#I wasted a lot of time being miserable out of loneliness

[life-love-and-sports]

Freedom

You call it loneliness until you become strong enough to leave misery behind, and see it as freedom.

[fourmula1]

I'm sure someone has asked before but how did established relationship Maxiel handle Daniel leaving Red Bull? I adore the way you write them ❤️

ohhh how delightful to receive this! I haven't written about them in awhile.

honestly i think it was kind of bad. max was incredibly hurt that daniel was leaving the team, leaving him as a teammate, and ultimately figured that daniel wanted to leave him as a boyfriend also. how could daniel still want to be romantically involved if he was leaving the team? leaving the team because of max?

daniel tried to explain that he didn't want to break up but he couldn't be with red bull anymore professionally because he had other goals and dreams. it was hard and messy for daniel, too, because he loves max the person, but max the teammate made things hard.

i think they probably took some time apart; max had a really hard time reconciling the idea that daniel could still love him but not want to be teammates. in his mind he couldn't get past that. how could daniel leave red bull because of him, but still want to be in a relationship?

i'd say it wasn't miscommunication because daniel tried to be as clear as he could with his intentions. he loves max. wants to be with max, still wants to go home with max every day. but max really couldn't separate his personal life from his work life. he's still so young and has growing and maturing to do, and the first few days and nights after daniel telling max what he was doing were really hard. lots of arguing, and talking into the night, and lots of crying on both parts, and max being unable to understand or accept that they could still be together through this.

daniel went back to his apartment. he never officially moved out of his place and into max's but one day he'd just... stopped going home. now being 'home' feels foreign because there's no max, no cats, just cold empty loneliness.

they never truly broke up or had that 'this is over' conversation but they spent a few weeks apart over summer break, trying to pretend to their friends like they weren't absolutely miserable, and being unable to tell their friends and families why. they're not really out to anyone but their trainers, who were really in the need to know category.

daniel's first year at renault was rough on both him and max relationship-wise. during summer break they could pretend everything was mostly the same, and they agreed to try to work through it and be together through the season. max was trying his best but he was still sad, still hurt, still feeling such conflict inside about how he could feel that daniel loves him but also believe that somehow he must not if he left red bull. it's always been hard for max to separate work and personal life, because driving has been his life for all of it.

i think ups and downs for that first year were common. times where they'd agreed to be together and get back to their lives together, and times where max's confidence was just shaken. he'd tried so, so hard to be brave and make his feelings known to daniel in the first place. he'd made his first move when he was just barely nineteen and been rejected spectacularly; embarrassed and heartbroken, but determined nonetheless. he'd waited for daniel to be okay with their age difference. pretended everything was cool for an entire year until he was twenty and daniel couldn't argue he was a kid, anymore. he'd waited, and tried so hard to be chill. he'd never committed himself like this to anything but racing, before. daniel had been it for him. two years together and he'd never so much as glanced at another man - devoted and in love and obsessed with daniel.

it devastated max to have daniel go to another team, and not be together all the time anymore. what if daniel met someone else? what if daniel realized he was wasting his time with max - too young, too focused, too obsessed with being the best, too immature. what if he found someone else, more his age, more exciting, interested in more things than racing. then what?

so. yeah. that first year was rough. max had to work hard on his own confidence in their relationship. it wasn't that he didn't trust daniel, it was mostly that he worried daniel would realize max wasn't all that special. he had to work hard on understanding that daniel could, and did, still love max despite not wanting to be on the same team anymore.

it wasn't easy and they had lots of fights, and tears, and hard talks, but i think when 2020 hit that made them really have to sort it out for good. lockdowns and shutdowns meant nothing but time together to work it out.

and they did! it might have taken a year of ups and downs, back and forth, together and apart at times, but they slowly got there. were committed to each other. and max figured it out. he still never wanted daniel to leave red bull. he still wishes daniel hadn't. but max is slowly learning that work and life don't have to be the same thing. he's learning.

it'll be six years for them this fall. six years. nearly a quarter of max's life. they survived 2019. they'll survive anything.

[sashaameow]

Vent from a nobody

I don't like doing this, I know people don't care, I know trauma dumping is looked down upon as a waste of time and you're expected to just keep it in. But I am weakling and a dumbass and I don't know if I can handle it this time, and want to exhaust my options before doing anything radical... SpoilerIng this(was orignally ment for discord) cuss i doubt any one actually wants to read trauma dumps and venting from random people they don't know. (should also mention im a male) My boyfriend of 2 years, the first and only person who showed affection to me ever in my miserable life of 23 years has broken up with me. It was online only, sure, people will say that it's barely a relationship at all, but it was my first, and his first, and the love we felt, the dreams of future we had, the sweet moments we shared, the games we played, the time we spent together, was definitely and unarguably the most wonderful time of my entire life, I was bullied for my whole life, before meeting him and still after. I don't know, maybe I'm so stupid and shy and introverted that I am like a magnet that brings people to get a kick out of bullying me. But he was the first person who showed me affection, who didn't outright refuse me, he allowed me to be with him and he allowed me to flourish and to show him in not something that's equivalent to trash... I seduced him and we proclaimed love for the next 2 years... We had our ups and downs, every relationship does, a lot of it was my fault, being stupid, needy, borderline yandere even, or not understanding boundaries too well. Some of it was his, he admitted to being sadistic and manipulative, tho the 2nd one could also be attributed to me too I suppose. It was unstable at times, red flags, sure I knew about them, but we were learning, and maturing as we did and the turbulent relationship was growing more and more calm and steady while keeping the lovey dovey stuff all the same.

Hell, we even were laughing and smiling and proclaiming love on voice and camera for the first time in a while just 3 days ago, I bought cute stuff to show off, a small gift for Christmas to him, who enjoyed my pictures, but then the same day, 4 hours after when we were going to sleep he said that he felt that he doesn't love me anymore, Lots of tiny details that are of lesser Importance, just my fuck ups again I can't keep promises, I suppose that's true, it was loosing weight through workouts, which I did for half a year before going to studies and doing them less and less and less. While having much better results through dieting, but that's a lot of details that probably aren't important to the story I honestly don't even know what to say, I am starting to regret writing this in the first place, but I'm so desperate for anything, anything to feel warm again, I guess it's forcing me to make decisions I'll regret later. I'm desperate for something, anything to fill that gaping hole in me, I was crying and couldn't sleep and vomiting for entire night, then getting bullied at school for being so sad on lessons, and then being hurt that I can't text him good morning, or ask him how's hes doing, or just chat in general about random stuff. I have none to share my thoughts with. Even if not a romantic partner,( it will be hard to replace him for I dont know how long I don't even want to replace him in the first place). I just want someone to just like... Be able to text.. human contact... I guess even an unsocial beast like me needs it, now after being so used to it and taking it for granted for 2 years, and it goes away. I have no resistance to loneliness like I had before I met him... I want to laugh, I want to feel warm, I want smile, I want to feel happy again, and I want to feel affection, even if not romantic, outside the internet, or rather, outside of him, it feels like the world is so cold and that everyone hates me by defualt untill I prove myself otherwise... Justified, I don't trust people too much either considering how the abuse to neutral to friend ratio is currently 80-19-1 or even more skewed. I regret writing this and I don't want to post this, I might post this on another day as this is written, when I build up courage. I doubt this will help me, if anything it will make me embarrassed to show my face anywhere any more. I don't expect results from this, I don't expect anyone to talk to me, I don't expect anyone to replay "poor you" and I most certainly don't expect anyone to want to be my friend, or whatever normal people call someone that they can talk to and chat about life with, my life is so boring, I like to listen about what people with interesting life's have to talk, or occasionally chat a snippet of something cool that happens to me. Or about games even. Interests, anime, fuck, even politics if that's the only thing left. I am mearly screaming into the void in public and fully expecting people to tell me to just shut the fuck up. (I'm sorry if any of this is completely not understandable, while English isn't my first language it is still better than my native. This is an issue with me just not knowing how to communicate with people. And mearly pouring my thoughts into paragraphs worth of text trying to keep them self contained and more or less bite sized.) If anyone insane enough to read this and wanting to interact in depth, Sashaa_8318 is my discord... considering i was orignally planning to release this on a discord server for a small community i was part off... uh.... but i pussied out and uh, chatgpt told me tumbler is good place for this long of a post.

[blackberry-mochi]

cw: lots of complaining and acting terrible over loneliness and dissatisfaction I promised before that I would stop myself from complaining out in the open, because holding myself accountable to a promise usually works, but apparently that strategy is only moderately effective and has a distinct time limit, much like everything that influences me, I guess. I have been able to just go "no, I need to be quiet" for the past month and a half, and that's worked, even if it's admittedly felt terrible reinforcing the decision, but. Y'know. Sometimes you're trying to write something you want to write, and that something includes jumbled up people finding help and love, and sometimes you zoom out and get struck with an intense and gross pain from realizing, oh, right, this is just escapism; none of these positive feelings are coming from a realistic place; I shouldn't feel relief or joy from any of this. 

The scenarios I'm writing aren't even fantastical or unrealistic, though. The scenarios are based on patience and unconditional love existing, which are two concepts that do exist in some folks' lives. But it's escapism for me, absolutely. And that feels awful. Love this awful feeling.  Love watching other people in the world finding out they have problems and obtaining help for said problems, like that's something normal and basic and they're obviously allowed to have that. Love having this dead-end and unnecessary life. Love that getting professional help wouldn't even fix my life anyway, so I shouldn't care about my lack of help. Love that the primary issue is that I'm stuck living with abusers, and I love that I've wasted too much of my life to have any opportunities to change that. 

Love that, even if an opportunity to change my life were presented to me, no, I'd almost certainly pass. That sounds terrifying, after all. Getting away from my abusers sounds terrifying. Trying to actually live and develop into a real person instead of some miserable and abusive jackass sounds impossible. I don't want things to change, I guess. What a pathetic and annoying bit of blatant hypocrisy, huh. Love being this way. Love the way it feels to be trapped by both myself and the miserable circumstances of my life in general.   And by love it, I mean, god is it one of the worst feelings imaginable. It feels like absolute isolation and hopelessness. And the feeling is made all the worse with the knowledge that, y'know, circling back and looping all of this miserable garbage, even if I were willing to leave, there's no opportunities available to me to even accomplish that to begin with. But that's not very special, is it. It's honestly really privileged of me to complain that I'm not in a better situation, considering how the only problems I apparently have are an empty day-to-day life and a general feeling of being trapped with abusers who have always undermined me as a person and undercut the potential value of my life.

Whatever, right? The entire reason I said "I should stop complaining" is primarily because I know that complaining only makes people hate me, ignore me, and block me. I'm an exhausting person to look at and acknowledge. Just so uncooperative and histrionic and unpleasant. But the less selfish and less manipulative reason for shutting up is that, no, the only thing in my life that matters is my family. 

Nobody online matters. Nobody I'm marginally connected to actually exists to me. Nothing I can say or do online could ever have a tangible impact on my life. Nothing's going to affect my life in any real way, nothing besides my family. My stupid family of 12 that's left me incompetent and unpleasant thanks to abuse and neglect and abuse and neglect and abuse and neglect. I can't blame my family for all my problems, though, right? I'm the one who decided to give up to begin with, so it's my fault I'm so darn unsalvageable. Even if, I don't know, I was 8 or so when that decision was made, that's a fucking excuse, right? Clearly a fucking 8 year old should be held accountable for being a selfish and depressed piece of shit, right? So fucking immature. So fucking annoying. So fucking disconnected from reality, dreaming of a fantasy world, acting like they have it worse than anybody else in their goddamn family, begging for attention when they're just a spoiled brat.

And now, as somebody who's apparently just as mature as they were when they were 8, what does talking about any of my problems do except spread my negative feelings, something that bothers absolutely everybody that I force into giving me attention? I'm only talking about this because it feels awful keeping all of these rancid feelings to myself because, again, god, being lonely sure is the worst feeling in the world for me. But what does this ranting do? Nothing! It doesn't accomplish anything! It does nothing except invite and encourage people to ignore me, which is the only reasonable response to my utterly selfish and annoying and impossible-to-help behavior. Hate it. Hate having a completely disposable and unwanted life. Hate being an awful person who constantly has awful urges that compel them to do awful things to avoid or mute the worse feelings they're stuck with, feelings they only have because they're awful to begin with and deserve to feel awful. Hate it. Hate being a problem. 

Hate looking at myself from afar and knowing without a fucking doubt that I'm the kind of person that everybody should/will ignore and hate for being so goddamn overwhelming emotionally but unnecessary and unremarkable. So, even if anybody did reach out to me and try to help, I shouldn't accept it. They'd end up hating me at some point, no matter what. It's already happening, after all. The evidence is there. It's been there my entire life. So many relationships ruined by me being too fucking annoying and overwhelming and useless and dependent.  

But oh well. Whatever. None of this is new. Absolutely none of this. I've been thinking this way since I was 14 at least and ruined one other person's life by abusing and parasitizing them for four whole fucking years of our life, just because they wanted me to feel less sad. I guess the reason I'm saying all this right now, though, is because I'm so fucking angry at the fact that my emotions and feelings are so fucking absurd in the worst ways possible, both egregiously overwhelming and frustratingly underwhelming, because apparently being robbed at gunpoint and being abused and ignored by everybody surrounding me afterwards isn't something I'm capable of having clear and resounding feelings about. All I know is I feel fucking exhausted. That's all. That's really the sum of my feelings. I hate it. I hate having such a broken, defeatist brain. All I can do is type out the way I want to feel, but I barely feel that way. It's pathetic.

Wow, great, amazing, my bank sure did decide that I wasn't robbed and therefore don't deserve any insurance or whatever after a person held me up at gunpoint and stole my phone and wallet. No, you're right, whoever the fuck investigated my claim. I did willingly give that person everything on me and I did willingly let them empty my bank account. We're best friends or something, obviously. And you're right, abusers, I did deserve this and God obviously caused this, as a sign. A sign that I need to go study cyber security and make the world safer or whatever fucking inconsistent bullshit I've been peddled over and over that never goes anywhere because my abusers are fucking self-righteous and disconnected from reality thanks to how perfectly privileged they are, acting like any of their random ideas for fixing my life are anything but fleeting wishes based on ignorant delusions based on looking at their kids and going "Why are you so much worse than me? What's wrong with you? Why can't you just be better? You're smart enough. You're just lazy. You don't deserve anything if you're going to be this lazy. Why did I have to be so unlucky and have 10 children who are so damn lazy, God?" 

I was expecting this result, though. I complained when it happened. I said "I know I'm not going to be reimbursed" and "I know my abusers are going to abuse me for getting robbed", and what do you know! That was right! I was hoping I was just being overly pessimistic, but I wasn't, hooray! I'm fine financially, though, so whatever. I still have my job, so whatever. I'm alive, so whatever. The robber didn't gun me down, so whatever. It would've been nice if that had happened, but whatever. The robber was never going to do that. I wouldn't be surprised if the gun had been fake. I was simply robbed because somebody decided to rob somebody and I got unlucky. Dying absolutely wasn't a part of that unlucky situation. Just robbing. I guess that's why I only feel exhausted. I just want to move on from this bullshit because the only thing that can be done is to keep going, as always. Ignore all my problems because nothing can be done. Just keep living. Because I don't have the capability or willpower to change anything in my life.

It's just so exhausting. Putting in so much effort to make sure I can still pay for nearly $500 worth of debts a couple days after being robbed completely was exhausting. Being notified that I wasn't getting any of my money back was exhausting. Having my abusers message me and harass me for being rejected compensation was exhausting. Knowing that my entire life revolves around my abusers is exhausting. Everything is exhausting. And if everything's exhausting, it's hard to know what does and doesn't matter. It's hard to be angry. I'm too tired to be angry at my life circumstances. I hate it. I wonder how I'd feel if I just had my own bank account, though. A bank account that my abusers couldn't look over constantly like hawks, judging me for fucking everything I buy and questioning me at least once a week on whether I should be buying any of the things I buy if they aren't food and fuel and debts. Maybe that would be nice. But if I did that, my abusers would absolutely hurt me for it, because they want to keep track of me, because I'm incompetent and lazy and they have to make sure I'm working because the only valuable part of me is that I can work without any limiting factors apart from sleep deprivation, exhaustion, and depression, three things that have never been respected and have only ever invited abuse from everybody around me my entire life. Frankly, it's stupid of me to act like those factors exist. They've never existed. I'm just lazy. I'm bad at sleeping. I'm bad at sleeping. I'm so goddamn bad at sleeping. Stop playing on the computer every night. Stop lying in bed for 12 hours a day and only getting 4 hours of sleep at best. It's the video games. They're the reason you're not getting enough sleep. And tea. And all the food you eat. And the fact that you stay up at night. Stop staying up at night. Go to bed at a reasonable hour. Stop being a useless leech. You're just irresponsible. You're not sleeping for 12 hours a day. That's a lie. You're just lazy. Shut up.

But yeah. It really would've been nice to not wake up a week and a half ago to see that all the temporary credit I was given was taken back with the explanation "Our investigation led us to conclude the transactions made to your account were done with the permission of the account holder". 

I guess I don't mind, though, like I said, like I've been saying over and over and over again, like I want to feel fucking furious over. I'm too exhausted and disconnected from my life to care, apparently. Whatever. I felt so fucking stressed when I saw that result, but now I don't feel anything except the feeling that I should be feeling something, but I feel nothing, so I guess my brain is broken, so whatever. I didn't need that money anyway, so whatever. It's not like I'm saving up for anything. It just would've given me a chance to stop working for a while if I ever felt like being self-destructive and lazy. My abusers would abuse the shit out of me if I did that, though, so that wasn't even an option, so whatever. Nothing's changed. I haven't actually lost anything. I'm just acting like a histrionic child. 

Y'know, this is so stupid to complain about, isn't it. It's pathetic. It's so irritating to listen to. It's so privileged. I'm in a privileged position, clearly, super clearly. I can still pay for rent and all my other monthly debts despite being robbed and ignored, so whatever. I'm not in any trouble because I practiced frugality and acted so darn responsible right after the incident, without any help from anybody, because I had no other choice, so whatever. I didn't have to experience whatever my abusers plan on doing when I'm too lazy to maintain my meager financial independence, so whatever. My life is perfectly fine, so whatever. Everything is perfectly fine, so whatever. The only problem is that I'm bored, so whatever. Just so bored. Plain ole boredom. That's all this is. So whatever. 

It isn't emptiness. A concept like that is ridiculous. It's delusional. That's so melodramatic. Shut up. You're just a selfish and lazy brat. 

I'm just so goddamn selfish. I want to be given things I don't deserve. What a miserable and shallow waste of space. But whatever. As long as I shut up, whatever. I need to shut up, so whatever. If I don't shut up, then people will reject me, block me, hate me, and, most importantly, feel worse than they would've if I just never took up space to begin with, if I never existed, so whatever. I hate that. But whatever. The best thing I can do is shut up and disappear, and whatever. I don't deserve to have a voice. It's cruel that I have one. I hate it. Whatever. 

Whatever, whatever. Everything's fine. I just feel awful. The feeling of hopelessness and abandonment that's apparently intrinsic to my day-to-day life is unbearable, and it keeps ruining my attempts to write some childish and delusional fanfic that only interests me, but whatever. It's just a stupid and tedious-to-read fanfic, so whatever. All I'm doing is just complaining about nothing and then saying whatever. Whatever. I don't want help. I don't want sympathy. Neither of those things actually exist for me. Whenever anybody's ever offered it, it's never helped. If anything, it's made everything worse. Everything is always getting worse. And whatever. I just want to complain. Complain and complain. That's the only thing I've ever been able to do, besides overwhelm people with my intense and ugly persona. Just complain and complain, with a disgusting side of obsession, dependence, desperation, and hate. 

Sorry for being annoying and cagey and isolated and rude and complaintive. That's who I am. Always have been. Just a bitter and angry person whose only redeeming qualities are based on delusional hopes that make them act strange for an indeterminable amount of time, hopes that inevitably pass because my life hasn't moved a goddamn inch at any point ever, hopes that ultimately make me a worse person every time. They're ephemeral hopes that invariably result in everybody around me liking me for a second before realizing, oh, this person sucks, wow, really don't want to see them anymore, gosh, really need to stop talking to them, this was a mistake. Like you, the reader of this, presumably. You're just like every other person I've "gotten to know" after the recent extremely strong and fucking moronic delusion of "maybe I'm allowed to be loved and wanted", as fucking pathetic and ridiculous and melodramatic as it is to have THAT as a wish. A wish that's all the more pathetic when given the context that my repressed state before that hope appeared suddenly was the result of me abusing the shit out of my first and only partner in 2018 and leaving and realizing oh my god I really don't fucking deserve to exist huh, I'm just so fucking insufficient and incapable of beauty huh, I'm just so fucking ugly and awful huh, I'm just so boring and miserable and incompatible with everybody in this goddamn world huh, I'm a selfish and miserable abuser masquerading as a kind and considerate person, huh.   

I'm aroace and completely incapable of loving people in any way whatsoever thanks to disorders that just make me an irredeemable and empty parasite. I can act like I love people. I can believe that I love people. But I just don't have it in me to actually love anybody. So that wish was ridiculous. It was such a stupid wish. I really needed to trash it the moment I remembered, "oh yeah, I have BPD, so nobody can or should love me, and I'm going to die at some point soon, so what am I doing, why did I think this was okay, I should stop, I need to be quiet". 

But I didn't! I didn't give up! I kept going! Like a selfish pest! Isn't that great! Fucking fantastic! It's so fucking stupid to keep up my charade after that realization! I made some stupid art with a mouse for a good-enough reason, and then I had a breakdown and remembered I'm inherently abusive and awful and ugly and obsessive, and it all went downhill from there! I didn't stop, I kept making things, and everything only got worse and worse and worse over time! Loved working on so many random things with the constant, nagging thought "this is hopefully the last thing I make. I'll die after this. Hopefully" until I just gave up on art! Too bad I couldn't follow through on my plan at all! Too bad I'm still alive! But at least I'm not making anything anymore! At least I'm completely fucking irrelevant and unwanted now! That's great! At least things are logical now!

Again, though, I really should've given up as soon as I remembered how flawed I am, a month after I started opening up. But that was only a month later, y'know? There was a whole month of sincere hope and happiness and joy in my life, so of course I was going to act extremely selfish and cling onto stupid delusions like "I can be loved, maybe", despite everything pointing to the contrary. And whatever. I'm a miserable, desperate loser, and whatever. I clung onto stupid things that I had no right to cling onto, and whatever. As always, whatever. My favorite word, "whatever". An incredibly useful word for an abusive and ugly defeatist nihilist who has absolutely no hope or potential for rational hope in their life. Whatever. Things suck and my circumstances are perfectly fair, I'm just a noisy and useless child. 

The only thing I have to add to my usual complaining about my mental illnesses is just, looking up my symptoms to make sure I'm not mistaken on my disorder really is such a mixed bag in terms of catharsis, huh. On one hand, I do feel some amount of understanding and certainty whenever I read through research documents that explain causes of BPD and the statistics of people who have BPD, even if that understanding admittedly usually comes from reading the more depressing stats and going "yeah. It makes sense that people like me are 50x more likely to commit suicide than usual, doesn't it" with no real relief, just acknowledgement. But on the other hand, y'know, having BPD sure does make you a terrible person, and everybody knows it. Anybody talking about it in Quora certainly thinks so anyway. And elsewhere. Everywhere. In every spot that isn't occupied by people with BPD. And I guess I'm partially aroace to avoid that reality, maybe. That has to be a part of it. I am aroace, without a doubt, but a part of that identity is absolutely the result of trauma and fear. Forming any sincere connections with people will always just result in me either disappointing them and disturbing them and abusing them. It really is best to just shut up and stay isolated forever. Hate it. 

Hate it, hate it, hate it. Hate it. Hate it. I hate it so much. Hate these feelings. Hate having no relief. Hate deserving nothing but rejection and hate. Hate having a life that's statistically meant to be over by now. Hate that it's still going. Hate that I can't control any part of my life. Hate being given a life that's nothing but a joke, literally. Hate only existing so two miserable and pathetic abusers could gloat to everybody about how they have 10 kids. Hate this. Hate everything in my life being meaningless and empty and disposable. Hate feeling exhausted. Hate feeling trapped. 

Whatever, though. Everything's fine. I'm still alive, and I'm likely going to keep going and going and going, so whatever. I'm not disowned and homeless yet, so whatever. Maybe once I'm finally disowned and homeless, I'll deserve anything, but, as an abusive, hollow, useless, joyless, loveless, annoying, contrarian loser, I doubt that I'll be given anything when that inevitably happens. I actually just deserve rejection and hate, for everybody's sake. Sure, logically, it's terrible, it deserves sympathy. Being disowned would drive me into a total psychotic breakdown, because insecurity is the scariest concept in existence for a parasite like me. But who cares about logic and expected sympathy? It'll be a good thing if I'm completely rejected and abandoned. That'll push me towards dying, so the insecurity will be justified. It'll be appropriate. Can't wait. Can't wait to die when I'm fully abandoned and disenfranchised. So excited. It'll be great. Hate it. Hate this. Hate everything. But whatever. Who cares. 

[fantisci]

Welp. That was...something.

Obviously, major spoilers for the Good Omens Season 2 finale under the cut.

I'm disappointed and a bit depressed by the ending, but I have to admit that I'm not really surprised. Something about this season just felt...sad. i know a lot of people spent 5 episodes happily squeeing and then got gut-punched by the ending, but, to me at least, there wasn't the playfulness and levity of season 1 - not even in the happier/more comedic scenes. There was always a melancholy undercurrent: Nina's relationship isn't healthy, Maggie's interested in Nina but the timing is off, the flashbacks focus on the intense loneliness of Crowley and Aziraphale's existence throughout history, Aziraphale's terrified he's a bad angel and he's going to Fall, Crowley doesn't seem to have a clue what he's doing half of the time...Lots of focus on insecurity, unhealthy codependence, bad timing and sheer miscommunication.

That said, I got unpleasant "gotcha!" elements from the way thinga played out, and I hate it when the writers prioritise wrong-footing their audience over story flow - hated it in Voltron, hated it in Sherlock, hated it in the umpteen webcomics I used to read in the 2000s. I'm not going to call it baiting yet - this season was clearly made with one eye firmly on a potential S3 - but with all the publicity, the impression we're left with is "This is a love story! Look, see these two protagonists who adore each other and who you're so invested in? Surely it's time for them to move their relationship forward?PSYCHE! - they're separated, miserable and everything is terrible! See these cute new characters who are clearly a parallel to our heroes, the ones we've focused a lot on in the publicity? PSYCHE! - they were never going to happen, becaise we wanted to make a point about meddling in relationships and sensible time frames after a break up!" (Admittedly, while anvilicious, the moral here was definitely sensible). "Oh but the antagonists, the ones who tried to wipe our heroes from existence last season? THEY get the cute love story and happy ending!"

I admit, plenty of fans saw the Ineffable Bureaucracy coming a mile off. And many point out - quite correctly - that if GO is a three season show following the beats of a love story, this is the second act break-up. I also suspect that, with the signiicant overlap between GO and Our Flag Means Death, the fandom's rabid reaction to OMFD's romantic cliffhanger may have inspired the GO team to bank on a similar reaction to secure season 3...but OFMD is aiming to put its fandom out of its misery in about a year and a half from its angsty ending. Good Omens had a four year gap between S1 and S2. If it sticks with that, I suspect viewer apathy and/or disillusionment may set in before S3.

All in all, I personally feel like I'll be able to enjoy S2 fully only after S3 arrives (and provided it's not equally/more miserable). Which smarts a bit after being so delighted and wound up about Crowley and Aziraphale's return. A waste of anticipation, if you will.

One thing I will say though, is that I believe the kiss was deliberately bad. (If you want to see a kiss where the actors REALLY look like they're being held at gunpoint, have a look at Red Dwarf's Season 7 episode "Blue"). Crowley's furious and desperate and heartbroken - his kiss is aggressive and unforgiving. Aziraphale is miserable and guilty and totally blindsided - he has no clue what to do, alternating between wincing away and pulling Crowley close. I don't think this is an "the actors are finding this tremendously awkward" kiss - it's an "these two characters are in a terrible headspace and between them, have all the romantic experience of a particularly naive potato" kiss. If Season 3 turns things around, I would expect Kiss Number 2 to be even more epic and heartwarming as a result of contrasting iuth this car-crash lip-lock...as long as not too much time has passed between seasons.

[gayspock]

la la la

whatever im being a sour git again. ifeel like its just getting harder and harder every day not to be a jaded, bitter fucking asshole over eveyrthing and i feel sick with myself or whatever. and wah wah wahhhh its not fair. who give a fuck. i dont know. like its just cuz even if u try rlly hard not to be what is even the point in the end. whats the difference any more when youre so insignificat nobodys ever going to notice.like itslike even if u try not to be its just hard. fighting back just fucking being angry and upset all the fuckingtime because it just comes at you so fucking fast over nothingggggg. and trying to stop it . just maes yourself more miserable and exhausted as u reppress it all into some deep fucking hole inside of you .

and its sort of funny and ironic cuz u knowwwww it'd be more of a reason for people to say oh this is why youre alone and no one likes you cuz u dont try hard enough when trying hard never gets anyhting .etc. etc. just another reason for people to not come near you but like thatslike the crux of it rght. like wah wah wah woe is me itwould be so much easier to jsut try if any of it mattered when i but it never means anything so what IS the difference. alone and fucking exhausted or alone and fucking resented whats the point anymore in any of it . i tried to enjoy myself over the weekend but i jsut kept spiralling more often than i wasnt and sort of regret the wholefucking thing because its just a lot of wasted money . and yes i feel worse and fucking lonelier half the time out there. and man i wish hanging yourself was like actually easy to do effectively amen or whatever

wherewas i. hm. speakingof being a bitterjaded asshole this week. i just know people mean well by it but do you ever wanna scratch someones fucking eyeballs out every time they open the can opener on fucking mass produced platitude of the week to make everyone with sometihing tolive for feel better. i dont know. i thinkagain just. somethingsomething i odnt fucking care about trying with that any more my god the patronising way people fucking look down on you when you dont fucking submit to what they say immediately and have a different genuine fucking reaction that isnt what they want because no . no if that was something that meant somehting to me or mattered to me then yes i wouldhappily care but it doesnt. does anyone feel wrongin the head but like not in a sickk evil twisteddd way justin a god im not fucking worth it as a person and i wish iw as deadbecause i wish i could fuckingrespond to this in a way that wasnt with fucking existential fucking dread but no matterhow many fucking tiems i choke on it i m telling you its never going to fucking mean anything to me why do i have to pretendjust to be taken seriously when thsts not even taking me seriously at all i feel so fucking angry and upset osmetimes cuz i dont know like

just like the end truth or whateverthat yeah dying is just the right thingfor me it always is always gonna be and theres never been anything anyone can actually say tothat . not really . but you cant even have that you know . im spirallingagain imagining the fucking years stuck in thishouse doing this fucking timeloop for forever i always on about this the fuckingneverending cycle of fucking mental breakdown thats never resolved and stacks on top thepiles of other shit never anyhting fuckingother than the fucking downward trajectory ofbullshti with no fucking hope of getting out. "oh theres always a way!" says the cunt and if you like analogies so much lets look at me down the bottom of a hole with no ladder, smooth walls, and no one in a 500 mile radius . yesss my positive outlook will save me . i keep imagining slitting my wrists in a funny way like can i open it upad stick a fortune cracker slip in there . i'd probs pass out before i get the chance but maybe the mere suggrstion?

the anywaysburger . lastthing . something soething ive been so detached from reality for fuckingyears at this point sorry i always feel like a fucking cunt blagging about it i feel like everyone made disassociation into uch a funny fucking bit at some point i just feel humiliated to even fucking . whinge about it cuz its probs not even realistc and im jsut falling on my fucking ass trying to come up with shit to spin to justify im like a fucking braindead rpick i don t know i feellike i cant even conceptualise my surroundings any more itslike whenever i get high its obviously so much worse but its like. i realise its like a constant, keyed down version of that that i dfont rememebr ever not having i keep waking up in the dead of night and forgettingwhere i am i go to work i come out its like ntohing else ever existed andthis isnt exisitngrigh tnwo and the second i tune in im gonna throw up and fucking try to chuck myself down the sdtairs in 3, 2 1

[tuesdaysinbed]

18 Jan 24

20 days since the last kiss with no end in sight. And another stupid fight, this time because of him giving me a hard time about looking to buy a lamp/lamp set for the bedrooms so we can have light in here aside from his one random desk globe he found. He made a point of telling me he can see which one of us is more frugal, I made a point of being confused why I work 50 hours weeks, pull in 6 figures, are bills are all being a paid, and can’t look at a lamp in peace since we don’t have some sort of agreement on a budget between us anyway.. just his emotions of when he feels like I’m over spending. He mentioned he showed me a spreadsheet he wanted to use five months ago, I pointed out that he had $48 in transactions today alone for random subscriptions that he apparently didn’t even know about, and it went from there. I made a comment that I didn’t know if he was ever going to get my point, but did he want me to try and explain again - he said no and went downstairs and play Xbox. We haven’t spoke since and I know next time we do, he’s going to take some big time about how he can’t believe I’m dragging on some sort of fight / silent treatment when he’s always been so ready to talk and approachable and why don’t I try for our marriage more? I’m not even going to waste the atp to explain that my silent treatment and lack of trying have a hell of a lot more to do with my depression and withdrawing away at this point in my life and not an ounce to do with trying to waste my time trying to punishing him.

I’m tired. Emotionally, it that even needs to be stated. I spent all day today thinking how odd it was that people can show up to work and be happy with people, but have miserable personal lives. And it isn’t Mitchell that has made my personal life miserable, it’s everything to do with me. Something about me has consistently been un-lovable, un-wantable, un-connectable with everyone in my life.. I’m beginning to feel desensitized to the confusion of it. Why should I be confused or shock of it? We’re going on past 33 years of relationships where only two people ever seemed to find anything consistently admirable in me.

And I feel stupid and frustrated. Thinking, like I suppose everyone thinks until they realize the great laugh of it, that marriage was going to be something happy that would reach some kind of joy in me. Settle this idea that I could be someone’s anything worth having. That someone would want me in their arms, in their bed, want to kiss me goodnight every night.

I thought about divorce and living the rest of my life in some sort of bubble of accepted loneliness, if it’s going to be this hard. But, I have a sweet kid. Mitchell is a great Dad and Clay deserves both of us, if he wants us. I don’t mind supporting the lifestyle if that’s wanted too, or worth anything (I’ve been told that it’s not)… And I don’t really give a damn anymore about what I used to think I deserved.. I don’t know if I deserve anything anyway.

Lord, mind keeping me warm tonight? I’ll try and it feel so alone.

[rentalboos]

Admitting you hated everybody when there are several people who care about you and are hoping your doing ok and have posts asking if your ok (from blogs you interacted with nearly daily) really goes to show how little you thought of the people who thought you were friends. It hurts knowing you never liked anybody that used to talk to you or was friendly to you.

Anon, I was being sarcastic, that's why I added the "that's why I spent 2 1/2 years of my life in that fandom" and the emoji! Sorry, I'm still getting used to using tone indicators, I guess that might've helped in this case.

Of course I liked plenty people in the fandom, otherwise I wouldn't have wasted my time there. I join fandom for connections and creating together and not much else.

Sadly, a lot of Persona 5 fandom was clout-chasing and elbow out mentality that went on behind the scenes and I did not care for and that did actively start making my last couple of months very miserable. I was not the only person suffering from that - there were several accounts I interacted with nearly daily, that were thinking of dropping out of the fandom as well for what shit went down behind people's fake smiles.

I don't hate everybody. I honest to God barely hate anybody. I can't give you perfectly rational reasoning either, all I can say is that when I deleted my Twitter, I felt relieved and I have waited for a while now for loneliness and sadness to kick in and it just doesn't. It's not about singular people, it's about wanting a clean break and to get out of a very bad dynamic, that dragged me down to the point where I was genuinely becoming depressed.

As for people wondering if I'm okay - I'm doing better than I have been in months, but I did not see what posts people might make about me because despite what other anon might imply, I am not checking Twitter at the moment. No one has reached out to me, no one has contacted me, all people have done is try to follow me here quietly. And no, I did not recognise any of them specifically, if I did, I would certainly not block every single one of them and consider them individually. I just saw them having Persona pfps and figured they're here because they expect Persona content that's not going to come.

I'm sorry you're sad about this. I the only thing I can give you, genuinely, is that I was having a shitty time and now I'm not and that's just a line I need to semi-enforce for my well-being right now. I mean you see the shit people throw at me after weeks of not even being present on their timelines and just vibing in my own little corner with Good Omens, Thoschei and Danganronpa lol At a certain follower count, people seem to think they're entitled to me and entitled to tell me how I get to behave, who I get to cut off and how I get to feel and that's just... sometimes too much even for our strongest soldiers.

[missingkittyfan]

YANDERE BARISTA OC X GN READER

warnings: yandere themes, mention of death (the loss of a family member), mentions of depressive episodes, obsessive thoughts, unhealthy mindset

Aaron let out a quiet sigh as he prepared the coffee for the customer, tiredly looking at the glass window - it's been a stressful day so far since he's been dealing with grouchy, unreasonable customers. Getting complaints about their drink not being done right even though he does it by order, making sure the ingredients are correct. He wished this shift could be over already, not really wanting to do anything else for the entire day. A lot of things were on his mind and he didn't know how to deal with this crippling loneliness ever since his mother had unfortunately passed away. Her death being for some reason unknown, no one really know what had happened to her exactly.

He walked over to the counter before setting down the warm cup of coffee down, glancing at the person and giving them a polite yet slightly strained smile. "Here you go, that will be $3.65." He stated, awaiting for their payment although the customer seemed to be- hesitant..? Aaron looked away for a moment as the two stood in silence. Finally, the male let out a nervous laugh as he scratches the side of his cheek. "Oh- err.. well, I- only have two bucks so.. maybe I can just give it to you now and next time give you the rest?" He replied, smiling awkwardly.

Aaron however wasn't amused, his smile twitching a bit but still tried to kept his composure.

"Ah- I'm sorry sir but that isn't.. allowed. You're supposed to pay full price now." he said, "I can just discard of the coffee and you can come back later and-" The man cuts him off by abruptly grabbing the cup, spilling some drops of coffee onto the counter. "Great! I'll see you tomorrow then. I promise to pay you later." With that the man exited the building leaving aaron with a baffled expression. He gritted his teeth, clenching his fist as he watched him leave. He was so close from just busting out of here and strangle him - dealing with parasitic people like him infuriates him. He hated his time being wasted.

He sighed, he shouldn't feel like this. Just one more hour and he'll be free to go! It's not like everyday this doesn't happen.

Aaron rested his arm onto the counter, almost hoping one person doesn't walk into here.

That was until his eyes lingered towards someone.

And that someone in question was you.

Of course usually he wouldn't focus on someone's appearance especially since he didn't quite have the luxury to focus on pursuing a relationship. He didn't really bother trying to. he thought himself as a unlovable person, likely to die alone and never having to live the life that he truly wanted. Not really having a goal and rather went with the ride.

It was sad, really - but he tried not fuss himself too much about it.

He continued thinking about what should he do besides laying onto the bed, feeling hopeless and miserable most of the time. The brown haired male watched you entering inside the café before giving him a warm.. smile.

A smile that he swore he felt his cheeks reddening up but brushed it aside and kept it professional as he greets you. "Hey, welcome! Is there anything I can get you on this fine afternoon?" He asked as you walked towards his direction, "Thank you and yes! I'm on my break so I would just like a iced latte, not really looking forward into eating something at the moment. Caffeine is all I need," you answered, laughing. "It's a slow tiring day don't you think? My dear co-worker has been kind of salty, giving me the cold shoulder. Some days aren't your day I guess!" You realized you were rambling, quickly becoming silent for a second. "Sorry- I've came here for a iced coffee not small talk .. I shouldn't put my problems on a hardworking barista like yourself, you seem tired and stressed even. Are you- okay?" You frowned, noticing the dark circles underneath his eyes. He looked like he hasn't been getting enough proper rest.

His eyes widen a bit, snapped out of his thoughts to realize your concern for him before shooting you a smile. "Ah- no no! it's fine, i'm fine.. I appreciate your concern. It's not often we get people like you so it's really.. refreshing. Thank you." he said, "I'll be on it now, don't wanna waste your time." He grabbed a plastic cup - preparing your drink as you patiently wait. You stared at the busy traffic in silence, watching few people on the sidewalk having a phone conversation.

He glanced at you for a moment, admiring your features. His lips curled into a slight smile, you were so sweet and graceful with your words and actions. Your charm beginning to draw him in, and yet- he didn't want to admit it nor deny.. but he knew for certain he was intrigued and wanted to know more about you. Wanted to know what's your name, your interests and dislikes.. and maybe more. "So, uh.. feel free to not answer but how come I've never seen you before? You look like a new face in town," he chuckled before muttering to himself. "A pretty one at that.."

You looked at him before a smile formed onto your lips once again, "Oh! Yeah- I've actually moved here a week ago believe it or not. It wasn't long before they had recommended this place that serves good coffee. The atmospheres looks so nice! I really love the aesthetic so I'm assuming they must be right after all." You replied, almost going on a tangent.

God your voice was soothingly pleasing to listen to, he could just hear you talk endlessly without getting tired of hearing it. You had such a way with words, he tried not to urge himself into trying to hear more from you after all you were just a customer. It would seemed weird if he had try getting more information as possible.. right? He wasn't that kind of person, if he wanted so bad to get to know you better he could actually just.. ask you if he can spend some time with you and not be creepy about it.. He didn't want to come off too strong already but.. this feeling, it was overwhelming and he couldn't get enough. He wanted more.

He wanted you. It was complicated and too much for him to take in.. is this what love actually feels like? The feeling of wanting to feel your embrace, your scent, and hearing his name flow off your tongue. If so, this felt amazing to him.

Aaron had finished making the iced latte, setting the cold drink down onto the counter. "That will be $4.65." He said before you nodded in response, taking out your wallet and placing the exact amount. He grabbed it from you and puts the cash into the cash register. "Thank you, I hope you enjoy your drink and have a wonderful day!" He smiled.

"You too!" You practically yelled, leaving the place as you took a sip of your coffee.

He placed his hand onto his cheek, watching you walk away out of view before coming into a realization. His smile slowly turned into a melancholic frown. "Ah- I haven't.. asked for their name." He sighed, "shit- why do I have to mess things up? I loss my chance.. what if they never come back again?" He looked down at the counter, staring into the reflection of himself. "I hope that's not the case.. I want to get to know them. I need to learn much more about them.." He said to himself. Aaron had himself found a new fixation, a goal.

And that goal was to make you fall over heels for him as much as he did for you - to make you his and him yours.

[bleachification]

2:13am

2:13am — not like you sequel

pairing: gojo x reader

warnings: drinking

summary: gojo is a lot better at expressing his feelings when drunk

authors note: this is a part two to “not like you” please read that before this to get a better understanding of the story!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It is seven in the evening, you’ve progressed — quite impressively — through three homemade americanos, and exhaustion has completely taken hold of you. Maybe it’s because you worked overtime — something Nanami constantly advises and advocates against. It could be caused by the splitting headache you’ve suffered since morning, that’s thanks to the ten too many drinks you downed the previous night.

In your defence, it was a rare moment of weakness and self-loathing, a foolish mistake that you will never make again — or so you say. The bartender certainly didn’t seem convinced while you slurred your way through those empty promises. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s the fact that you cannot stop thinking about a certain blue-eyed, white-haired, infuriating individual who shall not be named. Mainly because the mere thought of Satoru Gojo makes the head-pounding migraine worsen into a skull-splitting one. 

The marble counter is cool to the touch, a contrast to the mug in your hand. You relish the feeling as you gently lay your head on the kitchen island; the cold shock is just what you needed to reboot and finish the mountain of paperwork you’ve accumulated. The work is a welcome distraction from the silence in the apartment — your apartment — the quiet is familiar. You’ve lived alone most of your life, a fact that contradicts the sense of loneliness that seems to have wormed its way into your heart. You use that feeling to remind yourself that you don’t need him. You don’t even want him. After all, he didn’t want you either.

Son of a bitch.

You let out a small sigh and start typing up a new document: “Case File #2284C - Senior Sorcerer in Charge: Satoru Gojo.”

This is gonna be a long night.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

11:37pm. 

The harsh glare of your phone screen makes you wince as you sneak a peek at the time. Four and a half hours and the paperwork pile doesn’t even have a dent in it (the sleep-deprived part of you could have sworn it was laughing at you), but at least it did its job as a successful distraction for the night. 

You rub your temples to alleviate the headache you feel oncoming and decide that it is time to pack it up and get yourself a well-deserved rest. There isn’t a chance in hell you’d be able to finish all that work tonight without another three americanos — a precursor of cardiac arrest — or a severe dose of meth. 

You wonder what he’s up to. Is he just as miserable as you are? It’s almost laughable, really; the thought of Gojo brooding over the end of a “friends with benefits” relationship ( if you could even call it a relationship). Or if he doesn’t even care like his character suggests, is he indifferent to a situation that is killing you inside? Of course, he is; it would be a useless waste of energy to try to convince yourself otherwise. 

Enough. Satoru Gojo is no longer a part of your personal life; get over it already.

The shrill ring of your phone jolts you from your mopey stupor. The caller ID flashes a familiar name.

“Hey Nanami, is there a reason you’re calling this late?”

“I apologize. I just didn’t know what else to do,” He sounds worn out, more so than usual.

Shifting the phone to your left shoulder, you continue filing away the rest of your paperwork, “What’s going on?”

“It’s Gojo.”

Your heart stops.

“Wait… did something happen? Is he okay?! Nanami if he-” 

Nanami must hear the sheer panic in your voice because he hurries to reassure you, “No, he’s not hurt or anything, don’t worry. It’s just... he’s currently, in the simplest sense, fully inebriated.”

You pause. 

“What does he being drunk have anything to do with me?” 

“He’s a lot drunker than usual, and he keeps calling for you,” Nanami’s point is emphasized as you hear a snorting laugh belonging to a voice that sounds an awful lot like Gojo ringing out in the background.

“Pour a bottle of water down his throat and shove him in a cab; he’ll sober up by the morning. Problem solved, I’m not sure why you need me,” You’re frankly a bit irritated as the universe seems to spite you, constantly reminding you of the one person you’re trying to forget.

Nanami hesitates, “I tried. Believe me, but he refuses to leave because, and I quote, “I only go home with pretty girls like [Y/N], and you are not a pretty girl, Nanami.”

You stifle a laugh, partly because it sounds exactly like something he’d say (drunk or sober) and partly because Nanami sounded a tiny bit offended at the end. 

“He also refuses to tell me the keycode to his door lock, so even if he did happen to make it home, he’d end up sleeping in the hallways outside. So, please, I need your help; I’ll owe you one.”

A simple no would be so easy — the last thing you want to face at 12:08 in the morning is Gojo, never mind a wasted version. But as you eye the mountain of paperwork still sitting on your desk, you (albeit reluctantly) cave into Nanami’s pleas.

The keys are already in your hand as the door shuts behind you. 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As you step into the cramped dive bar, the first thing you’re greeted by is an intense blast of heat and the overwhelming stench of alcohol and cigarettes. A few seconds pass as your sight slowly adjusts to the dim setting; you spot Nanami in a far-left corner towards the back. It takes all your willpower not to turn around and walk right back out when your eyes land on him. Gojo’s back is towards you (you’re thankful, it gives you a few spare minutes to collect yourself), and he’s hugging — you squint — an entire bottle of very expensive whiskey. As you venture deeper into the building, the hazy atmosphere mitigates until you no longer feel dizzy from the smoke. 

Thirty feet.

Your pulse is racing. He hasn’t turned around.

Twenty feet. 

There’s a small (okay fine, a not so small) part of you that would really like to act on your fight or flight response, preferably the latter. Gojo still hasn’t turned around.

Ten feet.

Nanami sees you. He waves, and you feel your stomach drop all the way down to the point where you can’t breathe. Gojo turns around.

The first thing you notice are his eyes; the usual stunning blue is overshadowed by the redness, tinged by blood.  

“You look like hell,” there is no waver in your voice, a fact you are exceedingly proud of considering that at this moment, you desperately wish for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

“You’re here.”

Gojo vows to cut himself off right there and then, the half-empty whiskey bottle long forgotten on the bartop. He’s more of a lightweight than he thought, especially if drinking this amount would induce such vivid hallucinations. After all, there’s no chance you’re actually here. No way you’re standing two feet in front of him, looking all perfect like you always do, with an expression Gojo knows all too well. A pissed one. 

Gojo smiles because even though you’re just a figment of his intoxicated imagination, you still manage to make him happier. Lord knows he needs happiness right now. 

You’re freaked out. Freaked out by the dopey smile that’s been plastered on Gojo’s face, unmoving for the last four minutes. You’re freaked out by the sheer amount of alcohol he’s consumed — if the empty shot glasses and bottles were any indication. And mainly, you’re freaked out by the fact he just referred to you as “fake [Y/N].”

“Gojo, I’m taking you home. Come on,” your attempt to make your way to the exit is quickly thwarted by the arm wrapping itself around your waist. 

You freeze.

“Don’t go.”

You hate this. Maybe you even hate him a little, but now wasn’t the time to blame him for the bitter confrontation that ended with three weeks of radio silence and a broken heart (two actually, but you aren’t aware Gojo even has a heart to break). 

Before you can speak, Nanami interrupts and slings an arm around Gojo, supporting him as he starts pulling the drunk jujutsu sorcerer away. 

You follow a fair distance behind in case Gojo tries to touch you again. That one touch felt too good, too familiar, and it was making you feel a myriad of emotions you’d much rather keep bottled up and stored away in the deepest and darkest corner of your soul. Feelings that have no business being associated with anything even remotely related to Gojo.

Gojo.

The man who is currently trying his damnedest to escape the hold of Nanami and make his way back to you. He’s acting like the biggest child you’ve ever seen, squirming so much in Nanami’s arms; he’s practically being put in a chokehold and displaying a pout that would put crying toddlers to shame.

The sight before you would be pretty comedic in a different circumstance where it isn’t one in the morning on a Tuesday night, and you aren’t exhausted to the point of entertaining thoughts of murder.

Thankfully, before you resort to violence, Gojo finally settles into the passenger seat of your car with the aid of Nanami and the two water bottles he forces down Gojo’s throat. 

After bidding Nanami goodbye, you brace yourself to face the situation you’ve been running from for weeks. Then, slipping into the driver’s seat, you don’t dare to look towards him. Fortunately, he’s quiet. The water must have sobered him up at least enough that he wouldn’t fight you.

The drive to his apartment is basked in uncomfortable silence. You feel awkward, but it’s a better alternative to making strained small talk like strangers. Though you may as well be. It’s the worst at work, acting like you were never a part of each other’s lives. Days go by with the usual, passing by one another in the empty hallways like ghosts, barely speaking unless it was job-related, and even then, it was polite. Stiff. 

Better get used to it [Y/N]; it’s never going back to what it used to be.

He doesn’t speak until the car is parked.

“So you’re not a hallucination.”

“No, Gojo, I’m not. But glad to know you’ve thought I wasn’t real this entire time,” It’s such a simple sentence, but you find yourself checking to make sure you didn’t stumble over it. 

“I think I liked it better when I thought you were a result of my alcohol abuse,” He mumbles.

The walk up to his penthouse is short, and you’re hit with a sense of nostalgia as you press the numerical code into his keypad. 

Gojo follows you obediently into the living room and immediately drops himself onto the couch.

You make your way to the kitchen and double-check to make sure there are accessible sources of water for him, as well as food for when he throws up his stomach contents later in the night.

A cupboard on the far left of his kitchen houses aspirin, which you bring to the couch along with a glass of water. 

“Take these two in the morning and make sure to eat something later.”

“Why are you taking care of me?” He takes the glass from you, and his fingers linger on yours for just a second too long.  

“I don’t know,” and you don’t. You have no idea why you’re sitting next to him in his apartment, playing nurse at — you glance at your phone — 2:13am. 

He sits upright, and the change in position moves him closer to you. Close enough that if you shifted a few inches to the left, your thigh would be pressed up against his. 

It makes you dizzy.

Now you’ve definitely overstayed your welcome. After all, there’s no more reason to be here, Gojo’s safe at home, and you’re just a guest. A complete stranger.

You make a move to stand, an impossible task as Gojo latches himself onto you, his head buried into the crook of your neck.

How painfully familiar. 

“What exactly...do you think you’re doing?” You curse the breathiness of your voice.

“Hugging you.”

“I can tell,” you reply wryly.

You can practically feel his smile, “Why aren’t you pushing me away?”

“Would you like me to?”

“Not particularly, but you were the one who ended it.”

You let out a deep breath and softly push him away, noting the resistance as his arms fall back to his sides. Now facing him, you cross your arms to ward off his physical intimacy. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t push all this on me. I had my reasons for ending it,” This is the second time tonight you’ve taken pride in a steady voice. 

He’s staring straight at you, and there’s an emotion in those crystalline eyes that you’re not brave enough to decipher. Although you like to think it’s pain, the small part of you — the bad part— wants him to suffer just as much as you did these past three weeks. 

The logical part of you knows better. Knows he doesn’t care enough to be hurt.  

“Would you care to share those reasons? I thought we had something great. Why ruin it?” He’s gotten closer; there are less than five feet of space between you. 

A step back. 

“Sure we did, but all good things come to an end, Gojo.”

“It didn’t have to. You’re deflecting again; why can’t you give me an answer? Why are you running away?” 

He keeps coming closer.

Another step back.

“You know, I don’t get it, Gojo. Why the hell do you care so much? You have plenty of other people you can see and-” 

“No, I don’t!” He’s staring down at you with an intensity that steals the breath right from your lungs. He’s close. Close enough to touch. Close enough that you feel his ragged breaths on the side of your face as he leans forward to whisper in your ear.

“There’s no one else. Just you, it’s only ever been you.”

You don’t take a step back.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” His voice is so soft you instinctively turn to hear him better. But, instead, the movement only brings his face closer to yours.

“Stop saying things that make no sense. What we had is over. It never meant anything to you, so stop pretending it did,” you hope he doesn’t move any closer; your nerves are already shot to hell. 

Fortunately, he doesn’t. Instead, he moves back until there’s a decent amount of space separating the both of you, and you can finally breathe again.

“Do you remember the rules we set before we started all— “He waves his hands around, “this?”

You nod, “Both parties are allowed to see other people, no visible marks are allowed, no one else is allowed to know and….”

“Don’t fall in love.”

“We put that in as a joke, Gojo,” You’re staring at the ground, so he doesn’t see the apparent hurt plastered on your face. 

“And what if it isn’t?” 

Your head shoots up, and you frantically search his expression for any hint of a lie. There isn’t one.

“You’re drunk,” you swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself not to cave in to his pretty words. You want to believe him; you want to believe him more than anything. But you’ve known Gojo since you were high school students; you know him better than anyone, which means you know he’s the complete opposite of someone looking for love. 

“Whose fault do you think that is?” He’s closing the distance; every step closer is pushing the knife deeper and deeper into your already bleeding heart.

You shut your eyes to avoid his gaze, and you don’t realize you’re crying until he brings a hand up to cup your face, brushing your tears away in the process.

“That day you left my apartment, after that fight, I told myself it was for the better because you deserved better. So I deluded myself into thinking everything was okay. As long as you were happy, I would be okay. Then I saw you with some guy at that bar we used to go to. So as soon as the thought of you actually leaving occurred, I...well, you saw what happened tonight.” He presses his forehead against yours as he speaks. 

You let out a laugh, “That was my cousin, you idiot.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” you give him a slight grin.

“There it is. I missed that smile. Missed you.”

“That was corny as shit,” you’re smiling like a maniac now.

You missed him too.

“So, what now? You gonna declare your undying love for me, and we sail off into the sunset?”

“That doesn’t sound half bad. Nanami would kick my ass for leaving him to do all the work though,” he’s smiling as well, and it warms your heart.

“How about we start over?”

“I can live with that, but I’m starting with a kiss.”

"Tomorrow when your breath doesn’t stink of vodka and cheese.”

Gojo’s brushing his teeth first thing the next morning. 

[babymetaldoll]

Danger Days - Chapter thirteen: "Screaming infidelities"

Word count: 15,4K

Summary: It's Gubler's birthday and like the title says, someone will fuck it up.

Warnings: Cheating, cursing, angst, hurt, pain, alcohol, mention of oral sex.

A/N: Kids, I'm sorry. I didn't want to do this, but... it's done. Please don't hate me.

Masterlist

Chapter one | Chapter two | Chapter three | Chapter four | Chapter five | Chapter six | Chapter seven | Chapter eight | Chapter nine | Chapter ten | Chapter eleven | Chapter twelve | Chapter thirteen | Chapter fourteen | Chapter fifteen | Chapter sixteen | Chapter seventeen | Chapter eighteen | Chapter nineteen | Chapter twenty | Chapter twenty one | Chapter twenty-two | Chapter twenty-three | Chapter twenty-four |

---

::: Paris, March 1st, 2011 :::

Joey stared at the ceiling of her room and sighed. She was alone. It was already midnight. She was happy she finally had a room on her own, after weeks traveling on a bus with the band. They were in Paris, and she was weary. But still, she couldn’t sleep. She stared at her phone and sighed. Matthew had said “I’ll call you back” an hour ago, and still, he hadn’t called her back. That was killing her.

She hadn’t seen her fiancé in over a month, and they were both in different time zones, which made it pretty hard to talk. She was nine hours ahead. At the moment, she was fighting to stay awake to talk to him, but he wasn’t calling her. Would it be wrong if she insisted? Matthew was working… maybe Joey should just sleep. She was weary after all, too much traveling, too many shows. That tour was fucking eternal, and she just wanted to go home.

The young woman walked to her bag, grabbed one of Matthew’s shirts, and put it on a pillow. Yes, she dressed a pillow in her boyfriend’s clothes. That’s how much she missed him. She could deal with loneliness ‘cos she was used to being alone. Still, somehow, she couldn’t deal with the loneliness that meant being far from Matthew.

- "It’s a good thing I decided to marry him then"- she said to herself as she stared at the ring on her finger.

A big part of her wanted to time travel and tell four-year-old Joey everything would be ok, that she was going to be happy after all. That she was going to manage to trust not one but two people. Her soon-to-be husband and her best friend, Mikey Way. If there was something she could cherish from being on tour with My Chem for months now, it was calling Michael James her brother.

Joey wrapped her arms around “Mattpillow” and smelled his perfume on it. Maybe it was better to text him and tell him she was gonna call earlier; it was… three in Los Angeles. If she set the alarm at six in the morning, she could catch him around nine. Yeah, that was much better.

- “Call you later. I’ll sleep a little, love you! Take care!”- she texted him.

::: Barcelona, March 5th, 2011 :::

Mikey, Ray, and Joey walked outside the arena, searching for the best sangria they could find before the show. Joey’s mom had sent them on that quest, repeating over and over again there was no way they left Spain without having tasted it. And considering it was alcohol, they didn’t argue a lot with Mrs. Sigmundsson.

- "Dude, I’m so fucking tired"- Mikey whined as he finished his hundredth cup of coffee of the day.

- "I know, I need a break from touring"- Joey said and yawned- "I wanna go home."

- "Me too"- Ray added and looked at his phone- "I miss my wife."

- "Oh, shut up!"- Mikey argued right away- "I don’t wanna go over this conversation again, you have someone you love, and you miss them. I don’t miss home, I have no one, end of the story"- Joey and Ray looked at each other and raised an eyebrow.

- "Is your underwear too tight today, or are you just being a little bitch because you want to?"- Joey asked right away, Ray chuckled, but Mikey didn’t think it was funny.

- "Shut up, Bug."

- "Not in the mood to be nice, then."

- "Nop"- that last “p” sounded like the end of it. But that wasn’t going to stop Joey.

- "Sorry, we are…"- what stopped Joey was her cellphone. Her eyes shone like diamonds when she saw Matthew’s face at the other side of the screen, waking up.

- "Yami! Good morning!"

- "Akumu!!!"- Ray and Mikey looked at her and walked a little faster to give her some privacy.

- "Is she still sleeping with the “Mattpillow”?"- Toro asked- "That shit is creepy"- and Way laughed, finally, he had been pretty serious that day. And the day before.

- "Yeah, that’s a thing. I’ve taken pictures I wanna use to blackmail her in case I ever need it."

- "Good plan"- Ray looked around. Joey was standing half a block behind, still on the phone- "Mikey, are you ok?"

- "Yeah, why?"

- "‘Cos you don’t seem to be ok at all,"- Toro felt it was his duty as a friend to tell what had been in his mind for the last couple of weeks- "Dude I’m sorry, I just… don’t think you… it’s shitty you are getting a divorce. I just don’t think you are taking it well."

- "Can you take a divorce well?"- Mikey simply replied, and that was enough to shut Ray up.

- "I’m just trying to tell you I’m here if you want to talk, and you don’t have to get so drunk every time we are out or whatever."

- "Is this an intervention? ‘Cos we had many those for Gerard back in the days. I can recognize an intervention."

- "No, Mikey! It’s not. Everybody should be here reading letters if it was"- Ray had a point- "I’m just trying to tell you, I’m here for you, man. And we can talk about anything."

- "I know, Ray… I just… don’t feel..."

- "You don’t feel like talking, I know, you haven’t talked about it, ever I guess… and I don’t feel that’s working for you. I’m scared and worried, and I’m your friend, I had to tell you."

Way and Toro stared at each other in silence for a few seconds. Mikey knew Ray was right; he had shut down from all his friends, basically for the last three months or so. Still, he didn’t feel ready to share any kind of thought or feeling with any of them.

- "Ok kids, around the block, there’s a place called “Las tapas de Pepe.” Apparently, they have a killer sangria"- Joey clapped and walked past them on her way to the bar.

- "Wait, how do you know that?"

- "Because, Raúl me enseñó muchas cosas nuevas, (Raul taught me a lot of new things)"- the two musicians looked at her frowning not getting a word, so the girl turned to them and smiled- "That guy over there, his name is Raúl. I asked for sangria, he gave me an address. Come on!"

Joey turned around again, avoiding looking sad in front of her friends. The truth was, she wasn’t doing that well about being far from Matthew. It was getting too hard. She was thinking about quitting. And every time she talked to him, she was feeling more sure about that decision. She never told him, though. She didn’t want to make him feel responsible in case she made a mistake leaving the job. She also didn’t want him to know how much influence he had on her, Joey didn’t want to lose power in his life, she didn’t want to stop being independent, but it was hard.

::: Germany, March 8th, 2011 :::

Mikey was sugar rushed, jumping around the bunks as the bus traveled from Zurich to Munich. He and Joey had bought most of the chocolates in Switzerland and ate half of them in less than two hours. They were in heaven. Sugar heaven.

- "Can you please stop it?"- Gerard yelled at them from his bunk.

- "Nope"- his younger brother answered and jumped like a kid on top of him.

- "Leave me alone! I wanna sleep!"

- "Fine. Come on, Bug, let’s get away from this loser"- his words were so childish Joey burst out laughing.

- "Get in, loser, we are going shopping"- Joey said and flipped her hair. Gerard stared at her walking away with his brother, and groaned as he covered his head with the pillow.

He was fucked.

The last month had been torture for him. Joey was now not even talking to him. Never. It felt she honestly hated him, and he knew he couldn’t ask. Lynz kept asking for her, and he was sure she suspected something was going on.

- "So, have you and the guys have fun these days?"- she had asked earlier that day when he called her before the show.

- "Fun like going out fun? No, we are too tired to move. These weeks have been killers."

- "So you are all just at the bus locked the whole time?"

- "Pretty much"

- "On each other’s faces?"

- "Yeah… I wanna kill Mikey."

- "And how’s Joey doing?"

- "Good… we haven’t talked much."

- "She hadn’t talked to you or you hadn’t?"- the singer made a pause thinking about that question, and most of all thinking what would be an intelligent answer to that.

- "We don’t share a lot"- that all he had- "I guess we don’t talk to each other"- he made a pause and lit a cigarette, walking on his own through the backstage- "Why do you ask?"

- "I don’t know, I guess you never talk about her, and I thought it might be because you have…"- Lynz made a pause to make her husband even more nervous- "A problem with her or something."

- "No, we don’t have a problem, we aren’t friends, that’s all…"

Now on the bus, Gerard closed his eyes, still hiding under the pillow, Joey’s laughter all around him, while Frank and Ray played video games. What was he going to do?

::: At the bus, close to Munich. March 9th, 2011 :::

It was Matthew’s birthday, and Joey was miserable ‘cos she couldn’t spend the day with him. But still, she set her alarm at eight am and locked herself in the back of the bus, texting him. She wanted to be the first one to sing happy birthday to him. And so she waited, looking at the clock.

She went through old pictures to kill time, watched part of a movie Mikey had left on the DVD the night before. Matthew didn’t reply to her text. And so she waited longer. Joey wanted to call him at midnight. She was nine hours ahead. Minute by minute, she waited. Until it was time. She smiled and dialed. Nothing. Again. Nothing.

- "Where the fuck are you?"- her stomach was made a knot as her brows furrowed. Third call. Matthew finally picked up the FaceTime call.

- "Yami!!!"- he yelled, wasted- "It’s a party!"- he pointed around and moved the camera of his phone like a maniac, making Joey dizzy right away. No wonder why he wasn’t picking up.

- "Happy birthday, Akumu!"

- "Hey! Hey!"- he tried to walk through a lot of people as Joey frowned, wondering where the hell her fiancée was.

- "Wild party!"- she said as soon as she noticed Gubler had locked himself in a bathroom to talk.

- "Yeah! The guys set a little surprise party for me"- he slurred and smiled- "I love you."

- "I love you too."

- "No, I love you more. Why aren’t you here?"

- "‘Cos I’m working, but I’ll be home in two weeks, so wait for me."

- "I want you here now."

- "I wish I was there."

- "Then quit"- Joey sighed. Arguing was useless; Matthew was drunk.

- "Hey! Akumu, is Paget there? Is she gonna drive you home?"

- "No, she’s not here."

- "You are not partying with your friends?"

- "Yeah, with the guys from the movie"- Joey raised an eyebrow, thinking she had no idea where Matthew was or with who.

- "Are you sure you are ok?"

- "Yeah, baby! It’s my birthday, we are gonna party like it’s my birthday!"- Joey’s heart ached at the thought of what could go wrong. But she loved and trusted her boyfriend, and she knew he would never hurt her.

- "Hey Matthew"- she said and looked straight into his eyes through the camera- "I love you."

- "I love you too."

- "I’ve got your heart here with me all the time"- she showed him her necklace, and he nodded- "There’s gonna be a present from me waiting for you when you get home."

- "Nice!"- Joey smiled, thinking it was probably Matthew wasn’t going to remember that conversation- "Listen, Yami, someone is trying to get into the bathroom."

- "That’s ok, I’ll call you later, ok dorky?"- he nodded and waved, the girl kissed the screen, but he had already hung down.

Joey hated being in Germany at the moment.

Could Gubler be an asshole and cheat? No way, Joey trusted him with her eyes wide shut. But he was hot and drunk, and she was sure there were more than just a couple of girls trying to get into his pants. If the guys were there- his friends- she wouldn’t even worry about it. But they weren’t. He was with some random people from the set she hadn’t even met.

Soon the regret of their last fight came to mind. They weren’t mad at each other, but perhaps… no, there’s no way he would be an asshole because of that stupid fight. It was a silly fight for her. Was it serious for him?

A few nights before, Matthew had gotten mad at a conversation with Joey ‘cos she didn’t want to change her last name. That’s what he picked from the conversation. She just said she didn’t think it was necessary to do so. He didn’t take it that well.

- "What’s the problem with changing your name?"

- "I’m just saying the tradition of women changing their last names after they marry it’s a bit old fashion. It makes me think women are still treated like an object that “belongs” to a man."

- "So you won’t change your last name?"- the girl frowned, staring at Matthew’s wide-opened eyes on the screen.

- "That’s not… do you want me to change it?"

- "Yes! of course, I do! you are gonna be my wife!"

- "So? If I’m still Joey Sveinbjörndottir after we marry, I won’t be your wife?"

- "That’s not what I meant"- Gubler was more frustrated than he had felt in months over any conversation they had ever had. This time, it was serious.

- "Then what is it?"

- "I’m just saying you should change your last name ‘cos we will be married, and I’d love for you to be Mrs. Gubler."

- "I will be your wife, isn’t that enough?"

- "Why do you always have to be so fucking independent?"- Matthew just yelled- "Can you just try to understand I want you to be mine? My wife! And I want everybody to know it!"

- "So you wanna put me on display?"

- "No!! Fuck no!!"- Matthew was tired and defeated. It seemed that stupid argument was more about a bunch of little things that had grown inside his head instead of just about the last name.

- "Why can’t I be independent? Is that a bad thing?"

- "No! It’s a good thing! I just... "- Matthew bit his tongue and sighed, trying to rearrange the thoughts in his head. He needed to make sure whatever he was going to say would explain his feelings clearly.

- "You just?"- Joey asked, standing in the middle of the hotel room she was staying at that night. She just stared at the wall, thinking she had no idea what had gotten into her boyfriend’s head.

- "I just don’t feel you need me sometimes."

- "What? Are you crazy?"

- "No, that’s what I feel. Are you gonna blame me for feeling?"

- "Well, you are being silly!"

Joey was real angry at him at the moment. Everything he had said hurt her. It seemed he had insulted all the kindness and love she had given him when it was very hard for her to show her feelings and let someone into her heart.

- "What is it that you want from me, Matthew? Do you want me to be needy and clingy? ‘Cos you know that’s not who I am!"

- "I know that! I just sometimes… it feels like you’d be great without me."

- "What?"

- "Like you don’t…"- but the girl didn’t let him continue.

- "Don’t say you feel I don’t love you!"

- "I know you love me."

- "Then?"

- "You don’t depend on me the way I depend on you"- the drummer was in shock at those words. Did he depend on her?- "You leave me here, you tour the world, you are happy, I’m here, I miss you. Every time we talk, you are shining… meanwhile, I am here, dying, waiting to be with you!"

- "First of all, you could come!"

- "I’m working too!"- but Joey cut him off and continued.

- "Second, who says I don’t miss you? Just because I’m not crying when we talk doesn’t mean I am not miserable! Matthew! What the fuck are you saying? I fucking love you with my whole life! I hate being here when I could be there with you at this very same minute doing anything together, even when that anything is staring at the wall! But I have to work, and I happen to love my job, the same way you love yours! You can’t blame me for not quitting!"

Joey bit her lips as she stared at Matthew at the other side of the screen. She was making her best not to cry. She had never been so mad at her fiancé before.

- "I just…"- he tried to continue, but his voice broke- "I feel like I’m going insane here without you"- tears fell from his eyes as Joey wiped off hers from her cheeks.

- "Matthew, I miss you too! Fuck! I’m going crazy, just like you! I want to be there. I wanna kiss you! I wanna make love to you! But… you can’t ask me to be someone I’m not! Can’t you just be happy your girlfriend loves you, misses you, and will marry you as soon as she finishes touring?"

Gubler sighed and stared at her.

- "I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, Matthew Gray Gubler. I don’t care about the last name. I don’t care about anything as long as you are beside me."

The young man sighed and cut her a short smile.

- "How do you always end up making me feel like a dork for getting mad at you?"

- "‘Cos I’m gonna be your wife, that’s my job"- she chuckled, and they stared in silence for a few seconds.

- "I love you so much, Joey."

- "I love you more, Matthew Gray."

That had been days before. Was Matthew still upset at her because of that? No way. He didn’t sound mad at all. He was just drunk and happy to celebrate his birthday.

- "You are overthinking this ‘cos you are far from him"- the girl reassured herself out loud and looked at the screen again- “Love you dorky”- she typed and sent her boyfriend a message. That was something he couldn’t forget.

The girl stayed still looking at the TV in front of her for a few seconds, but the knot in her stomach was too tight, and the thoughts in her head were too scary. She felt sick, scared, anxious.

Joey was jealous, shit!

She ended up puking in the bus’s tiny bathroom, just like every time she felt seriously distressed.

- "Hey, are you ok?"- Gerard found her on the bathroom floor, flushing, pale, and a little weak.

- "Yeah…"

- "Are you sick?"

- "No, I just… I’m ok."

- "Sure?"

- "Yeah, I just need an herbal tea. I felt dizzy all of a sudden"- she held the hand he offered her and stood up.

- "I’ll put on the kettle"- Joey stumbled a little as she walked with Gerard to the front of the bus.

- "Hey Bug"- she heard Mikey’s voice as he opened the curtain of his bunk. She slowly moved over and sat next to him- "Did you talk to Matthew?"

- "Yeah, he was wasted"- and Mikey chuckled.

- "That’s my boy."

- "I didn’t like it."

- "Come on, he is a good kid. He will probably drink his liver away and then go to bed, have a killer hangover, and talk to you until either of you falls asleep like he always does."

Mikey reassured her, and the girl chuckled, nodding. Her friend was right. She was still dizzy, though, so she carefully laid down next to him and felt his arms around her slowly.

- "Bug, you are freezing."

- "I’m ok. Gerard is making me an herbal tea… I should do it, actually; he ain’t my nanny"- the girl tried to stand up, but Mikey held her.

- "You should get into your bunk for another while. You might be getting the flu."

- "I’m ok, trust me"- she finally stood up and smiled at her friend.

- "Here, take my hoodie."

- "Thanks… it stinks."

- "But it’s warm, does the trick"- she smiled and put it on. Gerard had just left the cup of tea on the table. She walked over slowly and cut him a smile. An honest and nice smile.

- "Thank you, Gerard."

- "You can call me Gee, you know"- she nodded and sat down by the table.

Gerard sat in front of her, sipping his fresh cup of coffee. The two of them were quiet. Joey was thinking about Gubler. What was he doing at that very exact moment? Why wasn’t she there? How would it have been if they were together? They would probably be naked in his bed. And that would be great. It would be way much better than what she was doing at the moment, sitting on a bus staring at the window.

- "Are you sure you are alright?"- he whispered, and she nodded again- "Do you wanna go back to bed? I mean bunk."

- "No, I’m fine here… besides, we should be getting ready…"- she stayed quiet and looked outside- "Where are we?"

- "Munich"

- "Great… we had a hotel room here, right?"

- "Yeah"

- "Finally!!!"- she raised her arms, and he chuckled- "I need a real bed."

- "Me too."

- "And a long fucking bath"- he nodded and looked into her eyes. They were stuck in the cup of tea again.

- "We’ve got the Valencia gig in a couple of days."

- "Right! The MTV streamed no stressful at all show in Spain"- he chuckled and nodded.

- "Nervous?"

- "Not really"- she lied, the fact MTV was going to stream the show was freaking her out, but at the moment, she didn’t care that much. Her head was back in Los Angeles. Her phone hummed, and she quickly grabbed it. “I love you too,” Matthew had written, and a deep sigh came from her lips. Gerard was going to ask something, but not a word came from his lips. Instead, Jeff - their tour manager - opened the door and smiled.

- "I got you an early check-in at the hotel."

And those words were music for Joey’s ears.

That day was hell for the girl. The good thing was the band didn’t have anything to do but play the show, which meant: movies with Mikey and Frank, the best way to keep her head busy from thinking the worst.

- "I’m bored"- Frank whispered as he played with Joey’s hair, who was laid next to him.

- "We have to leave for the show in a while"- Mikey whispered, half awake, half asleep.

- "Great"- the girl murmured, eyes glued at the screen- "I’m hungry."

- "You just ate."

- "I’m bored. Boredom makes me hungry."

- "Come on, let’s get something to eat"- Frank grabbed Joey’s hand and stood up- "I need to move from this bed, or I’m gonna die of boredom."

- "Can you bring me some ice cream?"- Mikey asked from the bed as Joey and Frank put on their shoes.

- "Nope, if you want something, you gotta come with us"- the girl smiled at her friend, who didn’t move.

- "Damn it! Fine… I won’t have ice cream."

- "Good for you, see ya!"

Gerard was just done jerking off in his bed. He wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t have much to do. He had tried to make music, but shit wasn’t working. He had thought about calling his wife, but it was five in the morning in Los Angeles. He was miserable. He wanted to find a way to end his agony. But all he could think about was Joey walking around the bus in her pajamas. Joey sleeping in the back of the bus in those shorts and a tank top. Joey curled on a couch reading Edgar Allan Poe. His cock was killing him, and his hand hadn’t been enough. He wanted her so bad it hurt, and masturbation just wasn’t enough anymore.

He wanted to tell her that he loved her. That he was willing to make her happy. But he knew he couldn’t do either of those things.

- “Come live with me and my wife, ‘cos polygamy ain’t illegal or whatever.”

The singer sighed and looked at the ceiling, toilet paper all over his hand, cleaning the mess he had left.

- "You have issues, dude"- Gerard said out loud and closed his eyes. Honestly, there was nothing he could do but to love the girl from a safe distance and hope for his feelings to fade as soon as the tour was over.

Way didn’t want that tour to end because he didn’t want to be apart from Joey. In fact, Gerard was starting to feel obsessed. He hated it, but still, he didn’t know how to stop.

Frank kept laughing like a kid as he and Joey sat at the hotel’s roof deck. He was drinking a beer and smoking while she finished her second ice cream.

- "Mikey Fucking Way"- she argued, frowning- "Because of him, I can’t stop thinking about getting ice cream."

- "You are so fucking high in sugar"- Frank added and grinned.

- "I know! It’s gonna be hell when I get my sugar hangover."

- "I can kiss your temples if that helps"- he answered and winked at her. The girl smiled and raised an eyebrow.

- "Why are you such a flirt with me, Frank Anthony?"

- "I am not a flirt!"- he answered, nearly insulted, but still chuckled after a few seconds as his friend stared at him right into the eyes.

- "Come on! We’ve been friends for a long while now. You are always such a flirt with me. Are you like this with all the girls?"

- "Define like this"- he answered with a lower voice and made his best to look as hot as fuck.

- "Just what you did, you are adorable and hot and cute and all innocent. Why are you like that?"

- "Why? You don’t like it?"

- "I love it, it’s so fucking funny and cute, like you. But sometimes it makes me wonder if you are like that with all the girls…"

- "Why?"

- "’Cause I know you are just my friend, and you can be as flirty as you want; I know it’s a game. But what if you do this with someone who doesn’t get it as I do… then what?"- Frank stayed quiet, looking at his friend. Then took a long drag from his cigarette.

- "What if I’m just a flirt with you?"

- "I surely doubt it"- Joey quickly answered, laughing- "I’ve seen you flirt with basically 99% of the girls we’ve met this tour. You just don’t notice it."

- "I haven’t!"

- "You do, Frank, that’s why I know you are harmless"- that frustrated the guitarist, though he knew he wasn’t going to get any with her anyway. She was his friend; he loved his wife. He just thought Joey was hot.

- "Tell you what, I like flirting with you ‘cos you are cute, and you don’t get nervous"- Iero simply confessed.

- "Of course, I don’t! You are my friend, and this is like…"

- "The nature of our friendship?"

- "You just read my mind, Jersey"- the two of them stayed quiet and smiled.

- "I would hit on you if I wasn’t married, though"- Joey burst out laughing at those words, but Frank just smiled- "I mean it."

- "I know."

- "If I wasn’t… and I did… do you think I’d stand a chance?"- the girl blushed and finished her ice cream.

- "I’d say you would if Gub wasn’t in the picture, of course. We could have gone out on a couple of dates, have fun."

- "And fuck like bunnies"- Frank added, and Joey hit his arm.

- "Dude, you are my friend. Friends don’t fuck."

- "What? So friends make love? besides, we are talking about an alternative universe that will never happen!"

- "Shut up!! You are gross!!"- Joey covered her face with both hands as she shook her head- "You are so fucking funny Jersey, I’m glad I met you."

- "I’m glad I met you too, Iceland. You should stay forever"- she smiled and nodded.

- "I’m not going anywhere today."

- "I mean, you should sign to be a member of the band, like… one of us."

- "One of the guys?"

- "Yeah"- she smiled and held his hand.

- "You are taking this relationship too fast. We’ve been together a few months. We haven’t even moved in together. I don’t think we are quite there yet."

- "You live on my fucking face, Iceland"- Frank laughed and pushed her- "Which reminds me, you have to do your fucking laundry."

- "Yeah… I swear I’ll do it in Spain, while you do all the press and I have the hotel all by myself."

- "You know, sometimes I hate you for that."

- "For not having to do any interviews?"

- "Yeah… I hate those things."

- "Why? 'cos you have to sit in front of a microphone for hours answering the same fucking questions, over and over again?"- she said, smiling.

- "Fuck you."

- "I’m sorry!!"- she laughed, and he grinned- "I bet press sucks, but it comes hand in hand with being a rockstar."

- "I hate that too"- he said and scratched his head, stubbing his cigar in an ashtray- "I just wanted to make music. I don’t know where everything else came from. Sometimes I wish I could stop it all and go home, be with my babies, with my wife."

Frank suddenly had gotten too serious and too deep, something Joey knew was like the comet Halley: it happened once in a lifetime around her.

- "Why don’t you stop?"- she innocently asked, mostly ‘cos she had thought about stopping herself.

- "I don’t know, it’s like… you somehow got trapped in this machine, and it won’t stop working, and if you take a step back, it all collapses…-" he looked at his hands as he spoke, but Joey held them and smiled.

- "I don’t think anything is gonna collapse if you stop doing tour after tour for a while"- she whispered- "There are more important things in life than concerts, you know."

- "Name one"- he said and looked into her eyes.

- "Your kids"

- "Nailed it"- and Joey burst out laughing- "It was too easy!"

- "Exactly, nothing is more important than the ones we love, so shut the fuck up and man up! ask for a break every once in a while, ‘cos this leg of the tour, I must say, has been misery for all of us."

- "I know!"- Frank gesticulated in the most Jersey Italian way that always made Joey laugh- "It’s been hell!"

- "The only good thing of it all, other than the money, I mean"- she said and chuckled- "It’s the fact I can call you my friend."

- "Awww, Iceland. You could have called me your friend from day one, even when I hated the guts out of you."

- "Why did you hate me, by the way?"

- "‘Cos I wanted to do you so bad I didn’t want you in the band"- Frank simply answered, and the drummer raised an eyebrow.

- "Are you joking?"- by her face, Iero could tell the comment hadn’t been the best he had done.

- "Of course, I am!!"- no, he wasn’t- "I just didn’t want to make a circus out of the fact you are a girl. I knew people would start making up stories, and Jamia would be nervous and jealous because of you… having a woman in the band back then meant a mess I didn’t want to deal with."

- "And why did you change your mind?"

- "Mikey forced me"- Joey nodded, and Frank smiled- "And Jamia was really into you from day one. She loved the idea of adding a girl into the tour ‘cos there weren’t enough women in rock… but mostly ‘cos I told her your boyfriend was the hot guy from Criminal Minds, and I swear, she nearly yelled. She wanted me to friend you so she could meet him."

- "I’m in this band ‘cos your wife thinks my soon to be husband is hot?"- and Frank nodded- "I owe Jamia more than I thought I would. Maybe I can send her a picture of Matthew naked"- Frank raised an eyebrow as Joey smiled- "You know she is gonna love those."

- "But he is so tall… he is gonna make me look bad"- he joked, and Joey laughed like she hadn’t laugh that whole day.

- "Of course, he is. But in your defense… he could make every single fucking man on earth look bad. Have you seen his feet?"

- "Joey!! Shut up!!!"

Matthew woke up on his bed, his head killing him and a complete blur of what his night had been. He just sat and scratched his head.

- “What time is it?... wait, how did I get home?... fuck!! What happened last night?!”

The young actor nearly jumped as he started to recap his birthday party. The cast from the movie had arranged a party in a local bar, he was really happy about it, though he almost declined it. He was tired, but his co-star convinced him it was a great idea to go out, get to know everybody a little better, and start his birthday celebration.

- "Oh fuck"- he grunted- "My fucking head is killing me…"- he reached out for his phone and found it on his nightstand. He had a few unread messages from Joey

- “I love you Akumu!”- he smiled right away- “Remember to leave a bottle of water by your bed to keep you hydrated”- and he had indeed left one there- “Save some birthday belated celebration for my comeback in a few days.”

- "Honey!"- his mother’s voice took him from his head as he looked at his bedroom’s door

- "Mom! What are you doing here?"

- "Happy birthday, honey!!"- he stood up and walked over to hug her immediately.

- "Mom! Thank you so much for coming!"

- "I had to come, I have to give you something"- the actor frowned- "This came into the mail for you a few weeks ago, but I had to wait until today to give it to you"

Mrs. Gubler smiled as she gave her son a box. It was completely hand-drawn with jako lanterns, cute skulls, ghosts, and hearts.

- "What is this?"

- "A present that you got from very far away, or so it seems."

Matthew grabbed the box and sat on his bed to open it. Inside, there was a letter from his fiancé, a couple of gorgeous kimonos, Japanese books, art, a few Halloween shirts, and unmatching socks. Matthew was speechless, staring at the box. It was amazing.

- "I can’t believe this"

- "Joey sent it when she reached London, and we agreed I would bring it to you today."

- "Thank you"- he moved over and gave her a hug.

- "Don’t thank me for coming over on your birthday, honey. I love you, thank the girl at the other side of the world who gathered everything you might love and shipped it to you on your special day"- she kissed his cheeks and stood up-" I’m gonna make you breakfast, and you are gonna take a shower ‘cos you stick, are you still drunk?"

- "No mom"

- "Then call your wife! And thank her for the presents!"

- "Yes, mom!"

Matthew grabbed his phone, smiling, and dialed Joey’s number. It rang once. It rang twice. He was about to give up and try later when the girl picked up and smiled at the other side of the screen.

- "Birthday boy!"

- "Baby! You are amazing!"- he quickly said and laid back on his bed- "I just got my presents."

- "Did your mom give you the box?! did you like it?"

- "Hell yeah! It’s amazing, thank you"

- "Did you like the kimonos?"

- "They are the softest!"

- "I know!! I was in shock! You can hang them in the kimono closet!! So when you get home, you can get naked, grab a kimono and just relax!"

- "Are you gonna be naked under your kimono too?"- the girl giggled nervously.

- "That’s very likely"

- "I like that idea. Where are you?"

- "Backstage warming up, we are playing at eight… did you just wake up?"

- "Yeah…"- he whispered and closed his eyes.

- "You were fucking wasted last night."

- "I thought you didn’t notice"- he answered, chuckling, still feeling uneasy about his wild night out. It felt off. Probably ‘cos he was way too hungover.

- "Matthew Gray Gubler, I’m gonna be your wife. I know when you are drunk, you can’t fool me even if you tried your best"- the actor laughed softly (laughing also hurt) and nodded at Joey- "Wait, the guys wanna say hello."

Matthew saw Mikey, Frank, and Ray appear and waved at the camera.

- "Happy birthday, dude!"- Ray said smiling- "How’s the hangover?"

- "Killing me!"

- "Save some liver for our party, man!"- Mikey said and waved too

- "Hope you have a great day!"- Frank added.

- "Thanks, guys!"- Matthew said and waved, yet his eyes were glued at Joey, who kept looking at him with a warm smile.

- "Where’s Gerard?"- Mikey asked and looked around. Gerard. Gubler frowned immediately. He hated him deeply, and he hated the fact Joey worked with him.

- "He was smoking outside"- Frank answered and waved again at the screen- "See you, Gubler!"

- "Bye guys!"- the band walked away, and Joey was now again all alone- "Hey, gorgeous"

- "Hey, wild party beast. What are you doing for the rest of your birthday?"

- "I’m not leaving this bed"- Joey laughed and looked at him in silence for a couple of minutes.

- "I’m gonna be in that bed with you in twelve days, can you believe that?"

- "I’ve waited so long it seems to be an eternity, but at the same time, it feels like it’s gonna be tomorrow."

- "I know exactly how you feel."

- "Honey! breakfast!"- Matthew’s mother yelled from the kitchen, making the young man laugh.

- "I am ten years old again, or was that just a strong flashback?"

- "Go eat, I’ll play a show, and I’ll call you from the hotel, ok?"- he nodded and smiled.

- "I love you so much, Yami."

- "I love you more, Matthew Gray “birthday boy” Gubler. Talk to you in a couple of hours."

The actor hung down and sighed. He felt happy to know he had her in his life. That she was gonna be his wife. As he thought about it, he started going through some of the pictures from the night before. He remembered half of it, but it felt like he had fun.

- "Fuck!!"- he shouted and wide opened his eyes.

Maybe a little too much fun.

Matthew stared at the screen in shock. There was a picture of him kissing two girls at the same time. Two. Girls. Kissing. Him. At. The. Same. Fucking. Time. And it didn’t help when he noticed, one of those girls was his ex-girlfriend.

- "Shit! Shit! Shit!"- he kept going through the party pictures, shots, laughter, his ex kissing him while they danced. Bunch of people, more people laughing, his ex and her friend kissing him again.

- "Fucking shit! What the fuck did I do?!"

Matthew’s heart was about to come out of his throat as he started deleting every single photo from his phone. Why were those there? Why did he do that? Who saw him? Where were those pictures now?

- "What the fuck did you do, mother fucker?! What else did you do?!"

Matthew couldn’t move. He just sat with the phone in his hands, thinking if he erased those pictures from his phone, it was like it never happened. But now it was in his mind, and he couldn’t stop the memories from coming back.

He was drunk and sad after talking with Joey. He had another shot and decided to go home, but his ex-girlfriend and one of her friends- part of the team of the movie he was filming- appeared and invited him to dance. Drunk Matthew didn’t seem to think it was a bad idea and joined them on the dancefloor. They danced, the girls started kissing. Gubler liked it and didn’t move away when they moved closer to him and started kissing with him too.

- "Oh fuck!!"- he wanted to kill himself.

But that wasn’t all. He wished it was, but it was all coming back now. His ex took him to the backroom.

- "No!"- Matthew yelled, widening his eyes- "No!"- he repeated, as his mother appeared running into his room.

- "Honey! What is it?! What happened?"

- "I fucked it up!"- he simply answered and didn’t move an inch

- "What are you talking about?"

- "Last night at the party… I ran into Annie, and she was with a friend and…"- the actor made a pause and scratched his head aggressively

- "Matthew?"

- "And they kissed me happy birthday…"

- "Matthew?"

- "And then… mom sorry, I can’t tell you this"- the young man tried to stand up, but his mother stopped him.

- "Matthew Gray Gubler, what did you do last night?"

- "I made out with them, and Annie gave me a blowjob"- he covered his face with both hands, embarrassed and regretful. He felt sick, dirty, gross. He felt like an animal, like everything he had always hated, like a man who cheated.

He cheated. And he wasn’t going to be able to undo it or even forget it.

Matthew broke into tears quietly at first, but his sobbing grew bigger, sadder, and more desperate. He hated himself, he needed to find a way to forget about what had happened, but he couldn’t. Instead, the memories kept coming; Annie kneeled in front of him.

- "Mom… I fucked it up."

- "Yes"- she simply replied- "You did, and Joey is gonna find out, no matter if you don’t tell her."

- "How do you know? Maybe no one saw us"- the actor was in denial and desperate to find anything that could keep him from dealing with the truth- I might have just dreamt the whole thing, maybe it never happened

- "Matthew?"

- "Maybe I can forget about it. If I don’t remember it, then it never happened."

- "Matthew"

- "Mom, I can’t tell her!"- he nearly shouted, nervous and grossed out by himself.

- "I didn’t raise a liar or a cheater"- the young man looked at his mother with watered-up eyes.

- "How am I supposed to tell her something like this? she is gonna hate me! She is gonna break up with me, mom. I know her."

- "You have to take responsibility for the things you’ve done, Matthew. You said you wanted to marry her. You can’t start that commitment with a lie."

- "She is gonna hate me… fuck, I hate me…"

- "Well, you brought it to yourself, Matthew Gray, so you have to fix it."

Gubler took a long shower and cried half of it. He couldn’t believe what he had gotten into. Or why. What had gotten into him to get so drunk ‘till the point of letting his ex-girlfriend give him a blow job? That wasn’t him. He remembered he felt bad after talking with Joey. He knew he couldn’t stop thinking she was touring with Gerard and hated him. What if he had tried to make his move on her? What if she fell for him? She wouldn’t. But what if she did? They had been apart for so long. No, he trusted her with his life. She would never do such a thing.

Then why had he done it?

Matthew honestly wanted to kill himself. That’s how guilty he felt. He knew Joey was never going to forgive him, and he was considering not ever telling her. She was never going to find out if he didn’t confess. Maybe he could take it to the grave.

Mikey hugged Joey goodnight and watched her walk to her room. Gerard looked at them from the other side of the hallway. The girl waved at him, and he waved back.

- "Hey! What are you doing?"- Mikey asked his brother as he lazily walked over him, weary after the show.

- "I just wanted to know if you wanna hang out. James and Frank are locked in their rooms already. Maybe we can watch a movie or something. I don’t feel like being on my own for a while"- Mikey nodded at Gerard.

- "Sure, man. Let me take a shower, and I’ll be right there."

Originally, Gerard wanted to drag Joey along with his brother, ‘cos it seemed like the only way to hang out with her. But she had disappeared way too fast to make his move.

The girl took a shower, put on her pajamas, and dialed Matthew’s number. He didn’t reply.

- "Hangover man has to be hanging out with his mom"- the girl thought out loud and grabbed a book to kill time. He was going to call when he was ready to talk.

Was he?

Matthew saw his cell phone right and froze. His hands shook when he reached out to answer, and that’s when he realized he couldn’t. He wasn’t going to be able to lie to her. But he couldn’t tell her either. He was home alone. His mom was out, mainly to give him space to think and talk with Joey in private. But yet, Matthew didn’t know what to do or what to say.

- "Ok, she is the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, and you are willing to do everything that’s in your power to keep her by your side"- he said and looked at his reflex in the mirror and then washed his face.

- "Akumu!"- Joey smiled as soon as he saw him- "How was breakfast?"

- "Chocolate chips hotcakes with a whipped cream smile on top, and lots of coffee."

- "Spoiled by your mother on your birthday, lucky man"- he smiled and felt a knot in his throat.

- “Fuck! this is going to be so hard!” And how was the show?"

- "It was good, not the finest though… we are all so fucking tired"- the girl laid on her bed and smiled at her boyfriend- "When I get home, I’m not leaving that bed Matthew Gray Gubler, I’m gonna spend every second there... sleeping."

- "I’m not planning on sleeping if you are in this bed"- he answered and felt his voice shake at the end of the sentence, guilt taking over him.

- "You are gonna have to let me sleep at least a day. I’m so fucking tired and jet-lagged all the time. This tour ruined my sleeping schedule"- Joey joked but frowned as she noticed her boyfriend had tears falling from his eyes- "Akumu, what is it? Are you ok? Why are you crying?"

- "‘Cos I miss you"- he simply answered- "I miss you so fucking much! Can we just get married when you get here? I’ll pick you up at the airport, drive us to the nearest church, and we just get married right away"- the girl sighed with watered-up eyes herself as she stared at Gubler sobbing.

- "I miss you too… and I can’t wait to marry you either."

- "Can you promise me you’ll always be with me? No matter what?"

- "Matthew, I swear I’ll always be by your side"- the girl felt broken-hearted by the emotion in her fiancé’s words. She had never seen him so sad before, was it because she wasn’t there on his birthday?- "That is the main reason why I wanna marry you dorky, ‘cos I wanna spend the rest of my life with you, in one eternal Halloween"- Matthew smiled at those words and wiped off his tears.

- "Sorry, I’m just a little emotional… ‘cos I miss you, and I need you here."

- "I’m sorry I couldn’t be there."

- "No, Yami, don’t be sorry. You are working! And you are so awesome and incredible. I swear I don’t deserve you."

Matthew kept trying to stop crying, but it was harder than he thought. He was feeling so guilty, so low, the worst human on earth. And the girl on the other side of the world was just telling him she thought he was the best man amongst them all.

- "Yes, you do! You are an incredible man, hangover boy! I should be the one telling you how amazing you are, it’s your birthday! I want to make you feel happy all the time, please don’t be sad!"

- "I just need to see your face to be happy today"- he answered without hesitation and sighed- "You know what?"

- "What?"

- "I’m gonna tour with you."

- "What?"- Joey frowned and looked at how Matthew sat correctly on his bed and fixed his hair.

- "Yes, I will. I hate this. I hate being apart from you this long. So next couple of months, I’m gonna follow you wherever you go."

- "You’d do that for me?"- the girl widened her eyes

- "Joey, I would do anything for you"- Matthew made sure to pronounce every word as slowly as possible as he looked at her eyes- "So I’ll schedule plane tickets to be with you."

- "And your work?"

- "You are more important than my job. I can’t be like this anymore, we are gonna finish the movie in two weeks, and after that, my only job will be to clap after every song you play"- Joey smiled, feeling her heart swell with love, as a few more tears fell from her eyes.

- "You are making me so happy."

- "My plans for as long as I live exactly."

Mikey and Gerard were laid watching tv. Mikey kept surfing channels while Gerard sipped his diet coke and scrolled down his Twitter timeline. Neither of them felt like talking, pretty much ‘cos they were tired, and after being so many weeks stuck together, there wasn’t much new to say.

- "Weird!"- Mikey chuckled as they caught a Criminal Minds episode and Matthew as Spencer Reid appeared on screen- "I never thought I’d friend this guy."

- "Why did you do that? he is an asshole"- Gerard simply answered and kept his eyes stuck on the phone.

- "He’s not an asshole. He is hilarious. You’d like him if you met him."

- "Not interested"- Mikey frowned and kept surfing channels- "Wow, I thought you were going to watch your boyfriend’s show."

- "Wow, very mature, Gerard."

- "Sorry"- the singer knew he had crossed the line, mostly ‘cos he shouldn’t show how much he hated Matthew because…

- "Why do you hate him so much?"- because Mikey could start asking questions, and he didn’t want to talk.

- "I don’t hate him. He is not my friend, which is very different."

- "And Joey is not your friend either"- Mikey added- "You never talk to her."

- "She never talks to me"- Gerard added, and his voice betrayed him, showing some bitterness in his words.

- "Well, maybe because you didn’t want her in the band."

- "It’s been months. Get over it."

- "Now that I think about it, you are not even close to her at all…"

- "You are way too close to her, close enough for the two of us"- Gerard spit those words, still not looking at his brother.

- "What? Are you jealous or something?"

- "No!"- he snorted- "Why? Should I?"

- "I don’t know. You are being an asshole."

- "I’m just tired…"- Gerard came up with the worst excuse ever

- "Ok, if you are tired, I’ll leave you to sleep, dude, you are not what I call a pleasure to hang out with anyway"- Mikey stood up and walked to the door- "See you tomorrow at the plane."

Mikey left the room, and Gerard groaned, annoyed. He grabbed the remote control and surfed the channels until he found Criminal Minds again. He just wanted to see Matthew’s face to hate him even more.

- "What’s so special about this asshole? He is just a pretty boy, no talent, definitely no acting skills… He is tall. That’s all he has in his favor"- Gerard was arguing with the television out loud.

- "I mean… it’s clear he is not as smart as his character, and he ain’t funny either, shit! I bet he hasn’t done anything but this stupid tv show and those 3 minutes in the Wes Anderson movie."

Gerard opened google and searched for information about Matthew Gray Gubler, just to make sure he was a loser. He hated to know he wasn’t, though Gerard thought everything he had done had been pathetic so far. Everything but proposing Joey. And that was what Gerard hated the most. It was sick, and he knew it, that obsession he had about that girl, the one he couldn’t have. He just couldn’t take the idea of being with her out of his mind. Why? Was it because obviously, she didn’t want him? Many girls hadn’t wanted him before. Why was this one killing him slowly?

- "Oh fuck!"- Gerard nearly shook with his coke when he saw a picture of Matthew’s birthday- "Oh man!! I knew you were too good for my girl!!"- Gerard wanted to jump when he saw a picture of Matthew making out with a girl and the comment: “Matthew Gray Gubler birthday, 2011”.

- "You are going down!!"

::: Munich, March 10th, 2011 :::

Ray and Joey walked out of a Krispy Kremes at the airport, waiting for their flight to Valencia, holding a huge box of freshly made donuts. Joey was in heaven, and Ray was laughing at how excited she was about coffee and sugar.

- "Touring with you and Mikey together has been the best training to be a dad one day"- the guitarist said, chuckling.

- "Are you planning on having babies, dad?"

- "Yeah, it’s something me and Christa have talked about a few times. I want to wait until life gets a little bit less… messy ‘cos I wanna be with her the whole way and enjoy our babies."

- "Oh, dad, you are so cute"- the girl pout and punched his arm- "I want babies too, but I don’t think it will happen soon."

- "Why?"

- "Well, ‘cos I guess I want to wait until I have a steady job first."

- "And what is this for you?"- Toro gesticulated.

- "I’m your drummer for the tour Ray. The tour will end at some point, though it seems endless right now, and I will have to look for another job. And what if I get another tour drummer job? I’m gonna have to travel again. When am I going to be home with my husband to make and raise a baby?"

- "Well… after the tour you could be our studio drummer too, and you can stay in Los Angeles with Matthew and start making babies"- the girl chuckled at those words, though she liked the idea- "You should name your firstborn Ray though, I’ll put that in the contract"- both of them laughed and reached their gate.

- "Kids! Sugar!"- Joey’s smile shone as she gave Frank and Mikey the donuts box.

Gerard looked at her and sighed, thinking he wanted to tell her what he knew about Matthew, but it hurt him to know how much damage it was going to mean for her

- "Hey, Gerard!"- she snapped her fingers in front of him- "This one has your name on it. I figured you’d like a cappuccino cream donut."

- "Thank you"- he felt his cheeks blushing as he held the donut and smiled at Joey- "Sugar low?"

- "Yeah, my body needs some fuel to work until we reach the next hotel, and I can sleep some more."

- "Why? You didn’t sleep well last night?"- Gerard bit his donut and stared at Joey’s cheek turning red.

- "No, I stayed up talking with Matthew until three am."

- "Wow… really? Everything ok?"- Gerard’s heart beat a little faster with those words. She wouldn’t be so happy if she knew what Gubler was doing behind her back. Or did she not care? No, it was more likely she had no idea.

- "Yeah, we just miss each other a lot, and it was his birthday. I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, even on FaceTime."

- "His birthday!"- Gerard nodded- "Right, so he didn’t party or whatever?“Smooth dude, good”

- "He did, the night before with some friends from work, he was kind of hungover"- Joey smiled again- "So last night was our moment to celebrate."

- "Dude, please. I don’t wanna picture you and Matthew having phone sex"- Frankie showed up and grabbed Joey’s coffee- "I mean, you, that I can imagine, but him… not so much."

- "Jersey!!"- the girl frowned and smacked him.

- "What?!"

- "Stop being disgusting!"- he chuckled, and she took her coffee back from his hands

- "We all knew what you meant when you said you “stayed up talking with Matthew until three am”- Iero air quoted and laughed again- "We’ve all been there, I’ve been there like three times in the latest weeks."

- "Come on!!!"- Joey smacked him again and walked away. Frank kept laughing for a few seconds and finished his donut.

- "Hey guys, come closer"- Gerard whispered as he noticed Joey had walked away, probably to the bathroom- "I need to tell you something."

- "What?"- Mikey raised an eyebrow as he moved closer ‘cos his brother had whispered.

- "Last night, I was on Twitter, and this picture of Gubler appeared… he… he cheated on Joey at his birthday party."

Gerard had prepared the speech to make sure no one would ever know he had been looking for information about Gubler and saved the picture as proof.

- "What the fuck?"- Mikey grabbed the phone from his brother’s hand and took a look at the picture.

- "Are you sure that’s him?"- Ray moved closer and took a long look at the picture.

- "Yeah! It’s him! He cheated on the party Joey told us he had with his friends"- Mikey was in shock. He walked away and closed his eyes, thinking about Joey and how she would take the news. Frank was so mad. He wanted to kill that guy. He also walked away and murmured curses for a minute straight. Ray couldn’t believe it, and his only concern at the moment was:

- "We have to tell her"

- "How can we tell her that?!"- Mikey pointed at the phone- "We are gonna break her!"

- "He broke her!"- Gerard argued- "He is the one who fucked it up! We are her friends, and we have to let her know what’s going on"- the band stayed quiet, neither of them knowing what to say.

- "Hey kids!"- Joey appeared suddenly smiling- "Why did you all get all serious? Did something happen?"

- "Yeah"- Gerard said, and Frank quickly interrupted him.

- "I ate the last donut and didn’t share it"- the girl raised an eyebrow.

- "Bullshit."

- "No, Gerard wanted it, and it seems I tend to hoard all the sweets…"- Joey frowned at that nonsense.

- "You do"- Mikey supported his lie flawlessly- "You always eat more than us!"

- "Ok… sure…"- Joey walked to a chair and looked at her phone. Mikey turned to his brother and punched his arm.

- "Not here! Don’t be an asshole! We wait until we are in the hotel! You can’t do this in public!"- Gerard felt like an ass. His brother was right. He was so desperate to end that relationship he wasn’t thinking straight.

He wanted to end a relationship that wasn’t even his. What had he turned into? A cold-blooded asshole who craved a girl so much, he was willing to ruin her life to get a chance to be with her?

Mikey was playing with his fingers nonstop. He just wanted to get out of the plane and avoid Joey for a long while. He was thankful the girl was sound asleep next to him ‘cos he knew he wouldn’t be able to pretend things were cool and peachy. Mikey knew he was a lousy liar. He wasn’t going to act like everything was good.

- "Hey"- Frank waved and pointed to the back of the plane. Mikey stood up and followed him, there Ray and Gerard were waiting for them.

- "What is it?"

- "We have to talk about what happened. When are we going to tell her?"- Gerard said, and the four of them looked at each other in silence for a few seconds- "I know it’s crap, but we can’t leave her in the dark about it… can we?"

- "No man"- Frank said and took a look around, scared the girl might see or hear them- "But… she is gonna be a mess, and I don’t wanna feel like we did this to her."

- "He did this to her"- Gerard quickly replied- "This whole shit is his fault."

- "Gubler should tell her"- Iero added. He didn’t feel like he could do such harm to her friend. He was going to harm Gubler, but not Joey.

- "He won’t do that, Frank"- Ray said- "But… I don’t want to be a cold bitch here, but we’ve got the Valencia show in two days, and that shit will be televised… if we tell her… and she wants to leave…"

- "Dude, we can’t wait that long"- Gerard interrupted him.

- "Why not?"- Ray asked, and Way didn’t reply. His honest answer was: “Because I wanna hold her tight and tell her “everything is gonna be ok” as soon as possible. And I also want to ruin Matthew’s life in the shortest notice”.

- "Because if she finds out that we knew and we didn’t tell her, we are gonna pay. She is gonna think we betrayed her"- Mikey answered instead of Gerard, ‘cos he had a reasonable answer.

- "You are right"- Ray nodded- "And that would be hell"- the four of them nodded.

- "So? Tonight?"- Frank asked- "We should get her something…"

- "Like what? Flowers?"- Gerard asked, confused.

- "Like alcohol, chocolate, chick flicks"- Mikey frowned at his brother- "So you never helped a friend when her boyfriend dumped her?"- and Gerard stayed still- "Wow, you can’t cease to amaze me."

- "I didn’t have many girlfriends back in the days"- Gerard explained.

- "Whatever…"

- "Ok, so after dinner, we go to her room"- Frank finished, and they all accepted- "Ok, now let me go to the bathroom ‘cos I need to take a piss, come on, move it."

Ray looked around his room and sighed. He had called Christa and told her what was going on. He felt responsible for Joey’s wellbeing, and at that moment, he was scared of what would happen. His wife was in shock. She couldn’t believe Matthew had done such a thing. She even doubted it was real.

- "Are you sure that the picture isn’t photoshopped?"

- "Yeah!"

- "Really?"- Ray doubted

- "Well, it looked very real to me"

- "Why don’t you ask him?"

- "Yes, honey! He is going to come clean right away!"

- "I mean it, baby! Maybe it wasn’t a party, maybe it was a scene from his coming up film out of context, maybe it was a bad angle."

- "Christa, the tongue of two women were liking him at the very same time unless he is doing porn, there is no way that’s from his upcoming movie!"- Ray made a point, and his wife’s silence made it clear. Now he was walking in circles, trying to set his mind straight. He had never done this before, and shit, he didn’t want to.

The guitarist grabbed the Pride and Prejudice blu ray he had gotten that afternoon and sighed. It was time. He walked out to the hall and into the elevator. Just outside of Joey’s room, he bumped into Mikey and Frank. One held a paper bag with some chocolates and candies, and the other, a whiskey bottle. Of course, the whiskey guy was Iero.

- "Should we wait for Gerard?"- Ray asked

- "Nah"- Frank knocked and waited- "He is always late."

- "And you are always so on time"- Mikey joked and chuckled.

- "Hey! Ready for that movie?"- Joey opened the door smiling- "Say hello to Matthew!!"- the girl flipped her phone, and her boyfriend waved at the band.

- "Hey guys"- but neither of them smiled at him.

- "We are gonna watch a movie"- Joey turned and walked back- "I’ll call you in a while, ok?"

- "Sure, Yami. I love you so much!"

- "I love you more!"

- "Have fun"- Joey hung down and looked at her friends, narrowing her eyes, upset- "What the fuck is your problem?"

- "Bug, we need to talk"- the knock on the door interrupted Mikey, but Frank walked over quickly and opened it.

- "We are starting. What did you bring?"- Gerard frowns at that questions

- "You weren’t kidding? We had to bring something? Like a birthday party?"

- "Shit, you are an asshole"- Frank just shook his head.

- "Mikey, Ray? What is it?"- the girl sat on her bed, leg crossed, as Mikey sat next to her and held her hand.

- "Turns out we’ve got some news for you."

- "Am I fired?"- she wide opened her eyes in shock- "I am, right? Fuck I knew this was gonna happen eventually."

- "No, Bug, you are not fired"- Ray sat next to Mikey and smiled- "We are more than happy to have you here, and we would love to have you with us forever."

- "Yeah, Iceland, you are one of us now. Deal with the fact you are doomed"- Frank said and moved closer to the girl to mess with her hair.

- "Then?"- she asked and looked at the four worried faces in front of her- "What is it? ‘Cos it seems serious."

None of them knew how to say it, though each of them had practiced it in front of the mirror. And Gerard, the one who was anxious to say it, suddenly felt the remorse of being the one to break it on Joey’s face. He knew it had to happen, though. That didn’t make it less sad.

- "Joey, last night I found this picture of Gubler’s birthday party on Twitter"- the singer simply said and gave her his phone.

Mikey closed his eyes, and Frank looked down. Neither of them was able to face the girl at the moment. Joey just stared at the screen in silence for at least a minute, holding her breath. There he was, Matthew. Cheating. What she thought was impossible happened. And the most profound pain she could feel took over her body second by second.

Her world fell down. She couldn’t believe it. Matthew was kissing his ex-girlfriend. She recognized her right away, the other girl, she had no idea who she was.

He betrayed her trust. He destroyed her heart, she could feel it breaking inside her chest, with deep aching pain, and it didn’t let her breathe. She wanted everybody out of the room to cry alone. She wanted to smash Gerard’s phone against the wall. And most of all, she wanted to find an explanation, maybe an excuse for that fucking image. It was to be a lie. Matthew would never do that. Never. Thoughts kept rolling down her head. It was a lie. It had to be. Maybe a fan photoshopped it. Perhaps it was old. Maybe it wasn’t Gubs, just a lookalike.

- "Joey…"- Mikey whispered- "Are you ok?"

- "Is that the only picture you saw?"- the girl asked with a cold tone in her voice.

- "No"- Gerard murmured and frowned as he noticed the lack of emotion in Joey’s face

- "Can you send me the pictures, please?"- her voice was turning shaky while she made an effort to stay calm.

Joey hated to cry, and overall, she hated to cry in front of people. She hated when people pitied her, and at the moment, it was all she was feeling coming from her friends. Pity.

-  "Bug, it is ok to be sad"- Mikey said and held her hand tight.

- "I’m not sad, I’m mad"- her eyes were filled with tears she refused to cry. Her jaws felt tight. She didn’t even want to talk anymore.

- "Hey, we are here- Ray kneeled in front of Joey and tucked away some of her hair that was falling on her face. He kept his brown eyes in hers, locked, trying to read her reaction. He realized how much she was trying to hold back. He knew his friend pretty well, and he could tell how embarrassed she was to share this with everybody. So he whispered:

- "Joey, do you want to be alone for a little while?"- and she quickly nodded, biting the inside of her cheeks.

- "Dude, we can’t leave her alone!"- Gerard immediately said and hit his friend’s arm. But Ray didn’t leave Joey’s eyes, not even for a second, and she did the same.

- "No, she is going to be ok, we are going to leave her alone for a while, and I am going to take her key, is that ok, Joey?"- the girl nodded again- "Ok, so I’ll take your key. I’ll come back in an hour to see if you need anything, ok?"

Joey couldn’t even say a word, so she nodded one last time and looked at Ray stand up.

- "Dude? What the fuck?"- Gerard was in shock, but Mikey understood immediately what Ray was doing.

- "I love you"- the youngest Way whispered and kissed Joey’s cheek. She got even tenser at his touch. She felt she was going to break into tears if anyone else touched her. So she refused to hug anybody.

- "Bug, if you need a drink, I left your favorite whiskey on the table… I’ll stop by later to have a shot with you, ok?"- Frank whispered and cut her a short smile. She nodded and watched them walk away. Gerard didn’t want to move, he took a few steps closer and opened his arms, but Joey quickly moved from him and frowned, like a frightened cat trying to escape from everything and everybody.

- "Gerard, leave her, she is ok"- Ray grabbed Gerard’s arm and pushed him- "I’ll come back in an hour, Bug"- the girl watched them walking to the door, Gerard kept looking back at her, concerned and scared she wasn’t going to be ok on her own.

- "Dude, this is wrong"- he argued the second they closed the door- "We can’t leave her there! It’s not safe!"- and just then, Joey’s yells crying froze the four of them- "Give me the key!"- Gerard argued and tried to take it from Ray’s pocket.

- "No! She needs to be on her own! She needs to cry, and she is never going to cry in front of us!"

- "What the fuck do you know?"- the singer questioned obfuscated.

- "Calm down, Gee. Ray is right"- Mikey said and sighed- "Joey needs to be alone, she ain’t going to kill herself, she just needs to yell and cry, and probably call that mother fucker and break up with him."

- "Yeah, come on"- Frank tapped on Gerard’s back and started walking- "Let’s get a beer, smoke a cigarette, and we can come back in a while. Ray has the key, so we know she won’t lock herself alone."

Gerard hated his friends at that moment. He had to be there for her, hold her, kiss her, console her. What the fuck was he doing with those guys? She needed him. He had to be with her. Why were they doing this?

- "So you don’t care?"- Gerard squabbled, and Mikey simply sighed.

- "You don’t know how she is like…"- and his brother’s words were enough to insult Gerard and shut him up.

Joey was on her knees on the floor, crying. Gasping for air every few seconds and feeling how every tear in her body came out at the same time. There was a void in her chest, right where it used to be her heart. Matthew Gray Gubler broke her heart. He broke her. All the fears she had locked inside ‘cos Matthew made her trust were now out again, and a voice in the back of her head kept telling her, “You knew this was going to happen if you were stupid enough to trust someone.”

But he was so good for her. How could he do that? Was it something she had done? Was it because she wasn’t there? You can’t be stuck with somebody to keep them from cheating. You don’t cheat. If you are not happy, you break up.

Joey felt sick in her stomach and had to rush to the bathroom. She puked crying, she couldn’t stop doing either of them. She kept choking with tears as she vomited. Until it was done. She flushed and stayed there, on the bathroom floor, crying and shaking in sadness. In fear. In disappointment.

What was she going to do? She had to break up with him. She couldn’t marry a cheater, and she wasn’t going to trust him ever again. Two fucking girls at the same time. What if he had done it before and got caught just now? For how long had he been doing that? What if she was seeing other girls regularly?

- "I knew this was going to happen. You don’t date a guy like that and expect him to be faithful…"- the girl whispered to herself, weeping- "He had nothing to do with a girl like me. Take a look at yourself, you dumb slut!"

Joey never said it out loud. She never let herself think about it. She refused to accept the fact she was weak. She had always hated herself. She felt she wasn’t worthy of anything good. All the years in the orphanage had left more than scars on her skin. They were also in her mind. You don’t spend years watching kids leaving with families and don’t convince yourself you are not good enough to be picked, to be happy. And when a family picks you up, you think it’s not you. It’s pity.

Sure, you can cover it up. You can be serious. You can stay away emotionally from people. You can find shelter in music and hide from the world in it. You can kick people’s ass when they hurt you or insult you. You can lie and say you are not “a people person,” whatever that means. But none of that can erase the fact that you feel alone, unwanted. Worthless.

- "I wanna call this mother fucker and fucking yell at him the kind of scumbag he is!!"- Frank said as he lit another cigarette and took a look at his watch- "She has been alone for half an hour, do you think she is ok?"

- "Of course, she is not ok, but she has to handle it. She is a grown woman"- Ray answered and sipped his beer.

- "I can’t believe he did this to her"- Mikey whispered- "She, of all the women I’ve known, doesn’t deserve to be treated like this."

A few tears filled his eyes, and he quickly wiped them off, lighting a cigarette too.

- "I’m gonna kill him, as soon as we get home, I’m gonna kill this mother fucker. I’ve got his fucking address, I’m gonna get there, and fucking break every bone in his body with my own hands"- Mikey was losing his cool. He stood up and walked around the hotel’s terrace, and looked at the city lighten in front of him. Frank stared at his friends and stood up too.

- "I’m with you, but we can’t be like this in front of her."

- "I know"- Mikey scratched his head and smoked in silence for a few seconds- "I’m not doing press tomorrow,"- he announced- "I’m staying with her all day long."

- "You can’t just…"- but Gerard’s words were lost in the air knowing his brother wasn’t asking, he was letting them know what he was doing.

- "Maybe we could take turns"- Frankie thought out loud- "You stay with her in the morning, Ray stays with her after lunch, and so on"- they all nodded. Gerard felt excited there was a chance he was going to get time alone with her.

- "Let’s see if she approves it first"- Ray said, and Mikey smiled for a second. He could picture Joey arguing she was ok, and him simply just staying with her, not taking no for an answer. She was going to be pissed.

- "Can we please check on her?"- Gerard tried to ask, but in real life, it sounded like he was begging- "I’m worried"- Ray sighed and took a look at his clock

- "Thirty more minutes"

- "Why at the hour?"- the eldest Way questioned

- "‘Cos she has to put her shit together before we come back, and she knows we’ll come back in an hour."

Joey walked around her room, holding a glass of whiskey. Her third glass of whiskey. Her phone was in her hand, and her finger was about to push “dial.”

- "You can do this"- she said to herself. She had cleaned her face, wiped off all the tears, combed her hair, and taken a long time calming herself down. More than anything, she didn’t want Matthew to see her cry. She couldn’t show any weakness to him.

She knew she would never be fully ready to do this, but if not now, when? So she dialed.

- "Hey Yami!! How’s the movie? Is it over yet?"- Matthew’s face filled the screen, and Joey needed a few seconds to put herself together again. His face was too much to handle. She still loved him too much to see him after what had just happened. Maybe FaceTime hadn’t been the best idea.

- "You cheated on me"- she managed to say. Matthew’s heart stopped- "It’s all over Twitter!!! You fucking cheated on me, and you just pretended it was all perfect??!"

Gubler sat on his couch and looked at his mom, who was next to him, reading. She slowly stood up and walked to the other room. He kept his eyes on Joey’s face and held his breath. Why did he think he could hide it from her? Now, what was he going to say? Was he going to deny it? Could he?

- "Yami, I..."

- "Don’t fucking Yami me, Matt"- she spit the last word with disdain, ‘cos she knew how much he hated being called that way- "You lied, you cheated, and you ruined everything!"

- "Joey, please, listen to me"- the young man stood up and started walking around the room, not knowing what to do or what to say.

- "What should I listen to? Do you think you can talk your way out of this?"- Matthew brushed his hand on his face and scratched his hair, confused and scared.

- "Joey, listen, I was drunk. It didn’t mean anything."

- "What? So being drunk is the perfect excuse for me to accept the fact your ex-girlfriend’s tongue was down your throat, and with another girl too? What the fuck?!"

- "Joey, it didn’t mean anything! It was a mistake!"

- "A “mistake”? How many “mistakes” have you made ever since I left? Tell me."

- "Please, Joey, listen to me. I was drunk, they started dancing, and they kissed me and…"

- "And you fucking took them home and fucked the two of them at the fucking same time. I can picture that very clear, the same fucking bed you said you wanted me to be in."

- "Joey! No!! That’s not what happened!"

- "Then enlighten me, Matthew. Tell me, what the fuck happened?"

Gubler sighed and bit his lips. He didn’t want to tell her, but he knew he had to. She was going to find out the truth one way or another. Maybe if he came clean with her, she would understand. He loved her. She knew that. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake, but it didn’t mean a thing, anything at all.

- "We were at the party, and you called… we talked, and I decided to go home."

- "Sure"- she interrupted sarcastically.

- "Listen, I wanted to go home ‘cos I missed you, but Mark found me and got me a couple of drinks. I was super drunk already when Ann appeared."

- "So you had invited her?"

- "No! No way! I had no idea she was there!"

- "But you got thrilled to see her."

- "I didn’t care! Joey, please, believe me. I was just drunk and stupid, but it didn’t mean a thing!"

- "You fucked her!!"

- "I didn’t fuck neither of them!"

- "There are pictures!! Pictures of you and her and… you were leaving together"

- "We didn’t fuck! Joey, I swear!!"

- "Sorry, but I can’t believe you! I can’t believe a word that’s coming from your lips!"

- "Joey, Yami, baby, love… I swear, I didn’t fuck with them"

- "Then what happened?"

Joey was severe and cold. She had managed not to cry so far, and that made her feel proud. She was devastated and nearly suicidal inside, but she wasn’t going to give Matthew the pleasure of seeing her destroyed because of him. Not that day.

- "Joey… nothing happened."

- "Matthew, if you are going to lie, and I discover that you did…"

- "Ann took me to the back room and decided she wanted to give me a birthday present, so she..." - Joey closed her eyes and threw the phone to the bed.

- "Hijo de la gran puta!! (son of a bitch!!)"- she managed to yell, losing it for a second.

- "It was just a blowjob. Nothing else happened, I swear, Joey! and I stopped her!"- Matthew broke in tears as Joey walked around the room, poured herself another whiskey, and looked at the phone still on her bed.

- "Just a blowjob??! Just a blowjob, Matthew?? Do you fucking believe that shit??"

- "Joey, it meant nothing!!! I didn’t want to do it!!"

- "Bullshit!!"- Joey grabbed the phone again and cut him a look so full of hate Matthew knew he was losing her second by second.

- "Yami, please, I hate myself too, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t give to undo this!! I was too drunk! I thought it was you, and when I saw her, I stopped it"- Joey scoffed and bit her lips to stop the tears- "I regret everything that happened, it was stupid, and it meant nothing, I fucking love you, Joey, you are my bride! you are my love and my whole life!"

- "No"- she quickly replied.

- "Joey, please."

- "No, Matthew. I am not your bride, and I am not your life, not anymore. I am merely the girl you fucking broke and lied to."

- "Please, please try to understand, it wasn’t me, it was a mistake! I didn’t mean it!!"

- "But it happened, Matthew, and that’s it. You can’t undo it."

- "Please, please! you have to forgive me."

- "Why should I forgive you, Matthew? ‘Cos I love you? Is that enough?"- the girl stopped talking, ‘cos her eyes were filled with tears, and she was still making her best not to cry in front of him. But it was getting too hard. Nearly impossible.

- "Joey, please don’t leave me"- the boy begged, his voice as a whisper at the other side of the line. He was crying like a baby, sobbing and walking around his house, not knowing what to do- "Yami, I need you"- every word that came from his lips cracked each of her already shattered heart into another tiny piece.

- "You should have thought of that before, shouldn’t you?"- the girl answered coldly- "You know how much it took me to trust you, Matthew, how much it took me to give you my heart, to you, for the very fucking first time in my life."

- "Please, please… give me another chance…"- he was sobbing, and Joey couldn’t hold it anymore. She broke into tears in front of him as well.

He looked at her, still thinking there was a chance she could forgive him. He didn’t mean to hurt her. It was a mistake. He loved her. She knew it. What did he have to do to change her mind? To keep her by his side.

- "No"- Joey answered, whimpering- "There are no second chances, Matthew."

- "Please, Joey, I am so so so sorry!"

- "Being sorry doesn’t fix anything."

- "I love you"

- "You didn’t care about that when she sucked your dick, did you?"- Joey managed to say, drying the tears from her eyes- "You just fucking enjoyed it, and fucked with my feelings, ‘cos I wasn’t supposed to know."

- "I love you so much"

- "So what?"- she simply answered- "So I should forgive you ‘cos you love me?"

- "I’d do anything for you."

- "You should have started by not cheating."

Joey took a deep breath and looked at Gubler sobbing at the other side of the line, desperate, honestly desperate

- "Bye, Matthew."

- "No, Joey! Wait! Don’t!"

But that was all Joey could handle. She threw the phone back to her bed and fell on the floor, crying her eyes out again. It was too much for her; she wasn’t going to make this alive. Joey loved him so much, but Matthew had damaged her to the edge of sanity. She was proud she had managed the situation mostly cold-headed. She wanted him. She wanted to forgive him so badly. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t going to believe him ever again.

- "Bug?"- Ray opened the door and found her lying on the bed. Mikey ran to her and held her. She wasn’t crying anymore. She looked in shock. He almost broke into tears next to her, not knowing what to do. She merely blinked. She wasn’t talking. She just laid there, curl up, almost lifeless. Barely alive.

Mikey hugged her tight, lying next to her, trying to keep her warm, ‘cos she kept shaking. Frank wiped off the tears from his eyes as he turned around and poured himself a whiskey.

Gerard looked at the scene from a safe distance while Ray tried to talk to Joey, and Frank started drinking, trying not to show how insanely angry he was. Gerard felt like shit. He didn’t think it would affect him so much. But suddenly, he was feeling guilty. Honestly and deeply guilty. He was the one who found out. He was the one who was eager to tell her. He was the one who told her. And an hour ago, he was excited about it, ‘cos it meant she wasn’t going to be with Matthew anymore. But he was so selfish he never stopped himself from thinking what was going to happen to her. How it was going to affect her. And Gerard felt now like a monster.

- "I’m ok kids"- Joey whispered and cut Ray a slight smile- "I’m just tired."

- "Do you want something to eat?"- he asked, but she shook her head- "I’m gonna leave these chocolates here, ok?"

- "Thank you…"- Mikey kissed the top of her head and snuggled her closer. Her phone kept ringing on the floor. Frank quickly grabbed it. It already had five missing calls from Matthew.

- "This mother fucker is gonna…"

- "Please don’t"- but Joey’s words were useless, Frank picked up, ignoring her.

- "Joey!"- Gubler yelled at the other side of the line.

- "Don’t you fucking dare calling her again!!"- Frank yelled with hate- "You are not getting close to her. You are not talking to her. You are dead! Heard me? You are dead to her, and if you fucking get close to her, I am gonna fucking kill you, heard me? I’m gonna kill you!!"

Frank didn’t even let him reply. He hung down and turned off the phone.

- "Why did you do that?"- Joey whispered and took a deep breath.

- "I’m not gonna let that guy hurt you again"- Frank murmured as he kneeled by the bed and kissed her temple sweetly- "Never, I’m not gonna let him make you cry or break your heart again, ok?"

Frank’s words were so full of honesty and emotion, even his voice shook. Tears fell from his eyes, and Joey stared at him in shock. He cared that much for her. It was shocking to realize how much they all cared for her.

- "Thank you, Frank"- he smiled

- "Hey, whatever you need"- he smiled shyly- "Now make room"- the girl and Mikey moved, as Frank crawled on the bed next to her. He wrapped an arm around her and kissed the top of her head as Mikey laid at the other side of her, still cuddling her.

Gerard stared at the scene and wondered how they could just do that, it was what he wanted to do, but he could not move from where he was standing.

- "Wanna watch a movie?"- Ray grabbed the remote control- "Let’s see what we can find"- he knew Pride and Prejudice wasn’t right for the moment, so he tried to find the most random movie he could in pay per view. Die Hard was the chosen one. He and Gerard laid on the bed with the others and didn’t say another word. The girl wanted to be alone, but she knew they weren’t going to let her. It felt good in a way, knowing they cared about her and wanted to be with her at that dark moment.

Matthew was crying, sitting on his bed. He didn’t seem to be able to stop the tears from falling. He held the phone and dialed over and over again. It was off. The wedding was off. His whole life was off at that point. He had made the biggest mistake, and now he knew he couldn’t fix it. But he had to. He wanted to.

- "Yami, please, I’m so sorry"- he talked with her voicemail- "I need you to forgive me, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t want to, it was a mistake"- the call ended, he dialed again- "Yami, I can’t live without you, I can’t, I swear, please, I’m so sorry, I’d do anything you want, anything, but please, please"- the call ended, he dialed again- "Please… Joey, I love you so much, I need you so much, I..."

- "Honey"- his mother whispered as she walked into his room and found him weeping on the phone.

- "She left me, mom"- he whispered and felt her arms around him- "She broke up with me"- he couldn’t say another word ‘cos the tears, and the sobbing didn’t let him talk. His mother kissed his temple and hugged him tightly.

- "You are gonna fix this, baby. It’s gonna be ok."

- "How?"- he managed to murmur.

- "She loves you so much, she is going to forgive you. I know she will."

- "I hurt her mom. She doesn’t deserve this... I don’t deserve her… she is an angel, and I ruined it"- Matthew couldn’t say another word. He just hid his head on his mother’s neck and cried.

Taglist

@all-tings-diego @worryd0ll

[violet-knox]

Hi! Could you write about Adult!Snape being jealous about Adult!Reader? Maybe it could include Lupin as well ?💓

Rags To Riches

Pairing: Snape x Potioneer!Reader

Summary: Severus makes his way to the annual award ceremony held by the Society of Portioneers and is once again disappointed with the speeches. Storming out of the venue, he makes his way to the bar where he’s approached by a familiar face. 

Warnings: A bit of hate towards werewolves (from Severus)

Word Count: 9708

A/N: To be honest anon, I wasn’t entirely sure what you meant by “being jealous about”. I took it as Severus being jealous of reader, I hope that’s alright. If that wasn’t what you were asking for, I’m sorry, I hope you can enjoy it either way. This story started off with one idea which morphed into something completely different. I truly meant to include Lupin but instead of a feature, he gets more of a mention in this piece. I hope the general theme of the ask still stuck though. It was a lot of fun to write, I really enjoyed coming up with a different scenery outside Hogwarts. I actually enjoyed it so much that I may in the future do a part 2 but who knows. I have so much on my plate, if I do write a part 2, it probably won’t be anytime soon 😅

Clutching the invitation in his hand, he looked down at the address written in bright cursive gold then back up at the building before him. The outside of the building was built with pristine white bricks, the windows lined in the same shade of gold that lay on the invitation. He no doubt expected the inside to be just as pretentious, well suited for the event he was to attend tonight which was one of the many reasons why he never went. Taking a step closer, he slowly inched his way to the door where a doorman awaited, checking the invitations of every guest with a wave of his wand. He wasn’t as nearly accomplished as those who’d come to the Society of Potioneers’ Annual Award Ceremony, and even now, dressed in his best attire, he felt like a fraud, like the ugly duckling walking into the pond with his painted feathers looking to join his family.

Handing the man his invitation, he watched as he wove his wand over it, a puff of silver smoke steaming off the parchment, spelling out his name right before his eyes. It was always about the looks, the way the society was perceived to others that mattered. Even after all his hard work, everything he’d done to join and be accepted into the community, he kept hoping something good would come of it, that he’d one day be appreciated for all his potion alteration, perhaps even be granted the privilege of establishing a communal wide potion’s standards for all Wizarding schools. But those dreams of a hopeful boy had died long ago, and he’d naturally distanced himself from the society, watching from afar as those he’d established friendships with climbed above him with no interest in helping him push his career forward. 

“Down the hall to your left, you’ll find the venue, to your right will be the bar and at the end there is the registry office if you shall need anything this evening. Enjoy the ceremony sir,” said the man as he handed Severus back his invitation, now turned into a ceremony program. Opening it, he saw the first few words bolding, almost screaming at him to make his way to the venue to find a seat and await the opening remarks. Fifteen minutes of opening remarks, then an hour and a half of speaking of the organization's foundation followed by forty-five minutes of introductions and then another three hours of torment and agony until the part of the event he’d shown up for. 

There it was, the name of the potioneer he’d admired for a few years now: (Y/N) (Y/L/N). He’d read all your books, owned several copies, even taught from them and assigned them as extra reading material for those in his classes who had a knack for the art of potion making. Your ideology was quite phenomenal, your process much more advanced than those of the peers you sat alongside now. Of course, it wasn’t without its faults, after all, no one was perfect and if he’d ever gotten the chance, he would simply adore sitting with you to discuss improvements on some of the more extravagant potions you’d written about. But who was he to have such a privilege; a nobody Potion’s Master, forever doomed to teach the pinheads of Hogwarts. 

Looking down at the pamphlet in his hand, he watched the timer in the corner slowly decrease, nine miserable minutes until the socializing was over, and until then, he’d do his best to avoid the few familiar faces he knew wouldn’t care to speak with him. He made his way to the end of the last row and took a seat, placing the program on his lap with his eyes on the timer, wondering if it was only counting down as slowly as it was because it could sense his pain and anticipation. It was this moment, the loneliness he felt as his eyes scanned the room that he began to regret showing up at all, knowing he wasn’t exactly a connection many wanted to make especially considering his status as an ex-Death Eater with rumours of the Dark Lord’s return swarming through the Wizarding World. 

Five minutes remaining. He sighed the nail of his thumb scratched at the fabric of his cuff. Never did he ever imagine himself wearing this suit when Lucius had gifted it to him as a way to celebrate his position at Dumbledore’s side all those years ago. It was tighter than he’d remembered, thicker and heavier, but just as uncomfortable. It didn’t feel right the first time he’d put it on, and it didn’t feel any better now, even after the alterations he’d made to lessen the glamour smudged all over it. It was Lucius’ style, very much his style with bright lining along the robes, a silver touch on the suit itself, the ascot it came with just as dashing, but it wasn’t something Severus could ever wear. He’d spent so much of his life wearing nothing but second-hand clothing, worn out shirts, trousers he’d grown out of years ago, he wasn’t worthy to wear items so luxurious, even if the event called for it. 

“Attention everyone, if you would all find your seats.” Severus straightened his back as he looked up to the stage to find his old Potion’s Professor addressing the room with that same cunning smile he’d always worn when he was a student. Others around him all shuffled around, Slughorn happily standing there waiting for the commotion to settle. The man had looked better, Severus never imagining him letting himself go as much as he did with how important appealing to others had been for him. He, of course, wasn’t surprised to find him hosting an event such as this, someone who’d made nothing of his own potion’s career, still striving to be recognized in the world would end up as the host of a prestigious event. He could only hope that wasn’t his future standing on stage as the man’s successor as Hogwarts Potions Master. 

Slughorn began the event with his head held high, Severus pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes glued shut as the headache that always came with Slughorn’s lectures settled in. He wondered if half these people were past students of Slughorn’s as he was, if they’d even allow this man to talk as much as he was now. He’d never met a single person who’d enjoyed one of his classes, not even those who were a part of his idiotic club. 

Time could not have passed any slower as one by one people he’d never met or heard of spoke on stage, clapping and laughter occasionally filling the room as he simply sat there with his thumb under his chin and two fingers pressed against his temple, looking like he had a wand to his head. His eyes focussed more on the program before him, waiting one by one as items disappeared until finally the time came for your presentation and award acceptance.

“Now, for the moment many of you have surely been waiting for; awarding Potioneer of the Year. Wizards and Witches, the publisher of the improved Wolfsbane’s potion, Professor (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” The room roared with applause, Severus clapping alongside them for the first time tonight as his eyes searched for you. Severus pushed himself forward, straightened as much as he could as he watched you walk on stage. You looked so strong, your attire casual yet stunning. He felt his heartbeat rage against his chest as his eyes widened. You were much more attractive in person, much more enticing than he’d ever imagined you’d be. He felt like an insect standing before a God, sitting so close to you he could read the expression on your face, yet he felt like you were from completely different worlds.  

“Thank you, it’s an honour and a privilege to accept this award on behalf of those with whom I worked alongside these past few years.” You went on to thank your entire staff list one by one, many around him displaying their distaste for the long list, but he admired you for it all the more. “It’s troubling times like these that we must remember to make alliances of those around us, to help those who suffer from lycanthropy and do what we can to help them during the full moon. It is a great pleasure to see you all come here today to take part in the next steps of a brighter future. I hope with all the brilliant minds in this room that one day we may cure those who are being stripped of their rights as Wizards and Witches.”

Severus had to admit that he was never one to care for such topics, his own experience with werewolves rather scaring his ability to sympathize. Lupin was such a careless beast, putting his need of acceptance above the safety of those around him. He’d tried so hard to put the past behind him, to give Lupin the benefit of the doubt when he took the position Severus was rightfully owed. But once again, he’d proven himself unable to put others before himself even with his help. All those countless hours brewing that horrendous potion wasted only for him to end up exactly where he’d found himself all those years ago: at the mercy of the beast. 

Your presentation however was rather enticing, the delicacy of detail you’d put in your research of some of the rarest ingredients he’d ever heard, the intricate way you’d calculated your measurements. But most of all, he was absolutely in love with your experimentation process and only wished he had the privilege to merely exist in the same space to watch you perform each trial, to hear you speak of your observations and conclusions, the way each failure helped you learn for the next until you finally found the correct footing. He was absolutely astounded by your work, unable to help himself from scribbling down as many notes as he could on the notebook he’d brought, completely ignoring the underappreciation in the room as the others simply waited for your presentation to end. Fools, all of them. They were absolute fools to take your genius mind for granted.  

“That concludes my findings. Now, no doubt many of you have questions, but before we move onto the brief Q&A portion, I’d like to take this moment to thank someone very special, someone who’s own experiences inspired me to pursue the remaking of the wolfsbane potion: Remus Lupin.” Severus’ eyes shot up from his notebook, his quill leaving a rather visible line through his notes as his hand slipped from the name he heard spoken out of your mouth. He watched as you smiled and gestured to a man sitting in the front row beside the empty seat you’d risen from to give the presentation he’d just spent an hour hanging on every word for. Applause slowly turned to ringing as he was deafened by the thought of you working with Lupin. 

He looked down at his notebook, his endless sea of questions as rage and hatred filled his mind. This weekend was supposed to be about him, about his interests, his hopes to rejoin civilization through the Society of Potioneers, to possibly, very possibly exchange two words with you and that mut had spent years speaking with you? Working alongside you? It was bad enough Dumbledore had hired the man after everything that had happened, after knowing the trauma he’d been through as a child, but this was an entirely different type of mockery. Merlin was testing him, pushing him to insanity, punishing him for his past choices, it was the only explanation. 

Closing his notebook rather harshly, he swiftly jumped to his feet and made his way out of the room, suddenly aware of the lack of oxygen a packed room like this offered. He let the doors close silently behind him as he stopped to lean back on the wall, trying to take in a deep breath. He closed his eyes and let his hair fall over his face, the memories of the Whomping Willow flooding back to him all at once. He could feel his muscles tensing as he froze in a state of shock and panic, both times he’d felt helpless and both times he’d failed to defend against the beast. 

“Sir, are you alright?” Slowly, he opened his eyes to see one of the staff members of the hotel staring at him with concern. 

“I’m fine,” Severus said coldly as he pushed himself passed the man and walked straight to the other side where he’d been told the bar was located. Bursting through the doors, he stopped to find himself in the most luxurious bar he’d ever seen. The space was quite generous, twice as large as the venue hosting the Award Ceremony. Bottles upon bottles lay displayed behind the bar that seemed to stretch out forever, glasses all hanging above as crystal clear as the air itself. Walking up to the bar, he hesitated to take a seat, the chairs alone likely worth more than his annual salary. Placing his book on the counter, he sat on the edge of his chair and ordered a firewhiskey. Double. 

“Two Galleons,” said the bartender as he slid the drink over to Severus with a coaster beneath it. Severus stared at the bartender like he’d just spoken a language he was unfamiliar with. It was no wonder Dumbledore said he’d only pay for his stay at the Leaky Cauldron, but at least the Headmaster had given him some spending money so it was his Sickle he was wasting and not his own. Handing over his coins, he picked up the drink and slowly began to swirl its contents around the thick glass. He took a small sip and winced at the strength of the liquid, the burning sensation it left in his mouth as it trailed down his throat and into his stomach. The aftertaste was quite strong, rather pleasant and he could see why it cost as much as it did. 

Placing the glass back on the coaster, he stared at the menacing notebook before him. He’d nearly filled up half of it with notes on your books, each word written with the hopes that you’d one day read them, each sentence written with the image of you in his mind. His fingertips grazed the cover of the notebook, almost afraid to touch it after the discovery he’d made this evening. But slowly, ever so slowly, the notebook was brought closer and closer to him, dragged along the marble countertop until it stood there before him, taunting him with thoughts of potential and revelation. He dreadfully opened up the notebook and slowly began to flip through its pages, finding it rather comforting to read through the notes he made when reading your books, until he finally found himself turning to the fresh notes he’d taken not moments ago. 

His admiration slowly turned toxic as a familiar emotion took root in his core. He hated that you were better than him, more successful than him. He absolutely resented the fact you’d lifted up someone who didn’t deserve it. He would have made a much better coworker, he would have offered insight Lupin could never dream of having, the beast who’d taken so much from him already had to come after the one thing Severus had always excelled at, just like those who’d used him during his days as a student. 

“My my, and here I was worried you’d left because you found my presentation boring.” Severus’ head spun around to the side to find you standing before him, smiling down at his notebook. With a hasty hand, he slammed the book shut for the second time that day, staring back at you with wide eyes. 

“May I?” You’d gestured at the seat next to him, but he couldn’t find his voice to speak or even nod his head. He was utterly stunned, much like during his interaction with the beast, your friend, your coworker, the parasite in your life. He was angry at you, a complete stranger, his rage misguided, yet he couldn’t help but feel some sort of animosity towards you. He deserved better than the life he’d gotten, better than the forgotten Potion’s Master who was of no use to anyone but the school’s matron and the few students who possessed enough talent to pursue the career he should have had, the career you now possessed. His malice towards you grew as he thought of the respect you had, the respect he’d chased for so long, exchanged his soul for and all you’d done to earn it was write a few books and work with a monster.

“Dragon Barrel Brandy please. And a refill for this gentleman,” you said to the bartender, gesturing to the nearly empty glass sitting beside the notebook you’d give anything to take another peek inside. 

You’d never felt so stunned before, so taken back by the sudden exit of one of your audience members during your Q&A. The man had walked so graciously out those doors, like he was part of the shadows that engulfed him as his hair swished behind him, his robes flowing, extenuating his slim yet luscious figure. You’d been so distracted, you had to ask the woman to repeat her question, you yourself barely able to give a feasible answer as your mind swarmed with questions about the man who’d just walked out of those doors. Had you done something wrong? Said something to offend him? Was he called away or did he simply find your presentation uninspired? Whatever the reason, you found yourself unable to sit in that room any longer, needing to excuse yourself and hope the man was still around and willing to chat. Well, at least he was indeed still around, and you were sure with a bit of light conversation and a few more drinks, he’d be willing to chat considering the extensive and thought out notes he’d taken.

“May I ask your name?” you inquired as you sat back in your chair, head tilted as you examined his posture. He wasn’t anything like the people you’d met at these sorts of events, in fact, you were sure you’d never seen him before. You would have easily remembered such a mysterious man, dressed in a rather interesting attire. The robes he wore looked vintage, something one of those snobby rich young graduates looking for easy connections to make would wear, but he looked nothing of the sort. He sat here alone, he sat in the venue in the back corner alone. He had yet to speak to you, his eyes focussed on the notebook in front of him, dismissing the rest of the world. He was a complete mystery, one you very much wanted to solve.

Severus could feel your eyes on him, your eyes, staring at him, waiting for him to introduce himself. His mind had gone completely blank, overwhelmed with annoyance and admiration, jealousy and wonder. Clearing his throat, he mumbled his name through gritted teeth, his voice a tone deeper than usual. “Severus Snape.”

“Really?” Your shock escaped you before you could formulate a single thought. It was rather odd you’d found the Severus Snape at an event like this, let alone taking notes on your presentation, talking to you now. 

“You’ve heard of me?” he asked, rather taken back himself, his head spinning to look at you, his eyes wide with amazement. No one had ever recognized his name outside the walls of the school, not even the Dark Lord’s followers who heard whispers of the Death Eater who’d come to their master with the forsaken prophecy. He wasn’t sure how to react to your recognition of him beyond pure curiosity and could only imagine what dark rumours had passed within the pretentious group of potioneers.

“Hogwarts youngest Potion’s Master, how could I have not. In fact, I’ve even worked with some of your past students. You must be remarkably talented to be hired so young, to have left such an impressive mark on your students,” you said with what he assumed was excitement in your voice. Or perhaps he’d mistaken it for sarcasm, something he found rather common amongst those you hung around with. But your emotions were true, your eyes filled with the same wonder he’d held for you all those years. “Remus tells me he worked at Hogwarts for a short while before someone let slip his condition.”

And back you went to mentioning the name of the beast, the very thing that had driven him away from you. He whipped his gaze back to the bar, to the book in front of him as he reached to take a sip of his drink, cringing at your words. He could hardly believe his luck, his foolishness for believing there was a chance he’d have a peaceful, well deserved weekend off, away from his past, his future, the dreadful truth of his present. 

“He let it slip himself when he neglected to fulfill the simple task of drinking the potion I spent hours brewing,” he mumbled under his breath, the little respect he still had for you keeping him from losing it completely. 

“And that warrants him to lose his job?” You tried to hold yourself back as his insinuations boiled your blood. It was assumption like that, negative attitudes like his that you’d dedicated your career to fighting against. You were saddened to hear the resentful tone he took when speaking of Remus, rather hoping this conversation could turn into an opportunity to work with him.

“If it endangers the students, yes,” he said bluntly, looking back at you with cold eyes before he took another sip of his drink. Your expression hardened, a frown appearing on your lips as you thought of all the hardships Remus had gone through, how he spoke so highly of Hogwarts Headmaster, someone you thought picked his staff well, though clearly his judgment fell short on some people. 

“We’ve all made mistakes. One incident shouldn’t define a person like that,” you tried to argue, doing your best to make your opinion clear in the hopes he’d indulge you in a civil discussion on the topic. Many thought potions was your weapon of choice when it came to the rights of those cursed with lycanthropy, but you found words were much more effective. Words and discussion had created enough allies for you to come as far as you did in just a few short years and you hoped they wouldn’t fail you now, craving to work with Severus.

“It wasn’t just one incident. Remus has a rather nasty habit of turning the other way on his responsibilities. He never should have been hired in the first place.” Severus mumbled the last sentence, looking away as he took another sip of his drink, finding comfort in the harsh taste that trickled down his throat against the bitter words he spoke to the one person these past few years he’d looked up to, found comfort in. Never meet your heroes; a saying he’d never known to be more true than this moment. 

“That’s a rather harsh judgment to make for the short period of time you worked with him.” You did your best to keep your tone neutral, to encourage him to speak his mind and converse with you. The worst type of people you’d ever spoke to were those whose heads were so thick, your words bounced right off of them. It seemed, however, that despite your attempt to keep things civil, you’d struck a nerve with the comment you made, the nasty look he gave you now indicating perhaps you were wrong to make the assumption he’d met Remus during his time as a professor. You watched him chug the remainder of his drink and worried that he’d do something regretful tonight realizing you had no idea how much he’d had to drink before you showed up. 

“You wouldn’t understand. No one ever does,” he mumbled, setting down his glass on the coaster and pushing it away slowly. Two drinks was quite enough, especially if he wanted to remain sober enough to apparate back to the Leaky Cauldron tonight.

“Try me,” you said softly, catching his eye once more as you saw his harsh exterior begin to melt away. Severus looked at you in shock, rather surprised you hadn’t already thrown your barely touched drink in his face and stormed off from what he’d already said, let alone encouraging him to keep going. He squinted as he looked into your eyes, trying to figure you out, find any sense of logic in the sea of mixed emotions he felt towards you. You seemed rather genuine, and that was a trait he’d admired in your writing, but oh how blind you were, how you seemed to negate any possibility that he was right. 

“Remus and I went to school together as students,” Severus began, deciding to take a leap of faith, indulging you in your interest to converse with him. “He was a prefect who neglected his duties at the amusement of his friends. Friends who thought luring a student to meet his... other half was worth a laugh.”

Severus had never spoken about the day he found out about Lupin’s secret before, Dumbledore’s word always haunting him, telling him to keep it to himself. But he had to admit, it felt good to let out his vexation, even if he wasn’t being completely honest. He wondered however, what you would think of Lupin had you been enrolled in Hogwarts with him, had you been in his place that night, near the brink of death, all for a joke. Would you despise Lupin as he did? Or would you continue to defend him? 

In truth, he didn’t blame Lupin for that night. No, the blame fell upon those he called ‘friends’, those he’d trusted with his secret only to turn around and use his affliction to their advantage. Lupin’s fault was his own unwillingness to punish them for their actions, to let them parlance around the school like they owned it. It was his fault it had gone as far as it did, his fault for continuing to defend them afterwards without consideration for what may have happened that night.

Looking at you now, the blank expression you wore, he wasn’t sure how you’d react. It wasn’t often people could elude their emotions from him, but you were different, he could tell you were conflicted in thought. You’d fallen completely silent, something that had never happened before as you got the hint he was that student in his story, which would have meant Severus likely almost lost his life at Remus’ hand twice in his life. It was hard for you not to be biased. You’d known Lupin for years now and could hardly imagine him turning a blind eye to something like that, but you also had to admit, it wasn’t fair to Severus to be put in such a situation either.

“Listen, Severus, I understand how traumatizing an experience like that could be, but that’s all the more reason we must find a way to help the Wizards and Witches who’ve been cursed with such a horrible infliction,” you said sympathetically, your defensiveness melted away, replaced with a soft understanding tone. You respected his experience, his trauma, even if no one else understood, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t recover from that time, that Remus had to remain the villain in his eyes. 

“Come with me, and perhaps we can clear this up with Remus,” you said, gesturing back to the venue, offering to moderate their reunion and help him confront his past. You wanted to help him heal, to help him see the other side of Remus, but it was clear he wasn’t ready to take such a step, rejecting your offer almost as quickly as you’d given it.

“No!” His words nearly jumping down your throat as he spoke, his eyes widened with a sudden burst of fear. He looked at you in a panic and saw the surprise you wore on your face, feeling guilty for rejecting so hastily. “I do not wish to speak with him.”

Your mouth gaped open, words lost on you as you saw the sadness in his eyes, the resentment and hatred he held. He’d been holding back all this time, trying to hide his pain, something you could tell he was rather used to. Your eyes scanned him as he hung his head low, analysing him, the sadness he carried over his shoulders. The evening hadn’t gone as he’d hoped, he was disappointed in the Award Ceremony and you’d misjudged the reason for his previous display of rebellion. “Is he the reason why you ran out on my presentation?”

Severus said nothing, staring at his empty glass as he brought his notebook closer to the edge of the counter, shielded by his arms placed on either side. He wanted so badly to go back to that moment where he was unaware of Lupin’s presence, his tainted hand in your research and simply enjoy your presentation. He hadn’t felt that sense of peace listening to you speak in such a long while, every horrendous thing in his life forgotten. He was a fourteen-year-old boy again, avidly taking notes in class on a subject he loved, a subject he excelled at. It was a feeling he missed, a feeling he was sure he’d never get the privilege of experiencing again.

“Your presentation was not what I walked away from,” he stated plainly, ending the conversation with his stiff, conclusive tone. You looked away out of respect for his choice. You hadn’t come here to defend the actions of a teenager, you’d accepted that award tonight in exchange for the opportunity to present your ideas and findings to a group of experts in your field in the hopes you’d inspire at least one of them to join your mission and you weren’t about to give up on that. Severus was a rather enticing person, carrying a fresh perspective that you could use. It also helped that you felt quite intrigued by him, wanting to know him better. 

“I see. Well, perhaps we could discuss your thoughts on my presentation instead then,” you said, a smile pulling on your lips as you gestured towards the notebook he so carefully protected. You’d give anything to read it, get inside the mind of Severus Snape. “Over dinner? If you’d like.”

Severus froze, wondering if he’d heard you right. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to look back at you, tilting his head in wonder of the inviting look you gave him, the soft smile that hoped for a ‘yes’, the eyes that wanted to continue your conversation. He’d never seen anyone look at him with such interest before, let alone someone he himself admired. “You’d like to have dinner? With me?”

“If you’ll allow it,” you mused, your thoughts lost in your inability to accept anything but a yes to your invitation. 

“What about them,” Severus gestured to the venue, rather confused as to your intentions. He wasn’t as well connected as everyone else in that room, he didn’t have the resources or money to offer you aid in your research. You had nothing to gain from dinner with him, an evening with him alone certainly not worth his scribbles. “What about Lupin?”

“I think you and I could have much more interesting conversations.” You could almost laugh at the insinuating that you were attached to the hip with Remus. He was your friend, a coworker and nothing more, surely Severus could see that. No, with him, it was much more than about making a friend or conversing about progressing your research. You felt drawn to Severus, your own presence clearly affecting him just the same, else he likely would have shunned you as he did the rest of Lupin’s friends, as he intended to do when he walked out on your presentation.

Severus narrowed his eyes at you, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Was he meant to enjoy the privilege of your company after all? Had there been a reason for him feeling drawn to you, to your books all those years ago beyond curiosity? He couldn’t tell whether your invitation was strictly professional or if you’d hoped to gain a personal favour as well. But he had to admit, he was rather intrigued. No longer did he feel irritated with your social connections, nor did he praise you for your accomplishment. He saw something else, something new behind those eyes of yours; a spark of lust, a flame of passion, an interest he’d never seen anyone take with him before. 

“What do you say?” you asked softly as you stood from your seat and took a step towards him. You smiled and offered him your hand, feeling rather confident he’d take it. You barely knew the man, but from what you’ve seen, what you’ve heard about him, he wasn’t one to hesitate, especially with those he loathed. In fact, you could tell from the moment you sat next to him he was just as intrigued as you were, that he held something more than admiration for you otherwise he would have made a scene and left when you brought up Remus.

He looked down at your hand and straightened his back, his grip on his notebook tightening as he hesitantly stood from his own seat and reached out to meet his coarse palm with yours. Your smile grew as you clasped your hand shut, leading him out the door without a moment to waste. You sped up your pace as you passed the venue, chatter to be heard on the other side of the door and took a sharp turn down the corridor towards the registry office of the building. The last thing you needed was for one of those vultures to find you and snatch you away from a peaceful dinner. 

“Where are we going?” Severus’ commanded your attention as you continued walking down the hall, holding him tightly as he walked beside you, feeling rather awkward at the situation he’d found himself agreeing to. He could feel his heart beating faster, his hand ever so slightly trying to release itself from your grip, yet a small part of him hoped Lupin would walk out those doors behind him and see you with him. 

“My room,” you said casually. Severus’ eyes widened, his confusion amplified as you stopped and took out your wand, waving it before a blank wall. An elevator appeared before you, its doors opening before you dragged him inside.

“What? But I thought-”

“Relax,” you cut him off, rather amused at how suggestive your comment had come out, how he shivered at the thought this was more than a dinner between two strangers, though you hoped after tonight, that title would be swapped out for something much warmer. “It’s not like that. You’ll see when we get there.”

Severus stayed quite as you let go of his hand, your warmth already seeping away as the cold returned to his palm. He looked down at his hand, pressing his thumb to his palm as he held it like he’d just been released of the most agonising shackles. It felt oddly empty, like they were forever meant to stay locked with yours, only to wither in pain when they weren’t. Looking down at your hand, he saw you ever so slightly rubbing your own fingers against your palm as you held a loose fist, your eyes fixed on the passing increasing number above the elevator until finally movement ceased and the doors swung open. 

You nearly leapt out of the elevator, leaving Severus behind as excitement took you over. You couldn’t remember the last time you sat down with someone to have a simple chat, to socialise and enjoy life. These past few months had especially been quite the burden as the Society’s pressure in your presentation and award acceptance weighed you down. You had to submit in the end of course, only agreeing to attend their pompous event for the opportunity to pick the brains of those who would attend, but when you were up there, you could tell none of them truly cared for your research. None of them had any interest in the progression of Potions, the amount of potential it carried. They were simply there as investors, which of course came in handy, especially when you wished to hire as much talent as you could, but that wasn’t what you needed now, not after all those long hours working day after day, month after month. You needed a breath of fresh air, and for you, that was Severus. 

Finally, you reached your destination, and with a wave of your wand, the door clicked open, Severus watching you step inside before following. He was astounded by what he saw as you closed the door behind him, like a two-story suite had been crammed into your hotel room. The windows stood tall, like the ones at Hogwarts, sunshine flooding in to illuminate everything in sight. A reasonably sized round glass table stood on the other side of the room beside the staircase, two doors standing behind it. Before him sat a large sectional couch, facing the fireplace and a rectangular shaped coffee table. 

You walked around Severus as he admired the luxury you were lucky enough to bargain for when agreeing to attend the event tonight. You had no issue taking advantage of the privileges you’d been granted, knowing how much your attendance meant to them and their social standing to the rest of the Wizarding Community. You sighed in glee as you finally felt like you could relax, removing your outer robes and any unnecessary trinkets you’d put on for the sake of appearance.

“I hope you don’t mind,” you said as you removed your watch, placing it on the coffee table and grabbing the menu. Severus watched you as you walked over to the dining table, looking back to see him slowly removing his own outer robes, revealing the black vest and white button up he wore beneath it. “I’m more of a casual wearer myself.”

Severus nodded at your remark, feeling rather relieved he could finally let go of the pompous attire he wore, removing the cufflinks that had been bothering him all day. He rolled up his sleeves as he took a seat across from you, placing the cufflinks on the glass table.

“Order anything you like and make it for two,” you told him as you handed him the menu, eyeing the cufflinks he’d placed in front of him. He arched a brow at you as he stared at the prices on the menu, wondering if you were insinuating you’d pay for him as if he couldn’t afford it himself. 

“The Society is paying for it,” you explained, leaning forward. Severus nodded in understanding, unsure of what to say. He could hardly believe he was sitting here in front of you, about to have dinner in the complete privacy of such a luxurious suite. He felt butterflies in his stomach as your words of being a casual wearer rung in his ears. Was this meant to be taken as a casual dinner then?

“How do I order?” he asked, never having the opportunity to stay at a hotel like this.

“Ah, just tap the tip of your wand over the name of the dish you’d like,” you explained, pressing your lips together in wonder. As he ordered, you picked up one of the cufflinks before him, the metal scratching against the glass of the tabletop. You were itching to figure out why a man who so obviously did not live in a life of luxury wore such glamorous clothing, attended an event where he didn’t fit in.

“You don’t strike me as a man who’d wear bold emerald cufflinks,” you said as you examined the cufflink, Severus placing the menu down as he watched you. Your eyes met and you immediately paused, his threatening glare rather terrifying. Placing the cufflink back, you retreated your hands to your side of the table and sat back in your chair. “Sorry. I was just wondering why you’ve come to an event you’re not comfortable with.”

“I didn’t know Lupin would be here,” he said as if it wasn’t obvious enough already.

“That’s not what I meant.” You shifted in your seat, not wanting to ruin the evening with a topic you knew he likely wouldn’t want to discuss. Your curiosity however overtook your better judgment, treading carefully in search of an opportunity to get to know him. “It’s just- you and I, we’re not like them, and you, your scene clearly doesn’t include high class hotels and 500 Galleon suits.”

Severus narrowed his eyes at you, placing his elbows on the armrest of the chair as he folded his hands in front of his lips. He leaned back in his chair, studying you like he did back at the bar, wondering what you were thinking. There was no denying the fact he wanted to make a good impression on you. For so long he’d yearned to be where you were, to be recognized as you had been and gaining your respect would mean everything to him. 

“And why not?” he asked plainly, looking to find even a sliver of your perspective of him, to know what it was you were seeking from him and what you considered acceptable. 

“You paid attention during my presentation, you weren’t just there to see me accept an award. More than that, you took notes, you have a clear interest in the subject of Potions rather than the status a Potioneer might have. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met,” you said with absolute sincerity, smiling softly as you encouraged him to open up if only enough to show you who he truly was. You were so tired of the fakery, the networking efforts made by those who showed up today, so imagine your surprise to find someone as pure as him, someone you could have a real conversation with. 

“I simply appreciate true talent and the pristine amount of detail put into researching the progression of Potions,” he stated without so much as wavering in his tone. You were inclined to believe him of course, but you still couldn’t help but ponder over the possibility there was more to him than admiration for your work. At least you’d managed to get some form of truth out of him as he seemed to relax a bit. 

“You flatter me.” Your smile grew mischievously, like you’d just captured a secret message hidden beneath his words only meant for you to keep as your own. “Can I assume you attended tonight for my lecture?”

Severus’ eyes widened the slightest bit before he looked away, adjusting his position in his chair as he cleared his throat. A giggle slipped from your throat as you watched him sit in the awkwardness of your question when your food suddenly appeared before you. Severus sighed in relief as he reached for the napkin, placing it over his lap before picking up his cutlery to dive right in. He could still feel the heat in his face from your insinuation and though your assumption had been correct, he would lay before the Bellatrix’s blade before admitting it.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you said as you motioned to begin your meal as well. You kept your eyes on him as you placed your napkin over your lap, watching his lips twitch into a subtle smile for the first time that evening. You felt butterflies flourish in your stomach as you gazed on his expression, emotions you were sure he’d been used to suppressing emerging for your eyes and your eyes alone. He looked rather handsome when he smiled, his lips softening up the sharpness of his features. 

Looking down at the dish waiting to be consumed, you couldn’t help but notice his choice was rather reserved, tasteful as all things on the menu were, but casual like he was playing it safe, needing to feel connected to what he knew rather than risk ordering something he’d never heard of before. But lucky for him, you weren’t too picky in your food choices, enjoying your meal as you continued to make small talk with Severus, the atmosphere lightening as the sun slowly set on your evening together. Time passed around you as you both captured this moment for yourselves, stopping the clocks in the bubble of your hotel room and lengthening your dinner as much as possible. But slowly your dishes were cleared and as you set down your cutlery after taking your last bite, you watched your dishes vanish. Time was up, yet you didn’t want to let go.

“Thank you for this,” Severus said as he wiped his mouth clean, vanishing his napkin when he was done with it. “I have to admit, this was not how I imagined the evening.”

His eyes were soft, his expression much happier than the one he wore when you first approached him. You gawked at him, unaware of the dreamy look you were giving him now. You had no idea why he’d come tonight, though you had your suspicions, but you were glad he did. He was a delight to talk to once he’d gotten comfortable around you, his lightened attitude amplifying the subtle beauty he held. 

“And what were you expecting?” you asked curiously, hoping to get the confession you wanted out of him, to confirm your suspicions and perhaps open a door to a potential future with him. 

“I suppose I’d only hoped to enjoy your presentation.” He spoke slowly, like he’d carefully picked out every word before speaking them. He felt his heart raging in discomfort, concerned for the thin ice he was walking across, trying to reach the happiness he saw on the other side.

“Nothing more?” You encouraged him, your voice echoing from beyond the ice, your smile inviting like you knew exactly what he had to say to safely cross over to you. He cleared his throat and looked away for a moment as he felt the heat rise to his face, his cheeks blushing a light shade of pink as he licked his lips, swallowing hard at the thought lingering in the forefront of his mind.

“I-I suppose I never thought myself lucky enough to engage in a conversation with you,” he pushed himself to say. His eyes slowly looked up from the table, meeting your gaze in an endlessly nervous state of desire. He carefully watched you, your smile growing as your eyes sparkled, clearly not appalled by his insinuation. He thought back to the speeches, conversations he’d play out in his mind whenever he read one of your books, always one sided, always filled with a need they’d one day come to life and it never seemed more possible that he’d get his wish than now.

“Then would you perhaps indulge me in your thoughts on my presentation?” you inquired, hoping this time, he’d show you what was in his notebook rather than shield them from you. Severus stared at you a moment, like he was very intently considering your request and whether or not he could trust you before nodding. He pushed back his chair and you jumped out of yours in excitement, already making your way over to the couch before he even got a chance to stand. You took a seat and waited for him to retrieve his notebook, feeling like you were about to take a peek into pandora’s box after the way he’d protected it earlier. 

Severus cautiously took a seat beside you, notebook in hand. You were far enough away from him that you couldn’t read the writing on the pages as he flipped through it, but close enough that you could smell the lavender in his hair, the smell of fresh ink and parchment on his clothing and a faint smell of varying potion ingredients only a practicing potioneer could have. After carefully flattening the notebook, he handed it to you as if giving you the most delicate of flowers to hold. 

Your eyes were wide as you placed it on your lap, your heart thumping in excitement as you scanned over the page filled with cramped notes so neatly written, filling up both pages laid before you. Your eyes travelled to the top of the first page, smiling as you saw today’s date written in the corner with the words ‘Society of Potioneers Award Ceremony. Presentation on Wolfsbane potion by (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’ written beneath. Your fingers hovered over the miniscule writing as you read along the page, flipping to the next, each word enticing you more and more. You had so much to say, so many ideas blooming as you continued through, remembering your own presentation and the correlation between his notes and your words. 

“Severus, this is-” you whispered in such a stale tone. He’d been looking at you so intently, watching the expression on your face, checking you’d only flip forward in the notebook and not backwards, he’d completely been taken back by your sudden words. The silence had settled, thickened with such anticipation that even your small whisper had his heart skipping a beat. “You’re brilliant.”

Your words hung in the air, pinned in his mind as he pondered over their meaning, over how genuine they were. He wanted so badly to take your compliment and cherish it forever, but that wall he’d kept up since his teen years rejected it, pushed it away in fear of it causing harm in the future. He’d longed to discuss your research with you and now that he was being given that chance, he felt like he was spoiling it by remaining so silent.

“They’re just thoughts,” he mumbled as he looked down at his notebook.

“But they could be just what we need to propel our research forward,” you told him with excitement, continuing to read until you reached the final page, your fingers trailing along the sudden tough mark trailing to the end of the page, remembering the image of him walking out of the venue. You handed him back his notebook, respecting his privacy and the anxiety you could feel seeping off of him while you were reading his notes, you inched closer to him and faced him. “What would you say to a job opportunity with my research team?”

“I already have a job,” Severus said, almost regretting his own words. He couldn’t believe you’d just offered him a job opportunity, that you wanted to work with him after seeing the chicken scratch he’d scribbled during your presentation.

“Whatever your salary is, I’ll double it,” you insisted firmly. You straightened your back and held yourself up in determination. You’d decided. You had to work with him no matter the cost, he was more than just a talented potioneer as you’d first assumed, his talents wasting away at that school. If he’d only joined the research field years prior, perhaps you would have met sooner, perhaps you would have found a cure to lycanthrope rather than simply search for a temporary treatment.

“That’s generous but I have a commitment to Hogwarts, to the Headmaster.” Severus wanted so badly to say yes, to stay here with you and send Dumbledore his resignation letter without even heading back to Hogwarts tomorrow. He wanted more time with you, to know you more, to talk about your books, to work with you. But alas, the deal he made all those years ago wasn’t one he could afford to break, even if the old Wizard hadn’t kept his end of the bargain. 

“Alright, what about the summer. You won’t be working once the school term has ended correct? Consider joining me this summer and if you enjoy it, perhaps I can discuss an arrangement with the Headmaster,” you tried to negotiate with him, making him an offer you were sure he couldn’t make an excuse for. You stared at him, waiting for an answer, but all you saw was an expression full of doubt, need and regret. You were sure he would want to jump at the opportunity as much as you, that he’d enjoyed your dinner enough to want to see more of each other, to work together after you saw the passion in his notes. But still he hesitated. Still he held back.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” he said softly, like he was worried if he spoke any louder, he’d be torn away from this moment. Never had he seen anyone fight for him as much as you did now. Never had he felt his presence actually wanted even when you knew he didn’t have the best history with Lupin, you still pushed to have him work with you. He was so incredibly flustered by the thought, thrown back and as much as he wanted to accept, to throw away his life and start a new one with you, he couldn’t abandon the Potter boy, especially after he’d proven himself in need of a silent shadow guarding these past few years. If he left, he was sure the boy would die within a year, the school falling apart, the war breaking out sooner than expected. His place was at Hogwarts, beside Dumbledore, fate had declared it so. 

“Say you’ll at the very least consider it,” you pleaded with him, instinctively taking his hand in yours as you moved closer to him. “And perhaps we can discuss it further next time we have dinner together.”

You offered up your second plan, needing very much to see him again, even if it was for a few casual hours over a meal again. A date perhaps, a proper one where you didn’t have to sneak away from people like children. And as Severus squeezed your hand in return, you thought perhaps there was hope for you after all, that you hadn’t imagined the sudden spark that had ignited over dinner. Looking up, your eyes met his and you saw the softest smile, a twinkle of desire hidden deep within those dark orbs that carried the weight of the world. 

“You’re welcome at Hogwarts at any time,” he offered in a whisper. He couldn’t find it in him to reject you completely, how could he after the rejection he’d known all his life. He wanted to keep the door open for you, to possibly pursue something with you if not a romantic or work relationship, then a friendship instead. You’d turned out to be such a breath of fresh air, something he hadn’t realized he needed, but he didn’t want to give it up all for the chance at redemption for his past mistakes. “If you’d just send me an owl in advance, I can make arrangement for you,”

“I’d like that,” you eagerly accepted his promise, making note to begin writing to him the moment you got back home. 

“It’s getting rather late. I should make my way before it gets too dark.” Severus broke the moment with such reluctance, he almost wanted to take it back the second the words slipped his tongue. But he didn’t want to be rude and stay longer than he was welcomed, nor could he afford to stay a night in a place like this. He knew it was best to leave now before he got too attached to you that he’d find himself happily running away to the edge of the world if you’d ask it of him. 

Your smile faded, your gaze dropping in disappointment and it almost broke his heart. You understood of course, but you didn’t want him to go. You would have gladly let him stay all night long if he wished it, but you knew how odd of an offer that would be, especially after his reluctance to accept your first two. Your hand slipped from his as you both stood, Severus gathering his belongings before making his way to the door. He opened it and took a step outside, turning around to face you.

“Until next time Severus Snape,” you said with one last smile, happy to receive one back. You closed the door before you did something you’d regret and drag him back inside, kidnapping the man for your own benefit and leaned on the door, throwing your head back as you closed your eyes and replayed the night in your mind. 

Severus found himself unable to move the second the door closed and it wasn’t until he heard footsteps coming his way that his thoughts finally returned to him. He looked over to the side and saw a very stuned Remus Lupin frozen in his place as he stared at Severus. A smirk made its way to his lips as he finally found the strength to begin making his way out. Passing by Lupin, he held himself up high, sure to keep eye contact as his cloak left a billowing trail behind him. Tonight had truly gone much better than he’d expected, his own jealousy of you and Lupin conquered, a potential relationship brewing and he’d gotten the privilege all those pompous fouls downstairs would give an arm and leg for. 

He’d left an impression on you, one he was sure you would not forget and with the cufflinks he’d left waiting for you to find in the middle of the glass table, he was positive he’d hear from you again. Nothing could ruin his current mood, not even the thought of returning to a school with a walking, living curse destined to bring about the end of him because he’d found the one thing he’d spent all these years searching for; a reason to keep going, a purpose beyond redemption, a chance at a normal life.

~

A/N: Ok I have no idea how this story ended up so long ,but then things happened and stuff... and here we are. I didn’t know how it would end, but I also didn’t want to rush the ending and just force them to end up together so hopefully I did it justice. This probably needs a part two lets be honest 😅

[itsuki-minamy]

WONDERFUL SCHOOL DAYS: MY PRECIOUS RED

CHAPTER 1: START

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: skyflyinginaction

* Gakuen K (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Suddenly she raises her face to the sound of something rolling.

It looked like it was a dolly.

The morning dew turned everything milky white.

The light red of cherry blossoms stretched over her and the world turned pink.

A school route that shouldn't be there yet.

The refreshing air that touched the surroundings was cold, humid, and heavy.

The cool green was also wet with dew and reflected the morning sun softened by mist.

There was still a little time left before the morning dew cleared, the air warmed with the breath of the students going to school, and spring felt warm and joyful.

"Super Ashinaka High School, huh."

From today she will attend classes here.

Her new uniform was a bit embarrassing.

A mixture of anxiety and tension, she could barely sleep last night. She should be weak in the morning, but she woke up at 5 in the morning.

She was told that she had to go to the school principal's office in front of the classroom to register and receive various explanations from her teacher in the staff room. So she left early, but it may have been a little too early.

She walked alone before a row of cherry blossoms full of morning dew.

Being alone in a world that melts into light red made her uncomfortable.

She decided to move to this school because she no longer wanted to be alone. But after all, she had the unpleasant feeling that she here she too would be alone.

Thinking it too much, she wondered what to do with everything from the first day of moving, but she kept thinking.

"……!"

When she was desperately trying to get rid of the anxiety that was born when she moved out, she heard a jerky sound again.

"Ah?"

Was there anyone? At this time of day?

Suffering from loneliness and anxiety, she was scared and ran away. She continued to the plaza in front of the school building.

In the gradually fading milky-white morning dew, she gasped as she encountered a figure that seemed drawn in light ink.

Along with the sound she heard earlier, the shadow made strange movements.

She was a little scared, but at the same time, her curiosity grew.

Beyond the miserable line of sight, there was a boy.

A boy in a black school uniform.

Navy blue hat. Peculiar auburn hair that bounced.

The open-chested shirt was hemmed at the pants and was a bit baggy.

She instinctively looked at the bright sky blue jacket he was wearing.

A school uniform? Hey? What? Student from another school?

But here on the school grounds? But the uniform here was...

"……?"

She didn't know why, but she tilted her head.

However, when she suddenly saw his feet, she was convinced of only one thing. Ah, she already understood it. That shaking sound was the sound of a skateboard.

The boy, who seemed unaware of her existence, was skating and skating, whether he was playing or practicing.

She thought he was jumping energetically. He turned the skateboard under his feet a few laps and got back on the skateboard. He spun on impulse, lifted the skateboard with one foot, and mounted again.

Although he was gliding at considerable speed, he avoided obstacles like nothing.

A series of light techniques that made him feel like the skateboard was part of his body.

Crack...

Involuntarily, she likes it.

She wondered if she could do it, or she would fall terribly.

How will he balance it? Why does that skateboard stick to his feet even if he jumps? It was strange…

It was like playing with the wind. It was like the wind itself.

Light, fast, refreshing and unpredictable. Freedom anywhere.

There was nothing to bind or trap him now.

His appearance was carefree and he didn't seem to have anything to do with worries and problems.

Integrating with the wind as he wanted.

It was at that moment that she became curious and was watching every move he made.

"Ah?"

The boy with the skateboard got on the railing of the stairs and went down.

"What?"

In an instant he was gone and involuntarily screamed.

Hey? Uh, it can't be! He fell?!

Before thinking, her feet moved forward. She was running out of breath.

She immediately reached the stairs and stood on them. Looking down with her heart pounding, he seemed to skid over the railing, landing brilliantly at the bottom. He slid down as he was and leapt to the top.

Did he hear her when he inadvertently held her chest with both hands and took a relieved breath?

Her shoulders shook and she quickly looked up at him.

"……!"

He had amazing eyes. Sharp, fierce, warlike, and savage. Hot and strong. It was like a flame.

She took a breath and opened her eyes. He looked at her too.

At that moment, he suddenly turned bright red and hurriedly turned around.

As he was, he kicked the ground several times and accelerated. Without stopping, he left her behind.

"Wait."

She swallowed the words that rose to her throat, surprised that the words were coming out of her throat.

She rambled a bit and lowered her hand, which reflexively pursued his back.

She felt that she wanted to see a more splendid technique, but it was a bit disappointing, but was it enough to stop him?

She turned her head and turned around.

The morning dew was quite sunny and the petals of the cherry blossoms fluttered happily in the blue sky.

"I am Konohana Saya. Thanks."

The letters "Konohana Saya" written on the board. When she bowed her head, she received crackles and scant applause.

Super high school "Ashinaka", 2nd grade group.

Ashinaka Junior High School, an integrated education school from kindergarten through college. This island centered around the school is called "Super Ashinaka Gakuenjima".

The economy is established only on the island and it feels like another country other than Japan. In fact, it seems that few people come to the island, even if they are not related to the school.

Until recently, she didn't even know such a school existed. She found out about it from a letter of recommendation to move suddenly.

But she believed that this was exactly like a ship for migration.

At the time, she was in a situation where she had to transfer to another school and hopefully she would stay away from her parents and the environment around her.

So, she came to this school, which has a dormitory on this island far from her parents' house, and they recommended that she move.

Suppressing her nervous, throbbing chest, she looked around her at all who will be her classmates.

"……!"

And then, she gasped when she saw the boy with a bat on the window seat.

Eh? Was he the boy from this morning?

Was that boy from this school? Was he wearing a black school uniform?

Behind him... a big blond boy with sunglasses, he was wearing the same school clothes.

Why just those guys?

The moment she turned her neck, she realized she was wrong.

She was wrong. Not just those guys.

On the side of the hall, she glanced at the boy who was looking away.

The boy with glasses was wearing a pure white school uniform.

She did not believe that the uniform was free choice. She had not seen such a guide.

Then why?

When she was filling her head with question marks, the master said, "Then, Yukizome-san. Please take care of her.", and he walked around the main room.

In the classroom, where there was a lot of noise when the teacher left, she was a little anxious and looked around her. A girl with sincere and friendly eyes ran up to her and smiled at her a friendly smile.

"Yes. Transfer student. Nice to meet you. I'm Kukuri Yukizome."

"Yukizome-san."

"Call me Kukuri. I'll call you Saya-chan too."

She was relieved that she had a carefree smile.

"So, Kukuri-chan."

"Hehehe. If you have any questions, ask me anything! I'll show you around the school today after classes, but trust me for whatever you need."

"So what comes first?"

Kukuri begins by explaining the PDA, which is a student ID card.

Ah... the uniform. She had wasted the time to ask.

She wanted to know about the boy she saw in the morning, but at that moment Kukuri's explanation was more important. She couldn't be rude to overlook her kindness.

She regains her mind and look directly at Kukuri.

After all, that question solved itself after lunch.

"It looks delicious!"

Around the same time that the teacher left the classroom, she looked for a place to sit for lunch, and suddenly they hugged her from behind her.

"Kyaa!"

"Oh, I'm hungry! It smells good!"

When she hurriedly glanced back over her shoulder, she met stunning strange eyes, blue and gold, and her eyes widened.

She was a beautiful girl. Literally, truly, a beautiful girl.

White skin and cherry cheeks. Long straight light red hair.

A boy with silver-white hair and tender eyes came towards her, who was stunned and hardened, and clasped his hands in a hurry.

"Sorry. Hey, Neko!"

"Shiro! That gohan smells delicious! This class was really difficult!"

Hmm? Is it a delicious gohan smell?

Eh? Isn't that the delicious smell of gohan?

Kukuri smiles bitterly beside her like a poker.

"Wagahai-chan, Saya-chan = Gohan, right?"

"Yes!"

"Yes!" She said cheerfully.

"Sorry. Neko isn't good at remembering people's names. She's not malicious."

"Eh? Oh, it's fine. I don't feel uncomfortable. I was surprised."

Um... when she looked at the boy, she thought he realized the meaning of that line of sight. The boy smiled and bowed quickly.

"I'm Yashiro Isana. Everyone calls me Shiro. So I'm glad you call me that too. That girl is Neko. Shiro and Neko."

"Shiro-kun."

"Yes. And this is Kuro."

A boy approached before she knew it. He had beautiful black hair and straight black eyes.

"I am Kuroh Yatogami. As a classmate, thank you for your continued support."

"Huh? Oh, yeah! This is it!"

Unexpectedly, she bowed at the harsh self-introduction. She was shocked. By no means, when she introduced herself, have they thanked her for any support.

"Shiro~. I'm hungry~."

"So, let's make a lunch box. Konohana-san, we'll let you go then. Konohana-san has to have lunch too."

"Bento!"

Neko suddenly let go of her and looked at Yatogami-kun's heavy weight with her eyes shining.

"Hmm. Okay. Then Saya-chan, let's go. I'll show you the school cafeteria and tell you the location of the shopping department."

"Eh? But…"

Kukuri's hand seemed to have a lunch box.

"If it's a cafeteria, I think I can go alone with the navigation system. That's Kukuri-chan's lunch box, right?"

"That's right, let me go with you. Oh! I'm not just a guide am I? I want to eat lunch with Saya-chan."

"Eh? Ah…"

She said those words softly to her. She was so happy that she was going to cry.

"So, I take your word. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank, because I want to talk a lot and get to know you well, Saya-chan. Let's go!"

Kukuri called out to her and smiled.

She wanted to meet her. Those words were a bit shocking, but she was still happy. It was amazing that she wanted to be her friend.

They greeted Shiro and left the room together.

"Oh, it's true."

They were probably boys from another class. She remembered the uniform when she saw the boy in the black school uniform fluttering around and came forward.

"Hey, Kukuri-chan.", she told her as she showed her the back of the boy who was walking away from her.

"Why do some guys have different uniforms?"

"Oh, that boy belongs to a special club."

"Special club?"

"Yes. Special club activities. It is one of the characteristics of this school. There are seven special club activities at this school in addition to the regular club activities. Club members will be able to use special skills when they join the club. They are popular among students, because the word "special ability" is great, isn't it? But only the "chosen ones" recognized by each director can join the club."

The word "special ability" surprised her.

"Only the chosen ones?"

"Yes. Not everyone can enter. In that sense, it is 'special'. The one wearing that black school uniform is from the red club."

"Red club... There were two people in the class, right?"

"Yes. Yata-kun and Kamamoto-kun. Yata-kun has auburn hair and a hat. Misaki Yata. The boy with the big sunglasses is Rikio Kamamoto."

"Yata-kun. I see. His name is Yata-kun...", she thought.

"Some boys wore white school uniforms, right? That boy was from the blue club. Fushimi Saruhiko-kun."

"Blue. So all seven of them have different uniforms?"

"No. There is also a regular uniform section. For example, the silver part. There is also a club that wears a rabbit mask and wears a ninja costume only during club activities."

"Eh?"

Ninja costume?

Did she wonder why? Was she the only one to whom all this was really suspicious?

"In this school, the special club activities are something special. Well, I think you will know right away. Oh, Saya-chan. There are several ways to get to the cafeteria and the shopping department, but the shortest route is to through this courtyard."

"Courtyard?"

"Yes."

Saya pushed open the glass door that led to the courtyard.

"Wow..."

She involuntarily screamed into the courtyard, which was much bigger than she expected.

The well-kept flowerbed had colorful spring flowers. The fresh green of the plantation was also visible.

The lush grass. No trash had fallen on the cobblestones. Light pink petals fluttered from the beautiful and splendid cherry blossoms. The white garden table and chairs below were very fascinating. It would be very nice to deliver her lunch there.

"Ah, but it's better to stop by on limited menu day. I think it's best to tour the school building. There are plenty of places to shop."

What?

"Eh? Did you buy it now? I heard it well?"

Eh? A joke? Would they laugh?

Kukuri just laughed kindly, "Yes. Is that true?"

"As Miwa-san says, it is a tactic. It is a strategy to expel the rivals. Most of the students cross the courtyard, so the courtyard is inevitably the most dangerous place."

She said it naturally, didn't she? Waiting? Was it weird that she didn't understand?

"I set up a purchase to get a limited menu... I haven't had any experience with that."

"Oh, is that true? It's interesting once you get used to it."

So it was.

But surely it would be fun to think of getting a limited menu through the differences? Should she think of it as a game?

That was when she thought about it.

"Sorry. I can't come here."

Kukuri sighed and looked back.

"Eh? Why?"

When she tilted her head, Kukuri pointed at something, saying "That." She was just looking around her and, for the first time, she realized that there were a lot of people gathered there and she opened her eyes.

Also, the atmosphere was not good for compliments. It was terribly upsetting and she felt bad.

A group of black school uniforms and a group of white school uniforms staring at each other. Was it a special club activity?

People who wore black school uniforms had a slightly mischievous impression. In contrast, many of the people wearing white school uniforms appeared to have a tight look. She felt like they were honor students.

However, all white school uniforms with his honors wore sabers at the waist.

So those sabers were weapons that can kill people. What was that?

"Kukuri-chan? They seem to be looking at each other, but what the hell are they doing? And what they have around their hips is a saber, right?"

"It's a conflict. What they wear on their waists is a saber."

"What?"

The answer is so simple that she doubts the ears of her.

"Conflict... is that a fight?"

"Of course it is."

"Eh? Are they fighting? Students?"

"Oh. It's a good reaction. Fresh and cool. Okay. You'll be surprised at first, but you'll get used to it. It's the usual thing."

What was that reaction?! It was really weird.

She realized that she was used to conflict.

However, when she looked around her, there were people looking away, but no one was surprised or made noise, and it seemed that Kukuri's reaction was correct there. She said it was a statement of fight, maybe the common sense of this school was a little strange?

Struggling to understand, she returned to a group of gazes.

"Oh, Yata-kun..."

"Yes. I told you that he is a member of the red club and wears a black school uniform. There is also Kamamoto-kun."

Kukuri pointed a finger at that big blond boy with sunglasses.

"Most of the red club members are bad. Oh, but that's fine, you'll be sure. We don't take the word 'bad' as a bad thing, so they are accepted by the students in general."

Eh? What kind of place was this? She didn't understand anything.

"Isn't it bad?"

"Hmm. It may be wrong to use the word 'bad', it doesn't mean they are bad people. How to say it? I think it's like people who aren't good to keep up with everyone. People who live their own way can be the closest ones. The principal is Mikoto Suoh, a third-year student. He is also one of the heads of this school, it is said that he has a lot of fights. You see, it's that red-haired person next to Yata-kun."

Kukuri points to the person in the middle of the black group.

Chillingly sharp red eyes. Tense and delicate cheeks.

Was he really older? He seemed charismatic. Regardless, his presence was astonishing.

"The blue club are wearing the white school uniform. They have excellent grades and good behavior. Most of the members of the group are super elite who also serve as student organizers and members of the disciplinary committee. The activities are the maintenance of discipline, student orientation, activities such as leading students at a school event, etc."

Discipline, right? Eh? So... what about sabers? Isn't it a violation of the law to use weapons and swords?

"That's why they don't seem to get along with the blues from one point of view. The director of the blue club is Reisi Munakata, a third year student. He is the director of the Student Organization within the School, the example! of exemplary behavior!"

That's right, the central figure of the white group that Kukuri later showed was like the "exemplary student".

Sharp glasses with calm and cool eyes. He listened to the red club swearing with a sweet smile on his lips, as if he were listening to classical music.

"You saw the one next to him in the hall, right? That's Fushimi Saruhiko-kun."

"Fushimi-kun."

"That's why I can't come through here. It's hard to get involved."

Well, could they involve her?

She was scared and just wanted to get out of there immediately.

"Hey, Monkey! Bastard, say it again!"

However, at that moment, a strong voice rang out from the courtyard.

She turned around and looked at the group again.

"Oh, I'll tell you a few times. Your power is below mine. MI SA KI."

Fushimi laughed vividly. Delighted, as if he was intoxicated with something.

He was creepy.

What was that look?

Furthermore, Misaki really looked angry.

"Hmm...! I can't take it! I'll take you down!"

Yata jumped up, fierce fury fading into his eyes. That's it… Misaki is Yata's name.

Suddenly, his classmates began to move.

"Wow. It's started. This is the end of the story for the special part. We have to move fast."

Kukuri came out in a hurry.

But she couldn't answer.

She was fascinated by the fiery bat metal that rose from Yata's hands.

What? It was certainly a flame.

Born from empty space, grew up in the blink of an eye and covered Yata's hands.

She was stunned by the fist that burned like a torch.

"What?"

"Saya-chan?"

The shape was slightly different, but everyone in it was able to easily create a flame and target the blue club. The members of the blue club also drew sabers one after another and defended themselves.

It wasn't just a saber, there was a blue light on the blade.

Is that a special ability?

It's like the magic that appears in the story... Wasn't it a dream?

Well then, what about her...?

"Saya-chan!"

Her shoulders were shaking and she suddenly returned to herself.

"Ah... sorry. Kukuri-chan..."

"Okay. It's dangerous here. Let's go now."

"Yes."

At that moment, Kukuri urged her to move quickly.

Yes, it was exactly a fight. Other students in the courtyard were screaming.

"Ah!"

Looking back, the first thing she saw was a knife with a red lotus flame approaching them.

And that was the last thing. She didn't have time to think about anything.

"Kukuri-chan, it's dangerous!"

Kukuri's body moved quickly. At that moment, a flash of light enveloped her.

In the bright light she was unable to open her eyes, and a tremendous destructive sound was heard.

"Tsu!"

However, it was only a moment, and soon the light disappeared like a lie.

However, the numb ears remained as they were, and the sound of the world that was lost immediately after the destructive sound had not yet returned, leaving only a high-pitched beep.

She thoughtfully held her ears with her hands and shook her head to shake her eyes and limbs from her.

A vague hum came from a distance, and she suddenly lowered her eyes over Kukuri in her arms.

"Ah...! Kukuri-chan, are you hurt?"

"No. I'm fine. Nothing happened to me, but... Saya-chan..."

"Eh?"

"Well, the light is coming out of Saya-chan's body, but..."

"Ah!"

She was surprised by the words. She quickly released Kukuri and looked at her hands.

Both hands had a vague white light. Her whole body was in that state. It was as if she herself was emitting light.

When she looked around her hastily, the stone pavement was severely broken and scraped only around her. It was like they had excavated with heavy equipment or something.

The knife... strangely, it pierced the stone pavement with the flame burning.

The knife turned to stone. It was also deep. That should not be the case.

"Ah!"

Many of the impossible visions piled up and the blood rose again. Reflectively she hug her.

Oh! She again...

"Saya-chan. What's wrong?"

Kukuri's question chilled her back.

When she stood up, she took a step back and walked away from Kukuri.

"Saya-chan...?"

Kukuri's astonished face stared at her back.

What did she have to do? What was she to answer?

She didn't even know what that was.

It was at that time...

"A 'skill', right?"

A sweet, low and gentle voice resonated with the usual sound of his shoes.

When she shook her shoulders and raised her face, the person standing there was Reisi Munakata, who was the head of the blue clan and the Student Organization within the school.

In his hand was a sword that glowed pale.

It was horrible, but... no, more than that.

"Skill...?"

She was amazed at the words she heard for the first time.

"Yes. People with innate special abilities are called 'Strain'."

With that said, Reisi Munakata put the saber in the scabbard and pulled up his glasses with his fingers.

"The power of a Strain sometimes hurts people."

A painful memory crossed her mind at that moment.

She instinctively she pursed her lips.

"It is also our job to prevent that from happening. The other day, there was a report that a Strain had entered the island, but are you a transfer student?"

With a rattling noise, Munakata took a step closer. He turned and took a step back.

"The birth of a talented person off campus is infinitely equal to zero."

"Oh, that, I ..."

"In other words, the exception is that you are a Strain. Transfer student Konohana Saya. If you don't resist, nothing bad will happen to you. Surrender quietly and quickly."

Surrender.

As usual, a soft, sweet smile on his lips.

However, there was a dignified and sharp light in the eyes behind the glasses, showing that the words weren't a joke.

"Here we go."

Reisi Munakata approached her.

She knew she must accept. She should quietly surrender.

But what would happen as a result of the surrender? She already knew what to do after that.

She didn't want to think like that again!

A trauma revived in the back of her eyes.

She shook her head violently and took a step back. And when she held her head, she screamed.

"I do not like it!"

"……"

At that moment, the flame worn by the knife driven into the stone pavement on the rocky shore swayed and suddenly turned into a terrible glow.

Munakata was shocked and flew away.

At the same time, a column of fire that was burning the heavens unnaturally swelled and surrounded her.

"Eh?"

The heat increased and the view was surrounded by flames.

Although she glanced around her hastily, it was a flame on one side. A flame surrounded her.

What?! What was happening?!

No way, this was her too?!

"What...?"

She thought about it for a moment. Suddenly feeling congested, she looked at her limbs.

She got worse and worse and she knelt on the spot.

"What?"

The field of view was blurry. The smoke soaked her and tears came out, she spilled and got wet, she was fed by the heat and she dried herself quickly

Her head was shaking and she fell.

"Evacuate!"

Was it Munakata senpai? A sharp voice rang out.

Beyond the flames she was terribly crowded, with countless footsteps flapping.

"......"

Why did this happen?

The earth was burned, the sky, while the flames protected it and prevented other invasions.

No, it could be the other way around. Maybe to protect everyone from her. She maybe she was trapped in a fire ship so as not to harm her surroundings again.

That's. The witch must be burned at the stake. So the price to pay is fixed. She is not a good common person.

"Cough..."

She fell and coughed.

It was painful. The air was not getting well into her lungs.

Severe pain ran down her left hand.

It was a stabbing pain, but she could no longer move her body.

She tried to stand up, but she couldn't even see anymore.

However, as if she were hazy, her consciousness blurred and vanished.

(Oh really. Why did this happen?), she thought.

She wanted peace. But that was it. It must have been terribly modest.

It was at that time.

"Reject."

Lowly, a voice echoed out.

When she opened her eyes slightly at being invited by that voice, a black figure appeared in the fire in front of her. She seemed to rush there without hesitation.

No way, because such a burning flame. She couldn't just touch him and be sure.

It sure was a hallucination. It was a convenient illusion, because no one would come to her like this.

The moment she thought that, she felt something put on her head.

She was surprised by the feeling. Her vague awareness woke up and she opened her eyes.

Immediately afterwards, she had the sensation that her body was floating gently.

She didn't scream (she couldn't), but she was in awe.

When she hurriedly raised her face, it was red that was occupying her field of vision.

His red hair swayed from the heat and his red eyes stared directly at her.

Certainly, Suoh. He was the head of the red clan.

She gently touched what she had on her head.

Something with sleeves and black, maybe the school uniform?

Suoh said "Let's go.", while he held her, but did not understand the situation (it was not a hug like holding a princess, but a hug where she felt his arm. As parents do with small children).

Go where? How?

However, she still couldn't say those words.

And it seemed that he did not ask for her consent, and Suoh began to walk with her in his arms without waiting for her response, towards the flame.

It was no longer a scary story, and she reflexively tightened Suoh's shirt and supported her face to cling to his shoulders, but strangely it was no longer hot. The flame that had burned her skin a while ago was completely gone.

On the contrary, the cooling breeze immediately caressed her feet and her hair, and she widened her eyes in amazement.

"Hey! Transfer student!"

At the same time, a strong voice echoed out from the vicinity.

The voice was the same that started the fight, she shook her shoulders and raised her face from him.

His fierce eyes were now terribly anxious, painful, and distorted.

Yata.

Nor did her voice come out.

"You, your hands..."

Yata's expression, who seemed to be terribly surprised, slowly looked at her left hand. Both her blazer and shirt were charred and the back of her hand was swollen red.

Looking around her, the pillar of fire was still there. Behind Suoh and her.

How did they get out of it? What the hell happened?

As he held her in a self-defeating state, Suoh looked around him.

When she turned her gaze from her to him as if she was invited, she saw Munakata and Fushimi holding a saber.

Behind them, people in white uniforms were still busy moving.

Suoh stared at them, raised the edge of his lips and laughed lightly.

"This girl is mine."

Saying that he began to walk calmly.

She had a lot to say, but she couldn't get it right, she couldn't speak, and she closed her eyes softly, clinging to his neck.

"It's a clubroom, but... sorry I rarely use it. It's dirty."

Silky light brown hair. A good man with tender eyes offered her a can of juice and smiled.

"I am Totsuka Tatara. I am a third year student from the red club."

"Totsuka-senpai."

"Yes. You burned yourself, are you okay? How about the infirmary?"

After that, Suoh took her straight to the infirmary.

Her wound was a burn on her left hand. A slight low-temperature burn on her right knee. When she fell, she hurt her left knee a bit. It looked like her left hand was a bit awful.

She let the burns cool, then applied an ointment, covered with a bandage, insured and strap up.

All she had to do is wash, disinfect, and apply an ointment.

The time was about fifteen minutes, but during that period, the members of the red club stayed in front of the infirmary and nobody could get close, so it became a bit of a scandal.

So the nurse told her to rest, but she rejected that and immediately left the infirmary.

At the time, she was surrounded by a group of black school uniforms and in the meantime, she was led into a somewhat crowded empty classroom.

Several desks and chairs were stacked in one corner, and an old black leather couch was placed in the shape of three triangles. Juice cans and bottles were placed on the central floor, and it was really like a "gathering place".

Oh, Suoh? Suoh left her with the nurse and left immediately, but where did he go? He wasn't there either.

He had helped her and she wanted to thank him.

Sitting on one of the couches, Totsuka, who was sitting next to her, offered her some juice and looked at her left hand, which was bandaged.

"The burn on your left hand seems to be a bit terrible. You should go to the hospital after school."

At her words, Yata, who was near the door, made his shoulders explode.

"Yes. I am concerned. I hope there are no marks left."

Scars?

"Scars, what ..."

That didn't matter to her.

When she smiled and shook her head, Totsuka frowned.

"Um...?"

"I have to find a new school again."

"Eh...?"

When Totsuka was surprised, his eyes rounded.

That was a bit strange.

She was sure that this person was also in the yard. It was very strange to see that and not think "why?"

She smiled selfishly and slowly spread her hands.

"I have a power that ordinary people don't have. Did you see it? A while ago, in the courtyard. I did that in the previous school. I broke the school building in half, injuring a lot of people. That made me incapable of stay at the old school."

"……"

"That is exactly what Munakata-senpai said. I hurt a lot of people with my abilities. I have done something irreparable."

People from the red club were looking at her.

"Living as a 'normal person' in this school. Hide the ability. Never let my abilities go crazy. Do not disturb anyone, just control myself, do not stand out anyway and live calmly. That's what I imagined."

But it does not work. No way, and it all happened on the first day.

Oh, no matter how she fixed it, she was a "monster".

"Guh!"

She couldn't do anything else.

It went dark in front of her.

That show that never went away while kept burning in her mind.

Perhaps even a big earthquake happened, a part of the school building was ruined and turned into ruins.

Students who were at that time. A blue sheet placed in the schoolyard. The groan that filled the place. A bloodstained towel. And…

Involuntarily, she clenched her back teeth tightly.

She was unharmed. It was as if she was protected by the light emitted from her body.

A mixed look of amazement and fear towards her. It soon turned into disgust. Neither her friends, her classmates nor her eldest looked at her. They didn't try to get involved. Even the teacher looked away from her.

Even her family was scared and they always tried to be in a good mood. If they were in a bad mood, that house would be destroyed next. Her parents believed they could be attacked.

She lost everything that was important at the time.

She didn't want to repeat that feeling.

"No, wait. Um, Konohana-san, right? You don't have to do that. Konohana-san, you can stay here. Rather, I think you should be in this school. The "Ashinaka Super High School" is a school. where talented people meet."

"Eh? Are you gathering talented people?"

"That's right. Did you ask anyone about extracurricular activities?"

"That is…"

She had heard it.

But it was a story where you could use special abilities when you entered a special club, wasn't it a story that people with abilities met in this school?

At her words, Totsuka understood easily.

"That's right. That's true for most, but some people have the ability before joining the club, like you."

"Ah… Before joining?"

"Yes. It is training. But that is not what I mean. The important thing is that there are many talented people in this school. The skills are both congenital and acquired. That is this. It is the 'normal' of the school. You understand It is not "abnormal"."

"It is normal..."

"Yes, no one discriminates against talented people."

Discriminate?

"But... that person, Munakata-senpai said that I should give up..."

"That's because your ability is a mystery. I think I wanted to have it on hand before the hardships happened. It seems that Strains are rarely born outside of the school island."

Does that mean that she was a "foreigner" among talented people?

"You are so different from other talented people that he wanted to keep you close and monitor you."

She involuntarily clenched her back teeth and squeezed her skirt tightly.

Her burned left hand ached, prompting tears.

Why? Why did he have that ability?

The overflowing sound slid gently down her cheeks, and the voice of Totsuka and the members of the red club breathing in the room echoed out.

She didn't need something like that. That is why she lost everything. On top of that, he said it was different in another way and will likely be a target in the future. Until she surrenders, until she's under his control.

She didn't want to be a talented person. She wanted to be normal.

All she wanted was "peace". That was all.

Normally, she just wanted to enjoy school life every day. Why wasn't even that allowed?

"Usually I want to enjoy school life. I don't need any skills..."

"Uh..."

That's when she told him to leave her and roughly wiped her tears away.

"That was wrong!"

Yata, who had been standing in front of the door until then, suddenly threw himself in front of her and sat on the ground. Then, with a loud voice echoing through the room, he screamed, "It was wrong!", and rubbed his forehead against the floor.

"Eh? Ah…"

"That knife, I threw it at you!"

"……!"

""I threw the knife thrown by the monkey! Well, that's why I was the one who created the opportunity for you to use your skills!"

So it was like that.

But beyond that, she didn't know what to say.

She may have misinterpreted him as angry. Yata looked up and stared at her, then leaned down to slam his forehead hard against the ground again.

"The knife flame was probably me too! I hurt you...!"

But it was probably she who created the pillar of fire, and it was Yata who was injured.

She shook her head and wanted to say it. No, she was trying to say it.

But before that, Yata raised his head again, stared at her and yelled, "I won't let you do that!"

His eyes pierced her and held burning flames.

Dedicated to it, he gasped.

"Yata-kun..."

"Thanks to you, I didn't hurt the average student! And yet my benefactor saved you... Let me make it up to you!"

"Huh? But the wound is..."

"I will never let them monitor and control you! I will not let you do that!"

She involuntarily lost her words at the powerful scream.

"I won't let the blue club do anything! I promise to take care of other departments too!"

There was no hesitation in his hot eyes.

It was a trustworthy word that she could understand from the bottom of her heart and made her heart warm.

"I'll protect you!"

"Ah…"

"It has nothing to do with talented people or Strain! You are you! Enjoying normal school life, it is not allowed to do anything to you! Absolutely!"

"Yata-kun ..."

"Like I said, you'll be fine! So... uh, uh, don't cry, uh... that face..."

Yata lowered his eyebrows as if he was in trouble.

But still, Yata did not take his eyes off her.

"Guh..."

The tears overflowed again.

"What?! Did I say something strange?! Or did your wound hurt?"

Yata fluttered hastily and looked at her.

He was wrong. That was not. What should he do? She was happy.

She was a "monster" and there were people who wanted to "protect" her.

She could have hope and "peace", be "normal". That was forgiven.

She never thought that she would get a word like that.

Oh what should she do? She was happy!

When she brought her hands together, she squeezed her eyes tight.

Yata's worried voice, "Hey, Konohana…" made her heart flutter.

"Ah…"

She was glad. Her heart was full and she couldn't say anything more.

She could not believe it. From that day on, her life was going to change completely. She had experienced it. They hurt her and she suffered. It was still in her, too vivid a memory.

Talented people weren't special. She could stay at this school. She should calm down. Although she was happy with just that word, they would protect her.

She now she was normal.

She could enjoy her school life in peace and safety.

Will she be forgiven? Such thing. Furthermore, she, who caused such an incident...

(Oh, but I don't want to be a "monster" anymore! I'm so scared of myself! I want to recover "every day".), she thought.

"Hmm..."

Nobody said anything anymore.

Yata didn't even say, "Don't cry."

They were all there, silent.

A bell rang on the way to announce the start of classes, but no one seemed to mind that.

He was kind and gentle and surrounded her.

"Konohana?"

Kamamoto looked at her.

After skipping class for an hour, she returned to the classroom with Yata and Kamamoto, but she was scared and she stopped in front of the door.

Kamamoto breathed as she clasped her hands, holding her breath.

"Are you afraid?"

"……"

"Okay. There's Yata-san. I'm also."

"It's true, but..."

"Okay. Maybe there's nothing Konohana should be worried about."

Was that so?

Was it really possible that they saw her with the same eyes as this morning when she knew nothing happened?

"Okay. Come in."

But she couldn't escape.

She couldn't say that she couldn't get into the classroom if she was going to stay at that school.

She took a deep breath and desperately suppressed the tremors in her body.

When she looked up, Yata looked at her and opened the door.

Kamamoto patted him on the back.

She takes a breath and half shaking she enter the classroom.

"…!"

Immediately afterwards, the classroom, which had been noisy until then, quieted down.

At that moment, something cold ran down her back.

Ah! Ah! After all, she couldn't lift her face and closed her eyes. Was when…

"Hey, Saya-chan!"

It was Kukuri's strong voice.

Then there were turbulent steps and they grabbed her by the shoulders.

When she opened her eyes in amazement, Kukuri's crying face appeared right in front of her.

"I was worried! Oh, bandages! You're hurt! Oh, your legs! Do you hurt? Are you okay? I was worried because you didn't come back soon."

Shiro and his friends also run towards her with other classmates.

Was this a reality?

"Kukuri-chan..."

"Thanks for your help on the courtyard! I'm sorry I couldn't thank you right away!"

That said, Kukuri hugged her.

The warmth of her finally made her realize that this was not a dream.

Her back back of her nose hurt, and at the same time, her chest.

"Kukuri-chan... Am I not unpleasant?"

"Hey, why?"

Kukuri looked into her eyes as if she didn't really understand her meaning.

"Because, this ability..."

"Yeah?! I don't believe that at all. You were great as an ally of justice, right?"

"Ah..."

"Because you are a lifesaver, I don't think I could feel uncomfortable. Tell me if there is anyone who thinks otherwise! I will preach for about three hours! Hey?"

At Kukuri's words, Shiro and Yatogami took control.

"Ah..."

Oh, she already understood... what should she do? She was happy.

The exact opposite of the previous school. But it may be that she used to hurt people with her abilities, and this time she protected people with her abilities. Still, it's the same thing that was destroyed here and there with the non-human ability. However, by no means, would it be accepted like this!

"Eh? Saya-chan? Why are you crying?"

"Gohan~? What's wrong? Does it hurt?"

Both of her hands caressed it gently.

That invited more tears.

When she suddenly looked for Yata, he was already moving by the window.

When Yata looked into her eyes, he turned red and turned away from her. That was not the case a little while ago. Kamamoto gave him a small blow.

Finally, she was relieved.

She took a deep breath and put her hand on Kukuri's back.

++++++++++

"Yata-san! I'm here!"

Around the same time that the teacher was leaving the main room, the members of the red club entered and greeted Yata.

"Oh, come in."

"Understood."

"Wow, Saya-chan."

"Eh?"

Wow, she?

As she prepared to go home while glancing at him, she was shocked when she was suddenly called by her name. Surprised, she looked at the boy who was looking at her with a smiling face.

"What?"

"Oh, hi. I'm Chitose Yo. This guy next to me is Dewa. We're sophomores and members of the red club."

"Chitose-san and Dewa-san?"

"Yeah. The blonde over there is Eric. It was a bit noisy to get into the room, I wonder if it would have been better later. Let's go first."

Eh? Where?

"This is your bag."

"Eh?"

"Yes. Princess. Please give me your hand. Right hand. Take your left hand, don't you?"

"Eh?"

What? What was happening?

When she looked at Yata with a feeling of confusion, for no apparent reason, he turned red and turned around. Kamamoto who was next to her raised his hand and said: "Okay."

But that was it. She did not understand the meaning.

As she filled her head with question marks, they gently lifted her up and carried her out of the classroom.

(What? Well, wait. Where are we really going?), she thought.

"Ah, that? Where are we going?"

"Let's go to the red club room."

"Eh? Let's have lunch, that?"

"Oh, no. Not there. It's where we usually hang out."

Eh? Oh, that's right, Totsuka said, "We rarely use the place for lunch."

"Yes. That's right. I'll show you, so follow me."

He asked Dewa to please give him her bag, while Chitose tugged at his hand.

A boy in sunglasses and a hoodie under his school uniform pushed his back.

Behind it was a slim blond boy. Next to them, a boy who seemed to be serious, although his hair was standing on end, seemed to be calm. There were many others.

Yata was the first to walk. Kamamoto followed him diagonally behind.

Kamamoto suddenly turned around and raised his hand saying, "Okay."

Really? No, she didn't think Yata and his friends would do something to her.

But was she worried after all? Because she didn't understand the meaning or the intention.

Why were they trying to take her to the red club?

The appearance of walking surrounded by the members in black school uniforms of the red club seemed strange, and all the students who passed by had round eyes.

"It's unreasonable, it's not good."

Anna Kushina. A mysterious Japanese teacher, a beautiful girl with long straight hair and big red eyes, looked like a girl.

It was Chitose, not Yata, who replied with a smile: "I understand."

Anna nods and passes without stopping.

She looked back over her shoulder and saw Dewa.

"Huh? What happens now?"

"Anna-sensei. Doesn't she know?"

"No, I know. I know."

"Oh, Anna-sensei, the red club advisor."

After thinking about the meaning of her question for a moment, Dewa convinced her. It was true, that's why she couldn't resist.

"We got to the living room. Yes, let's go."

"Ok. You can change clothes yourself!"

Chitose, who tried to be fragile, is hastily stopped and their shoes are changed.

Oh, she's already seen it! She can look at it with a sense of interest!

However, apart from her, they march around her began again, probably because they didn't mind the direct gaze of other students.

She was embarrassed and lightly clasped her hands in front of her chest and denied.

"Oh, should I go to the girls' dorm? I'm out of school, but something..."

Eh?!

"Is this outside of school? Even though it's a clubroom?!"

"I wonder if it is a clubroom or a place that replaces the clubroom."

"Yeah? Well that's..."

"By the way, do you think Anna-sensei and other teachers will get mad when they find out I'm going in there?"

Would they be offended?

When she asked them all of a sudden, not all of them showed a congested expression, they just looked at each other and said, "Okay."

"Yes. It's fine during the day."

She got more anxious.

It was like that, they walked a bit. She went to a bar where they took her.

The name of the store is "HOMRA".

"Homura?"

"Yes. Homura. The common name of the red club."

It was strange. Was the red club commonly known as Homura?

Retro look and nice British flair. The deep, calm red was very impressive. The gold lettering "BAR", the lights and the exterior menu board were very atmospheric and liquorous.

The tenant on the first floor... but the building itself was made of brick and the window frame was dark green. It felt like you were on an English street that you see in the movies.

She knew it was prejudice, but it wasn't a "bad hangout."

"Oh, I see. It's fine during the day because it's a bar."

"Yes, please!"

Chitose opened the door with a smile.

A bright caramel colored wooden counter that can be seen as antique. A wooden floor that squeaked when you stepped on it. A classic that flowed smoothly. Various traditional and elegant interiors. The spacious couch seats looked very comfortable.

At the back of the counter, there were many bottles of liquor.

One person was polishing glasses, had shiny auburn hair and purple glasses. She wondered if he was the age of a college student. He was like an older brother with a big smile.

"Oh, that boy?"

The boy smiled as he watched her enter.

"Then Kusanagi-san, do something sweet."

Perhaps he arrived a little earlier, Totsuka, who came out the back, beckoned her to come.

"Yes, sit there on the couch."

"Eh? Ah, that..."

"Saya-chan, right? You don't like it?"

"Huh? Oh, I can't drink alcohol."

When she answered that while she was sitting on the couch, they looked at her like everyone was shocked for a moment.

Eh?

"Ah, that?"

"Well, did you think they'd be drunk? Well, it's definitely a bar here, right? But it's not good for minors. It's a waste."

She smiled and waved her hand.

She believed that it was different for not drinking because it is not good...

Oh, but that's not what she just said.

She shook her head, looked at Totsuka and then looked back at the young man.

"I thought they were drunk, but it was about making sweets. I'm not good at cakes made with western liquor, nor compotes boiled in alcohol, although I skipped the alcohol and the rum raisins. I mean, sorry. I think I am. I said many words."

"Oh, that's how it is."

"Wow, did you think it was going to be bad?"

"Saya-chan."

She felt bad. In a hurry, he waved his hands and apologized, and put the glass he had polished on the shelf and laughed mischievously.

"If you forgive a man too much, he will eat you, don't you think?"

Eh?!

"Hmm, wait a minute. Look, you guys are scaring the princess, don't you think?"

"Ah, that?"

Eh?! Princess?!

She was surprised to hear that, but the boy started to prepare.

When she looked at Kamamoto, who was standing next to him, Kamamoto said "Oh." and he point to the young man with his hand.

"Izumo Kusanagi. He is a college student at 0B and from the red club. He is the same age as Mikoto. He is the owner of this bar."

What should she be surprised about?

Is he the same age as Suoh? Does that mean Suoh was repeating a year? So he was a college student and a business owner? College student?!

"Kusanagi-san, what about Mikoto-san?"

"He comes in the afternoon, now he is sleeping."

Kusanagi responds without stopping to Yata's question.

"Oh, upstairs? The second floor is also a store?"

"He has nothing to do with the store. He's using the empty room on the second floor as a nap spot. He's the King."

"King..."

"Mikoto-san…"

At Kamamoto's complementary explanation, she looked ahead.

Late? So after that he came there? What? And the lessons?

"The basement is the storeroom for the store and it feels like our gathering place."

"I'll tell you. Even though I'm immersed in this all year, it's never been quiet in the basement and they've interrupted my business."

At Chitose's words, involuntarily, she chuckled softly.

"Oh, now you have a nice smile."

Then Totsuka laughed, gestured with his thumb and forefinger, and looked at her.

"You brought her in because you wanted to see her smile, right? Yata."

"Eh?"

When she looks at Yata sitting on the counter, Yata turned his bright red face and turned around, saying, "Ah, that's not it!" She's been thinking about it since noon, but maybe Yata was really shy?

"Yata-kun, really?"

"Ah...! But I said you would have fun in your school life!"

When asked, Yata yelled as he looked away. His profile was tinted red, and surprisingly the red was turning redder.

He somehow embarrassed her and her cheeks heated up.

"That's right. That's why Saya-chan…"

Chitose knelt on the ground and reached out in front of her.

"Plays with us."

"……!"

"Oh, I said it, it's not because Saya-chan is a Strain. I'm sure she created that pillar of fire. I'm glad she protected the students in general. No, I'm really grateful. I think she is. It does worst thing to do to injure a student in general."

When she shook her shoulders, Chitose rushed to shake her hands and said, "Oh! I don't blame Saya-chan!"

"We want you to join this special club, we have skills too. It's different from you that you didn't even know you had the skills. We got them because we wanted it. I think there is a great responsibility there."

Totsuka looked at her and said calmly.

"That's right. It's like Chitose said."

"Everyone in the red club is grateful to Saya-chan."

"Really...?"

(Wow, thankful to me? Um... why did I do that?), she thought.

She was confused and denied, but everyone was smiling at her.

"Yes. Thank you. Oh, and we're sorry that your hand got hurt, Saya-chan. I'm not saying that because I feel responsible, only Yata got hurt."

"Eh?"

"The rest is fine. Because the red club has a reputation for being bad. It's great that you didn't see us with that kind of eyes, but, above all, seeing those tears and doing nothing would make a man leave."

"Chitose-san..."

"We're having fun. Maximize that out now. I want Konohana-san to have fun. So I thought. That's why you came to this school, right?"

"Totsuka-senpai..."

But, she was a different "Strain".

(I'm happy, but...! But it can be a hassle!), she thought.

However, no one seemed to care about that. Why?

On the contrary, everyone was very happy.

"I'm happy. The first female member! It's the first time I've seen it of all generations, isn't it? Kusanagi-san!"

"Saya-chan. It certainly is. There has never been a female member in the red club. I hope you join the club."

Kusanagi, who came out of the counter, said that and placed a fruit-filled parfait in front of her. It was cute and it looked delicious.

"Yes, here you go."

"Oh, thanks! It looks delicious..."

Well, everything was getting really good. It would be good?

The moment she received the spoon that was offered to her while thinking about it, the floor creaked.

They all looked back in surprise. Kusanagi also laughed and stood up slowly.

"Good morning, Mikoto."

Suoh, who came down from the second floor, yawning sleepily.

No one said anything, and naturally everyone turned away. There was nothing to block his red eyes staring at her.

Great charisma. A bottomless flame.

She shrugged reflectively.

That wasn't horror, it was amazement... she felt a bit shocking.

"……"

Looking at her like this, Suoh scratched his head.

Then he took a little breath and walked over to her silently and sat down casually next to her.

"Hey."

"Oh, yeah!"

"If you feel like it, join."

The hand that reached out in front of her, made her eyes open inadvertently.

She was instantly engulfed in flames, and she gasped.

"Eh?"

"Okay, it's like a rite of passage."

Totsuka told her gently, and she turned to look at him.

"A rite of passage?"

"Yes. Sorry, but it is absolutely necessary to join the red club. There are many people who cannot take that hand and stop joining, but trust."

Totsuka wiped the smile on his lips and looked directly at her.

"Trust me. We, the red club, will never hurt you."

"……"

Looking at Yata, there were some members who seemed a bit concerned, but his gaze was very sincere, determined, direct, and fiery.

She was relieved, it should be fine. She had just met them, but she could believe it. There were no lies in those words. They would protect her. She looked at everyone around her.

They were all staring at her.

She swallowed her breath and looked at him.

That's why? There was no wonder or anxiety.

Without anxiety, she had no reason to be surprised.

This is where her words wanted to come out of her throat.

When she pursed her lips, in the hand that held the flame, she placed her hand.

[sevsnapeposts]

Snapetober Day 2: "You have to let go".

hello everyone. this one was a hard prompt but i managed, and it hurts a little. poor Sev has a lot to carry, huh? so yes, this is from his POV. again, you can read it over in ao3 if you'd like, and also if you'd be kind enough, go give me some kudos over there. thanks, hope you enjoy~.

Day 2 - "You have to let go".

--

"I'm very disappointed, Prue".

It wasn’t easy to say those words. Severus knew well what it was like to hear those words, what it was like to feel like a failure, to feel like he had failed others, but he knew that this was the best way to reprimand her, to let her know that what she wanted to do was wrong.

"Isn't my current state enough of a warning that you shouldn't get involved in such things?", he continued. He was standing on one side of the desk, his arms folded, his expression serious and cold; meanwhile, Prue avoided looking at him, also with her arms crossed and a frown. The fact that she wouln’t look at him made him more upset. “Can't you see where I'm in because of my stupidity? I thought you’d know better than this”.

Prue was still quiet, very interested in the cobblestone of his office. Severus couldn't blame her immature behavior; after all, she was only 16 years old, and the fact that he, of all people, was the one who spoke such harsh words to her must have made her very defensive.

The man sighed, flopping into his chair. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ward off the impending headache without potions or spells.

"I can't take care of everything, Prue. I have to look after Draco, and also tend to Dumbledore, and don't forget Potter, plus myself all the bloody time because Voldemort is getting more and more impatient”, he told her in a whisper. He was about to add something else to show her that he trusted her, but his choice of words proved to be the wrong one as Prue bolted to her feet, turbulent green eyes, a sea of emotions behind them.

"Do not worry for me, professor", she blurted out, in that shaky voice that always came out when she was upset. “I know how to take care of myself. I will not waste any more of your time with a burden like me”.

And with that she hurried out of the office. Severus sighed again, knowing it was useless to go after her and try to reason when those eyes filled with tears and the girl drowned in her own isolation.

Still, that didn't stop him from feeling bad. It wasn't his intention to make her cry, much less make her feel unwanted or that he saw her as another dead weight to carry. He simply wanted to show her that holding grudges only poisoned one’s soul, that excessive pride would only harm her, that the Dark Arts were unpredictable and extremely dangerous especially when some used them as an emotional outlet. He knew about that, more than he liked to admit.

Severus could understand that Prue hated her parents and was offended at the fact that they were now looking for her nonstop due to finally noticing the incredible witch she was. He could understand that she wanted nothing to do with them, that she loathed the very idea of looking at her mother. He would allow her to stay with him for the rest of her life if she wanted to (romantically or not), once things settled down, as long as she didn't go back to her hell-turned-heaven home attempt.

But what he would never allow was for Prue to go tangle herself among the Dark Arts, looking for something to get her payback for the suffering they had put her through. She was obsessive, it was in her nature to be so, and Severus knew very well that once the first curse was cast, once the Dark power was discovered, she wouldn’t return.

Nevertheless…

He was being a hypocrite, right? Telling her all those things about resentment and envy, treating her as if he were a saint, as if he had gotten over his own demons.

He would never really act upon it, because he was far above those caveman impulses, but Severus didn’t deny his dark thirst for revenge and was aware that no matter how long it had been since then, deep down he wanted to return every little thing they did to him.

To Voldemort, for killing the woman he loved the most.

To Dumbledore, for putting him in the situation he put him in, taking advantage of his pain and regret.

To Lucius, for inviting him to his cult of idiotic and intolerant cretins when he knew that he himself was an idiot and a cretin in a desperate search to belong to something, to be someone.

To James Potter and Sirius Black, for everything they did to him, for making his life more miserable than it already was.

To his father, for every humiliation, every tear, every blow. Not only for those that had left marks on his skin, not only for those that had left marks on his memory, but also for those that had adorned the body of his mother.

And in those moments when he was drowning in his misery, Severus also wanted to blame Lily, and her mother, and Prue, for how unfair life was. For everything bad that happened or had happened to him. He straightened up and buried his face in his hands, his head pulsing hard, the urge to do something stupid and irrational and potentially dangerous almost overwhelming his firm discipline.

Emotions were strong, especially the negative ones. As powerful as the Dark Arts themselves, capable of destroying everything in their path, leaving nothing but pain and destruction where before had been love, friendship, kindness.

Wrath, hatred, loneliness, envy. Severus felt them strongly, being transported from his heart to the tip of his fingers, urging him to pick up the wand and de-stress with some of his old student, teenager habits.

"Let go", he growled to himself, like a warning, like an anchor. There was no one else in there to tell him so, but he had him, as little as that seemed at the moment. He squeezed the wand, which he had taken almost without realizing it. “You have to let go”.

Grudges were strong, but he was stronger. He had learned to be. He knew that many were his mistakes and his alone.

It wasn’t Lily's fault that she had ended her friendship.

It wasn’t her mother's fault that she had been terrified and made bad decisions out of fear.

It wasn’t Prue's fault that she misunderstood him. She was a girl, just a girl who had always been displaced and put last. If anyone was to blame for making her cry it wasn’t her and her insecurities and her overthinking, but him, for not being careful. He had told her not to repeat his mistakes and yet he found himself repeating them.

He had already broken Lily's heart by calling her a Mudblood. Did he, too, have to break Prue's, making her feel that she was a burden to carry, to understand how to choose his words better?

Another sigh, and Severus finally put the wand back in one of his robes’ pockets. He wiped away a hot, angry tear that had trickled down his cheek when he least expected it. The headache was still there, more intense than before, but much less than what it could have become.

He managed to avoid catastrophe, and he would soon drink something for the bloody malaise he felt. It was still too early to go after Prue, but he knew that when she came to her senses, as much as he did, he would be able to explain things to her and steer her away from her misdeeds. If necessary, he himself would set the example, and make his peace with everyone who had ever hurt him, for her.

[dwellordream]

the best laid plans

day 1 for @wayhavensummer because this is the only prompt I'll have time to do this week!

T Rating (for one brief mention of sex and one brief reference to emotional abuse) Felix x Detective Esme Kingston, 2300 words

The migraine cuts her to her core, and Esme can’t even manage the usual dose of guilt and hesitance she’d feel about canceling plans with Tina. They were supposed to go away this weekend, and Esme hasn’t been on a vacation since uni, but right now she couldn’t even make her way out of her flat, never mind into a car for a seven hour drive down the coast. 

She feels like vomiting, the pain is so intense, as if she’d been concussed. Migraines have been a constant for her since puberty; she has a vivid memory of her first one, when she was thirteen, and the long wait in the nurse’s office at the private school her mother paid so much money for. The same mother who eventually sent someone else to pick her up, ninety minutes after the first phone call. 

Esme doesn’t even remember who it was; some Agency intern? A vampire? A demon? Whoever it was, they brought her home, gave her some painkillers, and told her to sleep it off. She woke up hours later, in the middle of the night, to a still empty house. Rebecca had come home briefly to leave a note for her about some leftovers in the fridge and another one excusing her from school the next day if need be, and then gone straight back to work. 

Maybe Esme should have been outraged or hurt by this, but she doesn’t recall feeling much of anything at the time beyond hunger, when the pain had finally receded enough to think straight. She ate the leftovers cold in their sterile, silent kitchen, and put herself back to bed.

The migraines had intensified through high school, to the point where her mother considered putting her on permanent medication, before receding just before she went away to university. After that they were far more infrequent, which was both a blessing and a curse- it was easy to forget what the pain felt like, and to feel like it was weak, lazy of her to let it get the best of her. 

Bobby certainly didn’t help matters; the first one Esme had during their relationship came around shortly after they’d had sex for the first few times, and Bobby quickly became convinced this was her version of ‘not tonight, dear, I have a headache-’. That she was, for some ludicrous reason, exaggerating her migraines. 

If she didn’t want to have sex with him, she’d never had much of an issue saying as much, bluntly, clinically. Another thing he despaired of- her lack of social graces, her insistence on saying exactly what she meant, in her usual ‘ice queen’ manner. Now he had reason to call her frigid in more ways than one. 

Esme still isn’t sure how things between them ever lasted as long as seven torturous months. She assumes they both had a private masochistic streak- why else would two people who made one another so blatantly unhappy stay together? 

Bobby isn’t here now, of course, to whinge and moan about her ignoring him, but there’s still a little voice in her head telling her to get up and stop acting like a baby when the evening rolls around. The pain has greatly lessened, thankfully, and she’s hungry, which is usually a good sign, but she’s also exhausted and cranky and generally miserable, feeling as though an entire day was wasted, one she could have spent with her best friend, on her way to a vacation. 

Now, again, she is alone in a dark room. She slowly rolls over onto her side, bracing for a wave of pain or nausea, then pushes herself up onto her elbows and gropes at her night table for her phone. She has several missed calls and texts. Two from Tina, one from her mother, and one from Felix, which is the most recent, about thirty minutes ago. 

Felix H: omw over to drop stuff off. 30 min???

She checks the time, then jumps, almost bashing her head into the headboard, when she hears a quiet knock at her door. For a moment Esme considers lying back down and not answering it; Felix can be persistent but he would never try to break her door down, especially when he knows she’s ill. 

Then she clambers out of bed, some instinct driving her, a desperate kind of loneliness- for an instant tears spring to her eyes, as if she were a child again, terrified of being left alone, that she will just miss him, that she will pull open the door and he will already be gone-

“Ez?”

He’s right there when she yanks open the door, the chain still in place. Esme undoes it and pulls the door open all the way. Felix is staring at her, a small bag of groceries in hand. Vampires have far better temperature regulation than humans but it’s obvious he is feeling the heat; for once he’s not wearing a beanie or any kind of hat or cap at all. 

He’s gotten his hair braided recently; Esme looks at him for a moment, staggered by the fact, as always, that even in the harsh fluorescent lighting of her narrow hallway. Felix’s dark skin has a sheen all its own, magnified by his golden eyes. 

He prods her shoulder gently with the pad of his thumb. “If you faint on me, I’m gonna drop your gifts.”

“My gifts?” Esme shakes her head, leading the way back into her darkened flat. It’s much more cluttered than usual; she never finished packing for the trip she was supposed to take today. 

Felix does not reach for a light switch; he has perfect vision in the dark, and light from the parking lot is spilling through her blinds. Instead he sets the bag on her counter and sorts through it as enthusiastically as Santa Claus on Christmas, or a child sorting through their Halloween candy. 

“Min tea,” he says, “cold packs, squash, sweet potatoes, brown rice, dried cranberries…”

“Did you just look up ‘what to eat and drink for a migraine’?” Esme manages to ask, bemused. 

He looks up, a sheepish smile quirking at his soft lips. “If I say yes…”

“I’m impressed,” she says. “And.. thank you. Very much. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I didn’t have to supply my ailing girlfriend with nutritious food and drink?” he waves the bottle of mint teat in her face vigorously. 

“Ailing? I’m not eighty five years old, Felix.”

“That’s right, I’m the old man here,’ he cackles, then amends, “Or, will be. Technically we’re not that far apart in age but eventually when you start decaying-,”

“Decaying?” As usual, his word choice both horrifies and amuses her. 

Felix has even less of a filter than her, but with the opposite effect. She comes across as cold and controlling. He comes across as… well, ‘space cadet’ has been used a few times, but Esme likens it to a time traveler. Only, not from the past, and not quite from the future. A parallel visitor. Something out of the Twilight Zone, only… warm and colorful and eager to please. That’s Felix.

He shrugs. “Succumbing to the elements?”

“I’m not a castle,” she mutters, but pours herself a cup of cold mint tea. Will it be as good as if she’d brewed it herself here at home, no, but at the moment she doesn’t care. 

He puts the rest away in her small fridge while she drinks, leaving out the cranberries, then circles warily, as if approaching a wild animal, when she finishes off her cup. “Can I-,” his fingers ghost along the back of her neck. The hairs there raise and she shivers violently, but not in fear or pain. 

“Yes,” she murmurs, then leans back into his embrace as he wraps his arms around her. 

They scuttle over to the sofa like that, and ease down together. Felix is not terribly tall, and she is average height, so there’s scarcely a few inches between them. Esme has always liked that. All the others she’s been with had towered over her, and it made her feel spoilt and delicate in an undesirable, bratty kind of way, as if she were childish, some little princess to be coddled and indulged. Or maybe that’s just her projecting onto everything else that makes up a relationship besides height differences. 

For now, she is content to lie back so her head rests against Felix’s, cheek to cheek. His is silken smooth; she knows he is fastidious about shaving, the same as her. 

“You’re feeling better, though?” he murmurs, and snakes a hand under her pyjama top as if to check. Splayed warm against her belly, it tickles for an instant and she smiles. 

“Yes. It’s mostly passed. I’m just tired. And annoyed. Tina was really looking forward to this trip. She’ll still have fun by herself, but it was supposed to be the two of us, and I’m always canceling plans.”

“You are not,” says Felix, reasonably. “You’re just busy. And you couldn’t help it this time, you were sick. She knows that.”

Esme nods; for all his jokes and quips, Felix is always sensible in a manner that she finds comforting- stating the obvious isn’t such a bad thing when dealing with someone like her. 

“I hate being sick,” she murmurs, rolling onto her side so she can rest her cheek on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around her more securely, even intertwines their legs. Felix sleeps like this too, though at this point he’s only spent the night a few times. 

Esme is taking things as slowly as she dares, given all the other factors at play- her mother, their work, the rest of the team, the fact that he is a vampire from another dimension and she is the human equivalent of dry toast… 

“I kind of like it,” Felix confesses, with just enough lilt in his voice that she knows he’s half teasing.

Esme grumbles vengefully into his shirt. He smells like coconut butter and vanilla. She doesn’t know if that’s his aftershave or just the essence of Felix, refined to the purest degree. Sometimes he smells like cinnamon to her, or lavender and honeysuckle. 

Felix tolerates these assessments but likes to claim that it’s him producing some kind of super pheromones perfectly designed for luring in unsuspecting human prey. Or his girlfriend. Or both. 

Esme has not been anyone’s girlfriend in a long time. Years. It feels very strange. Before him, it’d been so long since she’d even touched anyone, besides Tina or her mother or shaking hands. That absence did not hurt Esme. But being with Felix is like an unexpected delight. Free dessert. Extra sprinkles on your sundae. Any number of juvenile metaphors she should be above, but isn’t. 

“You’re not going to ask why I like it?” He is winding his fingers through her hair, which she let down from its usual tight ponytail to ease the tension on her scalp.

“Because you like to mock me?” she ventures.

“No,” says Felix. “Because you would have gone away with Tina, and now I get to see you. And hold you.” He presses an astoundingly gentle kiss to her brow, like a feather.

Esme feels a queer stab of guilt. “I didn’t know you’d minded so much.”

“I don’t mind,” he says quickly. “I was happy for you to get away for once. I’m not going to third wheel you and your best friend.”

“I think the terms refers to the opposite-,”

“Hush hush,” he interrupts, which gets a giggle out of her. “But this is like… an unexpected delight.”

The back of her neck prickles. “Can you read minds?” she asks, half serious.

“Not yet,” he sounds smug. “I have great intuition.”

“Because you’re a vampire?”

“No, because I’m me,” he boasts. “Look at Ava’s intuition. Terrible.”

Esme laughs again. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“She’s always expecting the worse. And Nat swings in the other direction. Always wants to play nice and hug it out.”

“And Mason?” Esme teases, feeling energetic enough not to raise her head so her chin is on his chest. Their noses are almost touching.

“Eh… he’s alright,” Felix breathes, and then closes the gap with a kiss. 

Esme kisses him back, more passionately than she’d meant to, and only stops it when he starts to sit up so she is straddling his lap. 

“I don’t think I can…”

“Eat some cranberries?” He grins impishly and hands her the bag from the coffee table.

Esme smiles and bumps her forehead against his, something she did impulsively after their first kiss and which he never let her live down. 

“What are we, cats?” he says, on cue, but brushes his nose and lips down her cheek and onto her neck, as if to nuzzle her in turn. “Eat some fruit before your migraine comes back. Do you want me to put some of this stuff away?”

“No,” she says, pushing him back down on the sofa. “Just- stay with me, please?”

“Alright,” he agrees, amiable as ever, and reaches for the remote. “This can be like our vacation, yeah? The Felix and Esme Show. The Fezme Show-,”

“No,” she groans, but wriggles off him to curl up beside him instead, a handful of cranberries rising to her mouth as he flips through the channels.

He settles on an episode of Columbo. Felix hasn’t really seen much in the way of TV, and so reruns mean nothing to him. But it means everything to her. They keep the volume on very low, and he gets up at one point to open the windows more, even as the faint sounds of the parking lot outside drift in- the buzz of the lights, doors opening and closing, the crunch of gravel. 

Esme falls asleep sagging onto him, cranberries in her lap, mouth half open while Felix watches, riveted in the light of the screen, as the detective closes the case.

[i-love-ninjago-kai]

Hi again!! I hope this isn’t too soon to ask again, I don’t want to burden you. Anyways, I really loved your last Kailor posts and though I’d love more on that, I wanted your thoughts on Kai keeping things locked up emotionally because I noticed that was something you’ve mentioned a few times. I’ve been working on an angsty Kai fic (post s3 stuff) where of course he hides everything he’s going through, and so I’ve been thinking about that a lot and how he’s been like that. Like him being more secretive from an early age to protect Nya and how that habit stays. Also how he deals with others being suspicious that he’s hiding stuff and how he’d react when confronted about it. I know this is a lot to unpack though so if you don’t want to that’s fine! :) (this was too long for an ask that’s why I did a submission)

- Submitted by @ofmagicandmusic -

Hey there friend, thank you! It warms my heart that my rambles can be helpful haha,

Sure, I’ll see what I can do :)

(Gonna be putting this one under read more too.. Sorry!!)

So... Kai doesn’t necessarily hide when he’s struggling with something, or rather, he’s really really bad at it. He’s a very emotive person, albeit he leans more toward the negative side of emotions. If someone doesn’t know him well, Kai is just brash and has a million dollar glare that could burn you alive, and a temper to be wary of.

However if you do know him, have seen what really goes on behind his eyes, it’s a little more complicated. We see that generally when Kai is in a good mood, he’s wearing a contented smile and is altogether pleasant to be around, that’s the side that Kai tries to show the media only.

But that’s not all Kai is. There’s plenty of days when he’s irritable and grumpy, and you have to be careful not to set off his volatile rage, he’s feeling all this and.. Nothing is wrong. Everyone is in good health, things are good in ninjago, all together things are well. Kai just has days when he’s angry, and the team knows this, and they love him all the same, happy Kai, or angry Kai.

Now... it’s deciphering whether or not Kai is having and Angry day, or he’s actually struggling with something, is when it gets tricky.

Because Kai will always give you the same answer when you ask. 

“No, I’m fine.” “I’m Alright.” Or a glare with more ice in it than what Zane can produce.

Kai has a really, really hard time letting people in. He’s spent his entire life doing things himself, and he doesn’t really see a reason to change that. No one was there for him when he was dirt poor, raising his little sister, and he handled it. 

Sure, it left irreparable damage, and his stress and loneliness festered into intense trust issues and low expectations for others, but he handled it. 

He took on ignacia’s judgmental and pitying stares, watched as no one really reached out a hand to help. He raised his little sister because she’s all that mattered. He doesn’t need anyone’s help.

Kai doesn’t need people to solve his problems for him, he doesn’t want them wasting their effort on him. Especially if he’s got it all under control.

He’s got it all under control.

And then Zane died, and Kai couldn’t handle it. Kai should be able to handle everything, he’s been cheated and life has been cruel to him, so he should be used to it pulling stuff to hurt him. 

But Zane is dead, and Kai doesn’t know what to do. Kai always knows what to do, and now he doesn’t. Everyone is mourning and comforting each other but it doesn’t even matter because Zane is still dead.

And it should have been him. Zane was everything Kai isn’t and didn’t deserve to die that way. Kai? Kai is expendable, he knows he’s no lynchpin or what holds the team together.

So why didn’t he die? Kai would’ve traded anything to take Zane’s place because it’s not fair. Kai has been put in an unfair situation, his entire childhood was unfair. Fine, he lived through that.

But this is wrong. It’s so wrong it makes him sick because he wants so badly to change it, but he can’t. He feels so deeply at fault that he is nauseated to even be in the team’s presence. Because he knows they can see how miserable he is, and he wouldn’t dare make them think he can’t handle his pain alone.

So he leaves. It’s night time, and everyone is still so, so tired from the overlord, and their loss. No one wakes, or even stirs as he leaves through the bounty’s window.

It’s not hard for him to make a new identity, this place is full of people who’ve run away too, he hasn’t been in the press much yet, and it’s not like these people care, all of them are as miserable as him. Who were they to judge him?

He falls into a spiral of fighting and drinking, his dingy little apartment he’s managed to rent is only used to sleeping at this point, or nursing his more serious injuries he receives at various fight clubs. At some point he stops trying to feel better. He doesn’t deserve to feel better, so he doesn’t.

He makes ‘friends’. Well, they’re not really friends, they’re terrible people who in reality couldn’t care less about him. But misery loves company, right?

The bruises he comes home with don’t even phase him anymore. When he came home to the team with bruises, he’d allow himself the pleasure of complaining a little, maybe letting himself sleep in a little longer. 

Now they just feel like a part of him, they change areas an severity, but in the end they’re all the same, and Zane is still dead. So does it really matter?

He doesn’t like the taste of the alcohol he drinks, it’s bitter and the still good part of him is ashamed to be drinking it. But it makes him forget, just for a little while, so does that matter either?

Shame pools in the pit of his stomach when Lloyd confronts him, he’s nursing a drink while he’s talking to the kid. He shouldn’t see him like that, but he does, and it’s too late.

Lloyd doesn’t ask him how he’s doing when he sees him, which Kai is sort of thankful for. He doesn’t really know how to answer. Because it’s obvious he’s bad, really bad. But even after sinking so so low and feeling so so... Awful, Kai still doesn’t want to ask for help.

He either doesn’t deserve help or he doesn’t want it. At this point he’s not sure.

He has to really look to find one of his gis, since he burned  most of them up one particularly terrible night. A ninja doesn’t go around looking for a fight, but Kai does, so he burns his whatever evidence is left of who he was.

I wish I could say that Kai get’s better after his time in hiding, working with the Slither Pit. But really... it get’s worse, because now Kai is so ashamed of what he’s done, and how that time changed him. 

He’s got new scars that don’t have honorable explanations, made some very bad people angry and he prays they never come looking for him. 

Worst of all, he abandoned them. He abandoned Nya, his sister who already knows the pain of abandonment. He repeated history, leaving her when he was the one person who promised never to.

But she forgives him, and in a way, he thinks that’s worse than her being angry. So he holds a grudge for the two of them, if she’s not going to be mad... Then he is.

So now asking for comfort is a luxury, that he absolutely doesn’t deserve. He neither wants, needs, or deserves help from his friends, not from his family, or anyone.

Well... Unless you’re Skylor. Skylor always gives him this... This look when he’s keeping something in. This look has to be magic because it makes his jaw unhinge and suddenly he’s talking. Talking to her.

And the first time it happens it scares him, because now she knows. She knows everything and she’s going to tell everyone how messed up he is (As if it’s not obvious)

So he waits for the team to ask questions. They never do, because Skylor never told them. 

She told them nothing. Everything she knows about him is still... Just in her mind.

The smart part of his mind knows that’s not great. To only open up to one person, but Kai is so afraid to show weakness, because he can’t. He’s spent his entire life having to be strong, he can’t break down, he has to be ready because sometimes the others aren’t.

He has to be a steady flame, that persists, and doesn’t go out.

Sorry this is long... I could go on!!! But it’s already soooo long and I went on some tangents, Sorry!! Hope this is helpful!!!