#I am genuinely grateful for the cool people that point out little details in my work like this

[alllgator-blood]

Another detail I really like was how shamura got a heart for each sibling, and in the second to last kallamar, leshy, and heket has a heart for them. And in the last you think there's no heart, but then you see there are 2 small hearts on narinder feet

Narinder is totally the kind of mfer to get really close to showing genuine remorse for his actions + grief for what he lost, but hides it as best he can so he doesn't seem weak (despite the signs being visible). Shamura is the type of mfer that loves something they lost so much that it distracts them from the few people that still love them to hell and back. I am the type of mfer to draw this sequel for you that COMPLETELY ruins the vibe of the last comic:

[chimerafflesia]

Yuri Duel Links 2024

(this is literally just a masterpost of everything that made me insane over the course of the event so I can reflect and laugh/cry/etc)

first of all the sentence "Yuri Duel Links Event 2024" would have put me in a coma if you told me that say like. a month and a half ago. when Lulu and Rin came in September I was SURE it was going to be at least early 2025 before we got him. and Yet,

I was in the middle of getting ready for a concert when I got a notification from the DL subreddit of all things that said "He's Finally In" and I saw a little picture of Yuri and I was like Lol. Yeah Ok. so then I opened duel links and checked and was hit with This:

and I was like Okay. okay. cool cool cool cool. I'm gonna be so normal about this. *narrator voice* "via the tags on this post, you could see they were indeed not normal about it"

and girl sorry I wasn't gonna be normal about it like I've wanted this cunt in duel links since he landed on my radar. I knew from the first episode he appeared in that he was going to be my favorite arc-v character because I tend to have a Type when it comes to characters. it's been the same since I was like 8. sue me.

I even started getting into theory territory I was SERIOUS

(this ended up not being the case but congrats to Dumon for being the July unlock that was a lot of fun)

HOWEVER SPEAKING OF PREDICTING UNLOCKS I DO HAVE TO SAY I made this list back in MAY predicting the rest of the characters for 2024, and while some of these are very out there and Not Happening (sorry Marik and Atticus) I DID ORIGINALLY PREDICT YURI FOR AN OCTOBER UNLOCK. (Dumon for July as well) I AM LITERALLY JOHN KONAMI I GUESS.

so time goes by and I have a month to grind gems for Yuri's box because OBVIOUSLY I need a full character deck for him. would tumblr user chimerafflesia do anything less. I achieved this btw. 9999 gems the day before the event started. I was READY.

October 23rd. I literally wake up at 6am because I was so excited I was like a kid on christmas. I am hit with these screens and actually got kinda misty eyed because it was Happening

I waited 5000 years (about 7 months) to see that "Event Exclusive" in front of him and it was real and happening like CHEERS I'LL DRINK TO THAT!

I recapped a lot of my initial reactions on day one here and here but it just doesn't do it justice like I was just so excited and happy and having the time of my life playing this little freemium mobile game. I've said it like 348735 times now but duel links is genuinely so fucking amazing to me I love this game so so so much.

AND THIS EVENT WAS SO WONDERFUL!!!! THEY DID RIGHT BY HIM I WAS (AND STILL AM) SO HAPPY. HIS CHARACTERIZATION STAYED INTACT. WE GOT SOME NEW LITTLE FLAVOR DETAILS FOR HIM. THAT MAY HAVE TO BE A SEPARATE POST BUT GOD. YURI FANS WE ARE EATING GOOD.

here are some personal favorites. little problem child 🩷💜

and course this instant classic:

but there are so many. I point to this video which has all his dialouge including taunts.

look at these screenshots man like come on. I can't believe these are real. they look like images that would've been posted on reddit like 3 years ago with the caption "This Will Be Duel Links in 2024" EXCEPT IT IS.

I set up this board with all the predap extra deck mons + starving venom and was staring at it like Man We Really Won. this shit's beautiful

Just. man I feel like there's so much more I wanna say but overall it was just a really fun event. this might sound silly to some people but I really do have a special connection to yugioh in general and I do feel like it was fate when it came into my life. I really got into yugioh in April 2021 during a particurally dark time in my life and yugioh became like a lifeline for me. it was an escape. it still is. I'm always going to be grateful for this franchise.

I watched arc-v from March-April of this year (immediately after finishing zexal btw, which is the first time ever I watched two yugioh anime back to back) and to say it fried my brain is kind of an understatement like I still think about this show every day of my life. to quote my own tweet:

like. YEAH.

Yuri in particular is a fusion parasite all on his own he wormed himself into my brain and hasn't let go. I've rewatched his episodes so many times but I think I've seen arc-v episode 135 in particular roughly 124 times. could be more. it will be more.

I can't help but feel like watching arc-v this year was meant to be. (first of all, the same year I watch it FOUR arc-v characters get into duel links? divine timing if I've ever seen it) but in particular the timing of the Yuri event feels very nice. I've been dealing with some personal woes (particulary surrounding employment, amongst other things) and again this event was such an escape for me, even if just for a few hours each day. I can't wait until he's back in a few months. we will be there :)

I'm at the point where I don't really care if it's "cringe" to get this emo about shows/characters/games etc cuz at the end of the day this shit really does mean something to me man. I know what yugioh has done for me and what it'll definitely continue to do for me and I'm grateful for it <3

(PS it is really really fun to wreck people on ranked with super poly) here is a live image of me playing online duel links

[sometimesiammybpd]

this one is a rough one to talk about. that's how i'm gonna start this.

i've only ever been in one real relationship. i had no luck in high school and to be fair, my method was pestering people over and over again until they usually stopped talking to me. safe to say it didn't work out all that well. it also was the aforementioned "toxic era" which to me says that even if i had gotten lucky enough to have someone date me, i probably would have been extremely emotionally abusive at the time because in hindsight, i was to a lot of my friends. so unlike most, i'm grateful to not have dated anyone in high school because i just . . . didn't know myself and wasn't ready to change. and putting that on someone like it's their responsibility now would not have been okay. and yeah, it sucked at the time because i was so unwilling to accept i was in the wrong at any point that i believed there was no genuine reason for people to not want to go out with me. and of course, i was always wrong. like so badly wrong it's not funny. either way, that's how it was until the end of senior year for me. that's when i met my now ex. we're gonna call him nathan for the sake of the post because this isn't going to be me shitting all over him and i don't want to leak his info anyways.

nathan and i met through an instagram comment section of all things. i don't remember the specifics outside of us talking because i thought he seemed cool. neither one of us thought it'd ever go anywhere and i honestly never even saw us being friends for that long as it was. except that we kinda just hit it off from the start. the usual awkwardness was there at first, but i mean it was smooth sailing. and then i realized i liked him. with bpd, it was pretty early on for me and he did NOT like me back. at all. but, this was still in the point of time where i never let it go until i got an answer and i effectively pressured him into saying yes the first time. i didn't know this until later because nathan told me himself. i still am so mad at myself for doing this and trust me when i say, i wish we could go back to before either one of us ever crossed paths with the other. for his sake more than mine. we only lasted a week after he said yes because of a big reason. up to this point, nathan and i talked all the time and i knew things about them that they didn't tell anyone else. obviously would not reveal any of those even if it was to save my own life. but the important detail here is for reasons i will not say, nathan was not comfortable with sex to a point he had ptsd because of it. i have to also make it clear that he did NOT ever get an official diagnosis, at least as of when we last spoke. it's briefly important now but becomes unfortunately really important later.

so, we broke up after a week. nathan wanted to show me that he trusted me and offered to spend the night at my house, which was a fucking huge thing for him. i said i'd like that and we made plans for that friday that he'd come and sleep over. he'd take my bed upstairs and i'd sleep on the couch because i did really want him to feel okay and comfortable. for most of the relationship's life span (all four times we dated, not just the first), i never even saw him sexually. i never had sexual attraction because he was not comfortable with it and all that mattered to me was that i liked him romantically and he kinda seemed to feel the same way. anyways, the friday comes and we go to the mall first as a date. that part was fun and fine. we went to hot topic and i got my first ever MCR shirts. still wear the hell out of the basic fan "black parade" shirt. and then we went to my place. the mall went fine. the drive went fine. but once we were alone in my mom's apartment, he shut down because of the ptsd. i knew something was wrong immediately because he fell silent instantly and froze up. after ten minutes, maaaaaybe a little bit more(?), i asked him "do you want to go home?" and of course he did. so i took him home. i felt so bad for him and he kinda came out of it at the very tail end of the drive when we were by his house, but it was clear he had shut down mentally and there wasn't really anything i could do. i was 18 here and on the drive home, i cried my eyes out. i felt really bad for him but i was also afraid he was going to want to break up. it was one of the worst days of my and i'm sure his life. when i got home, i messaged him on insta saying we should break up and we did. and i ended up falling into my worst habit at that time and writing a bunch of cryptic posts that were clearly directed towards him but i wouldn't say it to him. and the next day, he texts me telling me that he couldn't forgive me because i manipulated him and turned his ptsd into my issue. that's how breakup one ended.

before i go into anything else, this is how i'm gonna handle this post. everything i just told you was past me. that's how it was for me in the moment. present me sees it differently. i don't think i could have helped the crying because it really did freak me out. but everything after? i so wish i could undo. it was not okay for me to tell him i cried, or tell him we should break up, or write the posts that i did. i don't actually know if i mentioned the "telling him i cried" thing above but that was also a big part of it. i did make his ptsd about me and i don't excuse that. i really don't. i don't even think we should have dated because i really did pressure him into going out with me and he didn't even like me at the time. i thought he did but he didn't. and he made that clear later on because all of this kept coming back up.

there then was in-between time where i did spend a lot of it trying to repair what i damaged or broke after that day. and i meant everything i was doing. i didn't want to lose him because he was the most important person in my life for over a year. but eventually nathan said he'd give me a second chance and we started dating again for the second time. the key difference this time was he actually liked me back. and it was fine for a while. this one lasted almost seven months. his love language was insults and nothing else and i took it because i really did love him. i was also so infatuated with the idea of being in a relationship that i didn't care that we had nothing in common and all of that shit. this is not me dragging him either. it's just that we really were never compatible.

nathan had a lot of issues from things that happened that were not his fault. but it fucked him up and he didn't want to deal with it. his main coping mechanism was drinking and smoking weed. mainly drinking. and i don't mean he'd get drunk every night. he'd be drunk by morning. he'd be drunk all day and night but would only drink more as the day went on. and i ignored it for a long time because i didn't want to upset him. he didn't really ever take the issue of his alcoholism lightly. mainly because he didn't want to admit he was one. anyways, that's not the point. we broke up twice during this period. i say four times in total because it was, but i considered both of these to be the second time because i don't remember us staying broken up with for all that long after the second time into the unofficial third. to explain why we broke up the second time, i have to explain one other very important thing about him.

without further details or context i refuse to give because it's not my story to tell, nathan did not like people touching him especially in a romantic way. hugging, kissing, all that stuff. and i knew this. i have always been a physical attraction = love kinda person, so it wasn't easy but in the end i didn't care because i just wanted to be with him. and when we broke up the second time, it was after we saw sonic two. we had talked about us holding hands because it was the one thing he was okay with doing. the day of, i made sure of it and then went to go get him because nathan couldn't drive. and when he gets into my car, he reveals that he doesn't want to because he's germophobic. this one is harder to talk about because i was in the wrong for being mad at him for saying no. but at the same time, i was told over and over that yeah we can. it was the one thing i thought we could do, physical attraction wise. i never had my first kiss at this point. i had never hugged someone outside of my family or held hands with anyone. and y'know, it was exciting for me. but when he told me this, i kinda just shut off. we watched the movie and then on the drive home, i was so pissed that we broke it off either that night or the day after.

our timeline is so messy that i don't remember when this happened but we had another break up (pretty sure this was the unofficial third one). this one was weird. i had severe anxiety and insecurity issues during this and with undiagnosed bpd, it only got worse. i had a habit of apologizing for nothing, except for one time. i had sent a text before going to bed and after he was asleep that read something like

"i'm sorry i'm not a good girlfriend. i'm really sorry i'm not good enough for you.... and a bunch of other shit i don't remember."

and i went to sleep. i woke up to paragraphs up on paragraphs of messages from him. nathan kinda just laid it all out there. he told me i had been making him upset for months, but that he didn't want to tell me or upset me. so he ran to his friends behind my back and was venting for months which led them to say to him that i was a "manipulative, abusive piece of shit." honestly, i still don't know if they were right about that or not. but i remember him ending all of this. paragraphs and paragraphs of soul-crushing shit with "don't worry, i won't break up with you." i almost didn't respond because i didn't know what i was supposed to say. i pretty much had assumed up to that point that everything was fine and it wasn't. i kinda lost myself at that point and a certain friend of mine could easily recall the conversation that followed the receiving of those messages. i ended it that time.

the real third time we dated, it was... the worst time. because at this point, i was losing feelings for him. and this time, he initiated it. this is really the point it all went to hell. somehow, i made him comfortable enough to want to try and have sex again. although, i'll explain in a bit what he told me about how he wanted it to go down. it was not okay. it started with him sending me a series of nudes and led to him asking if i'd be okay having sex with him. i had no feelings for him and a lot of my feelings that still existed were mostly frustration. but i said yes. and i want to make this clear: originally, i did NOT say yes because i was sexually attracted to him. i was so used to doing whatever i could to help him and this was a big deal for him. i had no intention of doing this because i just wanted to lay him. and this is where my biggest issue came in that i honestly didn't even know i had at the time.

a big thing that comes with most people who have bpd is something called hypersexuality. if you don't know what that is, basically it's like a sex addiction. when you're horny, it's all you can think about to the point that most people with bpd will go out of their way to get sex even if it means putting themselves in horrific situations that could get them hurt, killed, given an std, whatever. and for me, i have come to learn that with mine especially, once someone introduces sex into the relationship, i literally cannot view it the same no matter how hard i try. cause all i can think about is the sex. and most if not all of the time, i'm NOT sexually attracted to whoever it is. i rarely get down peoples where i'm repulsed by it which is also what happens with people with hypersexuality. and it fucking sucks. it makes things so difficult and drives people away. i want to go into this more in its own post, but that's what's important for this. and one more very important thing: me knowing this doesn't excuse what i did then. and no. it's not what you're thinking most likely.

so nathan wanted to warm up by sending nudes. getting comfortable showing me his body, i guess. and i was at first saying fine because he said it helped and that's all i cared about. but then the hypersexuality started to take over and all i started to want was the sex. i was still not sexually attracted to him. i never was. i know that sounds like it makes no sense or isn't really the truth, but it is. it happens so much more than i want to admit. so he kept sending nudes except that i started to ask for a lot. he told me at first that i could ask for some. and because all that stuck in my head was sex, i asked him for a lot and the worst part for me that i did to him was basically only talk to him for it. the explanation is that i started to seriously resent him because for over a year at this point, all i felt like i did was take care of him and basically try to fix him myself. and it wasn't like he didn't lean into it himself which only solidified that that had to be my purpose in the relationship. it's why i said yeah initially to him asking if we could fuck. it's why he wanted to date the final time because he told me himself that it made him feel better about it than if we were just friends. we never had sex and i never forced him to have sex with me. i need to make that clear. i would fucking never and i don't take that shit lightly. but i went way too insane with the nudes and i made him severely uncomfortable and kind of didn't realize it ever. he had to tell me when it was beyond too late to stay friends that it made things worse. but besides all of that, the way it ended is all i remember.

and before i say that, i want to tell you what he wanted in order for him to be okay with us having sex. i couldn't ask if he was comfortable or if what i was doing was okay. he told me he'd immediately shut down once we got into it and i had to basically just . . . go through it with it anyways. he told me he wouldn't be speaking and i kind of had to r-word him basically. i'm not even kidding. this stuff i don't remember agreeing to because it came after the initial "would you have sex with me" question. because it made me severely uncomfortable for him to unironically say i'd basically be r-wording him but somehow it was okay.

this entire thing makes me . . . really uncomfortable to relive. uhm, so, uh. i wanted to take him to kings island. we both were not the biggest fan of roller coasters, but i thought we could ride some of the smaller ones together. i thought it'd be sweet. and i feel like if i didn't miscommunicate things, it would have been. because i do remember telling him he didn't have to ride rides if he didn't want to. i meant to say the real rides as they're called. rides like diamondback, vertigo, the beast. not shit like shake, raddle, and roll (which is a contained ride where you go in circles until it slows down. it's fun and only lasts like five minutes, give or take). that day, i asked my best friend at the time to come with me and him. i knew it wouldn't end well and yeah, it didn't. he agreed to and we went to go get nathan. the ride there was fine, but after we got him, it wasn't. nathan had an abusive father, so any signs of anger shut him down and a particularly stupid mother fucker got me to scream for a second because he didn't know what he was doing and almost got us killed. actually. nathan freaked out thinking i was going to hit him and i had to calm him down. the rest of the day was a $200+ waste of money (i paid for both his ticket and mine). from the getgo, it was clear he wouldn't even try the effective kid (or "all ages" depending on who you ask) rides. it made me so angry because at the time especially, i thought i had communicated it well and didn't get it. in hindsight, i could have done it better. infinitely better. but i don't excuse him letting me buy him a ticket just for him to not effectively using it. every time we went on a ride, he'd sit on the curb like a child in timeout and it just . . . yeah. after two rides and a meal, we left because i couldn't do it anymore. i still remember him asking me if i was mad at him when we were leaving. this is another "i don't really know who's at fault" one or if there is even a right answer for that.

there's more that happened after we broke up, but i wrote the stuff regarding sex last and i don't like to think about that. because i don't like how bad i was then. how desperate and how i treated him. because i apologized a million times, but it does a lick of shit. and i didn't deserve for him to accept the apology anyways. i still don't and i don't want him to. in his story, even if i never crossed that line physically, i did with the nudes. i made him feel like he couldn't say no and i will never be able to undo that.

the overall point of sharing all this because for all the stuff he did do in return, to me, nothing comes close to our final time together and the way i acted. and it's something i think about every day and something i probably will til the end of my life. i have brought this up in therapy and the hypersexuality. it's one of the things i am trying so hard to understand and control since i can't afford medication. but i have nothing since then but try and change and stop myself from ever doing that again to someone else.

there's no positive message for this one. so, uh, yeah.

[maximotts]

'*•.¸♡ 𝑀𝑦 𝑉𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠 ♡¸.•*'

I wanted to put a good bit of positivity on my blog to start off my little Valentine's Weekend so, here are my personal loves! It's a bit of a long post, but well.. ya girl's got a big heart and there are so many people who I simply love and admire and I want them to know it.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

@wellsayhelloaagin - You know I'm not great at public displays of affection, but here I am, trying! My darling, my love, every day I wake up and I'm reminded just how lucky I am to be your girlfriend. Thank you for trusting me with your heart and being gentle with mine. Somehow you still love and support me even when I'm at my darkest, lowest points and there's absolutely no way I can ever repay you or tell you how grateful I am- I'll just have to tell you how much I love you every day, forever. I adore you more than words can say and I can't wait to spend the rest of my days right by your side.

@didujustcallmedumb - Honestly you may be asleep whenever this posts, but when you see it please know that I love you endlessly; there's nothing in the world that could make me want to lose a friendship with so much honesty, laughter, and fun. 100% can't wait for your bridal party in the future to take all the worst pictures of us and keep them forever.

@stealth-kittyy - You are just stellar, really and truly. From day one we just clicked so effortlessly and I love the good morning texts and the endless iMessage games that, even though you keep losing in Connect 4, you'll always play with me when I'm sad or need a distraction. I want to give you the biggest hug; never doubt how special you are to me, my emotional cancer bestie!

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

@wandaromanova - We've been friends for so long, you're like family tbh. I think you were my first follower actually which is so fucking wild because I always thought you were like so cool and popular and you just followed me instantly and wanted to be friends, mind-blowing really. You never fail to bring the chaos whenever we talk and I hope you've gotten your little.. cat ... egg.. thingie? I love you soooo much!!

@temptationsbrew - I wanted to talk to you for so long before we actually did and I'm really so happy we both did because you're truly the coolest person ever. You're always there for me when something happens and I always know we can work through stuff together no matter what it is. Also your writing just.. always leaves me speechless; no matter what it is I always want to read it again and again, you're a genuine inspiration!

@tastetherambeau - BESTIEEEEE!!! I love that I can always just pop up to you in caps and start screaming about something, it feeds my soul. And even better, you're always like, my voice of reason and the queen of good boundaries and reminding me that I'm actually worth taking care of myself and being the best person I can be. One day we're gonna hang out and probably just scream a lot about Marvel and I cannot wait.

@twilight-99-tm - Bro honestly I could say so much about you because you're just beyond amazing. You always talk through things with me whether it be fics or life problems and I'm wishing you nothing but happiness with your new little gay relationship, y'all are so cute and I adore you both.

@therunawaykind - Dani you truly are my soft lifesaver; we haven't even been friends for that long, but still you are one of the most intelligent, genuine, and talented people I know. You're somehow always willing to step in when I'm overwhelmed or need to take a break and that's just so wildly invaluable; please know that I will always do the same thing for you when you need me to! I love our long detailed conversations about social dynamics or writing or really just anything, you're the best nerd friend I could ever ask for!

@vancityfire13 - YOU'RE SO COOL, STOP BEING SO COOL!!! I'm still stuck in "oh my gosh Jo wants to be my friend!!" mode really, I can't believe Sammi didn't tell me that y'all were friends earlier because maybe then I'd be able to have been friends with you sooner! But even so, you are so creative and fun and you always check in on me, it's really the sweetest thing. And your puppy is definitely part of the Cosmo conspiracy, I don't know how yet but... somehow

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

And then lastly, I want to give a little note for my server because fuck, you guys are wild, but I guess I love you.. no truly, you always make me smile somehow even after this abysmal week; y'all always find a way. You're all very sweet and kind people in your own ways, but you make me so happy and overjoyed that you give me the opportunity to come in and see whatever weird conversation of the minute is going on. You're all goobers, but you're my goobers and you're very special to me.

[cherienymphe]

None Of Your Concern (Chris Evans x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON(NON-CON?), AGE GAP, CHEATING(?)

DNI IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary:  costars for a little over a year, Chris has always been protective of you in the cutthroat industry much like a father would be. However, when he learns that your boyfriend is even older than him, he realizes that his feelings might not be so familial after all

~

“Okay, so it’s sort of cool that a small chunk of the Avengers gang is reunited for this movie,” the interviewer said with a chuckle.

You all joined in, in agreement. She rested her blue eyes on you.

“I know that you were a huge fan of the franchise, Y/N. I mean, over the years there have been quite a few tweets from you about the movies, ranging from…‘Spider-Man’s on team Iron-Man so therefore I am on team Iron-Man’ to ‘Scott Lang deserves the world’,” she said, reading from her phone.

Tom got a huge kick out of that first one, and you rolled your eyes. The interviewer’s eyes flickered between you two, a small smile on her lips.

“I mean, am I wrong? Does Scott Lang not deserve the world?”

She nodded with a grin.

“No, you’re right, he definitely does! I just feel like being cast in this movie and having been on the set for a little over a year must have been something like a dream come true,” she pressed.

You thought about your answer for a moment, just like your publicist advised.

“Yeah, you could say that. It’s sort of surreal going from having been kind of a casual fan of someone to interacting with them almost every day for a year,” you honestly answered.

You didn’t know if you would ever get used to interviews, no matter how private they were. You were grateful you weren’t on Jimmy Fallon or something with a live audience watching your every move, but sitting next to Tom, Anthony, Sebastian, Chris, and Tessa in a room was almost just as bad in your eyes.

“…and you’ve gotten super close with your castmates, I’d say.”

You heard Tessa clear her throat, and when you caught her eye, she gave you a look, but you didn’t understand it.

“Yeah, definitely! I love them all and they’ve easily become some of my closest friends now,” you replied, eyes meeting the interviewer’s again.

She threw you a secretive smile.

“…but you and Tom seem to hang out together more than the rest of the cast. As thick as thieves some would say,” she pressed.

Your lips parted, caught off guard, and when you caught Tessa’s eye again, you recognized the sympathetic look she was giving you. A light bulb seemed to go off in your head as you realized what she was trying to warn you against earlier, the very thing you’d unknowingly walked into. Luckily, Tom jumped in before you did.

“Well,” he started, straightening in his seat, shoulder brushing your own. “Y/N and I are the youngest members of the main cast. We don’t really have much in common with the senior citizens to my left.”

He feigned a whisper during the last part, not so discreetly pointing to his left. It had the desired effect, and you were grateful that he was trying to draw the attention away from you.

“Um,” Tessa loudly began, straightening up in her seat just as Anthony, Chris, and Sebastian all spoke up at once.

“I think what he means to say is we don’t allow the children to eat at the adult’s table,” Anthony threw in.

“Yeah, its definitely more like we exclude them, and they have no choice but to hang out together,” Sebastian joked.

“Senior citizens,” Chris scoffed, cutting his eyes at Tom.

The interviewer laughed at the turn of events, but unfortunately, she was determined to expose whatever she thought was going on between you and Tom.

“So you two are rather close then? Being alienated and all,” she chuckled.

Tom laughed, albeit a bit uncomfortably as it became clear that she wasn’t going to give up. He nudged you, gesturing for you to take the stand, having already tried to steer her in another direction.

“Well…yes, but we’re all rather close, but yeah. I would say that Tom is kind of like my best friend,” you honestly told her.

She aw’d at that, tilting her head to the side. You cut your eyes to everyone else in the room, narrowing them as it became clear that they weren’t going to help the two of you get out of this. You just knew Anthony was enjoying this…

“Just friends then? Because you two have a lot of fans, and a lot of them seem to think there’s more to the friendship, or at least, they hope there is, and honestly? Who can blame them? You two are always spotted hanging out together, going for coffee, running to Target… You’re practically joined at the hip.”

As she came outright and said it, you both wasted no time in refuting it.

“Oh, God no,” you cried, shaking your head.

“No, no, absolutely not,” Tom laughed. “Y/N and I are simply good friends. She has much better taste than I do, hence why I have to drag her to Target. Besides, we don’t have Target back home, so whenever I’m in the states, I’m going shopping there every chance I get.”

“I don’t know, I think they answered that just a little too quickly for me,” Tessa suddenly wondered aloud.

You threw her a look of betrayal as Chris added on.

“Yeah, that…that wasn’t convincing, at all,” he said in between chuckles.

You gaped at him as Tom ran his hand through his hair.

“No, Y/N and I are just friends, and nothing more. She-she has a boyfriend, anyway,” he threw out, and you playfully hit his arm.

“Tom,” you warned.

You weren’t genuinely upset that he’d let that slip, especially since you didn’t exactly care if people knew. People knowing you had a boyfriend wasn’t the cause of your apprehension. It came from certain details about your boyfriend…

“Wait, you have a boyfriend?”

Four people said several variations of this at the same time, and you cringed. Tom at least looked a bit ashamed as the interviewer watch on in amusement.

“I didn’t say any names,” he defended, hands up.

You caught Anthony’s eye and he was looking at you like you’d just hid the world’s biggest secret. Tessa looked scandalized as well, and you didn’t dare look at Chris and Sebastian.

“Wait…wait a minute,” the interviewer said, sitting up in her own chair as she looked at you two.

There was a slow smirk forming on her lips.

“So…you have a boyfriend that nobody else seems to know about…except for Tom…”

You both froze, realizing how this looked. A few chuckles reached your ears, and you exhaled.

“Okay, I know how this looks…”

“It isn’t like that, at all,” Tom reiterated. “He’s a swell chap, no, really. He’s brilliant-.”

“You’ve met him then?”

“Well, yeah-.”

“Wait, wait, wait. So how come you’ve met this ‘boyfriend’ and none of us have?” Anthony wondered.

“Yeah, this sounds like a bit of a cover,” the interviewer added.

“Not a very convincing one,” Sebastian whispered.

“Okay, okay! I know that I’m not super talkative about it, but have we all forgotten that I have a girlfriend?”

That seemed to quiet everyone down.

“…besides, her boyfriend is like forty anyway, so its definitely not me,” he laughed, realizing too late what he’d said.

“Tom!” you cried.

Both of his hands were covering his mouth, eyes wide as all hell broke loose. You blinked several times, mouth agape in shock.

“I’m sorry, what?” Tessa yelled over the others.

“Forty?”

Sebastian, Chris, and Anthony were all talking over each other, all of their questions directed at you while you just stared at Tom who stared back, pleading. He slid his hands down, teeth bared as shame filled his features, cringing.

“I’m so, so, so sorry…”

His apology was overshadowed by Sebastian.

“Forty?” he repeated.

“Tom’s exaggerating, okay? He’s more like thirty,” you quickly said, trying to ease the tension and make light of the situation.

Tom’s eyes were wide as they met yours, and you quickly looked away.

“So, the boyfriend isn’t Tom…and he’s only thirty then?” the interviewer finally spoke up when the room was finally quiet once again.

You sighed, eyes meeting Tom’s again as he looked to see what you were going to do. You thought about what your publicist would advise. You’d been a part of stan twitter once. You knew how the internet could be. They’d dig until they found out the truth, and discovering his actual age, and identity by extension, would be pretty bad for both of you. Against your better judgement, you decided to be truthful since the cat was out of the bag, hoping it’d be enough to keep people’s curiosity at bay.

“No, he’s definitely 43,” you quietly admitted.

Once again, all hell broke loose.

As soon as the interview was over, you were the first one out of the room, Tom right behind you. You could hear your name being called, and Tom pushed you along.

“Go, go, go,” he urged.

You had just made it to your dressing room when a muscular arm slid between the door and the frame as you attempted to close it.

“Anthony, not now!”

“No, no, now.”

He pushed the door open, and you denied him entrance, two familiar faces behind him. Neither him, Sebastian, or Chris looked pleased with you, and you just knew that they weren’t going to let this go…not without a fight. Tessa passed by, and you sent her a pleading look.

She heaved a sigh, slowing down before reaching out to pull them all back.

“C’mon guys. Leave the poor girl alone,” she said.

“We just want to talk,” Sebastian said.

It was a lie.

“I’m not discussing this with you,” you told them, eyes meeting Chris’. “Any of you.”

You tried to ignore his frown as you closed and locked the door. With a sigh, you dug through your purse for your phone. You texted Alex, your boyfriend, warning him of what might make it into the article. You weren’t actually upset about the turn of events, you just hated the aftermath that would ensue.

You blamed the interviewer most of all. You knew that Tom was just trying to clear the air and make it known that there wasn’t anything going on between you two. You knew how flustered he could get sometimes when he started rambling, and you also texted him to let him know that everything was fine, and you weren’t mad.

Your main concern was the trio down the hall. Tessa felt like an older sister at times, and while you wish that it had been on your terms, you weren’t opposed to talking to her about this. You knew the conversation was going to happen eventually. Anthony, Sebastian, and Chris on the other hand were a completely different matter.

You stuck your head out, glancing around before leaving the room.

Your friendship with Seb was way more casual than with the other two. You cracked jokes and hung out with all of them often, but half the time it felt like Chris and Anthony were scolding you and telling you what you could or couldn’t do. Sebastian didn’t care, and you liked that. Hence why you didn’t verbally oppose when he suddenly came out of nowhere, easily falling into stride with you.

He didn’t say anything for a while, but you knew it was coming. You bit your lip, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing that he was doing the same. He abruptly stopped, and so did you.

“Forty-three?”

You avoided his piercing gaze, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as he faced you.

“Seb…please…”

“I mean, I’m not judging, I promise,” he said, hands raised.

“Except, you are though,” you sighed, looking at him. “You’re judging, just a little bit.”

His arms fell at his sides.

“Okay, so I’m judging just a little bit, but can you blame me? The guy’s older than Anthony,” he scoffed.

You chuckled.

“Yeah, he is, but I don’t care,” you told him.

“Clearly. I’m just saying, he’s old enough to be your father,” he said.

“Well, it’s a good thing he’s not, because then that would be weird,” you threw at him, rolling your eyes.

He heaved a heavy sigh, and somehow, you got the feeling that he’d drawn the short straw on who was going to come and talk sense into you. You briefly glanced down the hall, brows furrowed. He placed his hands on your shoulders, and you hated how he was looking at you. Like you were a child doing something bad. Your jaw clenched.

“I know you’re an adult…”

You let out a humorless chuckle.

“Do you know who you sound like, right now?”

He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“At the risk of sounding like Chris…”

“You sound like Chris, that’s who you sound like.”

“…this industry can be…ruthless,” he continued.

“Don’t I know it?” you sarcastically replied.

“…and you’re still so fresh and new and there are plenty of people just looking to take advantage of someone like you and your talent and potential…”

“My boyfriend isn’t one of them, okay? He has plenty of talent on his own,” you informed him.

Sebastian tilted his head to the side, eyes narrowing.

“What his name, anyway?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you slowly sang.

“Well…what does he do?”

“Again, none of your business.”

“How did you meet? How long have you been seeing him? Something, anything! Anything at all?”

You pursed your lips before releasing a soft sigh.

“We’ve been seeing each other for about 7 months now,” you admitted.

His eyes almost bugged out of his head, lips parting.

“7 months?”

You pulled away from him, the day finally getting to you.

“Look, Seb, I have to go. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you guys, but to be honest, this was the main reason why, so…”

You paused, facing him again.

“Please, tell Chris and Anthony not to worry, okay? I know they’re freaking the fuck out and probably sent you on their behalf. I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” you called over your shoulder as you exited the building.

When you got home, there was a slew of text messages awaiting you. Most were from Anthony, and you answered all of them as best as you could. He was just worried, and you definitely understood that, but he was freaking out more than your own mother had when you told her about Alex.

“It just…took me by surprise,” was the first thing he said when he picked up the phone.

“I know, I know,” you sighed, browsing your fridge for something to eat. “I was always going to tell you guys if it ever got more serious.”

“More serious?” he scoffed. “Seb said you guys have been dating for 7 months.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We clearly have different definitions of a serious relationship,” you mumbled.

“It’s just concerning, alright? If my kid was dating someone 20 years older than them, I’d be rightfully concerned,” he defended. “Especially considering I’ve never met this man and don’t know anything about him.”

“Look at the word you just used: kid. That is something I am not,” you said, slamming your fridge shut. “…and there’s no need to meet him.”

“I disagree.”

“That’s fine,” you tersely replied.

You heard him exhale on the other end, a tense silence falling between you two. You were being a little harsh, you knew that, especially considering Anthony always treated you like family, but you needed to make him, all of them, understand that you were an adult who could make her own decisions. They had no say in this.

“…you heard from Chris?” he eventually asked.

“No, actually, and that’s a little worrisome, I’m not going to lie,” you honestly added, running your eyes over your wine collection.

“Yeah, well, he’s not happy,” Anthony told you.

“If he’s going to pout about this like my personal dating choices offended him or something, then he can suck my ass.”

A laugh met you from the other end, a genuine laugh, and you cracked a smile.

“He’ll come around. You know how much you mean to him,” he finally said after he calmed down.

You did know. Chris was one of the first people to talk to you on set, trying to make you feel more comfortable. It was your first big movie, your first time starring with household names, with people that had way more experience than you. He got you to laugh on your first day and even dragged you over to meet everyone else. He’d taken you under his wing…

Your heart clenched as you thought about how he must feel. It was your business, sure, but you couldn’t pretend like you didn’t feel guilty. You felt even worse once you thought about the fact that you’d told Tom and not him, but Tom didn’t judge you. Tom didn’t treat you like some kid who didn’t know any better half the time.

“I’ll text him,” you told Anthony. “See if I can get him to accept my white flag…”

“You do that. See you tomorrow, kiddo.”

You texted Chris as soon as you hung up, and as the night wore on, your worry grew. You found yourself periodically checking your phone for any type of response, but you got nothing. Alex called though and talked with you until you fell asleep. He was overseas, filming in his home country at the moment, but he called you every day.

He wasn’t bothered at all by what might be in the article, only making sure that you were okay.

“Yeah…I’m okay,” you quietly replied.

“Are you sure? You don’t sound it,” he quietly replied, deep voice gruff.

You frowned before turning to look at your clock.

“Isn’t it like…3 in the morning over there?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he lightly said, ignoring your own.

You sighed.

“I’m fine, really. It’s just…there was a reason I didn’t want to tell everyone, and some people are proving me right…”

“They’ll come around,” he assured.

“You know Seb isn’t the type to care too much, but even he was more judgmental than I expected. Anthony is slowly coming around, but Chris… He’s not answering any of my texts.”

He was quiet for a while before finally responding.

“Maybe that’s for the best.”

You frowned again, sitting up in bed.

“What do you mean?”

“He is a bit…overprotective of you, isn’t he? I know he just gets concerned, but sometimes he acts like he’s your father and…he’s not. He shouldn’t have any say in what you do,” he elaborated.

You rubbed your eyes.

“I know what you’re saying is true because I’ve thought it myself, but for some reason it sounds harsh coming from your lips,” you groaned.

He chuckled.

“I don’t mean for it to, I promise. I just mean that maybe this will force him to lighten up a bit and realize that there are boundaries and lines he shouldn’t cross…”

You blinked.

“Huh. You might be onto something,” you admitted. “I know he thinks I’m such a child sometimes. Maybe this will make him wake up.”

You didn’t stay on the phone for much longer, and your heart sank when you hung up only to see no new notifications. Was Chris ignoring you? With a huff, you plugged your phone up and settled into bed.

You sipped on the coffee Tom had gotten you on the way here, leaning against the wall as you watched Chris and Anthony talk to the interviewer. This one preferred to talk to a few of you at a time, and considering the disaster that happened a week ago, you quite liked that.

That pushy girl had indeed included the bit about your love life in the article. Fortunately, it was tastefully done, only mentioning it in passing, but she had included that the rest of the cast, sans Tom, had been none the wiser. You hadn’t checked to see what people were saying about it. It wasn’t their opinions that mattered to you.

Chris hadn’t talked to you since, ignoring every one of your messages. Eventually, you gave up, deciding that he’d talk to you whenever he was ready. At first you were angry once you realized what he was doing, but eventually you became more understanding. He was probably more hurt than anything that you hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him.

You perked up when you heard the mention of your name.

“So, word on the street is that Y/N does indeed have a beau and it’s not Tom Holland…” he started.

Chris and Anthony chuckled, but you could tell it was forced.

“Yeah, man, I don’t think anyone was more shocked about that one than their fans,” he laughed. “…but we all know they’re just good friends. It was a nice running joke for a while though.”

Chris didn’t say anything, and the interviewer continued.

“Speaking of shocked, is it true that the rest of you guys were completely in the dark about it? I read that the ball was actually dropped during the interview. I mean, how awkward that must’ve been…”

Chris exhaled.

“Yeah…it was definitely something. It made my day though.”

Your jaw ticked as you realized that he was putting on a front.

“…and is it true that he’s 43? I mean, I’ll definitely ask Y/N this later on-.”

“Then it’d probably be best if she answered that,” Anthony interrupted, and you mentally thanked him.

“Well…the secret’s out, right?” Chris laughed, and you frowned. “Yeah, she says he’s 43.”

Your frown deepened.

“That’d be like dating one of you guys, I’d imagine, but at least it’ll be easy for him to get on well with you guys. You all are rather close with Y/N, so that must be of some importance to her,” the interviewer replied.

“I don’t know about that one considering we found out with the rest of the world,” Chris joked, but you saw right through it. “I suppose it’s a good thing we didn’t know though because…”

He suddenly trailed off, letting out a low ‘whew’. He shook his head.

“No. I never would have allowed it.”

Your jaw dropped, staring at him like he’d grown a second head as the words registered within your mind. You didn’t even hear the rest of what was said as you backed up. You almost bumped into Tessa, and she steadied you.

“Woah,” she said. “You okay?”

“No, actually,” you slowly replied, turning to face her. “I’m not.”

You found that it was true. Your stomach churned and you felt like you were going to vomit any moment. The audacity of him!

“I…I have to go,” you told her.

You let your publicist know that you were feeling ill, and you waved bye to Tom on the way out, his brows furrowed in confusion as he hesitantly waved back. You fought tears the entire way to your apartment, shaking your head in disbelief. Never mind the fact that Chris has said that, but the fact that he’d confidently said it in front of other people.

“Never would have allowed it?” you mumbled to yourself.

You were gripping the wheel so hard you were sure it would break. As you furiously got out of your car, you thought to yourself that you didn’t even care if he texted you back or not. You weren’t in the mood to even look at his face, let alone talk to him.

After you showered and poured yourself a glass of wine, you curled up on your couch, staring at the tv…but not watching it. Chris’ words kept replaying, and you wondered how he could even fix his mouth to say such a thing. He wasn’t your father! There wasn’t a damn thing in the world he could forbid you to do.

And before you knew it, you had downed two more glasses and that was exactly what you were texting him. You were certain your thumbs would crack the screen with how furiously you were typing. When you were done, you turned your phone off, slamming it on the table as you returned your gaze to the tv.

It was hours later when you heard a knock on your door. You briefly wondered who it was, but you had suspicions that it was probably Tom. You’d left in such a hurry, and your phone was off, so he was probably coming to check on you. With a buzz coursing through your veins, you pulled the door open, only for your face to drop when your eyes connected with blue ones…not brown.

He didn’t exactly look thrilled to see you either, and you were certain that your face was no different. You pursed your lips, going through a pros and cons checklist of letting him in before scoffing. You swung the door open wider before turning your back on him. You heard him close it, his feet following yours into the kitchen.

You didn’t spare him a glance as you poured yourself another glass, taking up residence on the other side of the small island. Eventually, when he didn’t say anything, you looked up at him, a frown on your face.

“Are you actually going to say something? Or just stand there and stare at me?”

Chris heaved a sigh, resting one hand on the counter while the other found a home on his hip. He stared you down, jaw ticking beneath his beard.

“You’re upset with me…”

“I wonder what makes you think that?” you mumbled into your glass.

“…but I’m upset with you too.”

“Yeah, well, at least my anger is valid,” you spat.

“…and mine isn’t?” he threw back.

You huffed, glancing away from him.

“If you’re upset that I didn’t tell you, then I’m sorry. I mean that. I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you or anything, but you have to understand why I didn’t say anything. Look at how you’re reacting,” you said, gesturing to him.

His nostrils flared.

“What does a man like that have in common with someone like you anyway?”

You jutted out your hip, resting your hand on it as you stared him down.

“Someone could easily ask you the same thing. What, I can be friends with you, Anthony, and Sebastian despite the age difference, but I can’t date someone who’s the same age as you?”

“It’s a bit different. We are your friends, we look out for you, we are not trying to…”

He swallowed his words, seeming like he couldn’t even bear to say it. You smirked at him.

“So I can choose my friends, but I can’t choose who I fuck?”

He glared at you.

“I mean…that is what you’re saying, right?”

“You can choose someone who’s acceptable…”

“…and who are you to say he’s not acceptable?” you demanded, offended on Alex’s behalf. “You don’t even know him.”

He made himself at home, taking a seat as he stared at you, hands folded on the counter.

“So tell me about him then…”

You heaved a long sigh, leaning against the sink as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“He’s…sweet,” you started, pressing your hands to your eyes. “Oh my God, he’s so sweet, Chris. You’d get along great with him. He’s funny, he loves dogs, and he has the biggest and kindest family you’ll ever meet. He’s filming overseas, right now-.”

“So he’s an actor,” Chris interrupted, sounding displeased.

“Yes. He calls me every night…,” you trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable.

“You told Anthony that it wasn’t serious…”

You looked down.

“I really like him, okay? That’s why I don’t care what you guys think. I’m not breaking up with him just because you don’t approve,” you said, eyes meeting his again. “You’re not my father, and you can’t tell me what to do.”

“No, I’m not your father, and I’m sure as hell glad for that, but someone definitely needs to be…”

“Screw you, Chris,” you murmured.

He glared at you, and you fought back tears, surprised at how much this was hurting your feelings.

“I don’t understand why you’re so mad about this! Why are you treating me like I can’t make my own decisions?”

“Because I think you’re making bad ones,” he answered, rising and heading towards the door.

You balled your hands into fists as he made his way out.

You spun away from Tessa, a thin layer of sweat clinging to your skin. Today was the last day of filming, and the crew members were hosting a party. You’d almost let Chris’ sour attitude ruin it for you, but Tessa convinced you to come.

She’d arrived at your apartment early in the morning, fed up with your sulking. You told her about your argument with Chris, and she listened while you ranted about his behavior. You talked with her about Alex too, eager to tell her everything. Talking to Tom about him was nice and all, but it was different with Tessa.

She comprehended why you had never said anything about your relationship, far more understanding than Chris or even Anthony had been. She made you feel a lot better about the whole situation and assured you that Chris would get over it. He hadn’t spoken to you the entire time you’d been here, so you didn’t know about that.

It pained you to think that your friendship with him could end just like that over something so insignificant as to who you were dating, something that didn’t affect his life in the slightest. You stumbled away from Tessa, realizing that you’d had more to drink than you thought. You touched her arm.

“Hey, I’m gonna head inside. Try to rest my nerves for a bit…”

“Okay,” she said. “Hurry back when you feel better.”

“K.”

You trudged your way inside of the huge house, heading straight for the kitchen. You filled a glass with water from the sink, emptying it in no time. You were ready to go for another when movement from your left caught your eye.

You looked over your shoulder, pausing when your gaze connected with that of Chris’. He didn’t look like he was having fun, and your shoulders sagged.

“Can we talk for a minute?”

You eyed him, almost sadly, before swallowing. You nodded, forgetting the glass of water and opting to follow him instead. You stumbled a few times, alcohol coursing through your system, but thankfully Chris didn’t notice.

You followed him into a guest bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed as he turned on the light. He was dressed plainly in jeans and a dark tee, a darker cardigan hugging his arms and shoulders. He rested his hands on his hips in that Captain America way you often teased him about, and you fought a smile.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually breathed.

You blinked at him, the alcohol making it hard to process what he said.

“You’re…sorry?”

Your voice was small and unsure, and his face crumbled as he moved to sit beside you.

“You’re right. I can’t tell you who you can or can’t date. I shouldn’t have said what I said in that interview,” he admitted.

You let out a soft chuckle.

“No…you shouldn’t have. I was so…embarrassed when you said that Chris,” you said, looking at him.

“I know,” he whispered. “I don’t want to make you feel that way. I thought I was upset because you hid it from me, but…”

You eyed him, waiting for him to continue. His gaze met yours.

“I don’t have any rights to your dating life, but…I want to,” he slowly replied.

You frowned at him, and he continued.

“I care about you…”

“I know. I care about you too,” you told him in the quiet room.

“I’m attracted to you, Y/N,” he confessed, making your eyes widen. “I always have been.”

Your lips parted, surprise and confusion filling you.

“I told myself from the beginning that my feelings were innocent, that I was just looking out for you. I convinced myself that my anger at your relationship came from a place of concern…but that isn’t true.”

“Chris…”

“Somewhere down the line, in the back of my mind, I had accepted that anything between us would be inappropriate. That you’d be repulsed…and then, come to find out, your boyfriend is even older than me.”

He chuckled, finding some warped humor in it all.

“I felt cheated. I felt like that could be me…like that should be me…”

You didn’t know what to say. You’d have to be blind to deny that Chris was handsome. He was one of the most sought-after men in America, but your feelings had been fleeting…shallow. You thought Anthony and Sebastian and Tom were handsome too, but in an appreciative sort of way. That was how you saw Chris too.

“I’m…with Alex. You know that…”

He took your hands, scooting closer.

“…but could that have been me? Tell me the truth,” he pleaded.

“I…I don’t know-.”

“I think you do. I think you thought like I thought and pushed any desires out of your mind.”

Your mind was fuzzy, too much alcohol in your system to fully process this conversation. You moved to stand, but he held you in place.

“Chris, I think I should go…”

You trailed off when his lips met yours, and you jerked back, eyes wide.

“I have a boyfriend, you know that…”

“You haven’t answered my question,” he told you.

“I…I don’t know! But it doesn’t matter because I am with someone!”

“…and that someone could have been me.”

“But it’s not, so-.”

He kissed you again, wrapping his arms around you. You reached in between your bodies, pressing the palms of your hands against his chest. He moved back, but he brought you with him. He rolled you over until you were beneath him, and you made a noise of protest deep in your throat.

“Chris,” you mumbled into his lips, pushing against him again.

He was smooth in reaching under your dress to take hold of your underwear, pulling them down your legs with ease. You opened your mouth to protest again, but all that came out was a gasp when his hand slid between your thighs.

You shook in his arms as he played between your legs, fingers ghosting over you and prodding you until he was able to slide them into your soaking lips. A choked moan climbed out of your throat, and he hummed as his lips trailed down your chin, peppering kisses along your neck.

Your body felt light, limbs numb as you heard him fooling around with his pants, the sound of his zipper deafening in the quiet room. You knew what was about to happen. Your brain was screaming at you, but you couldn’t move. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or shock, but you were powerless to stop him.

You reached out to place your hands on his when he parted your legs, and you didn’t know if it was to pull his hands away…or not. You caught a glimpse of him as he settled between your legs, stomach sinking as you blinked at the sight of him…bare…for you.

“Chris,” you mumbled, unsure of what you were going to say.

It didn’t matter, anyway. His lips were covering yours as he pressed the head of his cock against your folds, prodding and prolonging the inevitable. You thought about Alex, and that sobered you up a bit, but it was too late.

You threw your head back against the mattress, nails digging into Chris’ hands as he thrust inside of you. The noise that escaped him was orgasmic, the deep sound causing you to clench around his length. He hissed at that before completely leaning over you, forearms pressed into the mattress beside your head as he started to move.

Shallow breaths left your lips as he pumped into you, the squelching sound of his retreat and entry reaching your ears. Your eyes were unfocused, hands coming up to rest on his sides as you started to moan. He joined you, bending his head to kiss you again and again.

There were odd brief moments at the start of filming where you idly wondered what it would be like to kiss Chris. You never imagined that you’d find out for sure. Then when you and Alex happened, you’d left those girlish and embarrassing fantasies behind. His lips were soft and sweet with the taste of whatever drink he’d had, and he moved them over yours with so much expertise it made your head spin.

“That feel good?” he breathlessly wondered, jerking his hips into yours.

You gave a shaky nod.

“U-uh-huh,” you gasped, clenching around him.

“God, you’re so beautiful… You know that?” he mumbled, kissing you again.

Your toes flexed, stomach clenching as well.

“I thought about you all last night,” he quietly professed. “I thought about your lips and these fucking thighs and how it’d feel to be in between them…”

“Chris,” you whined.

“You’re so tight,” he hissed in your ear. “Tighter than I’d imagined you’d be.”

One of your hands traveled to his back, bunching up his shirt and sweater.

“Chris,” you gasped, breath hitching. “Chris, I think…”

Your words died on your tongue as you moaned, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer. He groaned against your skin, lifting his head to look into your eyes.

“You gonna come for me?”

You gave a jerky nod, tightening your grip on him. He hissed when you clenched around him again, blue eyes boring into your own.

“Yeah? You’re fucking choking my cock. A greedy little thing,” he murmured, never taking his eyes off of yours. “Come on, baby. Show me what I do to you…”

You shook in his arms as your climax rushed over you, legs trembling and eyes rolling as you clenched around him again and again. He wasn’t done, fucking you through it until you were an incoherent mess beneath him.

You never did rejoin Tessa on the dance floor.

~

tags: @harryspet​ @coconutqueen21​ @readermia​ @nickyl316h​

[nodameshield]

how are we doing? have the tears dried yet? I know mine haven’t :: 

let’s start light : research fellows count ! (also, lady, only ten years old? - I resent that).

Goh understands this?? he’s got a silly proud smile and it’s following Ash’s butchered storytelling??? love 

research fellows count ! 

perfectly attainable dream 

sure, go for it.  (look at both of their supportive lil smiles, we love best friends) 

we all know the scene that’s coming ahead, but I thought this was a beautiful demonstration of growth already on Goh’s side.

Listen before the sad part begins let us appreciate for a moment how Ash and Goh were smiling at EACH OTHER after the interview was over. cuties. 

behold : the last frame we have of baby Sobble. I’m going to miss you, bean. thank you for everything<3 (he was so proud of his good deed as well!! my very heart) 

just how fast the night changes, indeed.

Drizzle went through shock and pain at record speed and swiftly landed on anger - only to fall into ✨depression✨ just as quickly.

and then we just stayed there.

someone 

is 

(oh hey Cinderace ! good to see ya)

having  

a rough morning

 (I’m sorry, this scene was just fucking funny - the drama)

Cinderace’s proud big bro moment was just too sweet to leave out - let us not forget, he’s been a big bro since he was Raboot (and even as a temperamental Raboot, he was always gentle to Sobble). And now his baby bro has evolved as well. precious ! 

Goh handled this situation very maturely from the beginning. And here’s when the build up starts. He’s saying ‘hey, let me help you how I think you need to be helped” and he genuinely doesn’t mean any harm! naturally, his reaction is to help his Pokémon, in the way that has worked in the past.

but then he starts to understand maybe that’s not the best approach this time around.

and he’s ready to respect those new boundaries (of course, there’s no blame on Cinderace, either. Much like Goh, he - and everyone, really - was just trying to help in the way he thought was the best).

shoutout to the animation on this bit because Pikachu’s ears darting down was a delightful detail. Chloe’s expression and Grookey’s simmering down drove the point home as well.

ah, you coy little thing. Did you forget how your trainer almost left you behind because of how rebellious you were??? Because you made him feel as though you’d be better off without him?? (Cinderace has selective memory, you can’t change my mind, don’t be miss-leaded by the cuteness)

this build up was wonderful - we begin to hear all these reasons why, yeah? maybe he just wants to be alone.

maybe he’s still very afraid and careful of his surroundings, and his evolution made it worse? (he’d been popping up in random places in previous episodes, hiding, which was also great foreshadowing for this episode !) 

maybe he’s cocooning himself until he’s ready to evolve again? (which, considering his disappointment and how badly he wanted to be Inteleon already, is a very plausible reason)

but Prof. Cerise gets it right when he says ‘we can’t really know for sure’ (which ties greatly with Goh’s upcoming scene) - is it your Drizzle’s quirk? are they all like this? who cares? Isn’t wonderful how he’s a living creature? how he’s got nuances and a personality? shouldn’t that be enough of a reason to look after him, and try to help him right now?

my child, still thinking he’s got to do everything on his own.

and these two are just like ????? Goh ??? watchu talking about ???

can you imagine how MUCH this moment means to him?? he was ready to keep going alone (it’s what he knows) and even when Ash and Chloe prove him, time and time again, that he’s not alone, there’s still something in Goh coded to believe others won’t care as much/won’t be there when he needs them. and that’s why he insists: I’ve got this. I can do it alone.

and, sure, but you don’t have to. that’s the beauty of friendship.

you tell him, Chloe. (actually, without Chloe calling him out, he might have taken longer to figure out where Drizzle was. so...) // but also, it gives us a glimpse into the fact that, while Goh might have felt very lonely, Chloe has been observing and caring for him - in her way - for a long minute as well.

my very point above. 

HEY, LISTEN: he doesn’t know, either. he’s a child, words are hard, and you rotate along the four moods of childhood (happy, upset, scared, hungry (?)) and don’t ponder much on anything else because you are a child, there’s no emotional intelligence to speak of, no need for it, you’re being shaped by your environment and all the stimuli of the world being a new place. things like loneliness, confusion, anxiety... we can’t put those into words - hell, they’re fucking abstract and confusing even when we are adults.

and Goh’s stimuli and environment was, given what we know of his family life, a rather lonely one. Did his parents have a lot of spare time to take him to the park? I don’t think so. Was he good at going out there and asking other kids to play? ... probably not. 

Chloe doesn’t strike me as an extrovert, either, so even if she wanted to get close to Goh or invite him to hang out, perhaps she was too shy as well. Heck, perhaps Goh’s reaction would’ve been like the one above, he simply didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t want to ! and that’s perfectly fine as well.

am I forgiving the anipoke team for making Goh cry? no, never. but this was beautifully executed so I can grow to live with it.

“why are you depressed?” “you have nothing to be sad about!” “look at all the wonderful things you have!” “just be happy again!” - sound familiar? yeah, this was incredibly well done.

as adults, perhaps we see this and think ‘shit, how cool that they’re prodding on these topics, it’s important’ and it is !!! so important !! but if it’s this impactful as young-adults/grown-ups, imagine how impactful it must be as a child to see this and feel perceived. I’m honestly so proud of this moment, this whole episode. I’m grateful they took the time to look into this maturely. and even if children don’t do a full-fledged analysis on it, if they relate (like I know so many of us did) they won’t forget it. and that’s beautiful.

darling I’m blanking on your TW handle I’m so sorry - but someone in a tweet SO RIGHTFULLY pointed out that these are the words Goh would have needed to hear when he was younger. saying them to Drizzle it’s a full circle moment for him, he’s hearing them as well, and it’s helping both of them grow.

He’s not forcing himself as Drizzle’s trainer. Goh bears no entitlement here. He’s saying ‘Hey, if you’re comfortable, if you want to share , I’ll be here’ / as a kid, people did care for him, they kept wanting to know what was going on, but Goh couldn’t put that in words and people pestering him only made it worse, but if someone had said ‘hey, when you’re ready...’ then,,,,yeah,,,,maybe it would’ve been different. 

he’s offering that safety now to his Pokémon, something he didn’t have, but he grew to understand is what he (and now Drizzle) needed. If that doesn’t have you breaking down in a teary mess then you are stronger than I’ll ever be, because my glasses were cloudy by this point.

why, why, why. because you needed to hear all that as well, baby! so did a number of us. thank you.

I’ll say that, however it was that you connected with this moment, that’s yours to cherish. 

Personally, I too had a lonely childhood marked by parents who overworked, and I too spent a lot of time alone in kindergarten and through elementary school because it was hard to make friends (turns out i’m an extrovert, ha, talk about breaking out of your shell...) so, obviously there were easy common grounds for me in this episode.

but I LOVED to read the reactions and realize so many people still connected with it, one way or the other. So many of us felt seen and understood and acknowledged in emotions that are so hard to put into words !! 

so, again, if you identified with Goh or Drizzle or any of the topics in this episode, that’s very beautiful, and I hope the underlying message that you’re not alone gets through.

With Sobble, and now with Drizzle as well, Goh is very adamant to remind us that, however we are, that’s fine. there’s something that makes us special, regardless of other people’s opinions, or their ideas of how we *should be* // that’s the message I’m taking with me, at least.

 and i can’t wait to see how this story line evolves !! I have no doubts that, when the moment comes, Inteleon will be a wonderful addition to the team, but Drizzle is here now, and he’s plenty wonderful already x

Bonus: 

ha ha, yes. I watched this episode three times. And all three times I was a mess.

side note but a very important one: the animation, the voice acting, the dialog, the scenery of the starry night - the entire scene was so beautifully executed. so  carefully crafted. ugh, amazing. just perfect. so happy.

[hrtthrbromanov]

Golden Boy

summary - Its been a long, long time. 

word count -  3033

Warnings - smut, fluff, maybe angst if you squint? 

Notes - Hi! I cannot write smut, so I’m deeply sorry about that. I just wanted to try my hand at it. However, if you do have any requests for future works please let me know ! I’d be more than happy to write it. 

________________________________________________________________

Two years. 

It's been two years since the incident in Lagos. Two years since the team split. Two years since you've seen him. 

You run your palms nervously up and down your thighs, the friction doing little to subside your nerves. Your mind was spinning, thinking of everything that could happen. Everything that could go wrong. You were pissed, sure, but just the thought of seeing him again made you cram whatever petty thing you wanted to say to him in the far corner of your mind.

‘What if he doesn't want to see me too? What if we can't put this past us? What if-’ 

“We're here.” 

Your debilitating thoughts stop at once. You stand, forcing yourself over to the window.  Everything was so beautiful. So advanced. You can't wrap your head around it all. You thought pointing out everything you saw was a good way to ground yourself and quell the anxiety, but once you felt the jet lowering to the ground, your nervous habits got to you again, and you have to will yourself to not wring your hands raw. 

“It's going to be okay, Lady Y/N.” A firm hand was placed on your shoulder as Thor offered you a few words of encouragement. You smile up at him, tight lipped and nostrils flared, still not convinced. 

“Yeah, what's the worst that could happen? They call you a traitor, turning their backs on you and never speak to you again?”

You turned to face the talking raccoon, scrunching up your face in confusion. “I really should've skinned you a long time ago.” You retorted, tugging at his ears as he pawed at you in protest. “Cut it out, you're gonna give me tetanus, you rat.” You giggle, briefly forgetting about your impending thoughts. 

“I am groot.” 

“Yeah, what he said. Suck it, Y/N.” Rocket hisses, pulling away from your assault. You went to reply, but before you could you felt the ground shudder below you. ‘We've landed.’ You realize. You quickly smooth down your suit, going over yourself one last time. ‘Whatever happens, happens.’ you reason with yourself. You felt a gush of wind rush past you as the doors of the ship opened, revealing tall, eccentric buildings, complemented with a deep blue sky. 

You hold your breath as you step out of the ship, unsure of what to expect. You let out your breath when the palace came into view. Your heart thudded in your chest when you made out a huddle of people right in front, no doubt waiting for you. Taking it a step at a time, you made your way over. As you neared the group you could make out Rhodey, Bruce, Natasha, Bucky, and Steve. 

“Two fossils in one place? I didn't know this was a paleontologist convention.” 

As if on cue, they all turned to face you and you could've sworn the world stopped for just a second. You didn't know what to do so you just stood there, offering a meek smile. 

“Who you calling fossil, dollface?” 

Bucky was the first to approach you, his arms open and a grin you missed so much on his face. You threw your arms around his neck as he encased you with his, squeezing nearly all you had left in you out. The hug ended all too soon as another pair of hands was pulling you two apart. 

“Share some with the rest of us, hog.” 

It was Nat. Your smile only grew upon seeing her. She pulled you into her, her hand going to cradle your head. “It's been too long,” she mumbled into your ear. You nodded against her, pulling back slightly to take in her face. 

“Hey, Y/N.” 

A small but unmistakable voice called from behind you. You pull away from Natasha's embrace to greet Bruce. He looked as nervous as you felt. “Now here's a face I haven't seen in a while. How you doing, big man?” You attempted to ease him as you took him in your arms. 

“I've had better days,” he said, the reply muffled by your shoulder. He patted your back as a friendly gesture after you escape from his hold. His expression became softer, as if he were more sure of himself now. 

“I hope you weren't thinking you could skip me.” 

You turned to Rhodey to see his smug grin. You grabbed his hand in yours as he clasped a hand on your back. “Now why would I have such a thought,” you chuckle as he stepped back.  

This left one person. The one person you haven't heard speak since you set foot in Wakanda. You knew he wanted to say something, to scoop you into his arms and say sorry, how he wished it'd never had happened, how he shouldn't have let you go. You could feel his eyes burning a hole into your head. Mustering all the courage you had, you turn to face him. But before you could say anything, a booming voice sounded from behind you. 

“Bruce and friends! Come look at my ship!”

You could hear Rocket bickering with Thor about how it was his ship, not Thor's, and how he was just some homeless pirate who needed to take a hike. You roll your eyes as everyone made their way over to take a closer look. Everyone but Steve. You two stood there, neither one of you making a move to speak. The silence wasn't normal for you two, uncomfortable even, so you said the first thing that came to your mind when looking at his face. 

“So, did you just not have razors, or were you going for a new look?” 

Steve breathed a sigh of relief, followed by a chuckle soon after. He stood up taller before he spoke, “You know, I thought I'd look cool, but now, I just feel.. old.” It was nice falling back into your silly exchanges, especially after such a time apart. The ache in your heart slowly dissipated as you looked into his eyes. You grin, tilting your head to the side, “Well, it's about time. You're only 70 years too late.” 

Steve threw his head back as laughter erupted from his throat. As his laughter came to a stop, he was the one to pull you into a hug. You melt into his arms, taking in his scent as you bury your nose into his chest. You missed this. You missed him. 

You held each other in silence for what seemed to be an eternity until he said it first.

“I missed you.”

“Getting all sentimental on me now, old man?” 

“Y/N..” he chuckled at your attempt to minimize your feelings, though, by his eyes, you could tell it was no joke to him. 

“I know, I know. I.. I missed you too, Steve. Man, I have thought about this moment for a long, long while. I-I don’t even remember everything that I wanted to say.” You were stumbling over your words, emotions getting too thick, it’s evident in your voice. 

“Hey,” Steve ran his hands up and down your arms to soothe you, “we don’t have to talk about this. Not right now, at least. Let’s just catch up. Enjoy being back.” He smiles, and this time you could see the genuine happiness and relief in his eyes. He was gorgeous without even trying, and you’d punch him later for it. 

“I’d like that. Thank you, Steve.” Your breathing finally evened and your words flowed once again. He never pushed you, and for that, you were grateful. 

“But I do have to ask..” 

“Steeeeve..” 

“I know, I’m sorry, but it’s just been eating at the back of my mind. According to Rhodey, you left a note on the fridge six months ago saying ‘brb’?” He used air quotes to punctuate your silly informalities. 

You laugh softly, looking down, “I called up some old friends, told them I needed a getaway, traveled the galaxies for a bit..” 

“And Thor?” 

“You know, we just got him a whole, I don’t know, two hours ago, but man has he eaten literally everything in the ship.” 

You two share a laugh as you looked over to see Bucky berating the raccoon as he tried to pry his metal arm from his body. 

“Should we leave them to it?” Steve looked back to you. His eyes fluttered over your face, taking in every detail. He left deliberate glances to your lips with no attempt to act on anything. You roll your eyes playfully, “Yeah, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” 

—————————————————————

“It’s so beautiful.” 

You and Steve had made your way into the palace, now standing in a room high above the colony. You were looking out of the windows, which touched from floor to ceiling, still stunned by the advancement of Wakanda. 

“I couldn’t agree more.” 

You could feel Steve’s presence behind you now. Even from behind, you could feel his eyes rake over your body. He was trying to memorize every curve, every muscle, every ripple in your skin. 

You turned to face him, as he didn’t seem as infatuated with sightseeing, more so interested in you. You tilted your head to the side as you caught the longing look in his eyes. “I was talking about this place. Wakanda.” You quirk an eyebrow at him. 

“That may be what you’re talking about, sweetheart, but I was talking about something twice as stunning.” 

“Always such a charmer, Steven?” You rolled your eyes at his sickeningly sweet attempt to woo you. You didn't want to admit it, but even after all this time he still had hold of your heart. 

The wind was pulled from your lungs as he grabbed a hold of your waist and pulled you flush against his body. Your eyes found his as he studied you more intently now. His grip on you not letting up, as if he was afraid you’d run or disappear. 

His face was closer now, his breath fanning your face as he spoke, “I miss you. I want you.” His voice came out as a low grumble, vibrating your entire body. 

“And as much as I miss you, I think I want the old cap back. What do you say we get rid of that bear growing on your face? Don’t get me wrong, it’s sexy, but..” 

“I get it, I get.” Steve chuckled as he pulled back, but not before placing a faint kiss to your lips, the feeling lingering just a little longer as he turned away, making his way to the bathroom. 

You stood there for a second, watching him disappear into the bathroom as you contemplate your next move. Once you realized he wasn’t going to come back for you, you hastily made your way after him, eager to be close to him again.

Steve’s body hovers over the bathtub, adjusting the temperature of the steady flow pouring into the tub. You move to stand behind him, your fingers running up his sides and he shivers, leaning  into your touch a bit. Your lips find their way to his neck, placing careful kisses along the curve of it, all the way down to his shoulder. 

“You gonna let me take care of you, Cap?” Your voice comes out soft, and you’re almost embarrassed because of it. But you knew it didn’t really matter, because you knew he loved it. He turns to face you, grinning like the cocky shit he’d become as he caged you in against the bathroom sink. 

“S’that what you want, sweetheart? To take care of your captain?” You shiver as his hands slide their way up your shirt, caressing your skin lightly. You roll your eyes, biting down on your bottom lip, trying to hide the smirk that desperately wanted to escape. You knew what he was getting at, and honestly, two could play that game.

“Yes, captain.” Your response doesn’t take any thought, and neither does his next move as he pulls your shirt over your head, flinging it into the corner of the room. You give his shirt the same treatment, and he chuckles as you struggle to pull it over his broad shoulders. He gives you some help, taking it off the rest of the way. You let your eyes travel down his chest while your hands go up it, and his hands find their way to the clip of your bra. Your back arches as he unclips your bra, letting it slip down your arms and onto the floor. He audibly growls and you laugh, pushing him back a little. You begin to wiggle your way out of your pants, never breaking eye contact with him. “Come on, Steve. I’ve never known you to be this slow. You can keep up, can’t you?” You tease him, giggling as you watch his eyes grow darker. Stepping out of your pants, your panties are the next to go. You can feel the nerves bubble in your chest, but it just makes this moment all the more exciting. 

You saunter over to the bathtub, stepping in and lowering yourself down slowly. You quirk an eyebrow up at him, silently telling him to get on with it. You settle yourself into the water, hissing at the feeling of the warmth that covered your aching body. Before you know it, the water was rippling once again as his much larger body made its way into the tub with you. You watched him for a second before scooting down towards him, and he didn’t hesitate to pull you into his lap.

“Missed your pretty face..” Steve nuzzles his nose into your neck and you giggle, bringing your hands up to run your fingers through his hair. You shift so you’re straddling his lap, your hands resting on his broad shoulders, pushing him back gently to rest against the wall. You let your hands travel to his beard, smirking as your fingers tangle themselves in it. You reach for the clippers resting on the side of the bathtub, tilting your head as you eye him, curiously. 

“I don’t know if I actually want it gone so soon.. It’s startin’ to grow on me. Maybe just a little trim.” 

“Maybe… Maybe you let me take what's mine first.”

“Just as impatient as always.. Relax, golden boy.” He snorts at that, letting his fingers run up your sides, occasionally dipping below the water. You just hum, running the razor carefully over the hairs of his face. Before you could make a move, you felt his hands on your hips, hoisting you out of the water. Your yelp of surprise turned into a quiet whimper when you felt his hardening member graze the inside of your thigh. “S-Steve..” He shushes you, his half lidded eyes running over your form, causing you to shiver in his hold. “It can wait. I need you, babydoll.” His voice comes out in a thick, slurred drawl. You roll your eyes, setting down the blade. 

“You’re lucky I don’t knick you with that.” Your threats are empty, of course, and he knew that too. It was all in good fun. The fun was cut short when the breath was knocked out of your lungs as he thrusts into you with no warning. You whimper, hands flying up to his shoulders as your nails dig into his skin. You bite your lip to hold in a moan as he slowly pulls back out. 

“Nuh-uh, none of that. Want to hear you. Hear how much you missed me.” his thumb comes up to your mouth, pulling on your lip until you release it. He then takes that as a go ahead to resume, lifting his hips up and pushing back into you. He lets his head fall back against the wall with a thud, his mouth falling open. “Fuck, baby. You’re so tight. You been savin’ this pussy for me?” he growls, taking on a brutal pace, making the water slosh up and over the side of the tub. 

You nod vigorously in response, nails raking down his chest. “Yes, sir. Waited for you.” You whine, bouncing up and down to meet the powerful thrusts of his cock. “That’s right, babydoll. This pussy is mine. And mine only.” his eyes are dark as he watches where you connect. 

His mouth goes to your neck, kissing you gently, a nice contrast to everything else. Bringing your hands up to his face, you pull him away from your neck and up to your face, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. He wastes no time sliding his tongue past your lips, yours immediately submitting to him. 

Suddenly, you cry out into his mouth as you feel his thumb on your clit, flicking harshly. “Steve, steve please.” your hand goes to his wrist, holding it in place to chase that feeling. He smirks against your lips, pulling away. 

“Use your words, princess. What do you want, huh?”

He’s driving you mad, and in any other instance you’d leave to finish off yourself just to spite him, but you need him. “Please let me cum, steve. M’so close.” you pant, grinding against him. He gives you what you want, pushing on your clit just a little bit harder, sending you over the edge. You squeeze around his cock, taking him with you. He moans, holding you in place as he cums deep inside of you and you squeal. 

“Steven! You know i don’t use birth control, you dumbass!” You quickly pull off of him, stepping out of the tub. You grab a towel, wrapping it around yourself. You turn around to glare at him, head tilted as if to wait for an explanation. 

He laughs, stepping out after you. “Just doing what I should've done a long time ago, doll. Gotta make you mine. We’ll work out the details as time goes, but I want this with you. I don’t want to leave again.” Your face softens as you nod, walking into his arms, laying your head on his chest. “I want it too. Whatever it is. Promise we’ll stick together this time? No matter what?”

“I promise.”

[spacedewey]

In August 2014, an old acquaintance I'd not spoken to in years hit me up out of the blue to ask me if I wanted to move to a city I'd never been to and do a job I had zero experience in. "I don't know how to do that," I said. "Neither did I 3 weeks ago!" he replied. I was in a complete dead end at my current job, and desperate enough to ask for more details. It was a software implementation job. A friend of his (Someone I knew even less, but a little) had been doing this job for a company based in Europe, with very little presence in the US, but now they were getting to a point he couldn't do it alone anymore. He tried to hire people, couldn't find reasonable candidates, and eventually called up our mutual friend. He, in turn, asked various people he thought would be good for the job. I was the only one to express interest.

A month later, I was moving. This new job came with an almost $20,000 a year pay raise. Literally life changing. I found myself in a completely insane work situation. It was just the 3 of us in a little office in a building otherwise full of aging lawyers. We had no oversight. Our nearest corporate presence was hundreds of miles away in another state, and our main employer, thousands of miles away in Luxembourg. We did our jobs, and well, but there was no "look busy" kind of crap in the downtime. We were downtown in a growing city, in walking distance of dozens of cool lunch spots. We goofed off, took long lunches. Our "boss's" brother also lived in town, and he and his wife would come play board games with us at work on Friday afternoons. We often went to the liquor store first. We had "flex time," and I never showed up to work before 10am. I was making more money than I'd ever seen in my life doing this. People I told about my job didn't believe me. It was surreal.

The job slowly got more professional as we got busier over the years. We hired more people, some of them didn't last, moved to a bigger, nicer office, hired more people. In the process, we actually got our own offices in a cool building with nice views out the windows. We still sometimes took long lunches and played board games, just with a larger staff and less often. People brought their dogs to work every day. The original person who called me up and told me about the job quit the company, but by 2018, I found myself working on a team of 6 people I genuinely liked, no friction, no assholes, no conservatives, no anti-vax people, none of the shit you're bound to run into in an office setting. Just people I actually enjoyed hanging out with and 2 or 3 dogs, depending on the day. And still no real oversight, no bosses within a hundred miles, no rules other than get your work done. The job was harder and more demanding, but continued to feel too good to be real.

Then in 2020, we started working from home. Which I very much appreciate, I am grateful every day to be able to hide out at home during all this, but it's pretty lonely by comparison. By November 2021, my 2 favorite coworkers had quit, and the company had announced they would not renew our lease. Work from home permanently. The guy who hired me, who'd been my "boss" and become my good friend in that time, transitioned to a different job in the company, no longer anything to do with me professionally. I report directly to Luxembourg now, which is really fucking up my sleep schedule. Everything I liked about the job vanished, and now it's me, sitting in my house by myself all day, bored. I know 99% of people who changed to work from home during the pandemic are thrilled, and more power to you, but for me, it kinda ruined everything. It's a real bummer. No work situation I'm ever in again will be as fun as that first 5 years and change.

[angrylizardjacket]

and i’ll miss you

a run to paradise au | [ p l a y l i s t ]

Summary: Lola’s dad, Leo, lives. A series of conversations between Lola, Leo, and Irene, her mother, throughout her life.

A/N: 15,449 words. @misscharlottelee @local-troubled-writer for putting up with me all through writing this. this is making me so fucking emotional you don’t even know. lola’s parents aren’t shitty i promise!! i will say that lola is manipulative but it’s never for negative or selfish (mostly) reasons, but still thought i should warn you.

----

Lola’s sixteenth birthday present from her parents is tickets to see KISS perform live when they were set to come to town in a few months, seeing as how they were currently her whole family’s favourite band. Well, okay, they were her dad’s and her’s, and her mom liked their music well enough but was never fanatical. However, Irene would hum along and tap her foot as she did the diner’s banking for the night once it had closed, as Lola and Leo blasted their music from the jukebox as they were cleaning up for the night.

“A friend of mine got me the tickets,” Leo was telling Lola, “you know Bill, he’s the guy who always eats his fries with no sauce,” he prompts, and Lola makes a noise of recognition.

“He hasn’t been in for a while,” Lola pointed out; he’d been a regular for as long as she could remember, he was a good friend to her father, and once snuck them onto set for a TV show he was working on at the time, though Lola didn’t recognise the show, her dad was overjoyed.

“’Cos he’s been managing KISS!” Leo’s practically bursting with excitement, acting like a big kid, up to his elbows in dishes with his daughter beside him, drying them. Lola, upon hearing this news, almost screams.

“Sweethearts, please don’t let the neighbours think we’re being murdered,” Irene called out from the counter, though there was the faintest smile in her words, and both Lola and Leo called back an apology.

----

For each day that the concert grows closer, Lola grows more anxious. Her friends, while she enjoys their company and their tastes in music, are far more fond of ABBA, and don’t get why Lola’s so excited about punks in face paint. Lola’s cut out a picture of KISS and sticks in the front of her binder, and one friend wrinkles her nose at it, calls them gross.

Lola likes ABBA. Lola likes all sorts of music, Leo had made sure of that, but it was disheartening that her friends weren’t so open minded. Which is why she can’t ask any of them what to wear to the concert; they don’t go to rock concerts. Her dad’s ‘you’ll look kick ass in anything, Lola’  is well-meaning but unhelpful; he has to say that, he’s her dad! Surprisingly, it’s her mom who saves the day.

“You’re fretting, Keola,” her mother says softly. They’re in the diner, side by side at the counter during a lull; the hiss of Leo cooking from the kitchen, and the hum of music from the jukebox fill the air, but Lola’s twisted the straw in her hands that no matter how she untwists it, it’s mostly unusable, not that she’s noticed, looking at the wall where her parents have put their music memorabilia.

“I’m not fretting,” Lola huffs a little. The concert is in two days and she still doesn’t know what to wear, “mom am I a dork?” And it’s more nervous than Lola had wanted it to sound, even if it had been playing on her mind for almost a week.

Irene’s lips twist into something faintly amused at the phrasing, but her eyes are kind and gentle.

“Sweetheart, you are mine and your father’s child,” she says, “we are both very big dorks.” Lola gives her a look as if to say ‘that’s really not what I wanted to hear right now’, but Irene continues, “but I would also say we’re the coolest people I know; me, your dad, and you, of course.” At least at this, Lola’s expression softens, turning honest and a little forlorn.

“All the outfits I try for Saturday make me look like a dork,” she says quietly, “and my friends think KISS is gross.” She doesn’t intend for it to sound petulant, or whiny, though it comes across like that a little, but thankfully her mother can hear how genuinely sad this all makes her.

“Do you want to borrow something from me?” Irene asks, and Lola gives her a somewhat sceptical look that she’d been expecting; her daughter’s only ever known her as her mom, and as an accountant. Even now, she’s in a smart, black button-down and black slacks, knowing full-well that the dress code at Leo’s is quite casual. “I wasn’t always a grown up, you know,” Irene gives a faint grin, and Lola gives her the benefit of the doubt.

----

“Dad, stop- come on dude, be cool,” Lola insisted as she stepped out of her room on Saturday evening, wearing a band t-shirt of his that he’d leant her, her favourite black jeans with the rip in the knee, Doc Martins that had been a present for her last birthday, and the leather jacket from the back of her mom’s closet.

Leo was tearing up. Irene says his name very softly, her hand on his shoulder, but her expression is understanding. He’s really trying to keep it together, but his expression keeps scrunching up like he can’t quite help himself.

“Is that your jacket?” Leo’s voice is strained, looking to Irene.

“The one I wore to every concert we’ve ever gone to together,” Irene tells him, and Leo wraps her up in a hug, hiding his face from his daughter as to not appear as emotionally overwhelmed as he clearly was.

“I can’t believe we raised the coolest kid in the world,” Leo finally spoke, clearly crying with pride. Irene laughed softly from amid his embrace, and as much as Lola could act embarrassed, she herself was trying to act like she wasn’t getting emotional, “it’s her first concert and she’s already cooler than me.” Leo crowed.

“Dad,” Lola said, trying to sound embarrassed, like she thinks any other teenager would probably be, and not grateful, the way she actually feels, “you’re gonna have to redo your eyeliner.” But she can’t help herself, and joins her parents, if only to hide how emotional the moment was, in the way they wrap her up in a group hug.

And before they leave, Irene sets firm ground rules, to make sure neither of them goes too haywire; above all, Lola is never to leave Leo’s sight, she’s strict about this.

“And Lola,” Irene adds, taking a deep breath, “but if you end up meeting the band, if Bill wants to you and dad to say hi after, I know this seems silly, but please promise me something,” Lola frowns a little at her mother’s intensity, but nods as a prompt, “don’t touch them. Don’t let them touch you. Don’t shake their hands. Don’t leave your father’s side at all. Please,” and she looks to her husband, expression imploring, “Leo please, I know you think I’m overreacting, but please.”

“I promise,” Leo says, as serious as Lola’s ever heard her father, and Irene gives a grateful smile, and wishes them a wonderful night.

----

Lola doesn’t have to ask her father if he can see alright, even as she’s sitting on his shoulders; he towers over most of the crowd, and from this vantage point, Lola feels like the most powerful person in the world... Right before the opening act finishes, and KISS walks on stage.

They know all these songs too well, have been listening to them intently for months, and Lola and Leo belt the lyrics back like their lives depend on it. They mosh together when she climbs off his shoulders.

“Don’t you wanna push through to the stage?” He yells over the music; he’s ready to steamroll through the crowd if Lola asked, but she’s shaking her head, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’d rather hang out back here than for people to start throwing stuff at you because you’re blocking their view,” she points out, before adding, “don’t be weird, dad, I’m doing this for the greater good.” Leo raises his hands in mock surrender, grinning from ear to ear with pride. He doesn’t say that she’s considerate, he doesn’t argue that even if she were at the front of the crowd, he could still stand back and still have her in his sights, he just enjoys the moment, enjoys the fact that his daughter still likes his company.

“You’re a good kid, Keola,” he tells her seriously, as the song is winding down. Lola makes a face at that, but then grins and shouts;

“And whose fault is that?!” With amusement and love in her voice.

She’d had her angry, bitter moments, had cursed him and her mom and the diner and the work she had to do when her friends were out being hooligans, but he was grateful for moments like this, for moments when he knew that deep down, she loved him, and loved her family.

As the night comes to an end with three encore songs, and as everyone’s filing out in a messy stream, a pair of surly-looking security guards cut easily through the crowd to Lola and Leo, telling them that they need to come with them. Lola, terrified that they were going to get reprimanded for how she’d been sitting on her dad’s shoulders and probably blocking people’s view for a third of the show, is glued to her father’s side as he’s trying to make conversation with the now-silent security detail.

But then there’s Bill, former diner regular, current KISS manager, beaming from ear to ear, welcoming them backstage with open arms, wishing Lola a happy birthday, giving a joking apology that the tour was two months too late for her. Lola laughs with relief, and steps apart from her dad as she follows Bill through the theater’s winding corridors to the green room, but Leo’s still got a hand on her shoulder; she’s glad for the contact, not wanting to get lost.

“You sure we’re allowed to be back here,” there’s something strange in her dad’s tone, like he’s trying to imply something that goes over Lola’s head. Bill gives him a knowing, but reassuring look, as he tells Leo that it’s fine, and that the band will be on their best behaviour while they’re there. His gaze flicks to Lola for a moment; she’s confused, what, are they drunk or something? Even at sixteen, and as much of a wild child as her father was - and still kind of is - she’s naive.

Well, okay, the band are already drunk, but at least that seems to be the worst of it.

They’re still in their makeup, though it’s a little smeared, a little sweated-through, but they’re bright and friendly and forthcoming, and seem so grateful when Leo and Lola both babble their praises. Bill introduces them as old friends, as ‘Leo and his daughter, Lola’ with a strange emphasis on daughter that Lola doesn’t catch, but then the band, who’d been watching the two of them, watching Lola talk about how cool it was, how much she loves them, they look at Leo as if seeing him for the first time. He’s bigger even than the security guards, with his hand on Lola’s shoulder, standing close to her; the band are watching him like startled rabbits all of a sudden, and when Lola looks to her father, she sees him levelling a look of warning at the band. The moment he sees Lola looking, however, he grins down at her, and addresses the band.

“Listen, we’re absolutely stoked to get to meet you guys, you fuckin’ kick ass -”

“Kicked. Fucking. Ass!” Lola agrees as punctuation, and the tension in the room eases considerably as they all give a fond chuckle at her enthusiasm.

“You want a beer, man?” Ace Freehly asks, and Leo hesitates, looks to Bill, who nods, and then to Lola, who’s finally looking around the dressing room with wide-eyes.

“Just one,” Leo concedes, and Lola nervously asks if she can look around. She gets permission, and Leo sits on the arm of the sofa that Bill had taken up, asking the band what kind of music they listened to in their spare time.

Lola’s naive, but she’s not an idiot; she’s heard bands sing about how they loved girls who were seventeen, she’s heard gossip about celebrities with young girlfriends, hell, she’s at an age where her friends are talking about ‘fooling around’ and it actually means something. And she’d seen how the some of the band members had looked at her, the way she’d dressed up to fit in, maybe looking a little older than she was - she can hear her mother’s warning in her head, and knows why her father was acting protective. For all that the kids her age might think she’s being too safe, being too childish, her parents have never lead her astray; if they’re working this hard to keep her from the band, there was a good reason, and she’d trust them on that.

They leave in much better spirits than they’d arrived, the tension having defrosted between Leo and the band, but even so, as they’re saying they’re goodbyes, and shaking hands, someone offers Lola his hand, but she hears her mother’s voice and moves on instinct, taking a step back, a step closer to her father, though she’s beaming and waving and thanking them for getting the opportunity to meet them, and see them play, and Leo’s hand wordlessly comes to rest on her shoulder, even as he’s using the other to still shake hands. It’s an unspoken connection between them. An understanding for which Leo is so incredibly grateful.

She’s a good kid.

----

“I hear you’re gonna start helping mom with the finances,” Leo says, tone light as he approaches Lola, squirrelled away in the corner booth that’s unofficially hers, as she pores over her homework.

“All I said was that I was thinking of taking a few of the business subjects as electives,” she says, not looking up, sounding distracted, “and music.” She added, as if to put her father’s heart at ease.

“Business subjects?” Leo asks, sliding into the seat across from her. Lola’s holding her highlighter in her mouth, looking up from what looks like English notes. She nods. Leo is quiet, and folds his hands on the table and gives a look that he hopes is intrigued, or curious, or some sort of non-judgemental prompt for her to explain why.

“Mom’s like a calculator of a person; if you could win at doing taxes, you know mom would win taxes,” she says, sitting back and pulling the highlighter from her mouth to fidget with, “and the only reason you don’t have a Michelin Star is because the inspectors are classist, bitch-ass jagweeds who wouldn’t even make the detour that you’re worth -”

“Lola,” Leo admonished her phrasing with a slight frown, and her scowl deepens as she looks to her father.

“Mom said it first.”

“Your mom did not call the Michelin Star inspectors classist, bitch-ass jagweeds,” he countered with, and Lola huffed, knowing it was the truth.

“She called them classist,” she corrects herself, sinking further into the chair and into her terrible posture, “and the other stuff she said too, just not the bitch-ass jagweed stuff,” she concedes, before sighing, and almost out of view from how badly she’s slouching down in her seat across the table, “but I’m just... here, and sometimes I think about seeing if I could talk to Bill about being a musician because I’m kind of okay at piano and singing and that stuff, and I love music and I think it’d be cool to have a job in the music industry, but every time I think about getting a note wrong while someone’s watching me I feel really sick, and now every time I even think about playing in front of people I start feeling really sick, so I’m trying not to think about being a musician, but I keep having these little ideas for the diner and I think about how one-day I’ll be helping run it, and I don’t wanna do what you guys are doing here, so maybe doing not-finance-business-stuff could be my thing.” She’s laying side-ways on the seat of the booth by the end of her rant, hands beneath head, staring at the gum someone’s put there. When she’d finished her homework, she’ll grab the scraper. Oh god, what other teenager thinks like that? Mom was right, she is a dork... Okay, maybe she should have realised sooner, like when she developed a strong opinion on the Michelin Star inspectors.

“Two things,” Leo says, after a beat of silence; he’s still sitting perfectly still, and his voice is kind, “one; if you want to have a job in music, you don’t have to be on stage, you don’t have to have people looking at you if you don’t want,” and as he speaks, Lola slowly raises herself to a sitting position, “and two; what ideas do you have for the diner, kid? I’ve always said we need a designated ideas man, I think you’d be perfect for it.”

In the end, still helps Irene with the finances, though her mom somehow manages to make it interesting, and Lola will always fondly look back on the night she and her mother had taken a break from working on the coming month’s roster to drink milkshakes.

“You’re his favourite person in the world, Keola, he’d steal the moon if you asked,” Irene spoke fondly of her husband, “and of course you’re my favourite too, sweetheart, but I draw the line at using our entire life savings and mortgaging the diner to buy enough tomatoes to fill the diner -”

“But theoretically,” Lola was trying to hold back her laughter, “if we did, we’d have enough money that we could buy enough tomatoes to fill the diner.”

“You’re greatly underestimating the amount of tomatoes we’d need,” her mother chuckled.

“What if I got a great deal on tomatoes, since we’re buying them in bulk?”

“We’re not -”

“Theoretically!” Lola had crowed, which had dissolved into laughter, while her mother played up her annoyance with a sigh, though she was grinning from ear to ear. As the laughter dies out, and Lola finishes her milkshake, she looks over the draft of the roster, and hums. Irene, intrigued, hums in return, hums a question.

“You should put Parker on the weekend; give him the Friday and Saturday nights, and the Sunday lunch,” Lola muses.

“I thought you said he was annoying? Do you want him cooking out the back?” Irene leans forward, following her daughter’s gaze and frowning at the messy schedule.

“Fuck no -”

“Language.”

“He ignores dad’s ‘no idle talking in the kitchen during the rush’ rule, and when he’s serving when it’s not a rush he won’t shut up about WWE, but, he’s cheerful as hell and works well under pressure, which,” Lola takes the eraser from the table and scrubs off a name, before taking the pen from her mother and writing the same name elsewhere, “is why Candice should be taken off the rush on Saturday since she had a meltdown the last three times she was scheduled then. But she’s really good when it’s slow; she refills stuff, helps with prep, folds napkins into swans, and makes great conversation with customers.”

Irene marvels as her daughter talks through a schedule that would optimise each of the strange and wonderful employees they had, and realises something with startling clarity.

Irene knew how the numbers worked. Leo knew how the food worked. Lola knew how the people worked.

----

“Sweetheart, it’s your second-last Prom, wouldn’t you rather go than spend the night at work with your parents?” Irene asked; Prom night was always a slow one, even for a Friday. Lola gives her mother a strange little smile, tapping her fingers against the counter.

“I’m gonna leave it up to chance,” she said, which confused her mother, who was refilling a napkin despenser.

“Leave what - oh, Candice; I know you worked hard as her campaign manager, but she’d want you there with her, win or lose,” Lola’s parents had been confused but supportive when Lola announced that not only their server, Candice, get nominated for Prom Queen, but that Lola was going to be her campaign manager, despite the fact that Prom Queen nominees didn’t usually have a campaign manager.

Candice, who was flourishing with her new shifts, curtesy of Lola’s scheduling, was more than happy to agree, and the two became fast friends. Lola herself was blossoming with the new task, staying up, excitedly making posters, and writing speeches, and hoarding the phone for hours every night to talk to Candice, and the new friends she seemed to be making. It wasn’t that she was unpopular, it’s just that she was standoffish, quiet, and focused, and took pride in her work, which happened to be at her parents’ diner.

Between the campaign, being in charge of the rosters for the diner, the general work she did around the diner, and her school work, Lola’s life was pretty full, and she was surprisingly happy.

Leo had overheard when Candice had approached Lola after her shift, had pointed out how Lola had scheduled her to work on the night of the Prom, and how Lola had sworn before profusely apologising. Lola had offered to cover the shift, and been quick to reassure Candice that it was okay, that she didn’t need Lola at Prom, that she’d do great and be wonderful and that all the hard work was done; now she just needed to look pretty and win. Candice had wrapped her up in a hug, overflowing with gratitude, assuring Lola that she’d owe her one, and in turn, Lola had brushed her off, saying it was nothing, apologising again for the scheduling mistake.

At the time, Leo’s heart had swelled with love for his daughter, proud of her for sticking to her commitments, and for being so kind and reassuring. On the night of the Prom, he sees Lola looking a little giddy, almost a little nervous, and thinks she might just be worried about Candice. Then, when the diner is at it’s quietest, there’s noise outside, and Lola almost shrieks, much to her parents’ dismay.

“They’re here!”

Through the windows, the little family, and the few other employees see a hoard of well-dressed teenagers, some where crowns and sashes, making their way past the window, lead by Candice in a crown, beaming.

There’s chatter, as the other teenagers realise where they are, saying they love this place, some a little tipsy making grateful noises as they divide themselves into groups and fill over half the diner in an instant. There’s a booth where everyone’s wearing crowns, and Candice leaves them, assures them she’d be back, before she bolts to Lola, who’s practically bouncing with excitement. The girls squeal about how Candice won, and she’s adamant she couldn’t have done it without Lola. Of course, Lola humbly brushes it off, babbles about how proud she is.

It ends up as one of the busiest night they’ve had in months.

Perhaps she’d just wanted to help a friend, maybe she’d worked in some way to bring the Prom to her when she ended up not being able to go; mostly her parents think it’s a fluke.

Until the next year.

Until, amid college applications, scholarship applications, work, and homework, Lola sets her sights on campaigning for their new cashier, Abigail, her classmate.

Until it’s her last Prom, and again Lola’s had to swap shifts with the girl she was campaigning for.

Until her parents hear it again.

“They’re here!”

It’s deja vu, with Abigail in a crown, so overjoyed, and grateful, bring with her even more than had been there when Candice had won.

“Didn’t we come here last year? Fuck, man, this place is the fuckin’ best, we should do this every year!” A boy in a white tuxedo announces to a resounding cheer, and yes, he seems a little bit drunk, but Irene and Leo have paused in their food prep to see Lola turn and look directly at them, upon hearing these words, grinning from ear to ear like it was her plan all along.

Oh.

“We may have raised a super villain,” Leo muses, though he can’t stop himself from sounding a little proud as Lola turns back around to head back out and take more orders from students clamouring for food.

----

“I feel like we should sit you down and talk to you about... something, but I’m not quite sure what,” Leo says, wiping down the tables well past midnight, while Lola was cleaning the windows that somehow had grease stains on them. Irene, from where she was organising the till, where they had received so much so quickly that half the bills had been stuffed in haphazardly, chooses this moment to pipe up.

“Using people is wrong, Keola; Abigail and Candice are your friends, you shouldn’t be using them just to make yourself popular,” she reprimands, to which Leo makes a stern noise of agreement. Lola, however, pauses, sitting on the table.

“Ma, if anything, they’re using me; I’m the reason they both won Prom Queen. I wanted to see if business management was something I’d want to do, and it turns out; yes, and I’m good at it. My two-year plan paid off,” she said simply.

“Two year plan?” Irene asked, baffled, and Lola, two months shy of eighteen, crossed her legs and beckoned her parents over.

It takes some explaining, from the fact that when she realised she might want to do business, that she might want to do business managing, and that she’d been thinking about how Leo had told her she could do work without anyone else realising that it was because of her if she wanted to. So she gave herself a challenge; work with the people she knew, to eventually help the business she cared about, the diner. Of course, this asks more questions than it answers.

So Lola explains that she’d switched Candice onto the shifts she works best in to keep her happy, and spent time getting to know her and being kind and building her confidence until she could casually bring up the idea of Prom, and how Candice would kick ass as Prom Queen, and that she had a shot at it, and that Candice would believe her and follow through, and more importantly, let Lola be her campaign manager. Lola knew how people worked, knew what certain people needed to hear, who to interact with to create the most wave, how to market an individual.

“Also, the scheduling thing wasn’t an accident; Candy and Abby love their jobs, and love this place - which is really a testament to both of you - and love me and the fact that I won them Prom Queen; if I tell them I can’t go to Prom and they win, even if I told them I don’t mind not being there, they’d still kind of feel guilty, and I figured they’d want to come and, I dunno, thank me and show off the crown. They love it here and love you guys, like I said, and it’s something to be proud of,” Lola shrugs, wrinkling her nose a little as she looks at her hands, “but, yanno, one night on it’s own doesn’t make a tradition, so I rinsed and repeated with Abby. Now two years in a row, the Prom Queen has come from here, and after the Prom they’ve come here and had incredible food; the people becoming Juniors and Seniors, the top contenders for Prom Court, remember coming here and having a great time after Prom two years in a row. I’m kind of working towards it being a tradition, it was my two year plan; turn one of the slowest Fridays of the year into one of the busiest.”

“While I’m very grateful you were thinking of us,” Leo says slowly, trying to process all the information he’d just received, “you shouldn’t manipulate your entire high school -”

“Twice,” Irene softly reminded him.

“ - twice, just to help the family business.” Leo had his head in his hands.

“No-one was hurt,” Lola added, “and, bonus, I know there’s already a few kind of superstitious Sophomores who will be coming in and asking for job applications soon,” she paused, “not that we need the help, but raises the diner’s profile a little, don’t you think?”

“You know the diner’s doing fine, we’re not struggling, sweetheart,” Irene still sounded like she couldn’t quite believe all of this.

“I know,” Lola’s voice was quiet, and finally her parents looked at her, saw her looking at her hands where she was fiddling, quiet and pensive.

“Then why, Lola?” Leo asked, finally, and she shrugged, a little helpless, as if she hadn’t spent the past two years carefully manipulating her friends, colleges, and peers, simply to increase business at the diner for two nights, one year apart, hoping it would become tradition going forward.

“I wanted to see if I could.”

Looking at their daughter, Irene and Leo see themselves in how she came to be like this; Leo’s got more love in his body than almost any other human, he’s personable and kind and hard working, while Irene’s smart, driven, and ruthlessly pragmatic. Their differences complimented each other, it’s why they worked so well together in all aspects of their life, and to see how well those traits worked within their daughter, they were certainly proud, but Irene quietly suspects that Leo may have been right.

If Lola didn’t become one of the best managers in her field, she’d end up a super villain... Irene’s actually kind of proud, and honestly, so’s Leo.

----

Going to college for Business Management seems like the most logical thing in the world for Lola to do next, and of course her parents would be happy to pay any costs associated, but it’s still nice to discover she’d received a scholarship, thanks to the glowing reports from several of her teachers, whose subjects she made sure to do well in as they would look good when applying specifically to be a business major.

Leo’s the one who drives with her and her things to her new college housing in New York, to her dorm, who meets her roommate and dorm mother, who hugs her for a full minute in the carpark before he leaves. They’re both pretending like they don’t have tears in their eyes.

Lola’s babbling away, reminding him about how he should start advertising the Prom-related discounts for the diner three weeks before the Prom itself, how he should have his employees who are students put up posters around the school, or at least he should put up posters around the school, and the places where teenagers hang out. She’s reminding him which of their employees work best in different circumstances, and why Belinda can’t work with Judas for more than two hours and -

She’s crying, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hands as she talks, until Leo takes her shoulders firmly, and her voice dies in her throat as she comes back to reality.

“You’re going to be amazing,” he says softly, tears shining in his eyes. Lola’s lip quivers at this, and she surges forwards, wrapping him in another hug as she cries.

“You’re going to be amazing, we’re always just a phone call away, my sweet girl, but I know you’re going to take the world by storm,” Leo mutters into her hair, holding her tightly.

“Be good. Be kind. I love you,” he tells her as they finally step back from each other, and Lola wipes at her eyes again, quiet this time, nodding adamantly, before telling him she loves him too, that she’s so grateful for him, that -

“Come on, dude,” Leo says softly, with a gentle smile, “be cool.” And hearing the words that, for so long, had come to mean ‘I love you, I feel the same, but you need to be strong’, since Lola had first said it back when they’d first seen KISS together, has Lola laughing with fond adoration.

None of the other Freshman moving in, saying goodbye to their parents, appear to be half as emotional as she was, but honestly, she didn’t really care.

----

“Hey, question;” Lola’s voice is hesitant over the phone when Irene picks up one quiet evening in the diner at the end of Spring, at the end of Lola’s second year of college, “would you or dad know how to get in contact with that guy who manages KISS? The old regular? Bill?”

“Why?” Irene asked slowly, a little concerned given how much she and Leo had omitted when they talked about him to Lola when she was younger.

“I wanted to see if he needed an intern for the summer.”

It makes sense, but the prospect still makes Irene nervous.

----

“Leo I’m home~” Bill practically sings as he throws the door open to the diner on a bustling Monday afternoon. The server at the door skitters back in the face of his enthusiasm, and as a few mean-looking individuals slink into the diner behind him. Through them all, however, is Lola, who doesn’t even announce her presence, just slips past Bill, darting through the diner and through the kitchen, so by the time Leo’s looks their way, he’s already being bowled over with a hug. 

It was a surprise, and Leo’s yelling he’s so excited. KISS is halfway through their tour, playing Providence the following two nights, but Lola and Bill had dragged the band along to surprise Leo while they were close. 

Leo’s babbling away as Lola ties up her hair without even having to ask, stepping up beside him and falling into the routine of helping him prepare food. Bill and the band have taken up residence in a booth, chattering amongst themselves, while Lola and her father work and catch up. 

“Wait, Lola, sweetie, go sit, go sit,” Leo insisted, catching himself before he lost sight of the whole situation, “I’m not paying you, go sit with the band; you’re customer -”

“Dad -” Lola tried to protest, but Leo was adamant, nudging her out of the kitchen with determination. As they pass the counter, Leo grabs a note book, and gives the confused server a kind smile, following Lola to the band.

“Vito, what do you recco...” Ace asks glancing up from the menu, but he trails off, seeing her father practically shadowing her.

“You guys remember Leo, right?” Bill looked like he was trying not to laugh as he shoved Peter further into the booth to make room for Lola. The others were all, for what seemed like the first moment on tour, silent. Then, Gene speaks.

“If you’re sick of our fuckin’ shit, Bill, murder us yourself, like a real man,” he says, voice gruff, and Lola has to fight not to smile in the face of her father’s bemusement.

“No-one’s getting murdered; Leo’s has the best food this side of the country, right, Vito?” Bill asks easily, looking to her, and she can feel her father’s questioning gaze on her too, so she looks to the others, smile blinding.

“I know I might seem biased, but I swear I’m not,” she fans her fingers out on the table, leaning forward, eyes shining with sudden enthusiasm, “I know you guys have a weird history with my dad, I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t worth it.” She assures, and slowly but surely, the others look at the menu; her dad’s still watching her carefully, even as she’s sitting back, confidently telling the others that whatever they order would be good. 

“Was it you or ‘rene who loved The Godfather?” Bill pipes up, addressing Leo, and Lola, in her seat, goes still. 

“It’s ‘rene’s favourite movie,” Leo says with a slowly forming smile, as Lola chances a look up at him. When she sees the amused, even proud look in his eyes, she gives a small smile back.

“Is mom around?” Lola asks, gaze quickly darting to the counter and the kitchen, and then to the nondescript door that led to the second floor where she her family had lived all her life. 

“At the grocery store, we ran out of whipping cream,” Leo explains, smile growing wider as he lets himself bask in the moment, “menu hasn’t changed much in the last few months, what are you hungry for, Vito?”

Of course Lola’s right about the food, of course, and the band chatters amongst themselves, and to Leo easily enough, though when Irene gets back, for all that she’s thrilled to see her daughter, she’s less than thrilled to see KISS being obnoxious in one of her booths.

Pulling Lola aside, she speaks quietly, glad to see her, demanding to know if the band treats her with respect, scowling when Lola casually rolls her eyes and says the band doesn’t treat anything with respect.

“But I still live by what you said the first time I saw them,” she added, and Irene frowned, “don’t let ‘em touch me, don’t shake their hands.” And Irene gives a faint smile at that. After a moment, Leo’s warm, booming laughter fills the restaurant, and both women turn to see him throwing his head back, eyes creasing in the corner as the rest of the band seem pleased to have made him laugh.

“They’re gonna give you and dad all access passes to their Wednesday show,” Lola says softly, watching the band, watching her dad sit in the seat she’d vacated.

“Oh, that’s so nice, but you didn’t have to -”

“I didn’t ask them to,” Lola tells her frankly, “they’ve been acting like my dad is some violent asshole whenever I bring him up because he was super protective when they met him the first time, even though they know I love him, so I brought them here, and knew dad was too kind of a person, and too good of a chef, to not win them over. They also definitely didn’t believe me when I said how good his food was, even when Bill backed me up. They’re not exactly introspective people, so when they offer the tickets, they won’t realise it’s because they feel guilty for making me upset whenever I bring up dad, but still, they’re trying to make up for it without realising what they’re doing; they think they’re just being kind to a new friend and a cool dude, without thinking about why giving these tickets feels better than it usually does. Friends are made, you guys get cool tickets, everybody wins,” Lola’s still watching the band joke around with her dad and Bill, and she lets herself smile a little, even as her mother is quietly watching her. 

“They aren’t my friends this time, mom, this is business, and if they didn’t want to feel guilty for shittalking a good man, then they shouldn’t have shittalked a good man,” and though her mother says her name with a faintly disapproving tone, Lola’s lips thinned with annoyance, “if you disapproved of me doing this shit, you wouldn’t have told Bill about the Prom scheme I pulled in high school.”

Then Irene says her name again, like an apology, like regret, like she was aware of her betrayal. 

“On the plus side,” Lola took a deep breath, grinning and finally looking to her mother, “I’ve already kind of got a reputation; Bill called me Vito the first day I came in, which is how I figured out you’d told him, and someone misheard and thought it was my name. It stuck.”

“They’re calling you Vito?” Her mother said softly, earlier disapproval vanishing with soft glee, “for the record, I said that while I don’t condone some of what you did, I admired your tenacity, perseverance, and finely tuned social awareness.” Okay, that made sense, and something warmed in Lola’s heart hearing that.

“Well thanks to that, I think they’re implying that I’m The Godfather,” Lola snorts, looking back at the table, “well, Bill was, the others don’t actually believe it, but they still use the nickname.”

“You don’t want them to know that that’s... your goal, do you?” Irene said, wrapping an arm around Lola’s shoulders. Lola rests her head against her mother’s. 

“I’ll only use my powers for good... usually.” 

“I know, sweet girl, you’ve got a good heart.” 

----

“I’ve got my own desk! I’ve got my own office!” Lola’s all but squealing over the phone to her parents, explaining about how she’d been offered a job with Bill’s company as a PR consultant while she insisted on staying in New York and finishing her degree. 

She’s living with her music-producer boyfriend, spending every other weekend at industry events, spending nights in dingy bars that boasted live music as if she were scouting talent, attempting to study during the day while putting out various bands’ fires from afar. 

“That’s wonderful, Lola,” her dad gives a contented little sigh where he and Irene are pressed together, both trying to listen to her speak.

“You’re still studying hard though, aren’t you? I’m glad you’re doing well but you know you’d regret it if you didn’t finish your course so close to the end,” Irene pointed out, and Lola assures her that she’s still going ahead strong, that the company gives her half-days when she has lectures to attend, and she sounds... fulfilled. 

They’re still calling her Vito; she’s garnered herself something of a reputation in the months leading up to her graduation, and anticipated full-time employment with the company. People from all sides are urging her to move out to LA, but she’s refusing to budge until she graduates, and for that her parents are proud. 

Back home, there’s been a strange influx of out-of-town patrons to the diner, music fans, or bands, or part of the industry, usually New York based, saying that Lola had recommended this place, if they were ever in the area. It was heart-warming to think she still thought of her parents so often that she’d still go about recommending their diner. They don’t think much beyond it; she’d been true to her word and only seemed to be using her way with people in professional matters. 

But still, it was jarring hearing ‘the Godfather sent me’ when chatting with customers, even moreso to know they meant Lola every time.

----

“One of Bill’s friends in LA called me up about a job,” Lola’s fretting in her parent’s diner for the first time in a long time. A year out of college, she’s been on the road essentially since graduation, working as an assistant manager, for Bill for some time, then for Kenny Laguna with Joan Jett & The Blackhearts, and a few smaller bands around New York as a manager in her own right, though by virtue of her role as an assistant, she’d been working with everyone in the industry that he usually had dealings with, setting up meetings, organising schedules for the band, setting everything up so all her bosses had to do was sign off and only worry about the bands themselves. 

Lola had her fair share of flings in that time, but it was hard when she was always travelling, and even with the people who she seemed somewhat serious about, she never brought them home to meet her family. Her parents tried to reason that she was just young, that if she wanted to find love, she’d find it in time, but thankfully she seemed more concerned with her career than ever dwelling on heartbreak.

“That’s exciting; would we know the band?” Irene asked, printing off a receipt for a customer and wishing them a good day. The customer smiled back, and went on their way, and Irene joined her daughter, stealing one of Lola’s fries.

“Not really, they’re a little metal, kinda punk band, Motley Crue, but Doc - that’s Bill’s friend - he thinks they have potential, and he thinks I’d be the right person to help him, and help them.”

“As an assistant?” Irene asked, frown creasing her brow, and Lola makes a face.

“As co-manager,” she said, clearly in two minds about the situation. 

“Co-manager?” Her mother prompted, and Lola wrinkled her nose for a moment, taking a sip of her drink.

“I’ve been on tour, all over America, right? But I’ve never...” she hesitates, “actually ever lived more than two hours away from you guys.” Lola fidgeted, “which I know is a dumb reason to not move, I’m an adult, and everyone’s pushing me to move to LA, so even if it falls through I’ll probably still get work, but -”

“Sweet girl, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, you don’t have to explain yourself, not to me, not to anyone,” her mother says, reaching out to rest a hand on Lola’s cheek. For just a moment, Lola leans into her mother’s hand, taking the familiar comfort and basking in it, letting out a gentle sigh.

“They’re flying me out in two days to meet the band, and I can decide where to go from there,” she says softly, and Irene gives her a fond pet, assuring her that nothing is set in stone.

----

“Do you remember when I did that thing in high school, that whole thing with those girls, Abigail and... Candice? I think? How I managed them and got them voted Prom Queen?”

“Lola I love you with my whole heart, but sweet girl, you had a whole supervillain monologue prepared that night, so yes, I remember,” Leo says to his daughter, the two of them in the kitchen of the diner the night before Lola’s set to leave for LA. They’ve closed up for the night, and Irene went upstairs to their little home above the diner to relax for the night while Lola stayed, and Leo refilled the salt shakers. The corner of Lola’s lips quirk into a faint smile where she’s leaning her hip against the counter a few feet away.

“I still can’t believe no-one caught on; only you and mom had any idea, or even still know,” Lola admitted with a faint laugh, and Leo assures her that he’ll take that secret to his grave, his tone amused at how he was overstating the importance of the secret. Lola considers for a moment, shifting her weight on her feet before asking, “do you remember, even before that, saying about how I understood people the way you understood flavours, the way mom understood numbers?”

“Vaguely,” Leo’s voice was concentrated as he reflected on his daughter’s teen years in the diner. Lola made a faint hum at that.

“Do you think there’s ever going to be anyone other than you and mom who understands me?”

It hits Leo like a truck, the tone, the rawness to her voice, the way so much had suddenly clicked into place with understanding. 

Lola was who she was because she was listened to, because Leo and Irene had worked to make sure she felt understood, showing by example as they befriended their customers, the people around them too, to build a kind, family atmosphere in their business too. So too did Lola, going through life listening to people, getting to know them, understanding them, understanding more and more as she went that while people loved feeling understood, feeling seen, they very rarely put in the effort to understand others in such a way, even people who were putting the effort into them. 

“Oh Keola,” Leo’s voice comes out an apologetic breath as he puts down the salt shaker he’d been working with, and at that, he can see the tears spring up in Lola’s eyes. Without hesitation, he’s crossing to her, wrapping her up in a firm hug, “you will find someone who sees you, Keola, who understands you, and maybe they won’t understand the world as well as you do, but it won’t matter, because they’ll understand you.”

Lola, who’s hugging him back tightly, fingers digging into him as she’s shaking, crying, scared to leave, scared to be truly on her own. It’s breaking Leo’s heart to see her like this, to not know what to say or how to comfort her in the right way, so he holds his daughter close, and reassures her, and she gives a quiet thanks, muffled against his shirt.

----

“They live like horrible, little, drunk rats and I hate them,” Lola tells her mother flatly over the phone from the hotel Doc McGhee’s company had put her up in for the week. 

Doc she liked well enough, she’d been to events with him, gotten to know him, and spoken extensively to him after he’d called her to ask if she’d co-manage Motley Crue with him; he’d called her up because the band had talent and potential, but he could see that if they weren’t managed properly, they would end up as their own worst enemy, with the whole world loathing them. Some controversy was healthy, but it felt as though this band could be capable of worse. 

He’d called asking for Vito, for the Godfather specifically, and despite Lola’s apparent lack of experience in the industry, he knew what he was doing when he called her. 

The day after she’d flown out, she’d had a meeting with Doc before he’d brought the band in. She’d worn all black, well fitted and perfectly tailored suit, with black shirt to match, hair perfectly straight and makeup dark but clean. She’d looked the part, had stood beside Doc as the band was brought in, her hands clasped behind her back, not sure what she was expecting to see. The band had been dressed down for the most-part, all in varying dark colours, all denim and hints of leather, and boots that made them a little too tall for her liking. She’d held out her hand across the desk, expression stony, and as they’d all shook her hands, they’d looked her over, and while some were leering, one, who looked to be the oldest of the group, Mick, seemed unimpressed. 

“That’s a child,” he had said, and Lola had blinked slowly at him, allowing Doc to make the introductions.

“That is Vito Fields;” Doc corrects, tone firm, and Mick, upon hearing this, looks to her very suddenly. Lola raises a single eyebrow at him as Doc keeps talking, “she’s worked with KISS and Joan Jett; anyone in this industry who knows of Vito knows you want her in your corner, you boys are lucky she’s considering working with you.”

“She seems like a bitch,” the one in the middle, Nikki, pipes up, his pupils wide and shiny, a dead giveaway that he’s high, and he’s smirking at her like he’s waiting for a reaction.

“I am a bitch,” Lola tells him flatly, looking him dead in the eyes, while the younger two on his other side, one dark haired, Tommy, and one blonde, Vince, startled by her response, break out into giggles. 

“You’re Magic Touch Vito?” Mick asks, voice having taken on a strange quality she couldn’t quite identify, though her lips quirk into the barest smile, even as the other three clutch at each other, trying to muffle their laughs at their own dirty-minded implications.

“The very same,” Lola gave a slight nod, and suddenly, there was something impressed in Mick’s eyes. After touring with them, KISS had kindly written a song entitled Magic Touch, about Lola, which as the line ‘she's got the magic touch / oh no, but it ain't what it seems’ implied, wasn’t sexual in nature. In actual fact, it was about how they hadn’t realised how much she’d worked to make their lives run smoothly, to keep them from any serious controversy, how they’d seemingly worked more cohesively and agreeably when she had been around, until she was gone. When asked who it was about, the band would always answer ‘the chick from our management team last tour, Vito’.

They don’t quite know what to make of her, think she’s too uptight, too serious, and they invite her to their gig the following night, in an attempt to see if she could loosen up, fit in, and Lola accepts easily, knowing she has Mick on her side, and that the other three should be easy enough to win over, if what she knows of them is correct.

So she dresses up for the show, clothes tight and dark and revealing, boots high and hair higher, makeup dark and smoky and eye catching; if nothing else, she looks the part. She sits by the bar, nurses a single beer all night, and at least Doc wasn’t kidding about their talent; small miracles, she supposes. They’re loud and energetic and everything about rock and roll that she has come to love, but once the gig is over, they’re messy, spilling off the stage after their gear is packed up, easily distracted by pretty girls and promises of booze. Mick is the first to the bar, and seems surprised to see her dressed the way she is, fitting in so easily, and she gives him a smile, a nod, a raised glass of appreciation, before someone stumbles from the crowd and almost runs straight into her, bracing themselves on the bar either side of her, sweaty and panting and grinning and babbling apologies - Tommy, if her memory serves her well. 

“Hey, Doc was right, you guys play well,” she tells him amicably, tone much sweeter and more animated than he’d heard yesterday, so it takes him a few moments to place where he knows her from before it dawns on him. And he’s drunk and tactile, his hands on her arms, her thighs, her face, as if making sure she was real, and she was the same girl from yesterday.

“Vito?” Tommy asks, still only inches from her where he’d almost bowled into her. Lola, seemingly unphased by the proximity, smile and confirms as much, her hand coming to rest on his where he was braced against her thigh, gentle contact, nothing more. 

And he’s telling her she’d gotta come back to the after party, at the Motley House as he called it, and he turned, wanting to call the others over, still with his hand on her thigh, but they’re lost in their own various states of debauchery. Lola buys him a few shots for good measure, which he’s grateful for, and lets him loop his arm around her shoulders as they head back to the Motley House with the crowd. 

Another pretty girl, however, calls Tommy away with promises Lola definitely won’t make, so he goes, and Lola follows the crowd back to the house with the door nailed shut. Her fishnets catch on something as she’s climbing through the window and they rip, and a guy hoots appreciate from inside the house, but she’s not bothered by him as much as she is by the house itself as she takes in the scene. 

“No shame in admitting you can’t hack it,” a voice in her ear mutters, accompanied by a hand on her hip, and for a moment Lola’s composure breaks as she’s startled, turning sharply to see Nikki Sixx, standing over her in his platform boots and stupidly tall hair, wearing a grin that’s all teeth. Lola doesn’t know enough about Nikki to read him, to understand him, apart from the fact that she recognises that he’d putting up something of a front, and had been both times he’d spoken to her. 

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” tone cool as she finds herself quoting Star Wars with a smirk, she looks Nikki in the eyes, and is glad to see the momentary flicker of confusion as she refuses to back down despite his goading. Then, she looks over her shoulder, “you live like rats, but that’s not necessarily a complaint since it fits with your brand.” And he doesn’t seem to know if that’s a compliment or an insult, but he’s left bemused by the encounter, as Lola heads through to the kitchen, avoiding making eye contact with Vince who’s getting head from a groupie on the counter, as she takes a beer from their fridge and goes to mill about in the main room. 

Lola’s never been much of a drinker; Irene’s been sober since she was pregnant with Lola, and Leo only ever drank socially outside of work, and he didn’t exactly have a lot of social encounters outside of work to begin with. Lola herself was never particularly discouraged from drinking as long as she took care of herself, and sure she had some wild nights in college, but despite her field of work, she preferred to keep drinking to a minimum. Drinking dulled her senses, and she didn’t want the people she was working with to see her as anything less than what she wanted to show them. 

She’d be the first to admit that she had issues with control, both of herself and other people, but it was yet to detrimentally effect her life, or the people around her, so she found it to be more of a strength than a flaw, at least for now. 

All through the night she found herself talking to fans and groupies, talking up the band, the boys, putting on a bubbly persona, perhaps overplaying her own inebriation after only two drinks, giggling and making a spot for herself amongst their groupies. She declined the drugs as they were passed around, keeping her mind clear as she was able, while not being a buzzkill, pouting and making up excuses about a drug test at her work the next morning, how she’d only just gotten the coke out of her system and she couldn’t fail another one - 

Everyone was so understanding of her fake sob story, she almost misses Mick, sitting a few feet away on the arm of the sofa, laughing to himself, watching her. 

“You’re good, girlie, you’re good,” he gives her when she approaches, and Lola raises an eyebrow at him, still smiling, “you planning on outright fuckin’ our frontman, or you gonna tease him like you did the drummer?”

“If I have to fuck him, I’ll fuck him,” Lola shrugs with a smirk, joining him and looking out at the gathered crowd, “but I don’t think it’ll come to that.”

So the next day when she calls her mother, tells her mother that the band lives like rats and that she hates them, she immediately follows it up with ‘but I think I’m going to stay’.

----

Be sweet to Tommy. Be honest with Mick. Keep Vince’s revolving door of girlfriends from seeing him hook up with groupies. That’s the trick to keeping three quarters of the band happy. 

Nikki changes from moment to moment it seems. He’s a hard worker musically, but a loose canon in the rest of his life, and he never seems to be sure of what to make of Lola, so she can never be sure of what to make of him.

She still lives loosely by her mother’s suggestion, to never let them touch her, which means she’s never done anything more than let the three younger ones cop a feel occasionally, or kiss them on the cheek, but she’s never let them get further than that, she doesn’t need to. She’s kind to them, good to them, she compliments their music and their work ethic when they’re working particularly hard. She remembers the names of the hookers they like when Zutaut brings them in, and she gets on well with the rest of their team. Their scandals are kept out of the papers, and when they release Too Fast For Love there’s buzz in the industry from the moment it drops. 

“I know a guy,” is all Lola says when they ask, when in reality she spends nights that she’s not with the band going to VIP events for music executives, rubbing elbows and kissing ass and casually talking up the band within earshot of the bigwigs. Her free time in the day is spent reading tabloids and listening to the bands being managed by the people she meets, and making friends with club owners up and down The Strip who she’d met before, through KISS or Joan Jett.

“Sweet baby Vito,” Doug Weston kissed Lola on both cheeks as she walked through the doors of the Troubadour one sunny afternoon, the day the band was set to perform, “it’s been too long; have you gotten taller?” Doug smiles from ear to ear, holding her shoulders and looking her over as the band, behind her, seems bemused, “how are my boys, Bill and Kenny? You hear from them much anymore?”

“Dad tells me Bill is good -” Lola assures with a smile, before looking over her shoulder, “boys if you wanna start setting up you can go ahead, right Doug?” She grins at the club owner, who nods, gesturing to the stage for Motley and their roadie to go ahead as he takes Lola and leads her to the bar. 

Lola seems to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of the bands who have come through the Troubadour before they’d made it big, praising Doug on his foresight, assuring him that Motley would be one of the names on that list he helped grow in popularity. He asks her how she knows so much, how she remembers so well; simply put, Lola tells him it’s her job. 

For a moment, Doug is quiet, looking at her, his eyes searching her face for any hint of insincerity or doubt, and upon finding none, he gives a strange little smile. 

“You know what they say about me, little Vito, don’t you?” 

Lola hesitates, because of course she knows, and him so pointedly using her nickname only makes clearer his meaning.

“You’re essentially the Godfather around here, Doug, I know that, I wasn’t trying to -”

“You’re putting the work in; I’ve heard your name time and again now from my friends and colleagues, you’re working with one band but the whole Strip knows you, kiddo,” he’s giving her a fond, perhaps even impressed look, “little Vito, you’re so young, but I can already see you growing into your title.” 

And pride swells in Lola’s chest as she hears this. 

A week later, a tabloid article will be released with an article on Motley Crue’s quick rise in sucess, with a quote from Doug himself.

“How could I say no to having them play here? Those boys have got more talent in one hand than any do in their whole bodies, not to mention they’ve got Doc and The Godfather behind them; mark my words there’s success on their horizon.” 

“Lola!” Leo had shouted excitedly through the phone the moment she’d picked up, and Lola had laughed nervously, unsure of the exactly reason for his call. Leo had babbled about seeing the article, how he’d pinned it up on the wall of the diner, right next to the photos of KISS, and Joan Jett that had been taken when they’d visited. He goes on in delight about how he and Irene were so proud; Lola couldn’t help but tear up. 

“Doug Weston called you The Godfather, Lola!” 

“I know, dad,” Lola had laughed a little, and Leo had whistled through his teeth, low and proud.

“What did I tell you, kiddo, already taking the world by storm.”

----

“You know how I was... I was like having trouble with Nikki? Like I could figure him out?” Lola brings up over the phone to her father, a few month into being in LA.

“Nikki’s the asshole one?”

“The asshole one, the one you’d like,” Lola clarifies and confirms, and Leo makes an understanding noise in the back of his throat, “I think... I think I’ve figured him out, I think I got him.”

“How so?”

“He, um,” Lola hesitates for a moment, shifting a little where she was sitting on her bed, “he’s actually kind of like me, which I think tripped me up, not like, as refined or anything, or as invested in people, but,” she can’t help but softly smile, “he just wants to be seen, you know, as a musician, as himself, except that things have been shitty for him so he’s actually scared to feel seen, you know?”

“So are you going to make him feel seen, or would that scare him?” Leo asks, and Lola tells him that she’s going to be careful, like she’s always been.

She’s already started; a few days before, she’d turned up to the studio only for a beleaguered assistant to nervously warn her that Nikki had been in there all night, drinking, snorting, and writing music frantically.

“Sixx?” Her voice had been quiet, and he’d looked up with wild, tired eyes, levelling a pen at her through the glass into the sound booth where she’d entered.

“You!” 

“Me?” She gave a slight smile, despite how there was paper and broken glass everywhere, and one of his hands was bleeding. 

“You!” He’d reiterated with a scowl, though Lola kept her approach slow, opening the door to the recording studio, carefully picking her way over to him, while he continued to point at her. 

“What are you writing?” She asks carefully, and finally he looks down, to the page with it’s bloody fingerprints, and messy scribblings. 

“What do you want from me?” He asked, and she’s wondering if he’s talking to the page before he looks back at her, confused and hostile as he regards her. Lola’s expression falls.

“Right now? I want you to come to the bathroom so I can clean you up and get you some medical attention -”

“You want something you always want something, you know too much about everyone we meet, everywhere we play, every photographer who shoots us, every writer who writes about us, every interviewer we speak to,” he sounds half-mad, but Lola’s blood has run cold, “it’s like the more you know about everyone, about us, you can predict us, can plan for if we go rogue, how you can lasso us back in line like we’re your cattle; you’re The Godfather but you never explained to us what that means.”

Lola swallows hard, steeling herself for a moment before she looks Nikki in the eyes.

“What do you want from music?” She’s dropped the kindly voice, “you understand it, you understand how to make it sound good, how to make something people will like and want to listen to, and you know what to do to keep it from being a disaster because you know the note before, and what notes should go after,” she explained, and in the face of her cool composure, Nikki’s hostility was actually... disappearing. “To me, people are their own kind of music when organised well enough, when I know where they’ve been, so I know how to keep them out of disaster, which topics not to talk about, to know what’s worked to bring things to their attention in the past, so I can use those for you guys in the future.” 

Nikki is quiet, looking up at where she’s standing over him, and then at the paper in his hands. 

“You’re organising us to... to what?”

“To optimise productivity,” Lola said bluntly, “which is hard, considering who you all are, but I’m glad Doc called me in. I feed your egos in the way you all respond to best, and keep you all from self destructing, and I pull you assholes from the gutter, and you get a successful album. I’m not hurting anyone, it’s my job to make you successful.”

She’s got her hands behind her back to hide how they’re shaking; she’s never been so bluntly honest with anyone since she’d explained her Prom Plan to her parents years ago. 

“You won’t remember this,” she tells him, and he looks sharply at her, though she’s saying it more for her own peace of mind than for him. She offers her hand to him, and he quietly takes it, lets her take him to the bathroom and clean him up. She calls the Motley House, and Mick, and Doc, and lets them know that Nikki wouldn’t be in today, and she takes him back to her little apartment a few blocks from the Strip.

“This is tiny,” Nikki comments, his first since Lola’s monologue about her true intentions.

“I’m frugal,” Lola responded, flatly, showing him through to her bathroom, advising him to shower or bathe, though he made a face at that.

“Why am I here?”

“Because I have actual toilet paper and I didn’t want your hands to contract sepsis,” she responds with irritation, but soon enough, as she’s reading through the stack of tabloids that she has delivered daily, she hears the shower being turned on. 

After an hour, she realises something may be wrong, as she hasn’t heard him moving about in there for a while, and when she knocks there’s no answer, and cracking the door reveals that he’s fallen asleep sitting at the bottom of her shower. Sighing deeply, Lola turns off the water, tries to wake him, and gets a sleepy, groaned response, which at the very least means she doesn’t need to call a paramedic. So she dries him off, and wraps him up in her bathrobe, and deposits him in her bed, while she listens to the radio and takes notes while reading the tabloids. 

“Vito?” Nikki’s bleary voice greets her around sunset, and Lola, who’d been painting her nails and humming along to a cassette of the latest Queen album, looks up sharply at him. When their gazes meet, he regards her curiously before yawning, “I remember, you know?”

“Remember what?”

“What you said, how you use people because they’re like music,” he says, and grimaces when he tries to use his hands, only to see they’re bandaged. When he asks for a drink, Lola has to tell him she has nothing in the apartment, and he calls her a bitch under his breath, but that was to be expected.

“I don’t use people for fun, I... I...”

“There’s no sweet way to say it, is there?” He sits up with a groan, though he still manages to smirk, and Lola’s expression sours.

“Are you mad at me for manipulating people in the industry to make Motley Crue successful?” Her lip curled, tone derisive as an insult sat on the tip of her tongue, but Nikki paused.

“Are you trying to manipulate me by saying that?”

“What? No!” Lola had insisted, “everyone else thinks I’m the version of me that I want them to know, okay? But you... you’re the only motherfucker who knows I’m all of them at once, and also, well, none of them,” she admitted after a moment.

“Well how does me knowing that help you?”

“It doesn’t, okay?! I can’t figure you out, Nikki, I don’t know how the fuck to -”

“How the fuck to control me,” Nikki said, seemingly proud of that achievement.

“I don’t control you dumbasses, I keep you out of jail; if I wanted to control you, I’d try keeping you from hookers and drugs and falling asleep in gutters, I’d make you presentable for a mass-market audience, but none of you want that, so I’m trying to keep you alive and keep you productive while still being yourselves, get it?”

“You really want Motley to do well?” Nikki asks, tentatively, surprising Lola, who had her head in her hands.

“You fuckin’ dickbags have so much talent and absolutely no ability to function as human beings. Yes I want you to do well, I know you can, and I know you will, but dude, if you all go out in a firey ball of carnage, they’re not gonna blame you guys, because you’re the talent, live fast die young is what talent does, and they’re not gonna blame Doc,” her voice catches in her throat, and Nikki realises she’s on the verge of tears, “they’re gonna blame the twenty-three year old girl who everyone in the industry knows, and is calling The Godfather, who has a reputation despite only doing this shit for a few years -” 

“Vito -”

“My name’s Lola!” She’d snapped, and Nikki had gone quiet. “You’re a talented musician, Nikki,” her voice had gone soft, and she gently thumped her forehead on the table, “you’re all talented men, I’m just doing the only thing I can do to get you the success you deserve, okay? I made a promise to never manipulate people for evil, and I don’t break my promises.” 

After a long silence, Nikki finally spoke up, saying her name, her real name.

“Lola, thanks for taking care of me.”

----

“So this is Motley Crue,” Leo says the day Lola walks into the diner with the band and Doc, and Leo’s trying to reign in his instinct to be excited and proud and loud, trying to act discerning from behind the counter... Right as their Too Fast For Love album begins playing over the jukebox. The band seems confused, Lola hangs her head, and Leo’s lips immediately twist into an overjoyed grin, “that wasn’t planned but I love it!” He delights, and goes over to greet the band, giving each member a hearty handshake, managing to name each and every single one of them before they introduce themselves, which only serves to mortify Lola.

“You talk about us?” Tommy teases, while Lola’s standing by her father, face bright red. 

“Drummer Boy, you’re killing me,” Lola groans, but takes her seat beside Nikki, and he throws an arm around her.

“Don’t worry, Leo, we’re taking care of her,” and he gives Lola’s shoulder a squeeze. 

The thing is, Leo knows he can believe Nikki, knows because after a year, Lola’s told her parents practically everything about the band, every terrible, sordid detail, but also about their talent, and how they can be good people when they want to be. Leo and Irene have hear the change in the way Lola spoke about the band, heard Lola marvel at the way the band seemed to grow more protective of her after her breakdown in front of Nikki, how they defend her when they’re in their right mind, and at least attempt to listen to her some of the time. They’re still themselves, still far from perfect, but it’s become a known fact that The Godfather had the might of Motley Crue behind her now. 

Mick and Leo got along well, of course Leo got along with all the band well, but he and Mick’s taste in music aligned, and there was a certain wisdom to the pair of them that eluded the others. 

And when Lola hands tickets to the band’s show the following night to her mother, she assured her that it wasn’t their idea, it was all Lola’s. Irene wraps her in a tight hug, pride in her eyes, before she looks over at the band, louging in a booth like they own it while the diner was meant to have closed twenty minutes ago, and Leo’s still talking to them. It’s empty apart from the band, and Lola’s about to start washing up so her dad can keep getting to know the band, but her mother speaks quietly.

“They’re good boys,” she muses, and Lola snorts.

“They’re garbage boys, ma, pretty terrible, you know they fucked an eggroll so their girlfriends couldn’t tell they slept with other girls?”

“Oh I know they’re terrible - eggroll, really? -” Irene made a momentarily horrified face as Lola confirmed, but as a shiver of disgust passed down Irene’s spine, she continued, “but they’re good to you.”

And looking at them, Lola sees the band and Doc smiling and laughing and chatting with her dad, picking at the crumbs they had left of the food they’d been served, and for a moment, Nikki looks over and catches her gaze. He raises an eyebrow at her, a silent question; Lola gives the barest nod back, and he turns back to the conversation. 

“They’re pretty good to me when they want to be,” Lola agreed.

----

“Lo, we wanted to run this past you first,” immediately hearing these words from her father, Lola’s stomach drops, “but you remember your Aunt Malia who lives back in Hawaii, right?” And as Lola confirmed as much, Leo went on, “her youngest, Kai, is going to come and live at the diner; he’s about your age and Malia says he’s wanted to be a chef for a long time. I thought he could come work with us, or maybe stay here if he wanted to study in the states.”

“Why do you need to run it past me?” Lola asked, voice quiet, though her heart eased considerably; the news had been much less dire than she had been anticipating. 

“He’s going to be sleeping in your old room is all, I know you’ve moved everything out, but I didn’t want you to be surprised if you dropped in; when you stop by, we’ve converted the old study into a spare bedroom.”

“Okay,” Lola wasn’t quite sure why the news hurt so much, but it did, though she tried not to let her father hear as much, “as long as he does a good job, that’s all we can ask for, right?” And Leo seemed happy to hear as much.

But it had sent Lola spiralling; all her life she’d thought she’d end up running the diner when she got old enough, but now she was getting to be old enough, and living a completely different life.

“Would it make you happy?” When had coming to Nikki Sixx for life advice become a real option? They’re sitting in a round booth at a bar, both dressed casually, sitting side by side, probably closer than was necessary, though Lola liked the contact.

“Yes,” she admitted, “if I went home and ran the diner with mom and dad for the rest of my life, I’d honestly be happy.” She admitted.

“And us, the industry, everything you’ve been working for, you’d give it all up for them?” He asked, and Lola picked at the label on her beer bottle, stomach twisting with guilt.

“If they asked,” came her answer.

“Did they ask?”

Lola swallows hard, and realises with startling clarity that Nikki knows where her train of thought is headed. 

“Does the life you have here make you happy?” He asks, tone demanding an honest answer, and Lola nods once, before his final question hits her squarely in the chest; “would they want you to give up this happiness you’ve built, the experiences you’re still yet to have, for them?”

He understands her. 

“And if I asked, would you stay here and manage us?” 

“What?” Lola’s voice came out soft and surprised as she looked to Nikki, her eyes wide, and a little misty with all the emotions and thoughts blurring together in her mind. 

“If I get any sort of say or vote in this, I’d like to keep The Godfather on my team,” he muses, grin getting a little wider, tone a little more honest, “‘d like to keep you around, Lola.”

----

Kai vaults the counter the first time Lola walks into the diner after he arrives. It’s been a few months, Lola’s been overseas with the band, but she’s back, and had wanted to stop in home to see how he was going. They’d spoken often; he’s as kind and outgoing as her father, and seems just as enthusiastic about food, which is good. At first there had been jealousy, that he was there, while she couldn’t be, but her parents always assured her there was a place for her if she wanted it, if she wanted to come back.

But Nikki had been right, they wanted her to see the world, so long as she knew they’d always be there for her to come home to. 

But it’s Summer, Saturday afternoon, and Kai looks up as the bell rings, spots Lola, and drops the napkin dispenser he’d been refilling, vaulting the counter to sweep her off her feet in a hug. He’s chattering away about how good it is to meet her, how people keep saying the Godfather sent them and how it’s weird knowing they mean her, about how a few more bands had come through, without Lola even, word of mouth having spread that this was the place to come to in Boston, and he gestures proudly to the wall of photographs, and how more had been added; Areosmith, the Pixies, Blondie.

“And you! You’re -” suddenly spotting the person who’d come in behind Lola, Kai’s eyes go wide and his words stop for a moment. 

“Nikki Sixx, man, good to meet you,” Nikki grins brightly, “Kai, right?” And Kai nods, before blinking away his shock and nodding, shaking Nikki’s hand vigerously. 

“Good to meet you, dude, lemme go get Aunty; Leo’s at the markets,” he says, and then he trots off, calling out to the kitchen staff where he was headed. The moment he’s disappeared up the stairs to the flat above, Lola leans into Nikki, huffing a laugh.

“God, he fits right in,” she muses fondly, and Nikki wraps an arm around her, himself trying to process Kai’s enthusiasm. 

And Irene greets Nikki and Lola with warmth and excitement, the three of them sitting in a booth together while Kai goes through any changes to the menu, lighting up when Lola asks what he recommends. Nikki and Lola sit close as they chatter away, recounting stories to Irene about their travels, words flowing together like they were rehearsed; as Lola’s overcome with a fit of giggles recounting one of Nikki and Tommy’s stunts, Nikki wraps his arm around her, pulling her close as he seamlessly takes over the story, grinning from ear to ear. As Lola’s giggles subside, she looks back to her mother, and Nikki’s voice goes quiet as Lola takes back over telling the story, instinctually in sync, and oh, Irene realises fondly, they understand each other. Despite everything she’s heard about the band, about Nikki, she’s filled with an indescribably sense of calm knowing Nikki made Lola this happy, made her feel understood. She’d be here if he broke Lola’s heart, but until then, she’d be happy for them. 

“Lola!” It’s Leo’s voice that interupts them, and instinctively Irene reminds him that he’s holding eggs, without even needing to look at him. When they all do, they see Kai handing Leo an empty, plastic fries basket for him to drop in surprise instead, and he does so, which makes Lola laugh, even though she’s tearing up at the sight of him.

Nikki relaxes his grip on her shoulders without her needing to ask, and she ran to Leo, jumping to wrap him in a koala hug as he anticipated as much, holding her tight. 

“If you guys ever wanted her back here to stay, you know she’d be more than happy to do it, I don’t know how you guys did it, but she loves you more than anything else in the whole world,” Nikki says quietly to Irene, the pair of them watching Lola and Leo, still hugging, with Lola koala-ed onto her father, talking to each other.

“She’s lucky to have Leo,” Irene said softly, “and so am I,” she admits easily, with a smile, “we both just wanted to give her the world, and if that, for her, means taking over the diner, then she’ll always have a place here, but if she wants more than that, if for her the world is the world, we’ll do everything in our power to help her get it,” she paused, before her smile turns amused; the expression looks so much like Lola’s, “but I suspect she doesn’t need our help with that.”

“And Nikki,” Irene turns to him, to look him in the eyes, and he knows that she knows every terrible thing Lola knows about him, but the thing is, he trusts Lola, and Lola loves and trusts her parents more than anything in the world, so if she’s trusted them with his dirty laundry and they still treat him kindly, he knows he has nothing to fear, “as long as you love her and treat her well, you’ll have us in your corner too.”

----

In 2005, it seems as though everyone in the entertainment industry knows about Boston’s famous Lionheart Diner, renamed in the mid-90s to coincide with the official forming of Lionheart Talent Management in LA, a label that would develop a reputation for finding talented underground acts, and making them huge. 

Over the years, it had become a tradition for touring rock groups to visit the diner, claiming The Godfather sent them, even if Lola had never interacted with the band. As time wore on, bands outside of the rock genre caught on to the tradition, and soon even those from film or television or even art had joined the tradition too. 

The business was booming, it had become a spot for tourists to come take photos against the wall of famous band photos, and people would often stop by on the off chance that someone famous would be around. They’d invested in selling shirts, plain black with the Lionheart logo over the left breast, and the word ‘crew’ printed in all capitals in white across the back. 

The heart of the business remained, with Leo, seventy-one and still spry, as Sous Chef, while Kai had stepped up as head chef. One of the benefits of being part-owned by a successful management company was that Irene was able to retire, as Lola’s in-house accountants took care of the diner’s finances, and her little sixty-nine year-old mother could spend her time relaxing, or playing with her grandchildren. 

In 2005, Lola went home in anticipation of a letter she hoped her parents would be receiving, taking Nikki, their son, and her entire rolodex of industry contacts with her.

In 2005, Lola and her family are awoken by a legitimate yell sounding through the little flat above the diner; it’s Leo, he’s excited and nervous and panicking, and Lola’s rubbing sleep from her eyes as she finds him, alongside her mother, sitting at the kitchen table, looking at a pristine, off-white envelope. 

“We should wait for Kai, we have to call him, we have to call him now,” Leo’s chattering away, already up, and when Lola sits at the table, Irene hands her the bulky envelope before she even has to ask. 

The return address was the Michelin Offices in Paris. 

Lola’s smile grows wider.

The kitchen is eerily silent, apart from Lola’s son Mal moving about the kitchen, making himself cereal, as all the adults wait quietly for Kai to arrive with his own wife and baby daughters.

“I heard they were... were coming to America, but I thought it was only New York,” Leo looked so much younger for his nervous excitement, and once Kai had sat down and realised what it was, Lola pushed the envelope towards her father.

With shaking hands, Leo opens the letter, he and Kai reading the congratulations that had been sent to them, the praise for their food, their plating, their atmosphere and service. Leo’s crying, his hand pressed to his mouth, he’s crying, and Lola can feel the tears in her eyes too. 

“They gave us two stars,” he chokes out, pride in his voice, “two whole Michelin Stars, the only restaurant outside of New York,” he’s sniffling as he lets Kai take the letter, pulling the book from the package, thumbing through it, and bursting into tears, the book in a white-knuckled grip as a lifetime of work is finally granted the recognition it deserved. 

“Two stars; excellent cooking, worth a detour,” Kai was crying too, his pride overwhelming him, and it seemed, all other at the table, aside from Nikki, and Kai’s wife Julia. 

Lola spends the next week organising a party, calling everyone and anyone to invite them to Leo’s, promising her father the night off to celebrate, but he waved her off, so long as she would work by his side for the night. Of course she agreed. 

It was a star-studded event, surprising the locals, with Lola calling her contacts who loved the restaurant, and Leo and Irene and Kai calling old regulars they wanted to celebrate with, everyone who heard the news was delighted, knew it was well earned, and cheered as Leo unveiled the new sign with the Michelin Stars on full display. 

“Thirty years ago,” Lola makes a toast, and the room falls silent, all looking at her on this night of mirth and merry, on this night of celebrating Leo and Irene and their family and their staff, “I claimed that the Michelin Star Inspectors were classicist, bitch-ass jagweeds, who hadn’t given the diner a star because they couldn’t even be bothered making the detour it was worth,” and that got a laugh to rise from the crowd, while Leo’s surprised Lola remembers that, hell, he’s surprised he remembers that, “but they’ve finally come to America; they said they were coming to New York, but you know what- you know fucking what? They made the detour! Because they’d heard this place was worth it! They knew what my parents built, what everyone here still upholds, it’s world class, it’s excellent cooking, it’s worth the detour!” And a cheer rises from the crowd, just as the diner deserves. 

But something about it sticks for Leo, something about it is familiar, perhaps it’s just the way Lola’s smiling, but he asks for a word with her, and she agrees easily. She’s not his little girl anymore, neither of them as young as they once were, but they sit on the back step of the diner, the door shut, the celebrations inside muffled.

After a long while, Leo looks to Lola and gives her a fond little smile.

“I’ve really raised a supervillain, haven’t I?” And Lola acts confused for all of two minutes before she gives up the ruse, grinning like she’d been caught red-handed.

“Hey, if this place didn’t deserve any Michelin Stars, it wouldn’t get any; I just wanted to get the word out there so people would know where to look,” she shrugged, and Leo threw an arm around her, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“How long were you planning this?”

“That day in the diner when we talked about my future, and I said this place deserved a Michelin Star,” she admitted, and Leo’s eyes went wide, realising just why she’d remembered that day so well during her speech.

“Your thirty year plan?”

“I didn’t know when they’d come to America, honestly I think you guys would have still had enough notoriety to warrant someone coming to check this place out fifteen years ago,” she mused, “but like I said, it’s because this is a good diner, dad, I only brought it to their attention.”

“Lola, this is you life -” he tried with concern, though Lola rested her head on his shoulder, cutting him off with reassurances.

“I love my job, I love the life that I have, and the people in it, and it just so happened that the thing that I’m good at and do professionally means I have some influence; I promised I’d only use my powers for good, and this is the good-est thing I could think of,” she ducks her head, to hide her teary eyes, so glad that finally her family, her father, got their deserved recognition. 

“All for your lil’ old family,” Leo gave a watery chuckle, overwhelmed with pride.

“All for my lil’ old family,” Lola agreed, sniffling, and Leo pulled her into a tight hug, so Lola’s next words were muffled against his chest, “come on, dude, be cool.”

“You made the whole world love us because how much you love us, I will not be cool,” Leo held her tighter, and Lola laughed softly, wanting this moment to last forever if it could, “you were never a supervillain, sweet girl, you’ve always been my hero.”

[loves124]

Neighbors ch. 2

If there are any errors or mistakes please don’t hesitate to let me know :)

Also don’t hesitate to give me some fresh ideas

Thank you,

Love you,

Enjoy!

(Shouta Aizawa x fem!reader)

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

I hadn't spoken to my neighbor in a while since the night I got locked out of my own apartment. It's not that I didn't want to; trust me, I wanted to. He gave me a sense of peace when I talked with him. He focused on the details of all of my words as if they were the last words I would ever say. He made me feel as if I were actually important.

I want to see him again. I also am a little terrified of seeing him again. The end of that night felt so... intimate. I am really attracted to this man; it's not even funny. I don't want to go through the pain of rejection or abandonment again. I had already gone through that with a previous boyfriend.

I had given him everything—all of my time, my love, my adoration. I did everything for him. I wanted to live my life just for him, but all of my efforts were just met with a disappointing ending. He was my first for many things, and I wanted him to be my last.

I don't know if I could handle that same look of disgust on Aizawa's face when it came to me. I didn't want to throw my life away for another guy. If anything, I should stick to being friends with him. Nothing more.

That doesn't mean I can't imagine all of the things he could do to me.

I know. It sounds creepy. I mean, but come on, how could I not?

Aizawa filled my head for the next couple of days. I was surprised to have not seen him even once, especially when he is my neighbor. I don't want to get attached to him, but it wouldn't hurt for me to stop by with some treats, right? It's the neighborly thing to do. Right? Right.

I decided that I was going to make a strawberry cake. I just hope that Aizawa is a fan of strawberries. If he isn't, I'll call him psychopath for not finding them absolutely delicious, and then I'll retreat to my room and wallow in shame and embarrassment.

On my way home from work, I run to the store to grab the ingredients that I need for the cake. I take a quick look in the "Tea & Coffee" aisle to see what they have to offer. 'Maybe Aizawa would like a nice calming tea with the cake?' I take a look at all of the options labeled and decided to buy both peppermint and rose teas. The rose tea will pair well with the strawberry cake, and the peppermint can be another gift for him. I remember reading something about how peppermint tea is good for fatigue and stress. Aizawa looks like he needs something that would help in that area.

Once I get back home, I immediately start on my work. I was trying my hardest to follow the recipe to the last letter and attempting to finish the cake before it got too late.

It looks alright, my frosting skills are in room for improvement, but the taste is immaculate. I go and grab two slices of cake and the teas, giving myself a quick pep talk outside of the door to prepare.

You are just being a good neighbor. You aren't going to eat all of this cake by yourself, right? No. This cake deserves to be shared with someone, right? Correct. So it is perfectly okay for you to stop by and offer some cake.

I raise my hand and give a quick couple of knocks on the door. And my heartbeat starts to pick up more.

Shit. We still have time. We can run for it. I look over to your apartment door. I can make that in a couple of seconds. Yeah, I can make that. Aizawa will just think it was some stupid ding-dong-ditchers. Okay, run-

Before you even have another thought, the sound of the door unlocking and opening interrupts. It opens to reveal my neighbor himself. He is wearing black slacks, a button-up shirt, and he loosened the tie that was one tight around his collar but is now lazily draped on his chest.

He looks more delicious than that stupid cake you made. Shit, the cake. I haven't talked since he opened the door. Talk idiot.

"Hey! um... sorry, I just made some cake and had no one to share it with, so I thought I would bring some um some over." I feel so intimidated by him. Why does he have to be so hot? It feels like it should be illegal.

He smirks down at me, probably because I look like a hot mess right now.

"You don't have to accept, by the way, I totally understand-" I get cut off.

"Cake sounds amazing right now," he truthfully tells you. "I will say, though, I was just winding down. Would you mind waiting a bit for me? I just have to take a shower and get changed."

"Oh yeah, sure, I can wait a bit" I smile. I get ready to pivot on my feet and head back to my apartment, but he invites me inside. Oh. He meant to wait in his apartment.

I slowly make my way inside, asking permission to use his kitchen to make tea. As I prep the tea, I can hear the shower run.

My thoughts go wild.

That hot hunk of a man is naked and wet behind the wall right next to you, and you are here making tea for him.

Life is crazy.

I wish life was a little crazier and would let me see those washboard abs of his. Bet I could grate cheese on them motherfuckers, hot damn.

I take a look through his cabinets and find the two mugs that we both used the last time I was here. Deciding to use them once again. I fiddle with the rim of the mug as I wait for him to get out of the shower.

"Sorry, did I take too long?"

My head turns to see him walking through the doorway. He looks a little more in his element, being in a white T-shirt and baggy sweatpants—steam radiating off of him.

Dear Lord...

I choke out a quick reply and avoid eye contact. "No, you're all good."

"You didn't have to wait for me, you know?" he says while pulling out a chair next to you by the counter.

I smile as I take a sip of the rose tea. "Food always tastes better when the other person is eating with you."

"cute," he mumbles, and I can feel my face flush red. He takes his first bite, and I can't help but stare in anticipation. I feel relieved when he gives an approving "Mmm" sound and goes in for another bite.

I finally release that breath that I didn't even know I was holding and follow his actions by taking a bite of my own. It's a comfortable silence between us both, and I start to find myself less intimidated and more at ease.

Conversation strikes again once we both finished.

"It's been a little while since I last saw you. Have your days been getting better?" he questions, grasping both of my empty plates and bringing them over to the sink to rinse them off.

I lean back into the chair, pulling the warm mug to my chest before I reply. "Yeah, it's been better. I'm pretty sure that I was just at the breaking point that one day. I'm glad that it's over with." I sigh into the mug.

"Good. I hope that's the end to your breaking and entering as well."

I laugh, "How could I break into my own apartment?"

Turning his head over his shoulder so I can see his smirk, he replies, "I saw you do it before my own eyes. You're a criminal, sorry to break it to you, sweetheart."

Ooh, sweetheart, I like that.

"Whatever," I scoff. "What about you, Mr. Dark and Broody? How has UA been?"

"Oh, it's okay—something new every day. I had a student blow up his desk today after arguing with another student. He seriously has anger issues that need to be handled." he laughs.

"Really that's crazy! What's his quirk?" I'm genuinely curious now.

"His sweat contains nitroglycerin, and he can ignite it on command," he replies.

"Wow, finally, a sweaty prepubescent boy can use his sweat to his advantage" we both laugh. The conversation continues, and I learn more about the students in his class and the tasks given in the day to prep them to become famous heroes.

It takes you a second, but you realize something. "By the way, I never asked you, but what's your quirk Aizawa?"

He leans against the counter, "I can disable other people's quirks by staring at them, but if I blink or can't see them, it won't work."

"That's so cool!" I enthusiastically say. "No wonder you work at that school. Your quirk is so good."

He quickly shifts the conversation from him to me. "What about you (L/N)? What's your quirk?" I guess he isn't the type of person that likes to bask in admiration.

"Oh, it's nothing like yours, but I can manipulate plants. It comes in handy, especially since I like being a plant mom."

"Oh, you like plants?" he asks.

"Like is a bit of an understatement. My home practically resembles a jungle," I laugh. Nerding out a bit, I talk about all of the plants I own and their qualities.

"What's your favorite plant you have?" he asks. He looks so interested in everything I have to say. He leans in close, grasping every word I utter. Questioning the qualities of some plants or asking for the descriptions of them when he can. It makes my chest feel warm inside. It's been a long while since I felt like someone actually listened.

We continued to talk till we both got hit with waves of fatigue. With a yawn and stretch, I get myself up and grab my stuff. He walks me to my door outside my apartment.

"Thanks for having me over again. I really enjoyed talking with you. For someone who is dark and broody, you are pretty easy to talk to. I hope we can do it more often." I have a gentle smile plastered on my face as I gaze up at him.

"Maybe next time we can have tea at your place, you can show me all the plants you were talking about. I'd like to have an image to match a description," he tells me.

I dig through my pocket trying to find my key card, and through my struggle, some strands of hair escape my messy bun. When I successfully find it, I unlock my door and turn to wish him goodnight. I am then met by his hand brushing the stray strands of my hair behind my ear.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," he tells me.

I mumble a quiet "goodnight" back before closing my door and sinking into it, face flushed.

Now how am I going to sleep...

[lunchador]

so when do we get the long post about your feelings about dragon age inquisition!!! i dunno if u wanna wait until dlc or not! i am i n t e r e s t e d (also its ok if u dont feel up to it im just!!!! again, interested in ur opinions/feelings)

kajsldkjf PLEASE I HAVE SO MANY DA FEELINGS ALL THE TIME and Inquisition was twice as long as the others so might as well do a word vomit now and I can always do another after the dlc (which several people have assured me are worth playing )

SO

Yeah so inquisition is long. I dislike open world games so a lot of the (super repetitive!!) side quests did grate on my nerves and that docks this game a few points but over all the LORE IS SO GOOD, and it tying in so many choices in from 1+2 is the greatest butterfly effect I ever experienced in video games. I thought telltale + Until dawn were fun for that but good LORD bioware has showed up all of those games and I am really stoked to try mass effect when its out later and play more bw games. I only played Anthem before this and that game seemed...idk, gutted against BW’s wishes.

ANYWAY

Yeah, I managed to go into the whole DA series knowing very, very little, despite how many artists I followed did fanart for it. Once I started playing, I added all the words I could think of to my blacklist but a lot of untagged stuff came through (fair, series is 10+ years old and inq is like what 4-5?). I allowed my friends to pressure me into playing an elf mage for the lore and to romance solas cuz they said he was as important to the story as alistair was. A lot of online followers said I should play how I wanted, which I def would recommend to anyone else, but honestly I can see where they came from and while he never would have been my first choice, I think he actually paired REALLY well with my Inq and how I was playing her. I put her as sensitive but trying to put her responsibility above herself, she was definitely the least funny of my 3 characters, but not incredibly serious. A bit reserved? Just more mature. She’s got faith but she didn’t think she was the chosen one but she’ll do her role the best of her ability. She makes hard decisions and then sobs her chest empty over them because how is one to ever feel like its the right one? I really like how the game lets you choose how you wanna approach the responsibility. Like i said, I wasn’t a reluctant chosen one, but she will do what she can. Versus my friend playing at the same time as me said he played as the second coming of jesus essentially lmfao Having so many characters come back for different roles was so GOOD!!! Like everyone told me Varric was in this one but were like ‘teehee you still cant romance him though’ but you how you play drastically changes your relationships with each person. Tons of characters I met I knew would be personal favorites but I ended up interacting way less because others were more fitting to my inquisitor. So i.e while I love Varric and would’ve smooched him a heartbeat with Hawke, I didn’t get that vibe with Clover. They were really good friends, he was a grounded friend with a sense of humor that was a good escape from everyone else and the ~inquisition~. At least, until the Beyond the Abyss quest. That obviously heavily fractured their friendship and hurt them both :( And i felt that for a long time, until the end. He looked tired. Poor guy is gonna be borderline dead in 4 at this point. But so many side characters you talk to coming back like Dagna and Samson??? Speaking of that quest, I got Stroud because, yeah...Alistair was dead for me and APPARENTLY IT COULD ALSO BE LOGHAIN??? If he stays a grey warden??  wish I did that so def would’ve preferred to save Hawke even if I think the wardens are more important as a concept but like.......i wanted to behead him, so....But yes even tiny details like..Varric wrote home to kirkwall to Carver for me because the rest of my family was dead and I never completed a full romance in 2 lkajslkdjf but the fact that changes based on your play through. BUT YEAH THE way this game weaves all your decisions in and how yeah, overall the story is the same but it makes it so personal to YOU and so different from everyone else ;w;

But I could see my Inq genuinely falling for Solas, and I see her best friends as Cassandra and Blackwall/Thom. Really close to Leliana and the Iron Bull as well. I just loved all their interactions. All the characters were so cool to get to know?? Like I thought I would’ve hated Cullen (hes a dick in O) and tbh I just got into the series as the VA was being a complete shit. But I liked him a lot!! I love the work buddies vibes between the Inq and the advisors. I thought I was going to love Sera!! And like, I did, but she hated my Inquisitor and their personalities clashed a lot. Shes the only one i didn’t get a cut scene for in the end :’) I loved coming back from story quests and having to take like 20 minutes to go around skyhold and make sure I talked to /everyone/ for their new dialogue. You genuinely feel connected to all these wonderful npcs ljkasljdf

I wanted to make Cassandra the new divine but I made leliana on accident and kinda dug it so I stuck with it. VARRIC IS THE NEW VISCOUNT??? h i l a r i o u s.

One of the things I loved the most in this game in particular, and while this is something in all of them it just really struck me in this one, was....everyone gave up so so much to devote themselves to the cause, y’know?? Like, it’s almost heartbreaking how much everyone loses and they’re still looking towards you with their belief and willingness to follow you to the end ;-;

The final fight almost felt, Idk, underwhelming? Dude dragons are way tougher than him asdkjhfkhjd. I even went up a difficulty in this game after feeling like I got the hang of the series. But at the same time, we just spend how many hours knocking down each and one of his advantages so fuck him lol.

But yeah there are so many things I wanted to do but I felt so worn out by mindless sidequests and story being level locked in comparison to the previous games. askdjhflkd

One of the things that blows my mind is so so many people were stoked i was playing DA and they couldn’t wait til I got to Inq, and so I find out most people I know only ever played Inquisition? TBH if I didn’t play O+2 I think I would’ve dropped inquisition and never finished it *shrug* all of the build up just means SO MUCH!!! Everyones argument seems to be the older games are ugly and yeah O has rough battle system but its easy to get over imo. Like, you need the chaos of 2 to get the real weight of the mage/templar stuff?? Theres so many characters and story and dialogue that go over your head without Origins?? Like yes inq can stand alone pretty well but, idk, I’m in love with this entire series and the world building and THE!! WAY!!! IT!!! ALL!!! CONNECTS!!!!!!!!!!!

I love how a quest can go differently by whos in your party, I love you can have more dialogue based on lore you’ve managed to pick up around, I love HOW COMPANIONS BICKERRRRRRRRRRRR!!!! The lore of these games are so good. It’s like playing an epic line of novels. It’s so immersive and I don’t think I’ve played too many games to this level.

I didn’t like the skill trees to being a mage in this one, Idk why. It wasn’t nearly as fun for me as 2, but then  again I really fucking liked being a force mage haha. I wanted to be a rogue to complete a diff class per game but everyone said mage brings a lot more interesting story/lore stuff so

but yeah I love having the full context now and seeing other peoples Wardens/Hawkes/Inquisitors and asking people how they played and how their options differed from mine and THERES JUST SO MANY POSSIBLE DECISION TREES!!!!! No wonder the fans play over and over.

but yeah ultimately so much fucking happened?? I’m probably missing a lot of key points.

[the-l-spacer]

Safe (Dragon x Defiant hurt/comfort)

ao3 SB

Summary: Based on the fic dialogue prompt "Please just… just hold me"

Takes place a little before Teneral e.3 - Preoccupied with helping Dracheheim, Dragon hasn't had much time to process what had happened to her during Gold Morning. Some hours spent alone changes that, and Colin helps her to deal with the aftermath.

Note: This is my first fanfic for Worm/Parahumans so! Please b nice! Also, I am. Very sorry in advance if this reads as OOC for either Dragon or Defiant, and I'm sorry if I got any canon details wrong oops-

All that said, enjoy some Dragon/Defiant fluff n angst! I heard this fandom isn't big on shipping but hey hope u like it anyways 👉👈

Dragon was fine.

All fine. Tip-top shape. Of perfectly sound body (which went without saying) and mind. She totally wasn’t having one of those bad days, and she definitely wasn’t letting her mind wander to a dark place. To memories of him. After all, there were countless other matters to worry over, weren’t there?

Or at least, that was what she tried to tell herself.

And she wasn’t wrong, at least not completely. In the wake of Scion’s attack, the damage done and the many needs of the few survivors had consumed her every hour. Already, the remaining Capes were being run ragged fighting for resources and dealing with conflicts among their people, simply trying to stay afloat long enough to rebuild. As one of the few capes that required little to no rest, her and Defiant had found themselves scrambling from place to place, trying to help wherever they could.

Did the people in this settlement have enough food? Did this family have enough firewood to last the winter? Would that group of children even live to see their teenage years?

After all was said and done, Dragon never had more than a few minutes of time to herself in a day, and she liked it that way.

Now she sat, in the cabin her and Defiant built together overlooking the village of Dracheheim. Defiant was out repairing their craft, and insisted that she stay inside and rest, the first time she had an hour or more to herself in months.

She had put on some stupid comedy on TV to distract herself, but as she curled up on the couch, she felt her mind wander to places against her will, places she tried so so hard not to go. For with every thought consumed with ensuring humanity’s survival, she didn’t have to think about the time she had spent at his mercy.

At Teacher’s mercy.

She felt a little growl of frustration leave her. Dragon was more than well aware of that old mind trick; if one was told not to think of a pink elephant, one would do just that, instinctively. So she shook her head, once, twice, tred to pay attention to the movie instead of dwelling on events that had happened months ago.

But it was hard. Just as she would begin to lose herself in a plot thread, something small would come up. This time, it was the personality of one of the mentor characters that made her side-slip. His smug mannerisms, his skeeviness rammed images to her mind’s forefront Memories of hands reaching and digging into her brain. Icy fingers forcing neural pathways in directions that just felt wrong. Teacher violating her, leaving her completely helpless under him. Powerless.

When she felt a hand settle on her shoulder, she jerked away, out of the ball she had unconsciously curled into, caught herself on the couch’s edge with her arm.

“Shit!” She swore, craning her head to fix a scowl at the culprit. “Colin, don’t creep up on me like that!”

“Didn’t mean to, sorry.” Like her, Colin was out of his power armour, clad in a heavy jumper and sweatpants to ward off Dracheheim’s chill. “You alright?”

“I’m— wait, let me turn this thing down. I feel ridiculous talking to you with Legally Blonde on— I’m fine.”

“Never watched it,” he remarked, settling on the couch. “But I don’t care about the movie, I’m worried about you.”

Always to the point. It’s one of the things she loved about Colin.

“I know you’ve been telling me you’re ‘fine’, but I somehow find that hard to believe. You’re never caught off your guard like this. Usually, you can sense me coming even when I’m trying to be quiet.” He had positioned himself carefully, close to her, but not so close they were touching, and for that she was grateful.

“Well, I—”

Before she could play her off as nothing more than a faux pas, deflect playfully like she was planning to do, Colin cut her off.

“Something’s bothering you.”

Not phrased as a question, but a statement of fact. For all her boyfriend bemoaned his inability to ‘people’, he was surprisingly perceptive when it came to her. Drat.

“It’s nothing major. And really,” she emphasised, “I’m fine.”

Colin raised an eyebrow.

“... Lately, I haven’t had the time to be anything other than.”

A nod of understanding. “I get that. This has to be, what, the first time you’ve had more than fifteen minutes to yourself in God knows how long.”

“Exactly.” Dragon sighed. “The curse that comes with being a workaholic; I never know what to do with myself when I’m forced to take a break, so… unpleasant thoughts start working their way in.”

Colin stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. Nothing else for it, then. She drew her legs up on the couch, rested her chin on her knees. Softly, she asked the question that had been weighing silently on her ever since Gold Morning, “Colin, do you think it’s possible? To undo what Teacher did to me?”

He frowned, a crease forming on half of his forehead that still remained organic. “You know I’ve b- I’m still trying. In every spare moment that I’ve had--”

“-- not a lot, I know, we’ve both been occupied--”

“--I’ve been staring at your code, making sense of it. I think it is possible, but progress will be… slow. I’m sorry.”

There were moments when she didn’t regret building herself a body as close to a real human as possible, a body that allowed her to touch, feel, taste, and even experience pain. The feather-light touch of snowflakes settling in her hair was some such moments, along with the comforting press of the weighted blanket (that she had gotten Colin as a birthday gift) against her body. But regret was precisely what came at her boyfriend’s statement, as she experienced the thoroughly unpleasant feeling of her stomach dropping, a chill running up her spine.

“I understand.” That was all she could manage, numbly, before falling silent.

Colin got up abruptly, and the empty spot on the couch somehow made things worse.

“No, no. Listen to me. I will figure it out. If it means not eating or sleeping, that can be managed. You know I can optimise my body further. I’ll do everything it takes to free you.”

He was getting worked up, pacing on the carpet before her, but somehow, his words failed to reassure.

“And if you can’t wait that long, I’ll recruit people. Tinkers. Scientists. I’ll keep your identity a secret of course, and with a team, there’ll be a chance of progressing faster, making more progress than I could on my own.”

“Colin.”

“And if that fails, I’ll hunt Teacher down. No hole that motherfucker could hide in would be safe. I’ll force him to undo his own handiwork, and after, I’ll kill him.”

“Colin.”

He stopped pacing, hands flexing as if to wring an imaginary Teacher’s neck. Upon seeing her expression, he deflated.

“I’m talking out of my ass. I’m sorry.”

“No, stop apologising to me. None of this was your fault.” She breathed in, out, regulating her artificial heartbeat, which had gone faster and faster since the start of his indignant tirade. “I just asked because I wanted to know, and I appreciate your honest answer. You seriously don’t need to modify yourself more than you already have on my behalf. You know you’re the only one I trust with my code, and you definitely don’t need to go on a crusade against Teacher just yet, what with the amnesty and all.”

The unspoken but hung in the air.

“But it’s hard,” she said, voice cracking on the last word. “I can’t have a spare moment to myself, can’t even watch a stupid movie without being reminded of him, of what he did to me. Even once you fix my code -- don’t give me that look because you will manage it, somehow-- I don’t think it’ll ever go away.”

She wrapped her arms around her knees, curled into herself.

Colin leaned over, hovering anxiously.

“What should I do, then?” He asked, helpless, “I’m guessing you don’t want me to leave and work on the problem.”

“No!” She blurted out, a tad more forcefully than she intended. Then, quieter, “No. Stay here, please. Just… just hold me.”

She felt him sit back on the couch beside her, felt hands encircle her. She flinched back, ever so slightly, the memory of Teacher’s cold touch almost overwhelming her. His fingers interlocked with hers, assuring her that he was here, that she was with him. She latched on, focused on the callused fingers of his left hand, the cool metal of his right.

Then, she let go. His arms folded around her, and she fell into his embrace.

This was what made having a ‘human’ body worth it; the way she fit against him, her head tucked under his chin, eyes shut tight, as she just breathed.

Teacher didn’t exist. No one else did, outside the both of them, wrapped together on a small couch in their small home.

She was safe.

-

Eventually, they had to break apart. Colin was still human, under all his cybernetic augmentations, and staying locked in one place for too long tended to end with sore muscles.

Instead, they cuddled. Dragon propped her legs up on her boyfriend’s lap, and leaned against his shoulder. In response, Colin reached out, pulling the weighted blanket over the both of them.

After a while, he spoke. “I won’t lie, I can’t promise you that everything will be okay. That I’ll reverse the damage to your code.”

She hugged his arm. “You’re brilliant. I’ll trust you to figure things out.”

She expected some smugness on his part, after that little boost to his ego. Instead, he sighed. “This isn’t false modesty. You know I don’t do that. I… I genuinely don’t know if I’ll succeed with this. Doesn’t mean I won’t try my damndest, though.”

Dragon hummed. “Good enough for me. And in the meantime… keep me grounded, on the bad days?”

“You already do that for me,” he said, a slight smile on his face. “It's about high time I returned the favour.

They kissed once, twice.

A knock on the door.

Colin growled in annoyance. “Don’t suppose it’s not urgent?”

“Mmmmf.”

The knock came again.

“We.. had better go get it. Someone probably needs our help.”

“Probably.” Colin agreed. “Until our next breather?”

She kissed him one last time.

“Until then.”

[ghostofpolaris]

Paid Deity Reading Review from @ad-astrum

This is a review I am doing out of my own will for a paid reading that was done by @ad-astrum ! I highly recommend you check Adelaide’s account out! She just is amazing. <3 Tis long so I am adding a cut-off to help. Please note that I am not being paid to say any of this and I want to be as honest as possible with this review! 

TW for: Long post, Personal Topics

To start, I (for a very long time) have been in a place where I was lost. I have had a lot of trials and tribulations in my life and where I know I have made some contact with the deities I (had) followed and worked with, I know I have not always been able to fully comprehend what is needing to be said. 

At least with these last six years, I have had so many ups and downs and quite a few times, I genuinely wondered what the point was in continuing onward with life. I had spent quite a lot of time even contemplating whether I was truly a “spiritual” person and worthy of being a witch. I hadn’t been able to keep up with my gifts I had been providing and I haven’t really done any spells. Maybe a few sigils were made here and there, but the unworthy feelings I harbored along with depression spiraling in from working 40 hours a week, being in school full time, and my mental and physical health continuing to drag me down. 

So, I got desperate as one does when left to their own devices after being paid a nice juicy paycheck and seeking answers and solidarity from others online. Though this was not the main reason I had sought for answers, it was a good portion of why. Primarily, I had noticed signs that were familiar to me, but also not. I had begun noticing crows coming in twos and occasionally threes, I noticed almost everything I turned to, would have some kind of Norse imagery or content involved, and quite a lot of it involved our beloved AllFather Odin. 

Now mind you, I NEVER saw myself as a Norse Pagan. I thought Loki and Thor were cool in the Marvel movies and myths, but I never exactly saw myself being a Norse Pagan. I also was never one for Greek Mythology and Hellenic Paganism either but here we are after receiving aid from Ares and Aphrodite a couple of times in my life. Truth be told, I was the kid that was (and still is) obsessed with the King Arthur myths and Celtic Paganism. I also was obsessed with Egyptian mythology (yes, I was the kid who had the Egyptology book growing up even though I wanted the Dragonology one but that’s okay!).

For me, I tend to be quite dense. I tend to be someone who is unable to really see signs unless they are hitting me right in the face (spiritually I have felt blocked for quite a while and if anyone has any tips for that I am down to listen not gonna lie). With all of the signs I did keep seeing though involving Odin, I knew I needed to start doing my research and find someone who could help shine a light within the darkness that was my uncertainty. Was this truly Odin I was being called to? Why? What did I need to hear?

I stumbled around and I did scroll through various sources until I crossed Adelaide’s tumblr page. I understood her focus was on Hellenism, but after speaking with her in the DM’s about doing a reading, I felt safe and comforted by the fact she was so kind, patient, and informative on what I needed. Absolutely one of the sweetest people I had met on here and I absolutely will keep following her because she is so kind and helpful. 

Like anyone who was hoping for answers, I happily paid the amount we agreed to for the details I was hopeful for. Though apologies now, but I genuinely underestimated Adelaide and her capabilities. I mean, I severely underestimated what this reading was going to be like. If you need detail, and are happy to pay her what she deserves, Adelaide will provide and she sure did.

I opened the pastebin link I had gotten and I didn’t even make it through the first paragraph without breaking down into literal tears. I wasn’t sad at all and it usually takes a lot for me to cry. I had been alone at work so far that night and it wasn’t entirely a bad day, but not exactly a good one either. It was going to be just another night where I went home and unwinded until I felt tired. 

Though this, this really just knocked me off my feet in a way I wasn’t expecting. I always was hesitant with deity readings, I have had someone scam me out of my money and just never provide what I requested and so I was almost worried it was going to happen again. I am so thankful I was wrong. 

To give a small bit of background about me, I originally had worked with Danu and Brigid. They were my first goddesses I had actually met and they both had welcomed me with open arms (though I never really understood why). That seemed to set a foundation of how my other encounters would be as I simply seemed to stumble into the contact of the deities I met and I would find every way to give them the respect they deserved. In turn, they nudged me further down the path that I now am on. 

Back to Brigid and Danu though, they were with me for at least a couple of years and both of them to me are basically like my mothers. I still hold so much love, respect and adoration for the both of them and I felt awful for even thinking, “Should I give my statue of Mother Brigid away to someone who may have more use for it than I?” I am glad I didn’t. 

Just reading that first paragraph was what did me in though and I don’t typically cry as I mentioned before. 

“ I do not believe any of these deities have truly left you “

Reading this made me realize I was silly to think that I was alone. I had spent so much time wondering why I was alone and left to try and fight by myself. I know I was doing better in life, but I knew I was starting to feel consumed by my fears of being alone. I continued onward after settling down again emotionally, but boy did the water works come back when I read,

“ For parting words, she simply said that she was pleased to have been with you and will always be around. “ 

This helped me realize that I needed to buckle up and get ready for a ride emotionally. There was a lot that would need unpacking, and I still have much to unpack from it all. 

After that paragraph, we moved onto Danu who had a similar response as Brigid. Aphrodite herself was as graceful and kind as she always has been, and I still feel I owe a lot of my progress to her as well. Without her, I would have never let go of the toxic and abusive relationships I had been in. I know personally, I should make a better attempt to reach out to her more and thank her over and over again. Ares though, I felt slightly intimidated by him, but at the same time I wasn’t entirely afraid. He just is a much quieter individual than I had expected and that is okay. From what I recall (and this reading proves it to me), he speaks when he feels it is necessary. 

Father Lucifer came next and I definitely cried again at the end of his paragraph. “ Lucifer simply said that he sees the light in you. “ That made me cry like a small child all over again and truthfully I was surprised that I had not known him since I was younger. My timing was off, but I am glad it was actually him as I felt I was not actually speaking to him at some points. 

I have much to thank him for, and I hope me even writing this will show others my love, adoration and respect I have for my deities. My deities, I cannot believe I get to say this and say it with such joy. 

Though with those fears, I just assumed I was just making my interactions up and I feel my self-doubt and mistrust of my own feelings has hindered me (even to this day) communications wise. I once again am glad to know I was so horribly wrong. 

The very last, was the most unexpected, and Papa Odin himself had just known that this reading was coming along, and he had been around the longest. Thinking about it now makes me want to cry all over again, but to me I feel this really reassured me because I know I had moments in life where I would see things involving Odin and feeling comfort in them. Internally, I would ask myself on occasion, “I wonder what it is like to just sit with him and talk. What is it like to work with him and learn from him?” 

Sure enough, here I am now laughing and almost crying at the fact that he was with me all along. I just needed to focus a bit more. I genuinely didn’t believe that I had mistaken him for The Morrigan (so sorry Papa Odin!) and yet he still took everything with good strides. I still am having trouble putting it in words how comforted and rejuvenated I feel to have this kindness, love, and support. 

For Odin himself, I cannot thank him enough for what he has done in my life so far. It makes me want to reevaluate my life and see just how many times I could have mistakenly missed him and signs he has given me. For someone who has been around for so long and has had a formative role in my life, I owe so much to him and am grateful to be blessed with his guidance and wisdom. I remembered for ages I wished I had a dad that would love and care for me and here I had Odin all along. Physically I may not be able to see him or hug him, but he was here all long and that is what matters so much to me.

At this point, Adelaide, thank you for all of this. Your words have brought me such joy, comfort, and inspiration and I had trouble thinking of how to even respond to all of this for a good bit of time. I even wondered what I needed to do at this point and I feel I have a solid idea of what I need to do now, but I just am still scrambling around to figure it all out. 

Little by little, I will walk towards my deities and I will do my very best to honor them. Thank all of you for the strength you have given me to stand back up, dust myself off, and continue on. This was what I needed to keep going and keep trying. I had made my username “mirroredpaladin” because I wanted to fight not only for the good of others, but for myself as well. It is about time I start actually doing that. 

From here on, I do want to find a way to properly and more consistently reach out to Odin, Lucifer and Ares. I want to find a way to properly thank them along with Brigid, Danu, and Aphrodite and it is about time I start looking where I can to do so. I know I need guidance, I never was properly educated on what to do with deity work, but I have to try for their sake and mine.

Thank you all for reading this. To also give some more love, I also want to thank @scarletarosa @thepastelpriestess and @its--in--the--weave​ and @blood-and-bunnies​ (I thought they had another username of @/rosegoldtunic before but I don’t remember) because these people have actually helped me get to where I am now along with Adelaide. <3

[joyisntyoj]

04: LETTERS TO NOBODY OR MAYBE MAYARI

Seal stamps, stamps with whatever designs, papers and pens, stickers, pictures, dried flowers, heartwarming messages, and a lot more.

When was the last time you wrote something on a literal piece of paper for someone?

Have you ever personally given someone a handwritten letter or sent it from the post office?

Is writing a letter still a thing today, or you just use whatever app you have because what is the point if other ways are more convenient, right?

Maybe, you are more the vocal type of person and, you just say what you feel instead of writing it down?

Perhaps, you are none of the above because what is important is your presence in their lives and, that is more than enough?

Still, how lovely it is to keep something that has sentimental value. It unnecessarily means that you are hoarding something because what's to not treasure from precious memories in a small piece of paper in an envelope?

This story is for those who never get tired of expressing themselves in whatever form they know, but most especially to those who write.

May you never run out of papers, inks, and thoughts to compose. to more unforgotten memories preserved in letters.

^^^

To: Mayari.

How are you? I wish things were getting better, just like what I always pray. These days, sleeping at night suddenly became serene as well as waking up in the morning. Sometimes my days are dull and typical...I believe? But most of the time, it's either I'm feeling blue or extra sad, or was that the same? I kept on blaming the pandemic, but for real, I'm just a mess. Silent battles are truly tough. I wish I had the courage and strength just like yours. Be safe. Stay sane. I'm really trying my best to be legit all right.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Liway is the name, exhausted with life. Mayari, someone out there, maybe a supreme being or plausibly not always receives Liway's letters. Sometimes Liway writes 10 messages at once and sometimes none at all. Mayari is the only recipient of such letters that even Liway never knew they were received by the random recipient it thought was just nobody. It all genuinely started on having a recipient written on the "To:" part at the post office. Though seriously, it doesn't even have any home address. It's super weird that it's for Mayari and no address, and were received.

HOW?

^^^

To: Mayari.

The night has come. This time, it feels heavier than usual. Tears are suddenly falling. I noticed that an unwelcome visitor came. The familiar pain is hugging me again, so tight that breathing is getting harder. I hate everything. Yet, I came to realize a lot of things. Afterward, I'm feeling blessed and grateful. Am I getting crazy? Before I went to bed, at the dinner table, I felt uncomfortable with the conversation we had, my family, about myself back then. I really hate it when they keep on bringing up what happened in the past. I already moved on... I think... so can they stop mentioning those moments? Honestly, whenever anything from the past is introduced again and remembered, I tend to feel like it just happened yesterday. Everything is coming back so fresh and new; fun, pain, sweats, and tears. I hate it.

PS. Mayari, can you send me some courage? Preferably in capsules, So I can have it in my intakes and be sure I'll be really having it in my system literally.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Continues writing so many letters filled with how living is like. Liway felt tired and exhausted. A few days ago, it was super overwhelmed that crying is unavoidable. Then this morning, Ms. Walmy called for a little chat and checking up because it's never too bad to check up on somebody, most especially when you're a counselor. It's your job, so uh? Anyway, though Liway was out of focus on the call, it was able to be accomodating and warm in return. It reciprocated the thoughtfulness with a sweet smile.

^^^

To: Mayari

Hey! Today I was mad because firsthand, I experienced that thing I usually hear from other people. The "don't-post-something-revealing-on-social-media-but-love-yourself-but-that's-not-appropriate". Well, I don't even know why I'm reacting super outrage towards it. Because knowing that my family is just concerned for me since the internet is frankly scary. I mean, I did nothing wrong, so why? Maybe deciding to be confident on the internet is not necessary for them. But for me, it is! So how should I deal with this? A friend consoled me, and I feel better. Still tho, my mood is already ruined. Oh gosh.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways, 

 Liway.

Welcoming a new week, the usual Liway is busy with the household chores. Some may find it stressful, but this one is pretty different. Scrubbing the floor, washing the dishes, brooming on the side. Later on, folding the clothes, fixing the bed, and a lot more things. It looks like it'll be tiring its body out until the nose bleeds, and passing out is the last resort to rest. How come it's easier to clean an actual mess than the one inside the head and heart?

^^^

To: Mayari.

Beloa visited me today. My childhood and the only friend left I have up to this day from elementary school. If you get what I mean? It's been a long time since we had a chat, especially that things are super complicated these days. She's doing really well, and I couldn't be more proud. I'm still amazed at how we manage to be friends because we both don't like each other to begin with. It's so funny that we even pulled each other's hair in the 4th grade while the class is taking the annual picture for the school year remembrance. What are the odds in this even, right? HAHAHA. Today was warm and bright.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Dates suddenly don't vary in these letters. Even the concept of time is somehow gone. What's important is regardless of not having these "important details" like the usual, Liway can keep up and be consistent in sending its letters. Liway never missed a chance to send a letter to the address less recipient, which left the post office staff to ponder with it. But as time goes by, Alle, the clerk, is no more surprised 'coz she's used to everything now. The envelopes unfailingly vanished the moment it was dropped inside the mailing box. Indeed, a magical mailbox.

^^^

To: Mayari.

I never knew how amazing pretending could be. You know that thing where someone usually says I'm okay, but really not? The inner saboteur that was triggered by their trauma is real-real-real. A car is useless when it's not moving if you wanted to travel to faraway places. Does that make sense?

PS. It sucks that our bathroom is the only "semi-safe space".

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

Polar bears are really fascinating. They get to hibernate. Then, after the time being, back on hunting and living their lives. Ligaya was one of Liway's hero. A lot knew Ligaya for being a superhero, although she does not have that fantasy powers. Just like the polar bears, too, Ligaya has been hibernating for quite some time but kept on saying that she was not. Liway saw it all. Maybe a bear's hibernation is different from a human-being, hmm?

^^^

To: Mayari.

IDK what to say, but I just wanted to be consistent at the very least in sending you letters.

PS. The radio was broken, but in my head, it's working. It kept on playing nonstop music. Is this a poetic way of saying I'm overthinking things?

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

^^^

To: Mayari.

A lot happened lately. Somebody lost a precious one, and here I am, having a renaissance moment. It's a crazy ride, but for all it's worth, the pea has grown into a beautiful plant. Hope it made sense coz finally, everything is making sense to me now. Little by little, slowly and surely.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways,

Liway.

^^^

To: Mayari

Hey!! I hope you are doing great!!! These days, everything felt surreal. I get to be active everywhere. It's draining, yet I feel so alive than ever. I had this thought that time is indeed just a concept, hmm? I mean, anytime is the right time to do what you want and whatever it is. Nothing is too late, most especially when it comes to growth. OH, being late in class still counts but FOR REAL RIP TO THE ONLINE CLASS SETUP -_-

PS. May we never run out of time to be the best versions of ourselves. LOVE WHOEVER YOU WANT. fck the situation, but SOON, GO ANYWHERE YOU WANT. SPEND FOR YOURSELF AND FOR YOUR LOVED ONES. FEEL EVERYTHING.

PSS. May we leave this world with fewer regrets and more amazing memories.

With so much love and kindness always and all ways, 

Liway.

Quite a lot of letters were already sent. The post office is getting more and more letters, as well as Mayari. Still, NO REPLY. Maybe some other, Liway will be able to hear Mayari's words.

^^^

To: Mayari.

*here's an envelope just in case you want to write me something*

With so much love annd kindness always and all ways, 

Liway.

'Tis the season to be jolly. LOL Nah. Liway has been out for the past weeks. By out, means on a hibernation mode. A L O T R E A L L Y happened. It's hard to put it into words. I guess Liway will end these letter-sending shenanigans or just lazy and trying to give out some excuses //

^^^

To: Mayari. 

Ever since I was taught how to move around the kitchen, I've been assigned to be Mom's assistant while cooking for the feast every event/occasion we'll be celebrating. It's tiring but super fun. Getting your fingers bleed and while unaware is cool LOL~ 

PS. Why does it feel so good to overthink things while doing the dishes? What's with that scenario.........

With so much love and kindness always and all ways, 

Liway.

Tireless hands, heart, and mind with countless thoughts and feelings, papers, and pens everywhere—WRITING; it surely is one of the best ways to vent. Though letters can’t hug and wipe one's tears, witness waves of laughter, ease the pain, and such, the comfort from every word written is more than enough.

Suddenly time barge in and reminded me that this is enough. THIS IS ENOUGH FOR 2020...

A new chapter has arrived, and maybe it's time to move forward. Maybe this is where it all gonna stop for a while. I mean, writing is somehow tiring, literally. Probably, Mayari might reply with the number of letters sent anytime soon, so maybe waiting is all that needed.

No rush in moving on.

MAY YOU GET THE REPLY YOU LONG FOR SO LONG.

PRIORITIZE YOURSELF AND HAVE COURAGE.

BE KIND ALWAYS AND ALL WAYS.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Little did nobody know, Liway is writing a letter to her "ideal" self.

The letter-sending-to-nobody thingy of Liway is really mind-boggling, right?

Mayari is Liway. Liway is Mayari.

The things that Liway wanted to say but cannot articulate well were always sent to Mayari. Mayari is the version of Liway it wishes to become in the future. 

The weak Liway longs and hopes to have "that" someone by her side to look up to. That's why she always writes letters and keeps them in the memory box.

The post office thingy was actually her shared room at home: the table at the corner with no lights but so much mess. It's that post office.

It's pandemic, so how can a post office be open and how brave she is to go out, right?

That saying, "be the hero you wanted to have when you were little", is the best explanation of Liway's way of venting and expressing.

Nobody knows when Mayari will come to life because it's no certainty that we can be the ideal self we all wanted to happen. 

For now, Liway is fighting her battles and screaming louder to the universe,

UNTIL WHEN DO I HAVE TO FEEL THIS WAY?

To be continued...

Happy New Year, Mayari. ✨💜

This is like an excerpt from my quarantine shenanigans for 2020 LOL.

[kyu-bri]

Magia Rapport pt 2

@magiarapport​

August 24th prompt: What was your favorite event, and why? Is it because of gameplay or the story?

It’s hard to choose so I’m gonna just, gush a bit.

As you can probably tell I’m very biased toward the OG girls, I started Magia Record primarily because PMMM had become my new obsession and I wanted some sort of constant flow of content out of decade old anime lmao.

But another thing I think I hooked onto was Inu Curry’s writing. They really know Madoka Magica and aren’t afraid to really play with them- something the writers for a spin-off gacha game (as with most spin-off stories honestly) can be scared to do. Inu Curry made references, revealed secrets and built upon the story we already know- which lets be honest is what we always truly want from a spin-off series. Magia Record proper does this well by putting more magical girls into the world and letting us see things work out better for them than for the original cast, but what I really appreciated with this story was getting to see that old original cast get to get in on that, and these events managed to do that without watering them down any.

Under the cut is me going on for 3000 words about why I love these three events I’m so sorry. TL;DR at the very end-

I’ll go in release order,

A La Carte Valentine was one of the first if not THE first event I got in on. I was eager to bc 1 Gay Magical Girl Shit Guaranteed. And ofc 2 OG Cast participation.

I want to preface by saying I actually loved all the girls’ stories in this. I was very much still in a state of getting used to Iroha’s gang let alone trying to care about the secondary girls. I knew Tsukasa had this angsty Twins Separated At Birth Deal and liked seeing her home life (also I immediantly stanned Take. Regular well-meaning dude who has no idea whats going on just trying his best and hating his boss). I knew nothing about Ami except Cowgirl Meguca and getting the bulk of her personality in one short even I think really kept me from being absolutely sick of her, she’s just a cute silly teenage girl who could be in literally anything and I was able to just endearingly giggle at that. Hinano managed to do the heterosexual unrequited crush cliché without me groaning or missing any of her regular personality. Also was there a Ren part? I don’t remember because everything Ren does feels like a Soft Yuri Valentines Special. Also I love Momoko. Ok moving on to what I Really wanna talk about.

Madoka is genuinely my Least Cared About of the Holy Sextet. I don’t think she’s bad or even boring- Madoka has a depth to her character, like, really deep- but that’s not something ever really touched upon by the fandom. Even when people like her and make her the Heroine she’s Supposed to be, it’s usually in the context of “Girl who feels nothing but kindness and happy thoughts would cut off her right hand to feed to a hungry dog. Isn’t she so Good????”. And honestly, while I understand the point it was going to make, I wasn’t crazy about her sacrifice in the end of the series. (Team Homura “Rebellion Is Good Actually” ftw) All because I think that I’m an Adult Woman watching this like “You are 14yrs old and need to be home playing Sims and not sacrificing yourself for the greater good you stupid silly little baby girl”

So my point is here near all fan content I encounter tends to emphasize whats sort of my least favorite facet of Madoka. I don’t think she made the ‘wrong’ decision in the context she and the story were given, but it’s still a sad thing to show a depressed(!!!) insecure girl resolving to give away her very existence so that every other girl on earth has a chance to just Dream. Oh and they still usually die young. But that’s ok because then she takes them and lets them sleep peacefully forever in her Heaven Basement (Yes I am bitter stan Homura I would yank this savior complex infant girl out the sky too)

MY POINT BEING (The servers closing let me BLEED OUT ALL MY FEELINGS) This event did not do that!!! It made Madoka…….. EVERYTHING SHE SHOULD BE??? ALWAYS??? Showed her HOW WE SHOULD BE ABLE TO VIEW HER??? (Read: Happy and Alive and Confident at no foreboding or sacrifice of anyone else!!!!)

She is Sassy and Surrounded By Friends and Really Funny??? And we get this Ridiculous Oh My God On Crack metaphor about her being this all-powerful apocalypse bringing being which is representing her love for the universe through her Witch form of Wanting Everyone To Be Happy And Safe With Her??? And she still risks herself to save everyone as is her Thing to do but we get to have her do it without erasing her existence as a human being at the end and if that is not some GOOD SHIT????

Ok next:

NGL Sayaka’s (fav character, inarguable best girl, can u not tell) parts in MagiReco til like the last arc have always left me a bit disappointed. She was the only late comer of the OG girls from what I understand and it kind of gives her the air of what a lot of the second(/thirdary?) girls suffer from. You can tell the writers can’t even figure out a trope to apply her to to make her easy and two dimensional to write about so they just don’t know what to do. They definitely try to make up for it (especially in the anime which Praise Be but that’s probably Inu Currys doing) but she’s still lacking like, any of the depth of her personality. Which, I guess I could anticipate. Because most of the fandom tends to as well. (again)

Gonna stop complaining and get on with- That didn’t feel as much the case in her Valentine event. Sure it was still the same formula of “The Issue Is Kyosuke” but that didn’t play out as grueling as her personal story did with “Nine Episodes Of “The Issue Is Kyosuke””

There was one big glaring heart-aching detail of “Mami isn’t really there because SHES IN A FUCKING CULT RIGHT NOW” which kind of jarred the event out of the ho-hum silly valentines sidestory these events usually keep up.

Sayaka has this crisis about Doing Anything Meaningful With Kyosuke which we all know what That’s calling back to, but in this environment we get to have Kyoko come right up and be in a position with her to earnestly and affectionately Push Her To Do It. The lonely little tsundere bitch girl pushes her Not Friend to Give The Bastard The Gotdamn Chocolate Already and for a moment you can only think about What If’s and If Only’s. Sayaka’s is still the weakest of the threes stories in this event but it worked harder to show us different sides of the characters then 6 chapters of Another Story managed to do.

And then there’s fucking Homura.

I will be, eternally grateful for Kuro. As a character that becomes metaphorical for the 2D ways we initially viewed the feathers and just NPCs in games in general, and also like, giving Homura a friend she actually cares about that isn’t the tangled dark web of Bullshit she’s gotten tied up with Madoka in. Please ask me about all my AU’s where Kuro is Homuras first girlfriend.

Seeing Moemura in Magia Record has always been a bit surreal, we never really understand just what stage of Trauma this Homura is in because Multiverses Are Hell, but this event gives us a good chunk of a Homura who still has hope and faith both in the world and Madoka. Theres this wonder to her that while still bogged down by terrible experiences still has the energy to be Trying. And she sees a girl who used to be like her- which when you think about it is probably what Madoka saw in her- and she wants to help. Because Madoka helped her. And Madoka is the best thing in the universe and maybe Homura can be just a little bit closer to that.

Kuro is too far gone though, as is the reality frequently in this series, things don’t work out just because of circumstance. Kuro was a bullied, insecure little girl who realistically shouldn’t have had to become a rampaging monster because of it. We’re reminded of this being the reality of the Madoka universe. Homura, is reminded of this reality. Homura loses this one chance to bring hope into the world like Madoka brought hope into hers.

And then her story ties into the ending of Madoka’s. Madoka saves her life yet again, even as Homura continues to feel miserable and empty. But at least Madoka is with her. The girls then share a quiet, intimate Valentines together. And you sort of understand how Homura fell so far into the darkness that the only thing she was able to still care about and fight for was Madoka’s safety.

That shit slaps. It slaps you right in the heart and causes fucking bruising but then u want it to do it again because you’re masochistic and Meguca Is Suffering.

Anyway I hope Kuroe slaps our hearts more in season2

MOVING ON!!!!

~Nagisa’s Wish~

Ok, I don’t remember what got me so simp over Nagisa, I think it was the heart-aching irony that Mami adopts the witch that fucking ate her. But that is my baby now and I’d die for her. Fandom Charlotte whose pink and silly and loves her mom and is Mami’s cancer-riddled girlfriend is cool and all but she isn’t a tiny Halloweeny baby whose fucking bitter angry and manically obsessed with cheese due to PTSD.

I had saw a summary of Nagisa’s Wish reposted just to quickly explain Nagisa’s backstory, and as such immediately had to search out if that crazy ride was true- so I actually watched this whole event probably before I downloaded the game. It was surreal on its own but replaying it when it came to NA didn’t lessen it any- I got to process more of what I was witnessing and as result stanned Yu pretty hard.

I guess to explain my Emotions here, saving Yu for later- calls for me to just, describe who Nagisa is as a human being and my headcanons surrounding it all with what this event gave us. Whether you consider it canon or not it’s one version of events that we were given and that I am all for accepting.

Nagisa’s Mom was a celebrity, she could have been an actress though I also like the idea of her being an Idol. She met Nagisa’s Dad oh-so romantically and got knocked up- they very well could have been married but it doesn’t seem clear enough. He seems to have left too suddenly for legal matters like that. Nagisa is approximately 11, and while she seems to remember her Father, she doesn’t in the sense of having had a relationship with him or any feelings. Her Mother has to “explain” why he left, so Nagisa was probably still young even if not a baby. What I’m getting at here is the timeline for when Nagisa’s Mom Got Like That. Nagisa can remember her from before she was, and then says that she got sick after her Dad left. So what I’m wondering is did Daddy Momoe ruin this young rich girls life, give her syphilis and then leave her with a baby she was unfit to care for in poverty? I know half of this is running on anime logic but Holy Shit all the possible ways reasons and ideas for why things could’ve gotten This Bad.

Is it ridiculously dark and edgy that the original story we were given was “Girl wishes her dying mother could have her favorite cake but then realizes OOPSIE-DAISY I could have wished for her to Not Die instead!!!!” got turned into “11yr old hates her abusive mother so much she wants to make her suffer in the most symbolic way she can and then goes mental when she isn’t able to do it”??? Yes. But if I had the mental capacity to I have to admit I was in a position to be just as bitter at that age too. I can’t call it unrealistic. I may infact be projecting hard with how much I support and enjoy this backstory.

Anyway Nagisa was in such a state of trauma and distress at a horrifically young age when she died that it broke her mental faculties so severely that even when she came back as a literal Angel of God she had blocked it out so deeply and thoroughly she seemingly regressed to an even younger capacity and hyperfixated on the trait that she has before used to try to bond with her Mother who she had died hating.

And that also slaps u right in the heart.

A N D T H E N !

~Beachside Bonds~

Just the simple structure of this story was so enjoyable and nicely done. We finally get to see the OG girls in a context we wouldn’t be able to in literally any other scenario. They’re going on a summer vacation together and Homura is sentimentally journaling every single second of it. Is this mayhaps because she’s never gotten to be this happy and blissful with these girls she loves so much??? Of course this is are you not paying attention what the fuck. Homura is so optimistic and healed and hopeful she’s acting like what she might actually be doing as a normal teenage girl. (A heartrending contrast to the end of her Valentines Special)

We get nothing short of pure fluffy Slice Of Life shenanigans on the beach which even includes a bunch of the Kamihama girls that the OG crew knows! And they talk about it! And introduce eachother! And their friends commentate on it! Ren gets to see Kyoko Not Being A Bitch and then Sayaka teases her about having made friends and oh my god my heart is turning into cottoncandy as we speak Mom holy FUCK

Sayaka’s existence fucking matters in this story! It’s her families Hotel they’re staying at and she has relationships and memories with the creepy twins that live there and she talks like a fucking person??? And gives opinions??? That aren’t just copypasted “Justice is Good and Bad things are BAD!!!!”

Mami is fresh out of her fucking Cult Drama and she’s still trying to be cool Senpai but then she DECKS Homura in the face and gets scared by the ghost stories and then turns into pudding and waxes nostalgia at Kyoko out of nowhere IT’S ALMOST LIKE SHE’S A FIFTEEN YEAR OLD GIRL????????

G H O S T S ? ? ? ?

Y U ! ? ! ? ! ? !

(IS G A Y ! ! ! !)

This whole fucking backstory and truly horrifying Romeo and Juliet on Acid love and death story between Yu and her girlfriend and like if I wasn’t fascinated enough by Yu just being the creepy organ harvester before but apparently thats what she became after she literally made some sort of wish that erased all of her memories besides the nickname her sweetheart used for her and coincidentally also added to her the task of killing all Bad People?????

Yu made a wish to be able to get rid of All Bad People preserving the innocent version of herself who grew up with this girl and it was right after a failed double suicide attempt on fucking Doomed Lovers Cliff fucking Lifetime Will You Ever.

It then pairs with Homura whose PTSD gets to shine through a bit in being unable to believe any bad sort of Madoka which how could you try to force her to at this point while Also pairing Homura with Ren in the “Gay Love Saved Our Lives: Traumatized vers & Vanilla vers”

I don’t remember if there was a symbolic finale and tbh I have forgotten a lot of the details with Yu and her girlfriend Whatsherface because that shit was just so shocking and bizarre to read and much too painful to reread in a timely fashion just.

That shit hurted but it was full of so much love and hope both doomed and stolen but still was wrapped up in the comforting concept that This Is The Universe Where Homura Gets To Be Okay This Time.

She’s still scarred beyond comprehension and this ghost drama accentuated it all but at the end of the day this is still the Safe Universe where all of them are alive and the Holy Quintet are friends and they’re all going to be okay (Godoka & Aniplex willing) and so many of us love Madoka Magica because it shows girls fighting through the same pain we’ve been through and keeping their hope alive and here we get to see them actually find peace in a clunkily written fanservicey spin-off mobile gacha game and hey, that made me happy while I got to experience it. Thanks for the ideas and memories and tragic backstories and funny thirdary characters MagiReco I’m gonna take em all and Run.

Akjsladbfalkjfsbslk If you read this all without getting a migraine or blocking me ily thanks for listening!!!!!!

TL;DR

Me likey A La Carte Valentine bc it’s silly and gay and I simp Kuro

Me likey Nagisa’s Wish bc sawft baby is good and so are Tragic Edgy Backstories

Me likey Beachside Bonds bc Gay Ghosts and Our Girls Finally Get To Be Happy Peaceful(ish) Teenage Girls and that’s all I want for them ;w;

Reeses In Pieces ya’ll

1Ten 2More 3Words 4To 5Hit 6(3000 7Words 8Woo 9Boy 10Howdy

[my-whumpy-little-heart]

🍰☕🍼 :3c

Thank you so much for the ask Allen! I may have spent multiple hours writing all of this, but they were a very very happy few hours and I’m just happy you enabled that.

🍰- strawberry or vanilla?

Oooohhhhh this question. This. Question. Everyone always asks vanilla or chocolate and that’s so easy for me because I easily prefer vanilla more! But vanilla versus strawberry? That’s such a difficult debate!

On one hand, vanilla is the plainer of the two. That’s easy to dock it for, but it’s so classic! You can’t get vanilla flavoring wrong unless you really try to. I can go anywhere and ask for a vanilla milkshake, and I can be sure that sucker’s gonna taste like good ol’ vanilla.

But then, thinking about strawberry, it’s so much more flavorful! It’s distinct and fruity and sweet and even when toned down by being included in something such as ice cream or cake it’s still a lovely flavor. But then again, when you bake with strawberries they can make things really funky and not be all that great. The fault of that in store bought items is mostly them being artificial so the strawberry flavor can’t be properly replicated... but sometimes it’s super good!

If I were to make a definite decision, I’d have to go with strawberry and blame it solely on the fact that I’m thinking of some really tasty strawberry ice cream that this one place around us has. It’s got little frozen strawberries in it which provide an exquisite texture and pop of flavor in the duller flavor of the ice cream itself. It’s a lovely experience, especially paired with a scoop of cookies and cream (cookies and cream is the best ice cream flavor and you can’t fight me on that because I’m feeling too soft to threaten people right now)

☕- coffee or tea?

Ahaa, so sorry to report that I’ve gotta go with neither. The smell of coffee repulses me, and tea has never really struck my fancy. 

Since I couldn’t provide a very good answer for that, I will instead that I’ve been listening to This Is Home by Cavetown and TrusT by half·alive repeating while answering these asks and am just now switching to Stranded Lullaby by Miracle Musical. If you need calming tunes, they’re all certified Chill~~ songs as dictated by the playlist I put them in.

🍼- what is your favorite memory?

buckle up. you opened the floodgates of I’m Really Feeling About This so soft puddle boa ahead, I’ve melted all over the floor and it may be slippery. crossing my fingers that i haven’t already mentioned this on here and forgotten about it because this is just one of my favorite memories ever and I’m going to get lost in it and gush about it.

OKAY. SO. LISTEN UP. I got very VERY happy about this coming segment. By that, I mean there nearly 3000 words ahead. So. Fair warning, It’s all super fun positive stuff and if you need a pick me up I hope I can do it for you but I’m gonna try and use a read more cut here. Really hoping Tumblr works with me on that.

This is a memory from last summer, just over a year ago now. A whole group of my extended family and us got together and we all took a vacation to Southeastern USA. One of the days down there we spent in Savannah, Georgia. First of all, it’s a beautiful city. Temperatures there are Very High, especially in the middle of summer, but it’s so scenic and I loved the whole aesthetic of the parts we walked around in as well as the history we learned about it. 

During the day we took a walking food and drink tour (’drink’ for those of the proper age, not for me lol) and then spent a little while wandering on our own. We found through a newspaper that there was this cool little donut shop that had just opened its doors a few days prior and went to check it out. And it was the coolest little place! They’re called 8-Bit Donuts so look that up and scroll a little in google images if you wanna get a visual of their store, but it’s this cute, geeky little donut place! It was a fun discovery and we sat in there to have a few donuts before heading off to meet up with the rest of the family for what we’d scheduled for that evening.

We headed over to the Savannah Theater which, if I’m not mistaken, is one of the oldest still operating theaters in the country. It looked pretty unassuming from the outside, and even still when we stepped in. It had those nice old theater vibes but I still wasn’t completely informed on what we were doing there. My parents said something about a ‘variety show’ and this being something my great aunt was really looking forward to doing, so I was chill with it. 

When we stepped in to the theater space itself, that’s when I was starting to go ‘oh, oh yeah okay i can vibe with this.’ It had so many cool old timey vibes and I just felt like I’d stepped into a different time period than my own. We had seats all across the back rows because I think it was more of a last minute decision and we wanted to sit our large group as close together as possible. So I got an aisle seat (aisle seat best seat and I stand by that) and chilled there for a bit while we waited for the show.

I feel inclined to preface this with, yes, I was in the height of my theatre phase that summer. And I was excited to see some live performance because I had been living on bootlegs for months. As I think about this I really want to talk about something else that I greatly admire and have lovely memories of, but I can’t get very in detail because unfortunately this is something closer to where I live. I’ll see if I can expand on it once i finish this explanation because I thought about it and I’m remembering some lovely things I’d forgotten,,,

Alrighty! did all that for an hour so now I am Back to talk about this. So, right, sitting in an aisle seat. So the show started and immediately I was entranced. They made an announcement beforehand encouraging audience participation and excitement. So I was like oh, this isn’t gonna be a very traditional theatre performance huh. And it wasn’t! Variety show basically meant they performed songs from a ‘variety’ of different shows and time periods, and some more from pop culture through the years too! 

I think this was really mostly aimed at older folks, but oh my gosh let me tell you; I had the Time Of My LIFE that night.

I was so into everything they did, even when I didn’t know the songs because the theater was buzzing with their energy and enthusiasm and I just can’t describe to you the feeling of euphoria I got from watching that show. I never would have chosen it, yet here I was completely over the moon and throwing my hands in the air to the tune of Shout by The Isley Brothers (oh my gosh even now I just turned on and aaah if you need to ever lift your spirits please turn this on i’m dancing around in my chair i forgot how much i loooove this song aaaaaaah!!!!!!). Listen I know it sounds really stupid but I promise I was just having so much fun not worrying about what I was doing or how I was coming off but just being so joyously immersed in the show.

And right during that song, the performers had actually come off the stage and into the aisles. Walking down them, singing, dancing, all that. And one of them came down our aisle too. So let me back up and say that they all looked super Fancy and Cool and I was over here like starry eyed because dancing around with a three piece suit on is life goals okay I just think formalwear is awesome! That’s not an important detail but you needed it for the Imagery that you probably won’t get any more of because I’ve been typing this for literally three hours and I’m becoming incoherent. Not that that’s a bad thing because I am having Genuine, Unadulterated Fun.

Yes. So. Guy comes down our aisle, the slow part of the song comes on, and he extends his hand. Towards The Me. And I’m here like 👀??? Looking around and pointing to myself like “me??” and he nods and I’m like !!!!!!! because listen crowd participation is just the coolest shit. Whenever people are picked out of an audience for something during things like this I’m over here like “oooooh i wanna do that thing!” So!! For him to probably have recognized me in the back row just having a whole time and a half with their show and gone back like ‘okay, I recognize your enthusiasm and I think that’s great and invite you to join me in having fun’ 

I was just !!!!!! So I took his hand and keep in mind that I Cannot Dance. He led and Knew What He Was Doing which was good because I’m a fool but it was cool!!! I nearly fell over when I twirled!! I laughed and smiled and I could not care less about looking dumb and I really aspire to be that version of myself more often. I think those seconds are some of the Purest Glee I’ve ever felt and I’m so grateful to all those actors, but especially that man, for making my night something I’ll remember fondly for years to come!

The rest of the show was great after that little adrenaline rush and we came out after it and I was still just a little bundle of Excitement. The rest of my family around us commented on it and my parents had apparently managed to get their phones out quickly enough to catch footage and pictures of that hilarity that I still have saved on my own phone. But yeah there was another half of my family that had ended up on the far side of the theater from us. And it was then, after everything, that I learned they had also! seen me dancing! And I was like oh wait, hold up, you what??

So yeah, I had not realized at the time that there was a bit of a spotlight on us and the Whole Entire Theater had seen us dance. There was a little embarrassment mixed in there, but honestly I was far too happy to care at that point.

After that we went out to get some ice cream and it was just a really nice cooldown after what I can easily say was one of the best days of my life.

OKay okay dammit I’m writing it now and putting it at the end of the ask. Hello, future reader, this is directly continued off of the paragraph where I talked vaguely about something else I was thinking of. So, detailed explanation undetailed, there’s this beautiful, scenic place near me. There’s this old mansion that I’ve toured and aaaaaaahhh it’s really a beautifully preserved place. Old architecture like that is. Ohhh I could stare at it for days on end. 

And there’s a lovely, what, ‘reserve’ I guess of nature around it? I’d describe it as walking through an enchanted forest. It’s just natural and sometimes if you’re close enough to the mansion you can catch glimpses of it through the treetops, and it’s genuinely one the most peaceful places I’ve ever been. I. Just. AAAAAH and that’s not even my whole point!! 

Because right in the middle of this incredible greenery there’s a stage. And no, not the kind of stage you’re imagining. It’s like a little set of its own, a wooden ground stage and there’s a climbable second level with doors and all that. An all purpose sort of structure where they put on Shakespeare plays. They put on Shakespeare plays on that beautiful stage in the middle of the enchanted woods and I just want to cRY THINKING ABOUT IT I CAN’T GET TO MY POINT HERE.

So. SO. In order to tell this story. I. Need to go on Another side tangent and dearest Lord if you’re still with me I commend you, and I love you because this has been so stupidly self indulgent and rambly up until this point. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to make a cut work. Hm. This is off topic. It’s off the off topic from the off topic and was there even a topic to all this in the first place? I swear I’m completely sober and have never been Not Sober I’m just. Like This I guess.

Right. Other side tangent. So, this happened the summer after my freshman year of high school specifically. Why is that important? In my English class, we had done a class reading of Romeo and Juliet. And by class reading, I mean Class Impromptu Performance. I looked forward to that class So So Much because. Every day we would read through a scene or so of the story, and we had assigned roles that rotated every act. The combination of people in the class made for one of my favorite class dynamics I’ve ever had. Along with my teacher, everyone in there was so fun and silly but also knew when and how to stop so we could get work done. Far and away one of my favorite overall high school experiences. but yeah!

In the first act of Romeo and Juliet, I was assigned to be Mercutio. And, well, I was looking ahead a bit on our second day of reading because I hadn’t popped up yet. And, ah, if you know anything about Mercutio’s role in act one, you’ll know he’s got a Long Ass Monologue. And as I flipped ahead in our English book I found that and. My first thought was. “Oh woah, that’s a big ol block of text I wonder who reads th-” and my second thought, after reading the character name, was “oh shit.” 

Sooooo I went over and asked my teacher like, “Hey, uh, Mrs. L. Am I. Am I reading that?” and she was like “yeah.” and I’m sitting there like “ah, alright, coooool.” and on the inside I really couldn’t figure out if I was excited to try my hand at it or Very Very Terrified. But I think my teacher that year knew me far better than I knew myself, because when it came to that Thursday and we’d made it to act 4, I fell in love with Mercutio’s character. He’s so overdramatic and expressive while also tossing a little snark in there, and he’s not afraid to be seen as a little insane. I had fun reading off the monologue, especially after reading it a few times beforehand to myself so I’d at least know what it said. 

I think it was a few days later when I was talking to my teacher about that, and she said that every year she picks the roles very specifically according to her students. And with the Mercutio one, especially the first act, she said she just kinda Knows the students that role would resonate with. And, well, it resonated alright. 

And. And ohhhhhh yeah you know where this is going. I read ahead at home on no fear Shakespeare because without the help to understand everything that we got in class it would have been very difficult for me to read that and get all the jokes and plot points myself. So yeah, when I got to act three I was suitably Very Upset to find out that Mercutio died. Since I had that English class for the last period of our day, I may or may not have stayed after the day after I read his death scene at home and grieved with my teacher over it. It was a fun conversation but yes I may or may not have been Quite Distraught that my favorite character died in the middle of the play. I could continue that answer, but yes that’s what you need to know. Mercutio was my favorite character by a long shot.

SOOOO fast forward to that summer where this Outdoor Shakespeare thing I was rambling about announced that the tragedy they put on that summer would be none other than Romeo and Juliet. And immediately I was super excited, because I knew the plot to that! I’d just experienced it in English class and it was absolutely too perfect to pass up. 

So one summer evening, we took the trip out there to see this theater company’s production. It was such a lovely night. We brought takeout dinner and a picnic blanket to eat out on the grass before the show, then got in our seats to wait for it. And so something I hadn’t known about this before is that they do something called a ‘Green Show.’ It’s a crowd-pleaser sort of thing, an appetizer before the main show for the evening, and a warm up for the actors as well. 

I don’t have clear memories of exactly what they did, but everyone was in this very simple folk-clothing if you catch my drift and it was very casual, like I was in some old town and watching some group of people sit on a corner and just have fun making music together. It was energizing and just made me feel so warm inside. It was familiar and homely, even though I’d never experienced it before. But during that show, I picked out this one guy apart from the rest who seemed especially enthusiastic. His energy was enthralling and he had a really beautiful voice. And I was just wondering, ah, I wonder what character he’s playing.

Yes, I know you can see where this is going. Let me have my fun with the dramatic reveal that past Boa got to experience.

Through the beginning of the show, I hadn’t seen that guy yet. Or I didn’t think I had, I’ve known to be very unperceptive. But finally at that fourth scene where he appears, I saw the Romeo and Benvolio actors walking up through our little aisle of chairs and behind them was Mercutio. And I was already excited because aaH! the monologue! the monologue i did in class but now i got to see it performed live! by a professional!! And then I got a good look at him and i was like !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT’S THE COOL GUY FROM THE GREEN SHOW!!! aND I was just. Aaaaaahh!!!! I was so excited and it probably sounds really dumb but I. Just. Yeahhhhh that was awesome.

And what do you know, he was incredible in the role! From monologue to death scene, I thoroughly enjoyed his performance as Mercutio and the rest of my family probably knew that all too well from how excited I was at intermission. I just!!! I saw Mercutio and I Latched right on to his character so seeing him come to life in just the way I imagined and right before my eyes I. It was freaking incredible I don’t know man that actor just. Worked magic.

And after the show, all the actors kinda lined up by the exit and said farewell as we headed out. And I really wanted to say a word or two to the Mercutio actor but I nearly didn’t ask my parents to stop because I was kinda scared about it. Either I worked up the courage to ask my parents, or one of them asked if I wanted to go up and say hi, but yeah I did. I don’t remember my words exactly, but I was just stammering and nervous but got my point across of “hey i read the play this year and love your character and you played him super well and i just think that’s super cool and i’m lowkey idolizing you right now!’

So I went home with those warm butterflies in my heart that night. And it was such a wonderful experience that I just dug back out of my brain tonight so I’m really really happy I got to remember and record all that,,,