad but I really hope day doesn't regain his sight. Because everything the series built up about how blind people also are able to experience this world will all go down the drain. And some part of me knows p'aof will not do that. But then. It's so cruel. To give Day the eyes, the hope of vision just to yank it back so heartlessly. It's so mean. I am scared for next Friday monica.

i feel like i should probably wait to answer you because rn the episode is still too fresh in my mind and i don't have the emotional detachment necessary to be, if not positive, at least not utterly and embarrassingly overdramatic about this but. my mood really flipped a whole 180 degrees because of that ending and ngl. im not doing too well ;;;;;;;

FAIR AMOUNT OF NEGATIVITY UNDER THE CUT I ALREADY APOLOGIZE FOR IT

the thing is. i don't think the surgery next episode is gonna be successful, but i still so deeply dislike this eye donation plotline regardless of how it's gonna end because what's the point of it? if the surgery is successful and day gets his sight back, then it's gonna defeat the entire message of the show. if the surgery fails and day remains blind, then it just feels completely purposeless since he didn't need this to accept his disability and learn that he can still have a fulfilling life: he had already accepted this at songkhla, and it was perfect. honestly the only reason i can think of for them to go down this road is to have the surgery be unsuccessful now, only to end the series with day getting it again after some years and this time working out to show that 'you should never give up hope'. and i can't even begin to explain just how much that wouldn't sit right with me. and i mean i don't have a disability so i obviously don't have any right to say this, but still

not to mention that i actually still feel like those two moments with day and mork crying that we have yet to see are both related to the two of them breaking up because mork doesn't feel like he can take care of day, so they're gonna make him leave until he can prove to day's mom that he can provide for day. which is another thing i would hate

i just don't understand why would they choose all of this when, instead, p'aof could have had mork and day figuring out their future TOGETHER and BOTH trying to prove to day's mom that they can take care of EACH OTHER. like the show made such a point of making day become more independent and empowered but now they're not allowing him to be. i wanna see him walking outside alone with a cane, i wanna see him go back to school and finish his studies, i wanna see him open up his little bookstore while mork works as a cook. it can still happen, i guess, but i still wish it would have been given more focus

im also the kind of dramatic person who can't be like 'at least we have the first 9 episodes, they were perfect and nothing can ruin them'. unfortunately that's not enough for me. unfortunately i need them to stick the landing or it WOULD ruin the entire show for me. and not being able to get back to it and find comfort in morkday would honestly be heartbreaking for me. and you know, obviously the message and the representation of the show is the most important part in this, but also i would be lying if i said i didn't want to have a damn DVD box set of a jimmysea series to actually hold and enjoy since we won't ever have one for vice versa, but what would be the point of buying the last twilight one if i dislike the ending

ANYWAY. im really sorry ismay, i ended up ranting because i needed to vent but im afraid im only making you feel worse with this ;;;;;;; maybe after i sleep on it i will be a bit more optimistic about this but. im really scared too ;;;;;;; for what is worth im holding your hand and im here for you whatever is gonna happen

[bettsfic]

Hi Beth! How’s your book going?

thanks for asking, anon! i honestly don't know anymore. i had a big breakthrough on revisions last month but then stalled out again and bottlenecked. i'm in that place that's like, "why in god's name would anyone want to read this?"

i don't have a lot of hope for it. i wish i could be more optimistic, but it's such a discomfiting story. when i write something that nails the thing it wants to be, i can feel that and i know it's working. i'm happy to show it to people. but i don't know if that feeling just comes from stories that don't take very many risks, that fit in a neat little box made of see-through plastic so you don't even have to open it to know what inside. or the opposite feeling: if the thing i'm feeling right now is an indicator that the story doesn't work and will never work, or if i'm just afraid because i put too much of myself into it and it's too close to me.

part of me wants to set it aside and work on something more serious. (and it won't have a plot. i'm never writing a plot again, so help me god.) and i feel very torn: on one hand, i want to buckle down and write something genuinely good, something that knows what it is, and that thing is ambitious, and it's executed exceptionally well in a way that takes skill i don't yet have. on the other, i know hundreds of writers and artists, from creatives just starting out all the way to pen/faulkner and guggenheim winners. i've had long, in depth conversations with artists who have gone places and done things i can't even dream of. and every single one of them is kinda goofy. fundamentally, their work is play and their play is work. and so is mine, and so is yours.

i used to consider this feeling concession, a kind of sacrifice of creative ideals. i have to give something up in order to get something, i have to follow the rules or whatever. but it's not that. at least not wholly. partly it's growth, although it may be growth in the wrong direction. and growth is uncomfortable, and i often resent that discomfort and interpret it as a force pushing against me rather than a force i'm becoming.

which is all to say, again, i don't know. all i know is that i've spent my life making bad decisions, and i will continue to make bad decisions, and one of those decisions will be attempting to put a book in the world, which i'm doing for the same reason someone would throw a rock at a sleeping beast: something happening is better than nothing happening.