#I'm looing forward to your responses!

[weepingwillowwonder]

Rewatching Hazbin is fun because it ALWAYS gets the creative juices flowing~~~

❤️ Alastor x Reader ❤️

How would Alastor react if someone he is quite fond of challenges him, even after he give them a warning?

CW: Brat taming, Sub/Dom, Degradation, Dacryphilia, Masturbation, Finger Sucking, Implied Oral Sex

[NSFW under the cut, MDI 🔞]

---

Alastor's immediate reaction really would depend on who's watching:

If there were others around, his eyes would only narrow, and his tone would sharpen as he responds to your blatent defiance.

"Would you care to repeat that?" He'd ask with the sound of static creeping in his voice. He's giving you a clear chance to back down, a chance to redeem yourself. This is less for your sake however, and more so for upholding appearances.

When you hold your ground, he stalks closer to you with a wild look in his eyes. His form begins to grow and tower over you, making you take a step back in fear. It isn't until Charlie steps in between you both in an attempt to de-escalate the situation.

"Whoa whoa whoa! This is a huge misunderstanding! They didn't mean it like that, Alastor!" She'd turn to you with an earnest smile, "right?" And you'd let out a frustrated sigh, turning to the side with crossed arms. Your delay of a response has her holding her hands up in Alastor's direction, still trying to keep things from getting worse. A pleading sound of your name makes you roll your eyes and swallow your pride. "Right. I didn't mean it...sorry.." you finally back down.

Alastor quickly shrinks down to his normal form and lifts his chin in a daring motion before leaving the room. "That's what I thought you said."

But don't think for one second that this is the end of it. How he deals with this little incident later on would be the same as if he was reacting to your comments if it were just you and him alone...

---

When you express your opinion on the matter, he very quickly lets it be known that the conversation is nonnegotiable.

"Hm, I don't remember asking for your commentary, did I?" He'd say in a mocking tone, completely disregarding you. "You should know better. Or do you need a reminder on how to stay in your place?"

The heat that grows on your cheeks is clearly evident as he talks down to you, and before you know it, you approach him with a finger pointed at his chest. "I don't appreciate being talked to like that, all I did wa-"

He doesn't even let you finish before you find yourself backed up against the bed in your shared room, quickly falling to sit down as you lose balance. He looks down at you, amused by the shock and embarrassment that comes across your face. You huff and look away.

"Allow me to rephrase my statement," His hand comes underneath your chin to force you to look into his eyes. "I did not ask for your opinion, and I don't appreciate you questioning my authority." Your mouth opens still in defiance, "I didn’t-"

He cuts you off yet again, this time squeezing your cheeks between his fingers. He leans in closer to your face, speaking to you harshly. "That's quite enough. Obviously, it seems as if you do require more instruction, especially with these... 'outbursts.' Truthfully, I thought you were smarter than this, but it seems you didn't learn your lesson after last time..."

His grip tightens against you as he pulls you forward by your cheeks onto the floor. You gasp in surprise and reach up to hold onto his wrist, whining his name. "Alastor, I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to question you, I wasn't thinking, I promise. I j-just..."

He removes his hand, shaking off yours in the process, and quickly slides two fingers deep into your mouth. You attempt to jerk away in surprise, but his other hand comes to the back of your neck to hold you still. His fingers then lazily slide in and out of your mouth, watching the spit collect and drip down the sides of your lips.

Your eyes begin to water as you fight the urge to retaliate, knowing well that he would react much more to your pushback. He looks at you with a knowing expression as the bold defiance slowly leaves your eyes, being replaced by total submission as they flutter closed. It isn't until he feels your tongue searching for his fingers, mouth sucking them back in that he speaks again.

"Ah, that's much better." He takes his fingers out of your mouth, sighing as you try to chase his fingers for more. "Now now, patience is a virtue after all..." His hand reaches for the buckle on his pants, taking his time to pull his hardening member out. He gives himself an experimental stroke and revels in how quickly you give up on fighting with him, instead now focused on his cock instead.

Under normal circumstances, he would prefer not to touch himself, opting to use your assistance when the need strikes itself. But when you get like this? Where he has to put you in your place to make you become perfectly submissive and needy for him? He uses it as a learning opportunity.

He groans as his fingers brush over his sensitive tip, and his hand glides deliciously along his length. Of course, his own touch feels nice, but the desperation on your face has him feeling so much harder in his palm. Especially in the moment you realize he's not looking for your assistance.

You immediately start begging for permission to touch him, and he merely continues stroking himself, watching you work yourself up below him. "Alastor, please! I said I was sorry!" He lets you continue on babbling apologies, and at some point, the tears that were building up earlier begin to fall steadily down your cheeks. Eventually, though, you quiet down, silently watching with the quiet occasional sniff.

Alastor rewards you by placing his hand on your cheek, then running his thumb along your trembling bottom lip. "Oh darling, you should be thankful I'm feeling generous today..." he starts, looking at you fondly. You lean into his hand, opening your mouth as he brings the tip of his cock to rest on your lips. "Are you ready to show me how well you know how to behave...?"

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Nonsense

Written for the prompt "Nonsense" by Sabrina Carpenter.

Draco took another sip of his drink, letting it fizzle in his mouth and burn on its way down his throat. He steadfastly ignored the way his heart thud, thudded in his chest whenever Potter glanced up at him, the corner of his mouth ticking up as gave him a hot once-over.

The flush crept all the way up his neck and spread over his cheeks, his whole body felt too warm, tummy swooping and tingling, like he was a bloody teenager. He took another drink, trying to stay relaxed.

Pansy was talking, something about her latest flame, but he could barely keep up, hoping that his occasional nods and hums were sufficient.

And she didn't seem to notice until Potter stood up and walked past them, nodding at Draco and grinning at him, tilting his head down like he was a little shy and Draco's heart jumped into his throat as he attempted to smile back.

"Parkinson," he greeted, "Draco," he added, voice soft and warm like he'd cast a spell that tied Draco's intestines around each other.

"Hey," he breathed, shook his head. "I mean," he cleared his throat, "Potter."

Potter's grin widened and it looked for a moment like he would say something more, but then he just nodded and kept on his way to the loo.

"Well," Pansy said with a sigh, sounding unbearably bored, "go on then."

"Pardon me?"

"Go on," she said, rolling her eyes at him. "I know you've been watching him all night. It seems like he finally made his move and it's time for you to make yours."

He sniffed and took another sip of his drink, "I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Right. You've no idea what I'm talking about because you've been too busy staring at Potter to listen to the words coming out of my mouth for the past hour."

And he wanted to protest, he really did, but they both knew that he had no leg to stand on. "Fine," he said, knocking back the last of his drink. "I will."

"Finally," she muttered but he didn't even dignify that with a response. He marched to the loo and opened the door, "Listen, Potter," he started, louder than he might have if he'd realized that Potter was standing at the sink, washing his hands and not in one of the stalls. "Oh."

Potter looked up at him, eyes fucking twinkling behind his glasses and Draco wanted to punch something, wanted to throw up, or bang his head against the wall, or... something. Watching Potter remain so bloody attractive while Draco fell apart was entirely infuriating. "I'm listening," Potter said, grinning even more broadly.

And Draco did the only thing that he could think to do with his tongue so tied, he lunged forward and grabbed Potter by the collar of his shirt and dragged him in to kiss him.

The water on Potter's hands soaked through Draco's shirt, but it was the furthest thing from his mind as Potter's mouth opened against his and he spun them, pressing Draco back against the sink.

His hands gripped Potter's shirt harder, pulling him in as he sank deeper into the kiss.

The other man smiled, his lips turning up at the corners and making the kiss a little awkward, but in a sweet way that Draco couldn't help but enjoy. "What?" he asked, still attempting to kiss Potter but wanting to understand that infernal grin.

"I like you," Potter said with a little shrug before he kissed Draco a little more. "I enjoy you."

"You drive me mental," Draco replied, in spite of the way that his stomach did back flips at the other man's words.

"Yeah?" he asked, still grinning.

"Yes," he grunted, all petulance and delight mixed up together. "You get my words all twisted together, you turn me into this daft idiot who can't get his head on straight."

Potter snorted, "Very convenient, seeing as I do my best not to fall for straight men."

He rolled his eyes and shoved Potter's shoulder before drawing him in closer and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"Be mine?" Potter asked. "Not just sleeping in my bed or hooking up in loos," he clarified, "actually, properly mine?"

"Is that what you actually want?" Draco asked, thinking that outcome was certainly too good to be true. "With me?"

Potter chuckled and bumped Draco's cheek with his nose, "I don't see anyone else standing in this loo with me."

He blinked, pushed back the insecurity that he felt rising in his chest, nodded once and decided to let himself have what he wanted. "Yeah," he said softly. "I'd like that."

"Alright, then."

Harry nodded. "Alright."

[misc-obeyme]

Heya, CC - hope you're doing well!

First time submitting off anon but I noticed you didn't have a Flufftober promt yet for Lucifer so I'm hoping to throw my hat in the ring

I sort of hc that MC carries around eyedrops for when Lucifer overworks himself and his eyes start to hurt😅

Idk, nothing too crazy but I think he'd appreciate the little things <3

Looking forward to your uploads regardless! ^.^

Hello there, my friend! It looks like you were still on anon when you sent this, so feel free to reveal yourself if you'd like! But no pressure, you are welcome to stay anon, too. :)

Now listen, this is exactly the kind of thing that would matter so much to Lucifer.

And since this is Flufftober, well... I definitely fluffed it up lol. I sometimes get a little cheesy when writing fluff, but I also feel like that's just the nature of fluff, you know?

Thank you for submitting a prompt!

FLUFFTOBER 2023

GN!MC x Lucifer

Warnings: none!

Lucifer was an important demon. He had a lot of others depending on him, a lot of work he had to do every day, so many demands on his time. It required all of his energy to keep on top of everything and yet he managed to do it. And he made it look easy.

To everyone else, Lucifer was the one they could always turn to for help. He could take care of anything. The responsibilities he shouldered were heavy things that he carried every day and he never faltered.

And then you showed up. You became another person for him to take care of and at first he only did it because Diavolo wanted him to. But as time passed, he had to admit to himself that he enjoyed your company. There was something about your very presence that made all of his burdens seem lighter.

For a while, Lucifer just allowed this reality to exist within him. His pride let him tell you directly that he liked when you were beside him, but his pride also prevented him from telling you why.

Lucifer noticed right away when you started doing things that perhaps would mean very little to someone else. You would do something as simple as asking him if he had eaten yet or when the last time he stood up from his desk was. Things nobody else would think to ask because they would just assume that Lucifer was on top of it the way he was with everything else.

But every time you checked in like that, every time you brought him coffee without him needing to ask, every time you simply showed up to sit in his office with him, every time you did some insignificant thing to lighten his load, Lucifer fell for you just a little bit more. He didn't even realize it was happening.

It was a late night and Lucifer still had piles of paperwork to get through. He would never say it out loud, but he was fairly certain that this was some leftover torture method that the Devildom never quite phased out. He was hunched over his desk, fully consumed in the work before him, determined to get through the current pile before the night was over.

You were sitting across from him, quietly reading a book. You often sat up with him, even if every half hour he tried to get you to go to bed. You would just smile at him and say that you weren't tired.

And Lucifer let it go for another half hour. He let it go because he wanted you there.

When he finally finished the last page of the pile he was working on, Lucifer sat up straight, leaned back in his chair, and sighed heavily.

You looked up from your book. "You're finally done!"

Lucifer smiled at you, but it was a weak, tired smile. "I only succeeded because you were here with me, MC."

You rolled your eyes. "Oh sure, Mr. Why-Don't-You-Go-To-Bed-Now."

Lucifer chuckled. He put down his pen and rubbed at his eyes, fingers pressing into them as they burned.

He didn't see you standing up from your chair, but he opened his eyes when he heard you put your book down on his desk. He watched as you pulled a small bottle of eye drops from your pocket and handed it over to him.

Lucifer took the bottle and looked at it with a baffled expression before looking back at you.

"You're rubbing your eyes again," you said, as if it was obvious. "So use some eye drops."

Lucifer frowned. "Do you have problems with your eyes, MC?"

Now it was your turn to look confused. "What? You're the one whose eyes are hurting, not me."

"But you carry these drops in your pocket," Lucifer said. "You must need them if you keep them on your person all the time."

You blinked for a moment, then smiled a little sheepishly. "Oh. Well. I started carrying them for you. This isn't exactly the first time I've seen you rubbing your eyes like that."

Something thudded in Lucifer's heart. Something he didn't know about until that very moment. Something that had been working so hard and taking care of so much that it had forgotten the feeling of someone else taking care of him.

It was so small. Such a little thing. And yet, for Lucifer Morningstar, it was everything.

He put the bottle down on the desk. He would use them in a minute. Right then, he cared far more about coming around his desk to hold you.

You seemed a little surprised when he put his arms around you without speaking. But after a moment, you pressed your face into him, as though his embrace was the one place where you belonged.

The way you so effortlessly made his life better with every little thing you did indicated to Lucifer that it was indeed where you belonged. Right there, beside his heart.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[8makes1newworld]

A part two as requested. @last-words-ofashootingstar was responsible for about ninety percent of this happening, her big brain deserves the credit and her artistic touch with the moodboard she made above. Cameo appearances of other fandom figures also.

1k plus words

Slowly you awoke to the sunlight streaming through your open window. Unable to make out your surroundings while you sat up and looked around yourself. Upon realizing you were in your own room you began to relax.

Still an ominous feeling cloaked across your body as you tried to piece together the night before. Barely recalling any details of the excursion to the beach the previous night before.

You groaned as you got your tired body out of bed. A small scar on your finger throbbed, drawing your attention and prompting you to rack your brain as to when you had injured your finger.

“Shit!” You raced to the closet to grab some clothes so that you could go take the driver's test that you had been looking forward to for some time.

“y/n it's time to go! What's taking so long?” Soyeon, your workaholic mother knocked at the door of your room and nearly scared you witless.

“Almost there!” You called out while frantically thumbing through your clothes. About to have a breakdown when you couldn't find your favorite cozy Hello Kitty hoodie, your favorite shirt and your favorite pair of jeans were somehow missing as well.

“Damn it! Are they all in the laundry basket?!” You whined dramatically and donned a few random pieces of clothes, mismatched but time was not on your side presently to complain.

“y/n give me back my Converses or I'll be assisting you with your test!” Your big brother Beomgyu was beating on your door. Nearly falling into you when you opened it suddenly.

“Sheesh, is it you who's holding my clothes hostage as leverage? Give them up now! I don't have your shoes!” You put your hands on your hips and scowled at him.

Beomgyu dramatically shook his head. “I don't have any of your smelly clothes!”

“Uh huh, right.” You approached him with murder in your eyes.

“It's okay you can keep my shoes! Just let me live!” He raced down the hallway away from you. Thoroughly intimidated by you.

You sighed defeatedly and turned to go to the bathroom, working on your hygiene before hurrying outside to meet up with your parents who were waiting for you.

“Is everything okay, y/n?” Your father Chan asked, who always seemed aware when you weren't feeling yourself caused you to look up at him in surprise.

“She seems to have had too much time on her phone, sleeping late again.” Soyeon muttered quaintly and got into the driver's side of the car.

“Can't I speak for myself…” You rolled your eyes and sat down in the backseat of the car, buckling up and pretending to ignore your mother.

“You know you can always come to me if you need to talk? I’m always here for you, pumpkin.” Chan looked through your open window at you and gazed at you with genuine concern.

“Sure I do.” You replied softly, looking at him in earnest. Really you didn't know what you could talk about with him. First you felt you had went out last night. The place that you had been forbidden to go to. Yet your memories were fleeting and you had no idea how you had gotten back into your own bed.

With that Soyeon drove away. You gazed out the window and started to lose yourself in your head. Tuning out your big brother in the front seat talking with your mom and playing a noisy game on his phone.

‘This is going to be a long day…’ You thought to yourself and spaced out.

🌌

Hours later you were exhausted, fortunately though you were to secure a pass on your driver's test. The only high point of the day you felt. Now you were meandering through grocery store aisles to pick up ingredients for dinner.

You were turning around after picking up a few packages of frozen vegetables. Though to your horror you smacked right into a person's chest.

“Oh I'm sorry- wait…” You gasp as your eyes traversed the face of the male who was looking down at you. His face handsome and familiar at the same time.

“You're wearing…” You stepped back quickly and looked at the Hello Kitty hoodie that he was wearing. Identical to the one that you were missing.

“Me? Yes someone special to me was kind enough to lend it to me.” The stranger replied with a deep voice that seemed to wash over every cell of your body with the purpose of enchantment.

“Ah right…” You looked down at his jeans. The wash uncannily similar to yours, looking as though they fit him like capris.

You blinked when your eyes reached his shoes. The same kind of converse that Beomgyu wore.

“Uh… you're dressed well… I mean I have the same hoodie somewhere…” You shifted nervously. The elegant and graceful aura that blanketed him seemed to not quite match the clothes that he wore.

“Is that so? The clothes are nice. I know they look good on you.” He gave a charming smile. Darkness in his eyes that sparked something inside of you. A feeling of familiarity in your gut that you just couldn't put your finger on.

“Uh … nice to meet you… I should be going…” You mumbled awkwardly and clutched your groceries against yourself as if they could help you with recharging your social battery.

“Ah, what a shame I enjoyed the chat. I'm Seonghwa, I want you to know that because I believe fate will allow us to continue meeting.” A smile twitched at the corners of Seonghwa's lips.

“I don't believe in fate… Seonghwa.” You shook your head and tried to steady your breathing, making your getaway because you didn't trust him.

He watched you leave with a cocksure smile. Finding you amusing and adorable at the same time just like the first time that he met you.

'You don't have to believe in fate. But I do'

🌌

(Gimme love, gimme love, gimme love)

Oh, please now

Do this just for me, yeah

I don't ask for much

Gimme love, gimme love, gimme love, baby

(Gimme love, gimme love, gimme love)

You sang along with your playlist as you gazed out at dusk falling outside your window. The song by Sia seemed to only bring the feelings that you'd pushed down to only surface at times like now. When you were alone and no one could see you wishing to be able to venture out for a world that was larger than what you experienced, to be able to find love.

With a wistful sigh you reminded yourself that it was all fairytales. That it was safer to abide by the cynicism of your mind.

Your stomach grumbled and interrupted your melancholic contemplations. Still you ignored it, deciding to tune into YouTube instead and watch an old episode of Good Mythical Morning.

Seonghwa however was lurking outside, wanting to make sure that you were taking care of yourself. He frowns when he sees that you weren't going to get food. Deciding instead to take matters into his own hands.

At the end of the episode you heard a slapping sound against the window. Two slaps to be exact. Hesitantly you approached the window, looking at the sill in puzzlement when you see two fish neatly aligned with each other.

“Did a gull drop these?” You asked yourself out loud as if the answer would come to you from our of the void.

You peeked outside your window, missing the siren hiding in the overgrown hedge bushes that grew near your window.

Honestly you didn't know what to do with the fish that were so neatly presented before you as if it were a gift.

“I suppose I could cook these at a high enough temperature to kill the bacteria…” You trailed off thoughtfully and picked up the seafood.

Meanwhile Seonghwa was wincing in confusion, a pained grimace on his face as he shook his head.

Why ruin the fish by cooking them?

He didn't understand. But as long as you managed to eat them he was happy. Once you left the window he slipped off to go to the ocean. A place that he could go to make his plans. Plans that were necessary because he physically couldn't stay away from you for long at a time.

[justanothermaniac]

random thots on the demon birbs because i'm post booster shot, have slept through the fever all day and after so many hours of neglect the brainworms are trying to wiggle free.

personally i can't see stolas' and stella's marriage as anything but arranged.

even the way stolas tried to explain himself to via back in loo loo land:

"she's always been -! i haven't been...ha-"

(wanting to say happy)

"we weren't in-"

(love. they've never been in love.)

i know this is just me interpreting what he wanted to say but i do think it makes the most sense.

like, whatever floats your boat but from what we've seen until now, it seems to me that the reason stella resents stolas for cheating isn't the fact that he cheated at all but that he cheated with an IMP. she seems to take pride in their status and duties, as opposed to stolas who's very passionate about his hobbies, like gardening, astronomy, spending time with via and yes, spending time with blitzo. from stella's point of view (which i am forcing on her right now because we don't know for sure) having her husband sleeping with one of the lowest ranking demons in all of hell puts the family, puts her in a horrible light.

granted, we haven't seen much from stella yet but from what we have seen, it doesn't seem like she pursues hobbies much. probably because she doesn't get the chance. stolas seems to be basically dumping all of their royal responsibilities on her and i feel like that's part of why she resents him as much as she does. he's out there having fun and leaving her to keep up the facade of the picture perfect goetia family, while he's seemingly doing everything he can to sabotage that (he's obviously not, he just doesn't think about the consequences his actions have). i love stolas with all of my heart but no matter how you look at it, even aside from cheating he seems like a shitty husband. tho as i said, i don't think he realizes - we've seen how self-aware the ditzy owl boy is. i don't think he's ever wanted to hurt stella. he's just very impulsive and driven by his emotions and doesn't think shit through.

overall i don't think stella was ever too fond of stolas. sure, could be there was some sort of mutual understanding at one point, maybe even a friendship but honestly, i doubt it. and i really look forward to seeing more of stella, she's such an interesting character and i'd love to see her point of view on the whole thing. also her relationship with via cuz right now, it seems like the two of them aren't as close as stolas and via are and if that's the case, that could be another thing for stella to resent stolas for.

also i feel like i need to clarify, i absolutely fucking LOVE stolas but lbr pretty boy fucked up big time lmao he and blitzo got a lot of shit to figure out.

also love via. and stella. want more of themmmm.

EDIT: i realized i haven't even mentioned stella literally hiring a fucking assassin on stolas' ass lmao that's a whole other situation we're all gonna have to deal with

[imaginexmeintheuniverse]

5 times you infuriated me and 1 time you made it okay

A/N: okay so the 5 times concept is something i enjoy writing very much, however i am aware that in this piece in particular, a lot of the ideas are underdeveloped and probably especially dont make sense with the ending when you look at the relationship, but please keep in mind that this ‘5 times’ theme i chose focuses on those kinds of incidents so there are a lot of other times in between (and i dont have the time or energy to turn this into a super long fic but perhaps one day.. ) so this is what happened!

Warnings: mentions of torture (like in the 7th when Bellatrix takes to Hermione)

Tags: @expellimarvelous and for some reason my hp taglist got lost so let me know if you’d like to be added!

↠↠↠↠↠↠

I. Bad Start to the Sixth Year

Your sixth year at Hogwarts seems to be off to a good start as you laugh and snack on sweets with two of your three your best friends on Hogwarts Express. Or at least it seemed like it was off to a good start until the train arrives at the station, and Harry is nowhere to be found.

Waving off Ron and Hermione with a promise to catch up, you insist on going to look for him by yourself. Your search leads you all the way to the other side of the strain where the blinds are conveniently drawn. You can hear a voice muffled through the closed door, and you become filled with dread when you identify who it belongs to.

Sliding the door open a crack, you see a familiar head of slicked-back platinum hair. You aren’t able to make out what he says, but you do see him bring down a foot to meet Harry’s nose.

“Malfoy, what the fuck?!” you burst out, causing the Slytherin boy to jump in surprise.

“Y-Y/N- I-I—”

“I don’t know what the bloody hell you think you’re getting away with, but you better get the fuck off this train before I curse you,” you snarl, shoving him aside to get to Harry. Seeing that he’s been petrified, you take your wand out of your jacket pocket and mutter, “finite,” to which your friend thankfully wakes up, blinking a few times. He doesn’t move much, as he tries to regain control of his muscles, and you insist he takes a moment to do so.

Throughout this, Draco has gone so quiet you think he might have actually left, but when you turn your head to meet his stormy eyes, you’re filled with rage, once again.

“What the fuck are you still doing here?! Get out!”

“But Y/N, I-I'm—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” you say in a lower tone as you tend to your friend, not even sparing him another glance.

Why is it that just when you think there might be a redeemable quality buried deep in Draco Malfoy, he always does something that proves otherwise?

II. Welcome to the Slugclub

“Okay, okay! I was gate-crashing! Happy?” He admits, trying to shake off Filch’s grasp on his jacket.

His eyes that used to be sharp and bright, have recently become sullen. They lock with yours for a solid moment before he’s ushered out by Snape.

Your eyes linger on his figure as he’s led away from the party— probably longer than they should have, but you can’t help noticing how thin he’s become. You’ve barely seen him all year, despite having a few classes together. He was never that hefty to begin with, but it looks like he hasn’t eaten or slept in ages. Other than his usual perfectly tailored wardrobe, he now wears dark circles under his eyes, and it’s impossible not to notice how the contours of his face have become that much sharper and his already pale skin has adopted a sickly pigmentation.

You and Harry follow the pair out, but for different reasons. You know that Harry wouldn’t be happy about yours because of his suspicions, but Draco looks like he’s crumbling under stress.

Eavesdropping only proves Harry’s doubts about Malfoy, and he then decides to rejoin the party as to not get caught by Snape, but you hang back, telling him you need to go to the loo.

You wait in the shadows until you hear Snape’s steps scurry away before approaching Malfoy who stays behind, sitting on a ledge. A half-smirk appears on his face upon noticing you like he’s been gathering an arsenal of insults to shoot at you, but really, under the snide mask, he marvels at how lovely you look tonight.

“Straying from your date with Potter?” he spits out Harry’s name like it’s revolting to have on his tongue. “Wouldn’t want anyone to think Potter’s lady is ditching him in favour of a more refined pureblood—”

“He’s one of my best friends!” You roll your eyes and flail your hands up in exasperation. “And how is the nature of our relationship any of your business?!”

He snorts, leaning his back on the walk behind him and crosses his arms over his chest nonchalantly.

“You know, I came out here to check and make sure you were okay!” You shout at him hands coming up to furiously push your hair back. “I can’t believe that for a second I thought that— no- but you—”

“You thought what?” His voice has become softer, hard exterior starting to peel away in your presence. He stands from his seat, mild concern washing over his features.

You shake your head, looking anywhere but at him. “N-Nothing—”

“Tell me,” his hands place themselves on your biceps, long fingers curling around your arms gently.

You fall victim to his intense gaze, getting lost in the grey seas of his irises. His features aren’t as hard as they usually are and the grasp he has on you is delicate; like he’s afraid to hurt you and you almost feel like you can let your guard down. Almost.

“Is it true?” you ask him, diverging from the subject and he raises an eyebrow in response. “Did you hex Katie Bell?”

He opens his mouth, and then closes it without a word when he realizes he has nothing to answer to that and you’re the only person he can’t lie to. That’s enough of a confirmation for you. You let out a breath of disbelief and he starts to panic, because contrary to the backwards dynamic the two of you share, part of him does care what you think. “Y/N- p-please listen—”

All emotion leaves your voice as you tell him, “Just leave me alone, Malfoy.”

You shrug him off, and spin on your heel, breaking the eye contact. Walking down the hall, you leave him there to bask in the silence and his dark thoughts.

III. Hair Like You

You’re already teeming with rage as you scour the castle for Ron, who slipped you one of Fred and George’s prank snacks that ended up changing your hair color. Running into Draco Malfoy, of all people, really puts the cherry on top of the shit sundae.

To make things worse, it looks as though he’s going out of his way to get to you when he spots you from across the courtyard. At first he squints, not fully sure if it’s you with the new physical change, and then tails you down two hallways, not giving a single damn how creepy he may look.

“What do you want, Malfoy—”

“It seems like you’re more obsessed with me than I had originally thought,” he snickers, catching up with your quickened pace.

That’s when it hits you, and you instantly halt, causing him to smack into your back. Spinning around to face him, your eyes widen in horror as you take in the familiar platinum blonde hair— the same shade you saw in the mirror earlier.

“That’s just great!” You throw your hands up dramatically. “Now I look like you!”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself—”

“Oh, sod off, Malfoy!”

“You know, it really doesn’t look that bad. Maybe you’re starting to have better taste.”

Despite knowing full well that that was Malfoy speak for a compliment, you’re in no mood for it. “Oh, well I’m so glad that the Slytherin prince thinks me, a lowly commoner, 'doesn’t look that bad’ just fu—”

“No! No! No! Y/N! I didn’t mean—”

“—ck off! Because on top of looking like the most insufferable git in the entire school what I really wanted was to receive a backhanded compliment—” And just then, you spot the familiar redhead with bad influences for older brothers from across the hall who you’re even more pissed off at than Malfoy.

“I don’t have time for this,” is all you say as you bolt down the hall towards Ron, screaming, “YOU’RE DEAD, WEASLEY!”

IV. Held Hostage

Hermione’s screams are enough to make you feel like you’re being gutted, and when Bellatrix takes her knife to your arm, you’re absolutely terrified. At least this means your best friend has a break from her torture. In the meantime, you nearly bite through your cheek to hold in your own screams whilst the saddistic woman spells out the hateful term that’s been thrown at you your whole life, carving it into your flesh.

After what feels like hours, the death eater sits back up, admiring the her work with a sickening grin on her face, and you want nothing more than to smack it off. Or at least you would if you didn’t feel like you’ve been drained. What you do feel is defiled; like your own skin is no longer yours, and the blood that runs through your veins doesn’t belong to you.

And Draco Malfoy has been standing on the other end of the room this whole time whilst his barbaric aunt tries to get information out of you.

The rest of what happens is experienced through the blur of hopeless tears your eyes are clouded with, until Harry picks you up off the floor after Bellatrix had pushed you and Hermione to save herself from the falling chandelier. A certain fire surges through you as you regain full consciousness.

You see Harry and Draco fight over his wand, and instinct kicks in as you lunge forward, efficiently tackling the latter to the ground. Snatching the wand out of his hand, you throw it to Harry. The blonde boy’s struggles are weak under your weight, almost half-assed as you feel the tension start to leave his muscles.

“Why?!” you shout in his face, grabbing him by the collar to keep him down. Tears well your eyes, but your gaze pierces through him nonetheless. The feelings of helplessness and emptiness are long gone as angry tracks burn down your cheeks. “Why—”

“Y/N!” Harry scoops you off him in one swift motion, pulling you to where your allies have regrouped. “This isn’t the time- w-we have to get out of here!”

You don’t say another word, and your infuriated eyes target the conflict and fear that resides in Draco’s. He’s left with the image of your anguish and fury engrained in his mind long after you disapparate.

V. Crossing Over

The Dark Lord himself beckoned him, and for a second you thought he might resist, but then his mother called him, extending her hand for him to come to her, and you saw him break.

“No!” You cry out as he starts to take hesitant steps towards the death eaters. “Draco, don’t do this!” His already shaky demeanor falters for a moment at the sound of his first name falling from your lips. “You have a choice.”

Steeling his nerves, he doesn’t allow himself to look back, because he would surely crumble under the weight of your gaze and the pain etched into your features. He continues forward, into the arms of a proud tyrant, and you swear your heart drops out of your chest.

Then, the whole scene with Neville’s heroic spirit ensues and you feel the fire within you flare up again when Harry tumbles out of Hagrid’s arms. Death Eaters that have been backing Voldemort start to disappear, leaving an unevenly distributed cloud of darkness.

Everyone else starts to retreat to the castle to regroup and fight as one, but you chase after the fleeing Malfoy family. It’s as though you have no control as your legs move under you on autopilot and as fast as they can go.

You’ve almost caught up to the trio on the bridge and can no longer help yourself.

“Coward!” You yell, trying your best not to let your voice crack, with no avail. It’s all you can do to keep the tears from spilling freely. Draco meets your eyes with his own that portray a boy who is terrified out of his mind, but you’re relentless. The truth isn’t always easy. “You’re a bloody coward, Malfoy!”

Avoiding your fiery gaze, he turns into his mother’s comfort. Not once do his eyes meet yours again before he disappears in a whisp of black smoke.

What you feel is rage, but with that rage comes with an added indescribable pain and disappointment.

+ Midsummer Night’s Dream

The next time you see the infamous Draco Malfoy is just over a year since he disapparated in a whisp of black smoke. Little do you know, immediately after apparating, the boy fell to his knees in the arms of his mother. He broke that day, and hasn’t been able to put himself back together since, contrary to the proud Malfoy mask he wears out in public. He hides behind crisp suits and perfectly-coiffed platinum locks. It’s enough to have anyone who reads the Daily Prophet fooled about how the heir carries onto a successful path despite everything that has happened.

But not you. He never could fool you of anything, really. So when you and your friends spot him taking a seat alone at the Three Broomsticks you know something’s up, because a refined Malfoy doesn’t just hang out amongst mere commoners like that.

“What is he doing here?” Ron spits out, red fury already starting at the tips of his ears and seething from his narrowed eyes.

As if on cue, Draco’s eyes lift from his glass to meet yours.

Hermione sends you a sympathetic smile before mumbling calming words to her boyfriend. The Malfoys and Weasleys always did get each other riled up.

Harry, who sits beside you, gives you a gentle nudge with his shoulder to get your attention and you can immediately read his expression. He can read yours just as easily and can see that you’re starting to get anxious. “Y/N…”

“Harry, it’s okay,” you simper, standing slowly from your seat. “I’ve got this.”

He casts a glance towards the blond across the room before his eyes come back meet yours, sending you a look as though to ask if you’re sure. You give him a nod and he sends you off with a comforting squeeze of your hand.

As you make your way to the table for one, you’re so focused on slowing your heart rate that you’ve arrived at your destination before you know it, seeing the shiny black dress shoes in contrast to the uneven wood panels of the pub’s floor. When you lift your gaze, it’s then that you realize he’s been staring at you the whole time.

“Malfoy.”

“Y/N.”

The sound of your first name rolling off his tongue lights something inside you— and it’s not pretty.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice is steady, but with a strong undertone of something darker. Like the calm before a storm.

“Can’t a man enjoy a butterbeer on his own?” Despite him being absolutely terrified of you, he somehow manages to exude a certain lightness. You look at his untouched pint and raise an eyebrow and he knows you aren’t in the mood for small talk.

“Cut the shit, Malfoy.”

Recognizing the beginnings of anger in your tone, he stands as smoothly as he can manage and gestures towards the door. The last thing he wants is for you to snap because he knows very well what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your fury.

He follows closely behind as you lead him out into the dim lighting of Hogsmead. The summer air doesn’t feel as heavy as it has for the last week, and the sky proudly shows off the twinkling stars. It would be a perfect night if not for your circumstances.

You stop in your tracks and spin to face him so briskly, your forehead almost hits his chin. “You have one minute to talk before I hex you where you stand.”

“You always did excel in hexes and jinxes—”

“Fifty-five seconds, Malfoy.”

“Uh- erm- o-okay—”

You have about zero patience left. The anger thats been quietly bubbling for the last year has been on the brim of overflowing the second he walked in tonight, but so has all the pain and sadness you’ve kept locked up all this time. “You’re wasting my time.” You prepare to stalk off, but a firm hand pulls you back by your elbow, and for the the first time since the war, your face with Draco Malfoy. It’s the first time tonight that you can really see him. He looks worse than ever.

The silver pools that once resided in his irises look like shells of what they once were. And he sure felt that way, until he saw you. That’s when he realizes how empty he always is until he’s around you. My, how he took that for granted all these years.

Trying your very best, you fight against the urge to give into the part of you who still cares for him and wants to know the last time he had a good night’s sleep. You also try to fight against the water accumulation behind your eyelids, but it only makes it worse.

“What?! What do you want, Draco?!”

The use of his first name is the only sign he needs to be brave for once. Without further hesitation, he leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. Once over the initial shock, you give in for only a half second before you come to your senses and push him back, both hands planted firmly on his chest.

“What the bloody hell are you playing at?!”

“I-I- Y/N, I-I’m so—” Right then, is one of the few times you see what he’s really feeling on the inside be expressed on the outside. “I-I just-I thought—”

“You- you thought what?! We’d ride off into the sunset on the back of a unicorn and live happily ever after?!” You don’t care how frantic you look right now. You don’t care that the midsummer night wind is whipping your hair into complete and utter chaos. And you definitely don’t give a single fuck about how the drunk people stumbling by you giggle uncontrollably. You pause for a moment as you wait for them to be out of earshot, and once they are, you let out a frustrated breath and resume. “Did you honestly believe that you could kiss me, and then everything— all of the absolute shite of a mess would just go away?!”

His gaze drops to the ground that his shiny dress shoes stand on, with a few platinum strands that fall from their place. Those are the only visible signs of something amiss with the well-dressed man. But you see something else cloud his features: shame. The last time you saw that, which was also the last time you saw him, he left. He always left you while you were angry, enraged, and never stuck around to face the truth.

Draco Malfoy decides that this time is going to be different.

He has felt as empty as his eyes appeared for months, but when his gaze rolls back up to meet yours, you see the grey storms you saw when you first met him. Sure, they were masked by an outer shell that was brimming with entitlement, but they have now what they had then. Purpose.

“Y/N,” His hands twitch as he fights the urge to reach out for yours, deciding against it in favour of using two words you’ve been waiting to hear. “I’m sorry.” You soften, releasing the tension you didn’t realize you carried in your shoulders. The angry tears that stung the backs of your eyes melt to something peaceful as they escape their ducts. “I’m sorry for everything I put you through. I know I don’t deserve another chance, or any of the chances you’ve given me, but if you’ll give me one more I promise I’ll be better. Everything you’ve ever said about me is true; I am a coward, but I’m not leaving this time.”

“And what if I want you to leave?” You ask, testing the waters, more than anything else.

“If you tell me to leave— if that is what you truly want, then I will. Tell me to leave, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

“Okay, then leave.”

“Is that what you really want?”

“Y-Yes—” You stammer out a complete lie. Every cell on your body knows it’s a lie, and apparently so does he.

“I don’t believe you.”

More than anything, you want to fling yourself into his arms but you feel like your feet have been colashoo-ed to the ground. A corner of his mouth quirks up into a soft lopsided smile as his hands raise to thread fingers through the top of your hairline, smoothing wild strands away from your face. His touch is so careful and delicate than you could have ever imagined. He leans down slowly and stops just as his lips have brushed over yours, asking for permission, “I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

Syllables get caught in your throat, and channel themselves through you body as you move to slate your mouth over his. The sensation is so delicately mind-blowing, and it leaves you absolutely breathless when you pull away to lean your forehead against his.

All you can manage to breathe out is, “stay”.

The way your breath fans over his lips is intoxicating, and he’s certain he’s never seen anything more beautiful, no work of art finer, than the way you’re looking at him.

“I’m not leaving this time. Never again.”

His grasp tightens as he pulls you back to his lips and your fingers curl around the light fabric of his shirt. Every emotion and feeling accumulated over lost time is poured into this kiss.

This time, what you feel for him is something stronger and far different than anger.

[sherlockmonkeesstartrek]

Hi there! Read your post, and GOD! After years of reading fanfiction about any fandom but The Hollies, you are like a dream come true! But sadly, I'm the least creative person, and I wouldn't know what to ask! Yep, my fav is Tony, and I love the second and third lineup (Tony, Allan and Bobby with Bern, Graham or Terry). If I imagine some smut, it would be some angry sex between Tony and Graham, even though they never clashed that much in RL. (1/2)

Hiii! I’ve seen your blog before and can I just say how much I love it

Anyways, I am totally digging that Tony/Graham hate fuck, so I wrote a little (6000 word) fic about them. I kinda got carried away, sorry XD So yeah, I haven’t read over it and I’ve never really written all that much about Tony before, so I just keep that in mine. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy; 

“Did you just,” Graham laughed, turning to look at the other boys in the studio as though for back up despite being well aware before even regarding their disapproving expressions that he was looking to the wrong people for help. Really, these comments were only to make light of the situation for himself, “Did you just see that? My god.” He turned back to where he’d just watched one of his bandmates storm out and sighed. “Tony Hicks. Who knew?”

Well, it seemed they all knew. They knew from the moment Tony started raising his voice, a odd spectacle for such a quiet young man, that he was capable of as much of a dramatic and aggressive exit as any one of the boys had managed before. Just because he stayed out of fights, stayed away from drama, didn’t mean he was totally incapable of getting involved. And the thing was, this wasn’t his fault. He hadn’t got into a fight, he didn’t instigate it. If anything, he was being patient for a good time longer than the other boys could. And when he did eventually snap, everyone agreed that he was totally valid in doing so.

Even the guy who started it, the very man who marvelled at the reaction in its aftermath. Graham had to admit he kind of went over the top on that one. He didn’t mean to start an argument. He just seemed to spark them by accident, and he wasn’t the type to back down on anything, even if it was better off if he did for his own benefit.

Still, he’d fucked up, what could he do now?

He shrugged off the negativity in the atmosphere and turned his attentions to finding his guitar. Where had he put it down?

“Guys, have you seen my pick?”

Not a peep sounded from his remaining bandmates. Casually, the rhythm guitarist looked up. He’d practically forgotten the fight in about two seconds of distraction. Apparently, it wasn’t so easy for the others, mostly because they had no interest in forgetting.

“What was all that about?” Allan was first to speak. He’d clashed with Graham many a time throughout the years, so wasn’t afraid to do so now. In fact, he felt inclined to do so to defend his mate and let his discontent be known to the perpetrator.

“What? Oh, the thing… nothing.” Graham muttered. He was outnumbered. Even he wasn’t on his own side about this. That was why he was so quick to try and ignore it. He’d done wrong. Something pretty fucking wrong. There was no reason to go off of Tony like that, yet he’d done it and… well… the not backing down thing, the trait that would get him killed if he wasn’t careful. He could see the headlines ‘English musician mauled by bandmates.’ What a way to go.

“Sure sounded like nothing.”

“Well, it was. He overreacted.” Ok, he didn’t even believe what he was saying, never mind whether Allan did, or Bobby or Bern. Basically, he was losing a war he’d inadvertently started with that minor battle, and that was pissing him off.

“Yeah?” Allan stepped forward, challengingly.

Graham ground his teeth, standing up to the challenge, “Well what do you want me to do about it now? Hu? Go and kiss him and make up so we can play some shit on another record we didn’t write. Oh sure.”

Apparently, kissing was a bit too much, but making up was exactly what Allan wanted. Graham sighed, frustrated as he turned to the door. He felt like a kid being told off by his parents, made to go and apologise to an annoying brother for aggravating him. Since when had Allan been so damn uptight? Oh yeah, since forever. Since he’d settled down with Jen. Even before that, in fact. He was suddenly so worried about what kind of music the band should be making or how much work they were all putting in or bullshit like that. Making music often isn’t something you can plan. It should be fun and exciting and…

…this had nothing to do with the argument. It seemed like Tony wasn’t the only one with a lot of pent up frustration. Graham rationalised that perhaps the guitarist should be thanking him. After all, it's not good for people to keep things bottled up without letting it out once in a while. And Tony constantly seemed so cool and calm, either he was getting it all out with some great sex every night, or he wasn’t getting it out at all. If the former was true, at least he was saving Tony’s chick from having a right good fucking tonight.

Actually, that was regrettable, depending on how you look at it. And as Graham wandered down the corridors, trying to find his bandmate, he found himself considering it from every angle. If he was Tony’s girl, he’d be a bit put out if she wasn’t getting anything out of him. He was handsome guy. It was the eyes, the slightly hooded, striking blue eyes. That was the first thing Graham thought of when he thought of Tony, the first thing he could imagine girls noticed. It was the first thing he noticed when he met the boy way back when. Though he may’ve grown into his ever youthful looks, his ears now were the right size for the rest of his face- or at least covered by a thick mass of fair hair curling down his neck- and he’d ditched the overly skinny look for a little more filled out and muscular, his eyes remained very much the same, as stunning and bright as they always had been.

What was Graham doing thinking like this of his mate? He laughed at himself, shaking the thought from his mind. He only had to apologize to the guy to get him back in the studio so they could finish a recording, not flatter him with complements of his eyes. Not only would that be really weird, but it wouldn’t work. Either Tony would think Graham was taking the piss or he’d get all shy. It was strange that such a handsome, sought-after boy like Tony was not used to receiving compliments.

He was doing it again, thinking about him like that. It would make it damned hard for him to face the boy if his mind was in other places.

Well not too hard. As soon as he caught sight of Tony in the loos, a cheekiness came over him, the same one that had persuaded him to go over the top on the little disagreement not ten minutes ago. He sauntered into the room and leant up against the wall by the door, arms crossed over his chest, one foot balancing on its toes beside the other, an expectant smile gazing at the guitarist who was washing his hands quite quietly. There was a bit of aggression in his actions. Graham didn’t think he’d ever seen Tony quite like this, letting something bother him to the point that his actions were affected. He wrung his hands beneath the water hard enough to turn his slightly tanned skin red and pressed the soap dispenser violently, causing the clear liquid to shot out and spray half on his cupped palm, half on the sink beside him. He then, after rinsing, pulled way too much tissue from the dispenser and threw the scrunched up, soggy ball in the bin with such force it popped back out, settling on the floor.

“Didn’t your mum ever tell you you should pick up after yourself?” Graham laughed, gesturing to the bin as Tony pivoted on his heels. He did not seem at all startled by the rhythm guitarist’s presence. In fact, perhaps he did already know that he was in there, hence the aggression in his actions and the casual way he regarded Graham as he leant back against the sink, his lips pressed into a hard, white line. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge Graham’s little comment. He just stood there, glaring.

“Come on, are you really going to be mad at me over this?” Graham sighed, bored of this already. He was also really starting to get bored of the silence treatment. It grated on him. He waited for a reply. None came.

His voice took a more impatient tone when he opened his mouth again.  “Look, I’m meant to apologise to you, so let’s just forget about this shit so we can keep recording and you can hate me afterwards, ok?”

The expression on Tony’s face changed, which Graham saw as a positive. At the very least it might be an indication that he might start talking and he was right.. It just wasn’t the response Graham had been hoping for.

“No, fuck you. You always seem to just bypass apologising, like you’ve done nothing wrong.”

Graham swore he didn’t mean to, but habitually rolled his eyes, which Tony obviously didn’t take well. He didn’t get angrier as such. He, if anything, looked disappointed. He had that ‘why do I bother’ look in his eyes, while which, in turn, irritated Graham to the point that had he been considering a proper apology, it was now definitely off the table.

“Mate, are you serious? All I did was disagree with you.” He said, any friendly tone now dropped completely.

“You fucking disagree with everyone.” Tony retorted.

“So you shouldn’t be taking it so fucking personally.”

“I’m not. I’m mad for everyone. I don’t know what the hell has got into you, whether it's fame or something, but you’re bloody unbearable at the moment, and the other guys can sit back and take it, but I’m not going to.”

“No?” Graham was now laughing at the younger man, amused by the determination to stand up to him. He thought it cute, and knew that would annoy Tony.

That, coupled with patronising him, and Graham knew he was heading to a breaking point. He wanted to see how far he could push his mate, since he was already in so deep.

“What are you going to do?”

Tony glared at his so-called friend intensely. His blood boiled in his veins, mostly those in his clenched fists that longed to slug the rhythm guitarist in the jaw. Oh, but he couldn’t, could he? It would make for bad press, unease in the group, which was the last thing they needed. Then again, there was a chance the fight would be settled with that one swing. Graham would know not to mess with Tony, he might learn a lesson or two about irritating the rest of the band and Tony would get out all the anger on his bandmate. When he thought like that, it was just too damn tempting. Not to mention that Graham, as he looked down and saw Tony’s skilled fingers curled into fists, practically asked for it.

“Are you going to punch me? Oh that I have to see!”

Well, he didn’t want to disappoint. Allowing all the anger he usually let go of build up, he jolted violently up, stalked towards the older man standing by the door and let the knuckles of his powerful right hand make contact with Graham’s cheek. Immediately, the rhythm guitarist stumbled sideways, one hand reaching to stop himself from falling, the other grasping his bruised cheekbone. When he steadied, he shot a wild look up at Tony, planning his revenge.

While Tony did feel pretty sorry, he wasn’t going to say it. It wasn’t he who owed an apology. The only reason he was considering it in that moment was because he didn’t really want to get into a fist fight, which seemed the way this was going, judging by the look in Graham’s pale blue eyes. Still, he stood his ground, waiting for Graham’s move.

Which turned out to be an attack, heading straight for the boy’s wrists. He wasn’t interested in hurting Tony. No, he was going to pin him down, make him beg for an apology. Once he had hold of one of Tony’s wrists, he spun him around, bending the arm up his back, applying enough pressure to have him totally under his control, then guided him to the sink area where he bent the kid over. A short hiss escaped Tony’s mouth as he pushed against Graham, writhed under his control. Graham wasn’t that much stronger than him, he just had the upper hand at that moment, in a position that made it near enough impossible to fight against.

This was also quite a compromising position. Even Graham had to admit he didn’t really want to be caught by anyone like this. For all the strength he possessed in that moment, his crotch was pressed against Tony’s butt, he had the boy literally bent over under him. No wonder why Tony struggled. But Graham was not going to let him up, not for anything.

He laughed evilly, “What’s the matter down there?”

“Get off!!! Graham, get the fuck off me!!!”

God, this gave Graham such a rush of power. He ignored how weird the moment looked in favour of bending right over and hovering his lips over Tony’s ear.

He caught a quick glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sinks. The oddest feeling waved through him that he refused to address. He shook his mind clean for a moment to say, “Is there something you want?”

“Get the fuck off me!!!” Tony yelled. It echoed around the room, followed by a low chuckle from Graham’s throat that had the younger boy struggling once more in anger.

“I thought you wanted an apology.” Graham teased, “You can’t be greedy and have both.”

“FUCK OFF!”

Tony lifted his head slightly, enough to also see the mirror. He looked so stupidly helpless under the weight of his friend, now baring down on his back. He met Graham’s gaze, gave him a filthy look until he noticed something. He saw a flicker of something in his pale blue irises. He’d seen it a few times before, most notably the time they’d all gone to that club with that belly dancer, the one they all had a crush on. Well, a crush was putting it nicely. They all wanted to fuck her. Graham was looking at him with a glare that would’ve been quite threatening and annoying- due to the cheeky smile on his lips- had he not also got that sparkle, that wanting gaze.

Did Graham want to fuck him?

“Oh my god…” Tony chuckled, turning his head downwards towards the space between sinks that thankfully wasn’t wet or dirty. Graham had been kind in where he’d pinned him down.

“What?” Graham demanded. He didn’t much like the feeling of loss of power that Tony’s laughter provided him.

Still giggling, Tony peered up a little.

“Are you turned on right now?”

“The fuck? Of course not!”

“I think you are, you fucking creep.”

Graham felt his cheeks flush. No way he was turned on. No way. Not even if he’d already kind of seen the excitement when he’d glimpsed the mirror. Nope. He’d deny it. He’d keep on denying it.

And he certainly wasn’t going to let Tony see the sudden colour in his cheeks. When the guitarist attempted to look in the mirror again, Graham snaked his fingers around his neck and twisted his head back to one side, resting on the surface.

“Listen, you’re the creep for even thinking that. Now, you wanted something, didn’t you?” He tried to regain the atmosphere from before. Both the boys were mad, and Graham was in control. He had Tony right where he wanted him and… ok so it might’ve turned him on a little bit, but at least in that moment Tony didn’t know.

He heard Tony make a breathy gasp. The position for him was awkward, but he was in no way screaming for oxygen. He barely even fought anymore. The smile on his lips, though, had faded in favour of a more frustrated expression.

“Yeah,” The boy said through gritted teeth, “I wanted you to get the fuck up, because you’re enjoying yourself too much.”

Graham ignored the indication of his pleasure in the position.

“Why don’t you ask me nicely?” He suggested.

Tony hid a smirk.

“And here I was thinking you were going to make me beg for it.”

Something, the same thing that had lit Graham’s eyes and coloured his cheeks, stirred within him again. He stared down at Tony, wondering what his next move should be.

He decided not to give the boy the satisfaction of knowing he was right. Or at least, he wasn’t going to get defensive. He wasn’t going to deny anything anymore, not outright.

“Alright, that seems like a good idea. Beg for me to get off you.”

Oh yes. That had Tony hesitating. It was a moment before he piped up.

“Are you serious?” He laughed.

In a low voice, Graham replied, “Deadly.”

“Fuck off.”

“I don’t hear any begging. I guess you like this, you like being bent over, do you?”

Fuck! Tony struggled once more, annoyed that Graham had somehow flipped this situation on its head, yet again. Not only did he have full power over his body, keeping him firmly against the sink, but he also had power because there was no way Tony was going to beg. He wasn’t a dog or a child and he certainly did not take orders from someone like Graham.

But what choice did he have?

“You can’t be fucking serious!”

“I told you, I am.” Graham chuckled. He decided he was going to have all the fun he wanted in that moment, letting loose a lodged phrase he’d been wanting to say as he waited for Tony to retort. “And since I am actually enjoying this, I might as well take advantage of it.”

Tony... didn’t get it. He was totally confused, thrown off by Graham’s admission. He really didn’t know how to reply. He really didn’t know how he felt about the whole situation anymore. He just knew that his neck was starting to hurt like this.

He tried to arch it away from the sink, only to have Graham push him back down, smothering him further into the countertop.

“Plea-“ Tony gasped. For a moment, he was about to beg. And in that moment, after hearing a small chuckle escape Graham’s lips, the fingers around his neck loosened. He was given a little leeway to move. Humiliated, he shut his eyes. Could he really do this? Could he really beg his friend for anything, a guy who he was still mad at, who he would happily kick in the balls if his legs weren’t pressed up against the back of his thighs? No, no he couldn’t.

Graham was beginning to enjoy the power again. Perhaps a little too much. But he’d half admitted as much, so he didn’t really care. He ignored the distinct feeling of swelling down south- he didn’t press himself too hard into Tony in case he could feel it- and instead directed his energies to thinking of something to say next, something evil, something that would really piss Tony off. Because it got him off, for some reason. Just the idea of the kid so helpless under him, conflicted as to whether he should humiliate himself or not, allow the older man to manipulate him or not.

He leant down again, hovering his mouth over Tony’s ear, the soft, fair hairs whispering against the curve of cartilage tickling his lips. Tony could feel his hot breath hit his skin. He cringed as he felt Graham laugh.

“What was that?”

“I didn’t say anything.” Tony muttered.

“I think you did.” Graham laughed, “Go on, you can do it and I’ll let you up.”

Not a peep escaped Tony’s throat for a whole minute as they stood in that position, so Graham decided to make it worse for him.

Since he’d first bent down and whispered in the guitarist’s ear, he’d got the urge to do it. The back of his ear looked so enticing. It was stupid and weird, but it wasn’t the only thing in the situation that fitted that description. There was a small sensation of this being a step further, but Graham had lost the ability to really stop himself, just as he had in the argument. He succumbed to the temptation and stuck out his tongue.

Tony felt a more humid breath against his skin, following a wet slap that sounded almost like a kiss being broken. Having no idea what was going on, his mind drew blanks until he felt it; Graham’s tongue dragged against the back of his ear, right at the tip of it.

And Tony found himself sighing involuntarily. He caught himself, eyes shooting open, body tensing, but the damage was done, Graham had heard it. If he could not tell by the way the rhythm guitarist abruptly paused, then he could by the chuckle rumbling low in Graham’s chest.

The older man, after his hesitation, completed the lick before closing his mouth and reopening it again. Suddenly, he had plenty of things to say.

“Now, if I didn’t know any better, I would say you enjoyed that.”

Tony had no reply.

“And you called me the creep.”

The younger man let his jaw fall slack, ready to reply, but the older man beat him to it.

“You’re a very bad boy, Tony Hicks.”

“Don’t say things like that!” He snapped back. His vigour, however, was beaten by the chuckles vibrating through his bandmate’s body. Did he ever stop laughing? Boy did Graham know how to piss people off. Tony wouldn’t be surprised to learn if that was the first thing Graham looked for when he met people, a way to really get right on their nerves.

“Well, you shouldn’t have moaned.” Graham warned, letting his lips fall a little closer to Tony’s skin, rather than his tongue this time, “Would you like me to do it again?”

And this time, even though given an option, Tony could not think up an answer. He should’ve said a definitive ‘no.’

That is, if that was what he wanted.

Suddenly, the conflict in the boy’s mind was still fixated on whether he should submit to his bandmate, only in a very different way, and with a very different answer he found himself reaching.

Without a reply, which Graham found annoying- he really hated being ignored- he let his lips close around Tony’s ear, kissing him this time before running his tongue over the flesh. Tony tried really hard not to enjoy it, but it’s pretty hard when such an act coaxed feelings like the pleasurable shiver rushing directly to his spine. His body tensed, though this time not out of discomfort. It was due to the beginnings of a tight pleasure pooling below his stomach. It seemed that, inside him, his boiling blood and flashes of red behind his eyes were starting to convert into a different kind of frustration than he’d felt previously towards Graham. Instead of the desperate want to punch him in the face, he really wanted to pin him down on the floor and have his way with him.

He’d never thought such a thing about a guy before, but in that moment, gender wasn’t a concern of his, certainly not to the part of his body responsible for his thinking.

Graham seemed to be taken over by the same appendage, as he began kissing down Tony’s neck, moving his hand out the way, and Tony’s hair, to reach the hot, slender parts of his skin. His hands, now free, ran down the boy’s torso until they reached his hips, which they grabbed with considerable force. He dug his nails in tight to the thick layers of fabric Tony was clad in, in hope of feeling his skin, his flesh, his bones beneath.

“Are you sure you want me to get up?” He giggled lightly between kisses. He was not going to give up teasing his bandmate for anything, and that was a fact. He’d gotten off on irritating him, he’d relished his humiliation, why stop now when things were just getting interesting.

Of course, Tony saw it as an annoyance, but that was exactly what Graham wanted it to be.

“Will you just shut up for a minute?”

“Oh, of course not!” He breathed, “I want it known that you got off on me bending you over and…”

Tony realised that Graham had gotten complacent in his pleasure. Despite the grasp he had on Tony’s hips, he no longer had the good positioning that gave him all his strength. In one swift movement, Tony twisted around under him and pushed him towards the wall. As Graham attempted to recover, Tony lurched at him and pushed his whole body up against him. His hands sought out Graham’s, pinning them to the wall either side of his head. Now he could see the light in the older man’s eyes, the desire he’d only glimpsed, the damaged he’d actually done to the left side of his face. It was already bruising. Hmm, they’d have to explain that to the media, those that saw them as good, clean boys, not the types who got into fights.

Tony doubted they’d see them as the types who liked other boys either, so perhaps a black eye was the least of their worries. He suddenly thought of the unlocked bathroom door, the studio that lay beyond it, and the one room where three friends, no doubt concerned about them, were and may not remain. There was any number of people who could walk in at the worst moment and see what they really shouldn’t.

But… if he went to lock the door, he’d lose his power over Graham, and boy had he been waiting pretty much the whole day- if not since he’d met the guy- for a chance like this.

He looked Graham in the twinkling eyes. The rhythm guitarist was waiting, waiting for a next move, aching for it. His stare was challenging, encouraging Tony to do something, anything, so the boy decided to risk everything to keep his position. He glared at Graham, thinking ‘you’ve no idea what we’re risking for this.’

His move, he decided, was to slide both his hands up, with Graham’s in their grasp, and hold them over Graham’s head. He found a way to keep both wrists pinned to the wall in just one hand, so the other could travel down his bandmate’s aching torso, down experimentally towards the waistband of his trousers. He looked so unsure. Graham did too, but his mind was now set on this moment. He needed this, he needed a release for his frustration and believed Tony could benefit from it too.

“I want this.” He whispered encouragingly. Never before had he ever so explicitly given consent, never had he previously had to, but it felt right in this situation, one neither he nor his friend had been in before. It struck a little confidence into Tony, evidenced by the quickening of his movements. He spread his hand over Graham’s hardness and lightly applied pressure. Graham gasped, to which Tony wanted to administer a little of Graham’s own medicine to him. He chuckled.

“Enjoying this, are we?”

Graham’s eyes met his.

“Now you can’t deny that you’re not.”

The younger boy shrugged, slowly removing his hand, much to Graham’s displeasure.

“I’m going to enjoy it a lot more in a minute.”

Curious, the older man watched. He wasn’t sure what part of his friend he should keep his eyes on; his face, his wandering hands, his torso, his… trousers. Eventually, though, the most interesting part was his hands, the one that lingered between both their crotches before turning upwards towards it’s owner’s waistband and those skilled, guitar-playing fingers hooked around the zipper of his trousers. He watched as Tony pulled down his fly and palmed himself through his boxers, straining handsomely against a thick bulge within them. He watched as Tony got off, pleasured himself, leaving Graham practically totally untouched, straining himself under far too many layers of clothing. The older man whimpered.

“This isn’t fair.”

With half shut eyes and a blissful smile on his face, Tony asked, “What isn’t?”

“I was winning. You’re a fucking dick. I had you…”

“Oh, but you wanted me so bad, you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Graham recognised his own tactics. Oh, they were cruel. He smirked to himself, almost as a pat on the back for being so goddamned smart. If only he could just work out a way to tip the tables again in his favour.

In fact, he didn’t care much about being in power, he just wanted not to be left out. He wanted to be touched. He’d happily beg, though he’d never say as much voluntarily.

“Fuck, look at you!” Tony continued. Graham could see more bliss, more pleasure building up tight within the guitarist. It was quite a sight, a view that cause want to simmer below his stomach. He recognised the pleasure that Tony was affording himself and wanted some for himself. “Quiet for the first time today. If it wasn’t so illegal, I’d do this everyday to shut you up.”

Graham’s voice came out as a half strangled moan when he tried to speak.

However, he did managed to say, “You’d do it because you fucking love me, admit it.”

“I love it when you’re not pissing everyone else off.”

“You love me when I’m not pissing everyone off.”

“I like the peace and quiet.”

“I…” He gasped loudly, “…really just want to come. Tony, come on!”

Tony grinned. He stared at Graham, making his own pleasure more obvious with rolls of his blue eyes and bites of his kissable lips. He even took it to the next step, pulling himself totally out of the boxers hanging loose on his hips and tugged hard, in full view of his friend. If a high level of adrenaline, caused by frustration and desire, had not been coursing through his veins, he probably would’ve felt more than a bit embarrassed and self-conscious under Graham’s watchful gaze, but his levels of confidence were soaring. He was coaxed on by Graham’s words too, as humiliating and embarrassing as getting your dick out in front of a mate was.

“Don’t… come on, I’m aching. Tony…”

“If you don’t beg,” Tony wickedly said, “You don’t get.”

To his surprise, it seemed a lot easier for Graham to stoop to that level of indignity than it had been for him.

“Ok, please Tony will you touch me. Or let me touch myself. I don’t fucking care anymore.”

“No?” Tony gasped, now unable to control his tone, “That’s disappointing, I thought you loved me. I though you wanted me.”

“Alright, alright, I want you, you fucker. Please, I want you to touch me.”

“If I move my hand, are you going to overpower me?”

Graham was not lying when he replied, “No.” And Tony could tell. It was probably the most genuine thing he’d said all day. So, if a little gingerly, the guitarist removed his hand from Graham’s wrists and feathered it down his body. Helpfully, Graham’s shot down to his fly and ripped it open. He groaned as Tony’s hand wrapped around him.

Oh, it was way better to have someone else do that rather than his own hand, Graham decided. Just the unfamiliar touch was enough to improve it, but there was so much more going on. Namely, the fact that Tony had an idea of what he was doing. Graham was sure he could make many a joke about that, like that Tony wasn’t really so much of a ladies’ man as he was a ‘right hand’ man, but he wouldn’t dare ruin the mood, by cracking some awful, distasteful and mocking joke unless, like the jokes about loving one another, both of them would know they were merely in good fun. There was also the forbidden aspect that made it all the more exciting. It had not slipped Graham’s mind that the bathroom door was open and he was well aware of all the shit they could get into, least of all the prison sentences they could receive should something like this get out. But, instead of scaring them shitless enough to do something about it or stop, it enticed at least Graham to continue.

And he knew it would not take long. He’d been aching at the most innocent of acts. By the time Tony had his hand pumping at his dick, he was further than half way close to climax.

So, it came of no surprise to him that he was first to come. He spilled over Tony’s hand, moaning with his head tossed back against the wall. He thrust up into Tony’s hand until the shockwaves of pleasure ceased. Then he looked down at the younger man, simpering.

Tony gave him a dirty look back.

“It’s not a fucking race.” He breathlessly snapped, “It’s not good that you were first.”

Graham nodded, “I know. I was actually glad, because now I can do this.”

He reached out and clasped his own, capable fingers around the base of Tony’s dick and followed the boy’s movements until he let him do it on his own. It seemed Tony had the same thought as Graham; it really was better done by someone else. A fact he well knew from all the chicks he’d had, but when directly compared to himself, and faced with someone who knew what they were doing, oh it was perfect. A few short minutes later and he’d dirtied Graham’s hands. Thankfully, as both the boys did check, they’d managed not to get anything on their clothes, save perhaps for some water from the counter and the sinks.

Breathlessly, the two boys regarded one another. They grinned stupidly, disbelievingly, not knowing what to say next. What was the protocol here? There wasn’t even one. All they could do was go back to how they always were. Nothing had changed.

“So…” Tony’s voice echoed around the room. After all that noise, the sudden lull in that bathroom was both too much for the boys, and not enough. They wanted to talk, to fill the empty space, but really didn’t, because it would mean addressing what had just happened.

Graham decided to go about that in an indirect manner by, once he’d tucked himself back into his trousers and zipped himself back up, nipping across the room to the tissue dispenser. He brought two bundles of tissues back with him, one for himself, the other for Tony. With that minor distraction, they found their voices.

“…friends?”

“We always were.” Graham replied, “I know I’m pretty overbearing and all…”

“You can say that again.”

“Fuck off. I’m trying to… apologise.”

“Does that mean we have to go back and record a song now?”

They both looked pretty helplessly towards the door, nodding as though to answer the question for themselves.

“So…” Tony repeated, “Do you want to go first… or… or I can…”

“Nah,” Graham waved that idea away, “We’re mates again. We go back together.”

“Ok…”

Neither made a start to the door for a moment. Tony pretended he was making sure there was no more evidence of their ‘time’ in the bathroom, while Graham chuckled to himself to get over the whole situation. Then, as though they’d agreed, they strode together out of the bathroom, into the corridor of the studio, which remained quiet. They silently made for their studio, keeping their eyes forward, their hands in their pockets, undistinguishable expressions on their slightly flushed faces.

They then walked into the room where their three friends were sitting almost in wait of them. Allan stood up immediately, waiting for a verdict as to whether they’d made up or not.

Tony opened his mouth, “He’s a fucking dick.” He announced, though that was not news to anyone. What was a slight surprise, though, was the smile on his face as he walked off to grab his guitar, and the one stretching Graham’s lips as his watched him.

“Yeah, but you all love me.” He insisted.

[projectema]

Canada 🇨🇦 Student Permit Pathway Journey

I started thinking about migrating to Canada way back 2016. Back then, I'm not aware of any other pathways aside from being employed (Express Entry). I was still single then and I never really was serious about it because 1) one must have a big amount of money to pursue it and I don't have that and 2) I think that it will be difficult for me to be employed because of my work experience (it's either you're an engineer, nurse, or caregiver then you'll get a higher chance of being employed hence higher chance of getting PR).

At the latter part of 2019 and at the beginning of 2020, I started to gather my courage and learn about the different pathways. I even went to immigration agencies in Makati to better understand them.

Fast forward to now, we're currently just at the beginning of everything. This blog will be updated from time to time to see the progress of our journey. I might not write a detailed one though.

Sep. 24-Oct. 17, 2020

As mentioned, the problem with our Canadian dream was MONEY. Fortunately, my tito Nestor and tita Ana were willing to support us in our endeavor. Which leads us to the 1st step and that was to pay the immigration agent 50% of 2,500CAD. This was a very hard decision for me to make because paying an immigration agent does not guarantee that I'll be granted a student permit. It will all depend on the strategy and the supporting documents that I'll submit. After paying, the agent asked me to sign a retainer agreement and to submit the following:

Resumé

Passport

Birth certificate

College diploma (my diploma was in Filipino so I still had to request for my english diploma - it costs P100 for 2pcs plus P200 for the shipping fee from LB to Sta. Rosa. I had to wait for several days before receiving it)

College Transcript of Records

After submitting all these, I still had to take an english exam as required by my chosen college (Langara College). Without the pandemic, I had to take IELTS Academic for this one. However, it's like a blessing in disguise because Langara temporarily allowed Duolingo Online English Exam as an alternative. It's way more cheaper and easier than IELTS Academic. IELTS Academic will cost around P11,000 while Duolingo is only $49 or P2,500.

The minimum required overall score is 110. I was so nervous while waiting for the result of my exam because there were questions that I weren't able to answer well. I got an overall score of 135, thank God! 😊

After submitting the result of my exam to Langara and also sending a copy of my exam result to my immigration agent, I have to pay the admission application fee of 155CAD (once again, thank you tito and tita) and sign a consent form stating that I am allowing my immigration agent and the educ. agent to handle my application and registration.

Right now, I'm still waiting for the response from the school and it will take 2-4 weeks to hear from them. After the school confirms a slot for me, I can then pay for the tuition for the 1st sem only.

Oct. 22, 2020

Ate Lala sent me a checklist so that I'll know the other documents needed while waiting for the response from Langara. She also sent me a receipt that showed that the application was already sent. While waiting, we can start doing the following:

Study plan - among all the other documents, this is the most crucial one. A guide questionnaire was given.

Bank statement/certificate of financial support from my tito/tita

Letter of support from tito/tita - ate lala provided a template for this one

Letter of parents property - affidavit form

Nov. 25, 2020

After more than a month of worrying, I finally received my LOO (Letter of Offer) from Langara College! 😭🥳 Now, I just have to ask my sponsors (Tito Nestor and Tita Ana) to pay for the tuition (1st half of the year only) including the non-refundable deposit fee amounting to 1,500 CAD. After paying, the school will send me my LOA (Letter of Application).

Dec. 2, 2020

There are many options on how to pay for the International Deposit fee (6,000 CAD) . There's the good old credit card, Flywire, and Western Union. All of which are connected directly to Langara College. There was quite a delay in payment because my sponsors had their Thanksgiving. Of course the "hiya" in me kicked in (as always). But, I have to ask them to pay for it ASAP because we were given just 10 business days to pay for it. At first, I told them that it's easier if we use Flywire. However, the exchange rate is too high. I can't wait for it to go down you know. So I insisted to ask my tita to just give me my uncle's credit card details (hihi). I just have to wait for the actual receipt and forward a copy to my consultant so that the educ. agent can already process for the LOA.

Jan. 22, 2021

I know. I skipped a lot of updates last December because of the holidays. Fast forward to 2021, I lodged my application last Jan. 16. After lodging, I got a biometrics request. We are currently busy at work that I didn't avail for any WFH sched because we are pressed for time (I wasn't surprised. Lagi na lang ganito 🙄). But because having my biometrics is important, I, instead, took a leave. But it's like a WFH as well because I had to attend to an online meeting in the afternoon. It's kind of unfair actually. 🙄 I think I'll be having another leave once I get a medical request. Or I might as well schedule myself for my medical even if there's no medical request yet. I'll still check my budget.

February 3, 2021

At last I received my medical request! However, the earliest schedule is on the last week of February. We're still too busy at work so I decided to schedule my medical on March 5. For preparation, I ate well and exercised for the last weeks. Let's see how it goes.

March 5, 2021

Last time I went to Makati was for my biometrics. I took the 7am schedule and I didn't anticipate the traffic jam at SLEX and that it was a Friday. I barely made it to my appointment. Thank goodness, after several petty fights with my husband (because we're really not Makati peeps so we easily get lost), I just came on time. This time for my medical, I decided to take the 6am P2P bus going to Makati. Oh, I opted to go to IOM Makati instead of St. Luke's because it's a lot cheaper. Aside from finding the right building, we still have to find a reasonable pay parking space. Yup. I just mentioned reasonable because pay parking rates in Makati is NOT cheap. Kung wala lang COVID-19, malamang nagcommute na lang kami all throughout. Going to Makati will always start an argument between Kim and I because of the directions and parking issues. I hate it actually. We seldom see each other and when in Makati we always argue about these things. Thankfully we found this pay parking spot which is not full and is somewhat reasonable (I'm not really sure, we didn't have any other choice). It was too early then so we ate our packed breakfast (to minimize expense) and watched Cobra Kai on Netflix.

We started to walk to the Trafalgar building at 8.30am. My appointment is at 9.05am. I brisked-walk my way going there. When we got there, we still have to wait for several minutes then the guard let us in. They do not allow companions so Kim had to go down and spend his waiting time at Starbucks just right across the building.

Before entering, the security guard will check your appointment then he will endorse you to their health declaration area. Once okay, you will have to fill-in an application first and then they will get a photo of you for your emedical form. These are the procedures I underwent:

Chest X-ray

Height, weight, blood pressure, eye exam, medical history

Blood chem

Urinalysis

Physical exam

The medical exam was relatively fast. It only took my 2.5hrs to finish all the tests. IOM Makati is very organized. The receptionist told me to wait for 10 business days for IOM to complete all the medical tests.

I’ve also read from this group/forum that I am in that if within 3-5 business days there aren’t any calls/email from IOM then it means that there’s no issues with my medical and that they have already forwarded this to IRCC. 

March 15-24, 2021

I followed up my consultant on March 15 whether my medical results were already reflected in the dashboard. Unfortunately, there’s none. At this point, I’m still okay. My patience is still holding on. Come March 19, which is already counted as the 10th business day from my medical, I followed up again my consultant if my results were already reflected in the dashboard. Still, there’s none. This is when I decided to call and email IOM to check if they already submitted the results to IRCC. Don’t ever try to call their office. It’s just a waste of your energy and time. Try emailing them instead but you’d still have to wait for 24-48hrs for their reply. I emailed them on March 21 and got their reply on March 23.

It said there that they already submitted my completed medical result on March 13. Due to my neglect (actually, it’s not neglect really. I just waited for the 10 business days because I don’t want to insist myself early on when they already told me to wait for 10 business days), if I had known that they can already submit this early, I should’ve followed up that early as well. 

I forwarded IOM’s email to me and the completed medical result to my consultant on March 24 and on March 25 she was able to submit the webform. It will take again 7-10 business days before my results will be reflected on the webform. Patience is still there.

Today is April 5 and it’s the 7th business day from the submission of webform of my consultant. I’ll wait for the 10th business day, which is on April 8 (or 9 for them). 

April 6, 2021

IRCC already replied and said that they had a technical issue that’s why they haven’t forwarded my medical result to the Canadian VO in Manila. My consultant had to re-send the files (e-medical sheet) via webform. 

April 9, 2021

IRCC replied and confirmed that they had already forwarded the e-medical sheet to the Canadian VO in Manila. 

April 30, 2021

After how many weeks of waiting for my medical result to reflect in the dashboard, finally it came out as MEDICAL PASSED on April 27, 2021. Manifesting and praying to have an APPROVED decision in the coming days or weeks. 

May 10, 2021

No words. 🥺 THANK YOU, LORD ☝️

May 12-20, 2021

PASSPORT REQUEST TIMELINE

●May 12 - Sent passport through LBC

●May 13, 14 - Received by VFS and transferred to Canada Embassy

●May 18 - Under Process

●May 18 - Received Correspondence Letter and counterfoil status sa GCKey. — Canada Embassy sent back the docs sa VFS

●May 19 - Received an update na sinend na ng Canada Embassy to VFS yung envelope with stamed passport. After few minutes received another update na sinend back na sakin yung passport. I contacted VFS after that to ask for the LBC tracking

●May 20 - Received my passport