#Trinity College event

[sunshineandlyrics]

Tweeted 8 November 2023 x (rumour)

So it could happen during the 2023/24 academic year.

Louis will be part of the Speaker Sessions organized by The DU Law Society at Trinity College Dublin - 12.09

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XLIV)

Chapter 44 : ‘I go up to the stone wall for a friendly visit.’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! Some best friend shenanigans!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3618

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

A Time to Talk

When a friend calls to me from the road And slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don’t stand still and look around On all the hills I haven’t hoed, And shout from where I am, What is it? No, not as there is a time to talk. I thrust my hoe in the mellow ground, Blade-end up and five feet tall, And plod: I go up to the stone wall For a friendly visit.

Robert Frost

Being back in Belfast felt strange. To be fair, you should have travelled back to this town sooner to visit Siobhán, but you had missed the couple of opportunities that had risen along the past year.

Now you were back in the town where your academic career had begun. Tomorrow, you would go back to visit the university where you had started teaching, where you completed your PhD, where you met your best friend…

… speaking of the devil…

“Y/N!”

You huffed, almost falling over the impact of Siobhán running into your arms. In the busy train station, you noticed a few strangers passing by with an amused look on their faces.

“I’m so happy you’re here!”

“I’m happy too!”

“Oh, and the tree is here too!”

Andrew laughed, giving your friend a hug as well, and your heart grew heavy with warmth at the sight. Andrew fitted so well in your life, with the people you loved most…

“Alright, let’s head to your hotel then… although you two could have stayed at my place…” Siobhán argued, while Andrew was already picking up the suitcase where you had gathered your clothes and his. You were only staying for four days, but they promised to be… eventful, knowing your best friend.

“I wasn’t coming alone, it was easier for us to get a hotel.”

“I mean… if that’s because you’re planning to get laid… perhaps that’s for the best, indeed,” she nodded, giving you and Andrew a disgusted wince that made you laugh. “It’s already quite late though… we should grab something to eat.”

You followed her plan, headed to your hotel so you could check in and leave your suitcase there. Siobhán had come to pick you and Andrew up at the train station, and would be driving you around during your stay, whenever she could. You let Andrew climb in the passenger seat so he could fit his legs somehow better than in the tiny backseat of your friend’s old car.

“I hope you won’t mind giving up your girlfriend for a few hours, Andy,” she joked as she stopped at a red light. “But I need some alone time with her. We have so many things to talk about… we need a proper girls night!”

Andrew merely laughed.

“Of course, I don’t mind. I’ll keep busy while you take my partner from me…”

Partner… that word was kind of new. You had been girlfriend and boyfriend for a long time, but ever since the two of you had moved under the same roof, Andrew had started calling you his partner. There was something so special about the title, something serious, too… something that echoed with equality in your relationship, with the two of you being a team. You loved it. Whenever he used that title, your heart melted.

It felt a little overwhelming though. As you watched the sunset reflect its colours over old buildings and glistening windows, you were worried. You had so much love for him… sometimes you weren’t sure what to do with it. How to show him. How to tell him. How not to fear the strength of it all.

“Only for a few hours. Will you survive?”

“Can’t be sure…” he joked, but it still made you stupidly giggle.

“Tomorrow!” you promised. “Tomorrow we have lunch with The Boss…”

“Christ, don’t I know about that… he’s overexcited, I swear… He couldn’t stop yapping around your lunch the entire week.”

“Cillian is a sweetheart,” you nodded, smiling at the mere thought of seeing your former boss again.

He had been your mentor as a PhD student, had hired you again post-graduation as a post-doc. He was saddened by your decision to leave for Trinity.

“Yes, but tonight, we celebrate you finally coming to visit, and we’re getting fantastically wasted!”

You could only laugh at that, but you didn’t fight your friend’s idea. You wanted to let loose indeed, to enjoy your time spent in your best friend’s company.

And that was exactly what you did. You spent your dinner catching up with her life, joking around with Andrew, who was being the responsible drinker this evening. Siobhán had already given him her car keys, so you and your best friend could enjoy yourselves fully, while your boyfriend would make sure both of you were safe.

Which led to the three of you being lost in a wave of laughter that didn’t seem to ever end, somewhere in some random pub you had stumbled upon.

“Just so you know…” you warned your boyfriend, who dried his wet cheeks on his sleeves, your words slurred by your intoxication, “if they do a lock-in… I’m volunteering you to sing so we can stay… this pub is grand!”

“It’s not the pub that’s grand, it’s just the whosk… the whisk…ey…” Siobhán staggered on her words before drinking another large gulp of the burning liquor.

“I am not singing tonight, darling,” Andrew shook his head. “If they’re kicking everybody out, we’re leaving. Actually, we should soon head out, it’s pretty late, and you’re both very drunk.”

“You’re no craic!” Siobhán complained, before turning to you. “Why did you get a man that’s not craic!”

“Andy’s funny! He’s silly! Very silly,” you defended your man, before being interrupted by a hiccup.

He laughed, kissing your cheek.

“I’m gonna head to the bathroom, and then we’re leaving. Okay? Be good, you two! I won’t be long.”

“Yes, mom!” Siobhán stuck her tongue out.

Andrew stood up, walked towards the bathroom. You watched him as he walked away, towering everyone in the bar, his long curls let loose over his broad shoulders…

You rested your cheek in the palm of your hand and your elbow on the greasy table, heaving a dreamy sigh.

“You’re disgusting looking at him with heart eyes like that,” Siobhán complained, nudging you playfully in the arm.

You stupidly giggled in response.

“Yeah… but look at him… he’s so pretty.”

You lost sight of him, heaved a dramatic sigh as you turned to your friend.

“Don’t get all romantic and sappy on me!” your friend admonished.

“I can’t help it.”

“You’re head-over-heels!”

“I am!” you admitted. “I can’t help it!”

“I must admit, that… Andy’s… kind of… amazing. But! But! But! But he’s…”

“Perfect,” you answered for her, making her wince.

“Of course not! No one’s perfect! What kind of nonsensically nonsensic… nonsense… sensicality are you talking about?”

“Of course… you’re right… he’s not perfect. Sometimes, he gets on my nerves. He’s stubborn sometimes. And he doesn’t fold his socks properly. And last week he ate the last piece of my favourite chocolate. And he doesn’t sleep enough, and it worries me a lot, and sometimes it wakes me up too. And he’s always late, although I don’t really mind that all that much, I like teasing him about that. And when he’s annoyed, he hides stuff very high on shelves so I won’t be able to reach them, although… he does that sometimes just to rile me up, he doesn’t have to be annoyed. And that drives me craaaaazzzyyyyy! But Siobhán… He’s so sweet… He reads the books I like, and he sends me songs he thinks I’ll enjoy. And last month, I twisted my wrist, and it was nothing, but it was painful for a few days, and do you know what he did? He brushed my hair for me every morning for a week, and he helped me wash my hair, and he cooked all the time, and he carried stuff for me… And he makes me laugh sooooo muuuuuch! And he’s so smart, we spend hours talking about politics, and art, and just… anything, really. And he listens to me. And he’s interested in me, and he thinks I’m interesting and that I say interesting things… And you know what else he does? He asks me about my day. Every day!”

Siobhán had grown quiet, listening to you. You were getting more and more emotional through what could have seemed like a silly ramble.

“I love him so much. Like… sometimes it’s overwhelming how much I love him. And I keep on loving him more and more, and I don’t even know how that’s possible, because… it’s like there’s no end to it. When I think I couldn’t love him more, I still do. That’s scary. Sometimes I worry, because… what if he doesn’t feel the same? Like… he’s the real deal, Siobhán. He’s… he’s everything. He’s the one. I think… I think he’s the love of my life.”

You blinked tears away, heaving a sigh. Your friend reached for your hand.

“There is one last thing we need to question before we can state whether or not he’s the one for you.”

“What is it?”

“How good is he in bed?”

You both exploded with laughter, but your answer was earnest nonetheless.

“Oh… All I will say is… I’m never disappointed.”

You were lost in a new fit of giggles.

“Really? That good?”

You nodded.

“Oh, yeah…”

You struggled to calm down, quieten your laughter. Meanwhile, Siobhán seemed to be gathering her courage now.

“Actually… I wanted to tell you… I think I have a crush…” she mumbled before covering her mouth with both her hands.

“A CRUSH!?”

“Shhhhhh! It’s a secret! Secret… like… in secrecy!”

“Who is it?”

“You can’t tell anyone!”

“I won’t!”

You swore an unbreakable pinky promise.

“I… like… Andy’s friend.”

“What? Which one?”

“His best friend!”

“ALEX?!”

“SHHHHHHH!”

“Sorry…” you whispered. “But, Alex?!”

“Yeah… after we helped you moving together, we bumped into each other again in a pub. And he was super nice! But I didn’t really think much about it. He gave me his number, because as you and Prince Charming are glued to the hip, we were doomed to cross path again. But then, he asked me if I wanted to go for a pint, and I said yes. And we talked, a lot. And we did it again, and again… And two weeks ago, he invited me to one of his gigs, cause it was here in Belfast, and mamma mia, Y/N. MAMMA MIA!”

She moved her hands in the air, looking up at the heavens.

“He was so fucking hot!”

You hummed, nodding your head, picturing Andrew singing in your mind… sweating, throwing his head back, closing his eyes, his fingers moving across guitar strings…

“Yeah… it’s hot.”

“He’s a bassist, Y/N! I can’t fight against that!”

“Hmmm… I get it. But… did you tell him?”

She bit her lip.

“Maybe, after that gig, we… hooked up?”

“WHAT?! YOU SLEPT WITH ALEX?!”

“SHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“You slept with Alex?!”

“Yes! And it was… amazing!”

She couldn’t refrain a grin. But you knew her like the back of your hand. You narrowed your eyes at her.

“But?”

She bit on her thumb.

“But… then I kind of… panicked… I left in the morning, and I’ve kind of… ghosted him.”

“Why would you do that?! Alex is nice! He’s a good lad!”

“I know! That’s what scares me! Like… I could… properly fall for him! And I don’t want that! I’m strong and independent!”

“You can be strong, independent, and in love!”

“Can I?”

“Of course! Look at me! I’m all of that!”

She gave you a tender smile.

“Yes, you are. But… I don’t know… the past few years, I’ve really enjoyed having fun, and just… enjoying being a woman without any attach, and having one-night stands and exploring sex. I… I don’t think I’d like not being exclusive with Alex, I really care about him.”

“Then… be exclusive. You can keep exploring and having fun… just with him.”

“Do you do that with Andy? Can you do that with just one person?”

“Yeah! Of course!”

She heaved a sigh, burying her face in her hands

“But it’s scary.”

“Loving someone is scary. But it’s worth it, I think. I’m scared all the time with Andy. But then I look at him, or I kiss him, or I talk with him… and I just… know that this is right. That he’s right for me. I can’t explain it. But he makes it worth the fear of losing him and being vulnerable before him.”

You were the one to reach for her hand now.

“I think that… tomorrow, once you’ve sobered up… you should call him. He’s a nice lad. I’m sure you two could be happy together.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah… yeah, I think so,” you nodded.

“Alright, I will.”

You exchanged a smile, and then Andrew was standing next to you again. He gave you a tender smile.

“Shall we go, love?”

You nodded, and he helped you to your feet. He drove Siobhán home, made sure she was safely in her flat before he called a uber and went back to the hotel with you. He helped you reach your shared room, started to help you undress so you could go to bed.

“Honey…”

He knew what that tone meant, but he threw you a cautious look while he helped you step out of your jeans.

“Baby?” he asked in a careful tone.

“I…”

You stared right into his eyes, and it was hard to deny that he wanted you while you stared at him like that, with that determined glint in your eyes, standing there, looking glorious in nothing but your underwear…

But you were drunk.

“I want you,” you huskily whispered, reaching for the buttons of his shirt, but he stopped your hands immediately.

“You’re drunk, hun,” he stated flatly.

“But I want you.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I do!”

“Babe… let’s go to bed. Come on. Tomorrow.”

You pouted, but didn’t argue. You took off your bra without a care for Andrew standing before you, and he helped you put on his old Thin Lizzy t-shirt.

You rubbed at your tired eyes.

“You need to drink some water, baby,” he instructed, walking to the bathroom to pour you a glass. “Then, we can go to bed.”

“Okay.”

You soon joined him in the bathroom though, and you reached for your toothbrush in the small bag by the sink.

“Do you need help with that?” Andrew asked as you struggled with the toothpaste.

“No, I can do it. I’m a strong, independent woman… and I am all that while being in love.”

He chuckled, something tender in his gaze.

“That you are. But you’re sure you don’t want some help with that toothpaste?”

“Nope!”

He nodded, kissed your hair.

“You call me if you need anything, okay? I’m gonna get changed too.”

“Okay.”

A few minutes later, you were both in bed, you in his arms and already almost asleep.

You let his warmth relax your tired muscles; his peaceful breathing lulled you to sleep, his scent blurred your senses…

“I love you, baby,” you whispered in his shirt.

You felt his smile against your hair as he kissed you goodnight.

“I love you too, darling.”

Seeing you wearing his clothes was Andrew’s favourite thing in the world.

Although, now that he came to think of it, he loved kissing you an awful lot too.

And having sex with you.

And talking with you.

Well, let’s say that it was one of his favourite things…

“Ouch… my head… I’m too old for this…”

Your groan made him laugh, he watched as you stretched across the bed like a cat, watched the fabric of his shirt moving over your chest.

“How drunk was I last night?” you asked, rubbing at your eyes to gather the strength to finally open them.

“Hammered.”

“Yeah, I can believe that.”

You looked at him, reached for his hand across the bed.

“I hope I wasn’t too much trouble.”

“Of course not. You had fun, that’s all.”

“Did I do anything stupid? It’s very messy in here… I need to think.”

You furrowed your brow as you tried to collect your thoughts, Andrew guessed that your memories of the previous night were a little messy.

He hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t particularly proud of how he had behaved, he knew he should have stepped back, but he hadn’t…

When you and Siobhán were talking, he walked back to the table merely a couple of minutes after disappearing. But instead of seating next to you again, he stopped and listened while you were unaware of his presence. It wasn’t spying, or at least he hoped it wasn’t. But you were having a private conversation with your friend, and he listened when he should have given you some time alone. But you were talking of him, and… he wanted to know. He needed to know what you thought of him.

Despite feeling bad about listening to your conversation, Andrew felt more at peace thanks to it. Because he felt the same about you. If you had made these drunken confessions to your friend, it had to be because you meant them. It had to mean that you loved him as much you said you did.

“So… I have the pub… oh… I’ll have to tell you something Siobhán told me last night, but you have to promise not to tell a soul, cause it’s a secret! And then… we took her home.”

Your frown deepened.

“I remember… wait… did we…?”

You raised a suggestive eyebrow, but Andrew merely rolled his eyes.

“You were drunk,” was his only answer, and you gave him a grateful smile.

“Right, so nothing happened.”

“You’ve covered half the bathroom with toothpaste trying to brush your teeth, but beside that… not much happened, no.”

“Did I?”

“A little bit.”

“Sorry,” you winced, making him laugh, bright and loud.

“Don’t apologise, it wasn’t that bad. I’ve been worse when out with Alex and the rest of the gang.”

You laughed at the memory.

“You were so out of it…”

You noticed then that something was off. Despite his tender caress over your knuckles, despite his tender smile, you knew there was something on his mind. He tried to hide it, but he could never hide anything from you, you knew him too well for that.

“Is everything okay, honey? Did I do something stupid last night?” you asked, your frown back on your lovely features, and he kissed the crease across your brow to soothe it.

He heaved a sigh.

“I… You did nothing wrong, I did. I’m really sorry.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.”

“No… no, I did something… I feel bad about it. I’m sorry.”

“What did you do?”

He bit on his lower lip, went to rub at his collarbone, but you held both his hands instead.

“You remember talking with Siobhán? Just the two of you? Right before we left the pub?”

You nodded.

“I… I came back from the bathroom before… what I said. I just… I planned on walking away and keeping an eye on you while you finished your conversation, but I didn’t. I listened to the conversation, even though you were confiding with her, and I knew it. I knew I wasn’t supposed to hear what you were saying. I’m sorry. I just… you were talking about us, and I… I got too curious. I’m sorry.”

You averted your eyes, sat up, seemingly upset.

He followed your movements, chased after you. You didn’t push him away when he rested his head on your shoulder. Good. You weren’t too mad…

“What did you hear?”

“Quite a lot. Too much.”

“Are you… are you freaked out?”

He shook his head.

“No, I’m not. I’m… relieved.”

“Relieved?”

“That you feel the same as I do.”

He heard your sharp intake of breath, tried to soothe it with a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

“You do? Feel like that?”

“Yeah… I do.”

You reached for his cheek, held his face in the palm of your hand so he would look at you. Did you know how much of him you held in this palm of yours? How much of his heart, of his love, of his life…?

“Baby… I…”

“I love you. More than anything in this world,” he interrupted you, tone firm yet tender, trying to make you believe his words.

You smiled.

“I love you too.”

There wasn’t much else to say. He was starting to believe that you would stay, that you did love him as much as he loved you, that this could work for a long, long time… that maybe you could love him for a lifetime, without any regret…

He was about to kiss you when your phone rang, breaking the fragile silence of the room. You cursed under your breath, but it was Siobhán’s name shining over your screen, so you picked up despite Andrew reaching to keep you close.

“Hello?”

“Y/N! I’VE FUCKED UP!”

You pulled the phone away from your ear because of your friend’s shout. She was panicking… wait, was she crying? Andrew had never seen or heard her crying before.

“What happened? Are you okay?” you asked, clearly concerned.

“You remember what I told you last night, right? Wait… is Andy with you?”

You exchanged a glance, but he nodded. Yeah, he had heard that part of the conversation too…

“Yeah, he’s with me, but that’s okay.”

“This is none of his business.”

“Siobhán… Andy and I have no secrets for each other.”

“Oh, you and your bloody romanticism!”

“Is it about Alex?” you asked, and Siobhán wailed over the phone.

“I DRUNK DIALED HIM! Y/N! AND I WAS FUCKING PATHETIC! WHAT DO I FUCKING DO?!”

“Erm… wait, we’ll think of something…”

But right at that moment, Andrew’s phone rang, and Alex’s name appeared on his screen.

You exchanged a worried glance.

“Shit!”

“Shit!”

[beardedmrbean]

I bet the last thing Bernie Sanders expected upon his arrival in Ireland and Britain was to be met by angry protesters—to find himself heckled and damned as a sellout by the kind of radicals who would have been shouting his praises just six months ago. And yet that is what happened: Some of Britain's Bernie Bros have morphed into Bernie bashers.

Why? Because he refuses to describe Israel's war on Hamas as a "genocide" and he doesn't approve of the boycott, divestment, and sanctions movement against Israel.

Quick—cast him out. Unperson him. He has ventured outside the parameters of acceptable Left-wing thought and must be punished.

It all kicked off in Dublin. Senator Sanders, who is on these isles to promote his book, Why It's OK To Be Angry About Capitalism, was speaking at University College Dublin. A group of pro-Palestine protesters assembled at the entrance to the venue, all wearing the uniform of the virtuous: a keffiyeh. "It's OK to be angry about capitalism, what about Zionism?" they chanted.

It got heated inside, too. Sanders was interrupted by audience members. "Resistance is an obligation in the face of occupation!" one shouted. "Occupation is terrorism!" yelled another.

Sanders kept his cool with his reply: "Good slogan, but slogans are not solutions," he said.

It continued at Trinity College the next day. Sanders was in conversation with the Irish journalist Fintan O'Toole. Outside, a small but noisy gaggle of anti-Israel agitators displayed a banner that said: "Boycott Apartheid Israel."

"Free Palestine!" they chanted. (Deliciously, a woman who was queuing for the Sanders event bellowed "from Hamas!" every time they said it.)

Again, Sanders was heckled by hotheads. "Ceasefire now!" they shouted. At one point, in the words of Trinity News, Sanders "threw up his right arm in frustration and looked at O'Toole, as if to ask him what would be done."

It is little wonder he felt frustrated. Sanders was there to talk about capitalism, yet angry youths kept badgering him about Zionism. He is used to a fawning response from Socialist twentysomethings, and yet now some were effectively accusing him of being complicit in a "genocide." It's quite the downfall for one of the West's best-known leftists.

The turn on Bernie is underpinned by a belief that he is too soft on Israel. The radical Left will never forgive him for initially supporting Israel's war on Hamas. Even his more recent position—he now says there should be a ceasefire—is not good enough for these people, who seem to measure an individual's moral worth by how much he hates the Jewish State.

They want Bernie to say the G-word. They want him to damn Israel as uniquely barbarous. They want him to agree with them that it is right and proper to single Israel out for boycotts and sanctions.

In short, they want him to fall into line. They want him to bend the knee to their Israelophobic ideology.

These illiberal demands on Bernie to bow down to correct-think continued when he arrived in the U.K. A group of communists protested against him in Liverpool. Normally, Sanders would have been shown only love in a historically radical city like Liverpool, said the Liverpool Echo, but this time, "the atmosphere was different," for one simple reason: "his refusal to brand Israel's actions in Gaza as 'genocide'."

Sanders' resistance of the G-word haunted him in his media interviews, too. Ash Sarkar of Novara Media, a key outlet of Britain's bourgeois Left, asked him three times if he would call Israel's war on Hamas a "genocide." He refused and it went viral. Armies of ersrtwhile Bernie fans damned him as a "genocide denier."

There is something quite nauseating in this spectacle of an elderly Jewish man being pressured to denounce the world's only Jewish State as genocidal. Millennial Gentiles who want to trend online might be happy to throw around the G-word. But Senator Sanders, who lost family in the Holocaust, clearly has a deeper moral and historical understanding of what genocide is. And it seems he is not willing to sacrifice that understanding at the altar of retweets or an easy ride.

Good for him.

Sanders' father was born in Poland, where most of his family were exterminated by the Nazis. Sanders is a son of the Shoah, a descendant of survivors of the greatest crime in history. To subject him to the modern equivalent of a showtrial in which you demand that he scream "Genocide!" at Israel feels unconscionable. As does branding him a "genocide denier."

Why won't he call Israel's war on Hamas a "genocide"? Maybe, says a writer for the Jewish Chronicle, it's because he lost so much of his family to Hitler's gas chambers and therefore he "knows what a genocide is, what a war crime is." He knows that while the war in Gaza, a war started by Hamas, is "horrible," to use his word, it cannot in any way be compared to the Nazis' conscious efforts to vaporize an entire ethnic group.

There has been a Inquisition vibe to some of the Bernie-bashing in Britain. At times it has felt cruel. The sight of fashionable, privileged Israel-bashers haranguing a man who will have heard stories from his own father about the genocidal mania of the Nazis has come across like Jew-taunting rather than political critique.

More broadly, this unseemly episode gives us a glimpse into the authoritarian impulses behind the Left's obsessive opposition to Israel. Israelophobia, it seems, is less a rational political stance than a borderline religious conviction. There are true believers, who dutifully repeat the G-word like a mantra, and sinful outliers, who refuse to treat Israel as uniquely "problematic."

One's moral fitness for radical society is increasingly judged by one's willingness to treat Israel as the most wicked nation in existence. The dangers of making hostility to the Jewish State a requirement of being a Good Leftist should be clear to everyone.

Sanders is wise to resist this tyrannical zeitgeist, and to say what he believes rather than what he believes will be popular.

Brendan O'Neill is the chief political writer of spiked. His new book, A Heretic's Manifesto: Essays on the Unsayable, is available now.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.

[anthonys237thfreckle]

Do you have any Javi headcanons? (Just about him as a character)

Javier ‘Javi’ Rivera - Headcanons

TW: mentions of death and mild bullying

🌪- Javi def grew up being called ‘Javier’ a lot in elementary school. He only transitioned to the nickname ‘Javi’ in late middle school/ high school.

🌪- Speaking of growing up, his freckles were made fun of, so he grew up being insecure about them. He doesn’t give a shit now, though, since the ladies liked it in college

🌪- He was always a fun kid to be around - very smiley when he was a young boy. In his teen years, he started discovering himself more, and in high school hooked up with both guys and girls.

🌪- He probably had his bi awakening through watching a movie and finding a male character hot, then being jealous of the female love interest.

🌪- Of course he was a little anxious about coming out, but he didn’t really care as much what people thought of him. If they asked, he’d tell them but he wouldn’t go around announcing to the school he’s bi or whatever.

🌪- He never really found an interest in subjects like art or music in school. He was really good in science, obviously. In elementary, his favourite topic was the water cycle.

🌪- In college, he was surprisingly good at what he did. He put a lot of effort into coursework AND balanced his hookups.

🌪- He found his group of friends: Jeb, Kate, Addy and Praveen - and he fit right in. The perfect balance of nerdy, ambitious and troublemaking.

🌪- His best assets in college were his holy trinity - hair, freckles and body. He did work out a lot in high school and maintained his figure in college, so that made him attractive. Those god-damned freckles made him eye catching and unforgettable, and his hair - a brown mop of curls, shoulder length and he rarely ever had a bad hair day (and as someone with curls myself, i need his routine.)

🌪- Javi’s lively personality was mostly squandered by two major events in his life. The EF5 accompanied by the loss of his friends and joining the military.

🌪- He still holds onto the grief of not being able to guide them through the storm, of being picked by the universe to live when three of his best friends died.

🌪- Part of him died too that day.

🌪- The military gave him a tough skin. Lots of physical training and whatnot - he still got to pursue and use his knowledge in meteorology, but more professional and safe this time.

🌪- To him it doesn’t feel the same.

🌪- Once he was done with the military, he started dating Scott mostly because he just wanted to feel something, and Scott made him feel things. However, the two of them didn’t mix and split up.

🌪- He’s a logical thinker, but under the influence of emotions, he’ll say whatever’s on his mind, no matter how hurtful it can be.

🌪- That’s why he’s a little afraid to get too riled up or to let his emotions free because he’s afraid of losing someone from saying something shitty.

🌪- However, after Kate talked some sense into him, he found a new purpose in life - to help people in danger. To save lives and communities, and he’s determined not to let anyone suffer the same fate as his friends on his watch.

[sanjoongie]

Arch Nemesis

For @cultofdionysusnet Mocha Madness event

🧠Pairing: Choi San x Reader (f) x ???

🧠Au: hero/villain au

🧠Trope: e2l (enemies to lovers), f2l (friends to lovers), established relationship

🧠Rating: 18+, MDNI, smut, angst

🧠Warnings: mind reading, emotion manipulation (they're superheroes, they have powers), cheating

🧠Kinks: mutual masturbation, sexual fantasies made reality, pussy slapping, deep throating, choking, penetrative sex with no barrier, oral (m), spit kink, deep throating

🧠Word count: 3,730

🧠Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland for beta-ing, my unholy trinity partners in crime 🥰 and to @starlitmark for bouncing ideas with me and helping this plot flourish!

🧠Summary: you're a hero, one who has struggled to remain good, but what happens when you're most guilty fantasy with your arch nemesis of all people, comes to light?

“Gotta go, duty calls,” You said as you leaned over in your bed and kissed San’s cheek.

“No,” San murmured, pulling you in tightly against his body, “Stay. They can send someone else.”

You gently extracted yourself from San’s grasp. “Nice try but I can’t be your pillow all night. Get some sleep, Baby.” San mumbled into his pillow as you left your shared bed with a fond smile on your face.

You and San had been friends since college; you'd both been training then to be supe's. The two of you had been brought together because of your powers. San had the ability to read minds and telekinesis, which was the makings of a villain. And you could shoot a heart with your finger and temporarily gain control of whoever you shot. Basically, your target would be in love with you and do anything for you. Which was also seen as the potential to be a villain. The two of you had banded together as outcasts and had been friends ever since.

Considering the reason you had become friends, you had made a pact with San: to never speak on your missions, because you didn't want your professional life to ruin your friendship. You didn't know what San’s alter ego was and he didn't know yours. 

It had been only recently that your friendship had bloomed into a relationship. You were happy for it. San was the perfect soft and caring boyfriend. If only you didn't have a dirty secret that involved your arch nemesis.

Your comms told you your mission was at the old Treasure Hotel. Loudmouth was up to his old shenanigans. Apparently he had used his screaming powers and made everyone vacate the hotel so he could rob the safe. Except once you got there, running through the hotel, attempting to locate Loudmouth, you found no one. It wasn’t until you burst through the door to the rooftop that you discovered him--and his long-time ally, Killjoy.

“And I’m gone,” Loudmouth announced, jumping from the top of the roof, screeching when he presumably reached the ground to halt his ascent. 

You narrowed your eyes down at Killjoy. The villain was your arch nemesis, the antithesis of your life. If there was a problem in your life, he was usually the center of it all. Of course you had to pull yourself out of bed from your boyfriend to confront the one man you didn’t want to see this evening.

“What’s this about, Killjoy?” You demanded. You summoned your power, folding one of your hands into the shape of a gun and using the other to support your wrist.

The masked villain smirked, folding his arms over his well-developed chest. “You can drop the act. I know.”

You continued to hold your stance. “If you know that I’ve plans for the mayor’s inaugural, that’s pretty smart of you. I didn’t think you had it in you,” you quipped.

Killjoy smirked. “I don’t need to be smart to know that you think of me when you stuff your pretty fingers inside of you.”

You dropped your stance immediately. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?” Killjoy cocked his head. “You don’t think about me tucking my legs around yours to hold them in place as I ease in three fingers and you tell me you couldn't possibly take that much but your pussy takes them easily. You don’t think about me whispering how it’s so dirty that a hero could be taking my fingers so well. You don’t think about me slapping your pussy and pinching your clit and--”

“ENOUGH!” You shouted. Shame was covering you from head to toe right now. That was your exact fantasy, down to how many fingers you wanted him to shove into you. How could he suddenly read your mind when he’s barely skimmed the surface before?

Killjoy hopped onto one of the fans on the top of the building and leaned forward on his legs. His crooked smile pulled to the side, revealing a dimple. “Why just think about it when we could make it a reality?”

“Abso-fucking-luytely not!” You said in horror.

A hero? Getting finger banged by her arch nemesis? Never!

“How about this,” Killjoy suggested in a smug tone, “You show me what you do when you fantasize about me…” He took a moment to spit in his palm, “And I’ll show you what I do when I think of you.”

Your jaw just about hit the floor. “Excuse me?!”

Killjoy raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think it’s possible that I think about holding you down on my dick, shutting up that smart mouth of yours, always calling me a failure of a villain?” You clenched your legs together but Killjoy didn’t miss anything. “Come on, what’s a little mutual masturbation between old time enemies, huh?”

Your body worked on its own accord, your fingertips moving to the teensy-tiny skirt of your uniform. Killjoy’s eyes are glued to the pathway your fingers follow until you’ve raised the skirt and he can see your still clothed core but…

Killjoy’s tongue came out to wet his lips. “Is that a wet spot, Loveshot?”

You pushed your lips together and nodded. “Yeah,” You let out a shaky breath.

“Show me,” Killjoy insisted, leaning forward even further, eyes glued to your crotch.

You leaned back against the rough stone of the old building, fingers hovering over your outer lips. “I--you tease me a lot,” You admitted.

“Mhmm,” Killjoy prompted you. 

“Sometimes you--” You gasped when you palmed your breast and found the nipple tight already. “--you pull and pinch my nipples and call me a superslut.”

You watched with bated breath as Killjoy peeled back the lower half of his suit and you sighed dreamily as his girthy dick was revealed. You knew there was a reason you used three fingers for him in your fantasies. “Now my turn. You usually say something about how my suit makes my dick look tiny, so when you protest, I rub my dick against your face and lips, but once my dick is seated in your hot mouth, you crumble and take it all for me.” Killjoy’s hips twitched upwards as his spit-covered hand moved up and down his dick. 

"Sometimes I get so wet from pretending my fingers are yours that I--" You bit down on your lip to muffle a moan.

"Who's gonna hear you way up here  Loveshot?" Killjoy smirked once again, "Let me hear all your desperate noises for me."

Shame still burns in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn't do this. You had San but everything was still new with him. This dirty little fantasy you've had of Killjoy had been around before you two had evolved from friends to lovers. You needed this.

You unceremoniously slapped your cunt and your head lolled back with how delicious it felt. "You tell me that I can take anything you give me, just like you know you can throw me into any situation as a hero and I can save the day."

Killjoy let out a low moan and scrunched his nose upwards. "I imagine your muffled noises as I push your face into my pelvis, making you take all of my dick. You choke and you cry and you say that you love every moment of it."

You're so worked up at this point that you could actually cum. "I'm--" You choked on the words when you watched Killjoy shamelessly spurt all over his hand.

He opened his eyes, heavy lidded with satisfaction and gave you a slow smile. "Come for me, my nemesis."

“Killjoy!” You come undone for him, pussy convulsing around your fingers and you ride them, closing your eyes for just a moment and picturing Killjoy’s smirk above you.

"Don't do that," Killjoy groaned.

You had forgotten he was still in your head. You ripped your fingers from your cunt and wiped them against your thighs to clean them. You turned to leave but Killjoy couldn't help but get a final verbal shot in.

"Where are you going, Loveshot? You're still thinking about me. You'll think about me later, won't you?" 

You threw up a middle finger as a parting gift and shifted the color of your hair and your nose. By the time you made your way to the bottom of the skyscraper, you were completely indistinguishable from Loveshot. But you were still the same person. You had just gray-area cheated on San with your arch nemesis.

Your comms buzzed and you saw you received a text you simply could not ignore:

Sannie🥺: wanna meet up? I’ll order your regular at Blue Bird.

You: just finished up, see you there

Guilt wracked through your body. If you said no San would know something was up. But could you truly sip on a sugary sweet beverage, which your best-friend-turned-boyfriend had memorized as your order, as if nothing had happened?

You stumbled into the coffee shop that you and San frequented, only a few blocks away from your shared apartment. You weren’t used to fighting crime, then having a mind blowing orgasm afterwards. Your super power wasn’t stamina, that was for sure. Your eyes sought out San immediately, who waved you over to the table he was seated at. 

“Hey Babe,” San greeted you.

“H-hey,” You replied shakily. 

San had his normal gray hoodie but it was barely zipped up and you could see a sheen of sweat covering his upper chest that peeked past the zipper. He smiled softly, “I couldn't sleep, so I went to the gym. Sorry, I must smell like a locker room.”

You laughed under your breath. “You smell like you just walked out of a perfume ad.”

San scratched the back of his head. “Careful, I think my heart just beat a little harder from that.”

You smiled painfully. You attempted to sit at the café table and faltered, barely catching yourself against the edge. Unfortunately for you, your abused clit took most of the weight as you collapsed against it and you made an embarrassingly loud and desperate noise.

San’s eyes widened and then immediately avoided your eyes. What did he just realize?!

“San?” You worried your teeth on your bottom lip. You managed to properly sit down and sip your drink to do something, anything. 

“Where did you just come from?” He asked quietly.

“Uh… you know, superhero stuff,” You shrugged.

The two of you had a strict policy of not speaking about your cases, to not muddy up each other’s professions. It just worked better that way. But San chose today to push it. He pushed up his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shifted closer to you. “Where did you come from?” he repeated firmly.

“The subway. Hostage situation. Wrapped it up pretty quickly,” You lied. 

San sat back but eased an arm around the back of your chair. “Good.”

The tension eased out of your shoulders and you leaned into San’s embrace. “I’m tired. Let’s go home.”

The two of you walked home, San’s arm still around your shoulder, you still leaning against him. You were cold and were trying to absorb some of his warmth. Not even the drink from the coffee shop could warm up the sinking feeling in your chest. Even as you got home, got ready for bed, you couldn't shake your anxiety.

Guilt is gnawing at the end of your mind and you know that there is no going to sleep like this. You turned to tell San that you’re going to wind down in the living room when he approached you from behind. His lips are like sweet caresses along the slope of your shoulder. “Come back to bed with me,” he murmured, as if he could sense you were pulling away.

“Sannie,” You turned around in his embrace, “My mind--”

San’s eyes travel over your face, a hand cupping one side. “You’re vibrating with the need to leave. Let me put you to sleep.” Gently, San tilted your head with the same guiding hand, peppering kisses along your jawline. 

Your heart soared and then crashed into your guilt. You couldn't possibly--not after what you did with Killjoy… “San, I’m really tired,” You protested.

“You’re not,” San disagreed with a rumble deep in his chest. “Even if your body may be, your mind is restless. I can help.”

San swept the straps of your pjs off your shoulders and continued to kiss down your neck to your collarbones. You can’t help but moan at the feel of his lips on your skin. Was your boyfriend seducing you?

"Where are you going, Loveshot? You're still thinking about me. You'll think about me later, won't you?"

Your body became tense with the sudden intrusion. Your powers brewed on the tip of your tongue and the pads of your fingers. You’d never use your powers against San but the need to push him off, to not mingle his touches with that of Killjoy’s was important!

“I have a better idea,” You found yourself suggesting before you could stop your treacherous tongue. “Let’s watch each other masturbate.”

San’s eyes widened considerably at your suggestion. “What?!”

Now it’s your turn to seduce. You ditched your top completely, to sit back on your shared bed and lie back, propping yourself up with your elbows. “Want you to watch me while I touch myself, Sannie,” You purred, “Wanna watch you while you touch yourself.”

San stumbled, as if his feet were moving him unbiddenly, but he made it to the edge of the bed where you were. You move so that the two of you are opposite of each other, a full view of whatever the other one’s planning on doing. You massage your breasts, making them pucker in the cool early morning air. San licked his lips like he wished they were wrapped around them. His eyes move to meet yours, waiting for you to start.

“Before we got together, when we were just friends, I used to get off to the idea of you sneaking in my bed and eating me out,” You said shakily. “I would play with my nipples and put so much lube on my pussy, using one of those flower vibrators, wishing it was your tongue. I had convinced myself that you loved eating pussy and it was something I wanted you to want with me.”

San groaned and began to palm himself through his sleep pants. “We were idiots.”

You couldn't help but giggle. “We were.”

San watched with rapt attention as you pulled aside your underwear and dipped a finger into your wetness. You spread it along your clit, moving in slow, tantalizing circles, careful of how abused your clit had been just a few hours ago by your own self torture. “Sannie?” You prompted him.

San snapped out of his deep thought while watching your finger circle your clit and pulled himself out of his confines. “I used to want you to use your power on me.” His voice cracked and he had to clear it. “Make me do whatever you want me to do. I used to edge myself for hours alone on the thought that you’d never let me cum unless it was inside of you--pussy or mouth.” San’s blunt fingernails dug into his thighs but he didn’t touch himself.

You stop touching yourself and crawled towards San’s body. “Do you need some lubrication?” 

San whimpered as you hovered over him, hands on either side of his hips. You spit on his cock, letting it slowly dribble downwards. You leaned downwards, almost as if you were going to take him in your mouth but instead you simply blew air on him. San’s hips thrust into the air, whining again. “Please,” he asked but you weren’t sure he even knew what he was asking for.

“Go ahead and touch yourself,” You encouraged him.

“ ‘m sensitive,” San mumbled, eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinked many times, a cute pout pulling at his lips.

You can’t help but grin at the admission. “Did you masturbate while I was out, Sannie?”

San’s body jerked backwards, a loud gasp in the back of his throat. “N-no.”

You dropped your body so that you could take San’s cock in your mouth with one quick dip of your mouth. San’s body strains at being encompassed suddenly by your warm, wet mouth. Tiny thrusts into your mouth tell you all San wants is to get off in your mouth and by the throb of your lower half, all you want is to give it to him. 

"I imagine your muffled noises as I push your face into my pelvis, making you take all of my dick.

How is it that you're sucking off your sweet boyfriend and you can't get Killjoy's degrading voice out of your head?

At that exact same moment, San's hands grab both sides of your head and he began to fuck your mouth. You have no time to think, only time to make sure your breaths time with the in-and-out motion of his cock down your throat. Your nose practically buries itself into San's bronze skin, mouth coming flush with the base of his cock. San had never--

Just as quickly as he held you down on him, he pulled you off of him. You stare up at him, saliva and precum dripping from your open, panting lips. “San?”

San adjusted immediately, a dopey sweet smile pulling at his lips, making his eyes become crescent moons. “I don't want to cum in your mouth.”

You're fast to climb onto his lap, arms draped over his broad shoulders. “My baby,” You couldn't help but coo, “You really do put me first, don't you?”

San smiled shyly, scratching the back of his head. “I love you, that's why.”

Your heart burst at the admission. “I love you too, sweet boy.”

The two of you moved your hips in sync, exchanging kisses and moans, as you made love in your shared bed. This was where you wanted to be: in San's arms, drinking in his noises of pleasure, being the center of his world. You didn't want to be with--

Your climax hit you like a slow burn and the first thing that tumbled from your mouth was the name you had been thinking of. “Killjoy!” you groaned quietly.

San’s body was ramrod straight even though you could feel his dick twitching inside of you, his cry cut off at what you said. You scrambled to remove yourself from his body but San wrapped his arms around you to keep you firmly in place.

“What did you just say?” San said in a voice that broke your heart into a million pieces.

“No-nothing,” You stuttered, throat full of emotions.

“Where did you go when they called you out,” San demanded again, bringing up his question from earlier.

“I told you, the subway--!” You squealed as your back hit the bed, San pinning you down with his heavy body against yours.

San reached for your hand and squeezed it tightly, intertwining your fingers with his . “You have two seconds to answer me correctly before I read your mind, love.”

“San!” You gasped and visibly reeled back. San never invaded the minds of the ones he loved, he swore he would never. 

San licked his lips, a frown furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m not asking casually.”

Your gut was telling you that suddenly your entire world depended on the answer to this question and you had no idea where it would land you. “I was on the rooftop of The Treasure Hotel.”

San cursed lowly. “Loveshot?”

Your heart was beating a mile a minute. Had San just guessed your alter ego? What did that mean? 

San let go of your hand and shakingly raised it to his face. You thought he was going to rub it tiredly over his face, somehow privy to you cheating on him with your arch nemesis. “Sannie, please, it was nothing!” You cried out.

Instead, he covered his eyes and smirked. “I already know.”

Your blood chilled in your veins. 

The masked villain smirked, folding his arms over his well-developed chest. “You can drop the act. I know.”

“Killjoy?” You yelled in disbelief.

And, you swear to God, San's dick pulsed inside of you upon hearing his alter ego's name upon your lips in your shared bed.

“No,” You shook your head. There was no fucking way your best friend, your boyfriend, was an evil villain?

Flashbacks to the supe's college you both attended, the way you were both outcasts, vaguely bringing up your powers as the reason. Bonding over wanting to overcome your natural abilities and prove to everyone you were good. 

“Someday, the world won’t judge me,” San had proclaimed. Clearly that had not crossed over very well.

It all came crumbling down around you. 

San lowered his hand and there was a glint in his eye. “If I had known…”

In some fucked up way, relief flooded you. You hadn't cheated on San; you simply masturbated with his alter ego. That was okay… right?

“Are we…” How were you going to meld the two worlds together, how could you continue to date and fuck a villain, how-- “Are we okay?”

San’s lips surged towards yours in a kiss that was desperate and messy and yet somehow full of love and adoration. “Do you still love me?” San gasped into your mouth. 

You looked up at the man who was your everything. Even now, knowing he was your arch nemesis and had been for a long time, he was even more so your everything. He was your world when you weren’t working and he was your obsession when you were. Was this going to fuck up your job? Absolutely. Was it going to fuck up your relationship?

“I love you like the sun loves the moon,” You admitted. Surely the two bodies in the sky were enemies, constantly chasing after each other, constantly fighting for time in the sky. 

A subtle shift of San’s hips had you gasping. He was hard inside of you. His eyes were alight with love and mischief and lust. “I love you like a villain loves a hero.”

And that was the end of that conversation.

taglist: @hijirikaww @flurrys-creativity @stardragongalaxy @mingsolo @k-pop-ology

special suffer with me braincell tag: @smallfrye

[bookuce]

Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it. 

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OCs. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, and Alina is Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 2,272

PART 5

THE MASTERLIST

PART SIX

“I miss you,” Josh confesses into the phone. It was the first Friday that Alina had missed in almost five months. As much as she would love to continue on the road with Josh, she needed to come home. Alina missed her family and friends; one weekend with them would solve her problems for a few months. While she was at home in Atlanta, he was up in New York. He and the Family arrived at the arena early for camera work. Now, he was hiding in one of the empty green rooms backstage.

“It’s only been a day.” She says, moving through the kitchen with a bucket of ice and wine. She places the black bucket on her coffee table, returning to the kitchen for three wine glasses. 

“Yeah, and I’m already losing sight in my left eye.” He informs her. 

Alina snorts. “Boy, shut up.” Josh might’ve been experiencing some separation anxiety. Would he admit it? No, but Alina could tell. They had spent every day together since that night in her hotel room. She’d join him on the bus, or he would room with her. The hotel became frequent after Joe and Jon decided the couple was starting to get on their nerves. They loved them a lot, but the displays of affection were beginning to become too much for them.

“You know what could cure me?” He asks, propping his feet on the small coffee table before him. He crosses his right arm over his chest, tucking that hand in his left elbow.

“What?” She asks, tucking her phone between her shoulder and ear. She carefully grabs the three wine glasses and returns to the living room. The sound of a video call began to ring in Alina’s ear. She grins, leaning down to place the glasses on the table. She removes the phone from her ear and answers the call. The call screen disappears, Josh’s face now taking up her screen. He’d grin at her, flashing his teeth adorned in gold jewelry. “Hey, baby.” She greets him.

“Hey, Mamas.” He replies. “Fine ass.” He says, making her laugh and look away from the camera. “What you got planned for today?” 

“Cassie and Tasha are coming over for a movie night.” There were three of them, have been since college. While Alina excelled in Journalism, her friends Cassie and Tasha were nurses. Moments like these with them make her so happy. Though they didn’t talk as often as they used to when younger, it always felt like the trio never missed a beat when they came together.

“You not watching me?” He asks.

“I’ve seen enough of you.” She says.

“I ain’t seen enough of you.” He tells her, tilting his head to the side. “As a matter of fact, you should show me a little something something.” He closes his left eye. “Help cure the blindness in my left eye.” He tells her.

“What are you talking about?” She asks, lifting an eyebrow.

Josh bites down on his lower lip, tilting his chin downward. He lifts his brows at her. “Show me one of them thangs.” Alina’s mouth drops at his request.

“Ugh, get out of my phone!” She exclaims, ending the call. Right on cue, her doorbell rings, prompting her to take her mind off her boyfriend. 

Josh would suck his teeth at the lack of response, tossing his phone on the couch. He leaned his head against the back of the sofa, allowing his eyes to fall shut. Josh was going to go insane. He didn’t understand why he was having difficulty coping with her absence. He’s done it plenty of times before they got together. How come now, and only now, has it become so challenging?

Buzz! Buzz!

Josh’s phone lights up from the cushion next to him. He quickly grabs it, hoping that it is Alina following through with his request. Instead, it was his brother.

Jon: Wya. We opening the show. Producers want to talk to us

Josh shoots back a quick ‘ok’ before pushing himself off the couch. “Shit, if we going on first, I’m dipping out after this.” He says to himself. He was now looking for plane tickets to Atlanta. 

•••••••••••••••••••••

Music filled Alina’s living room while she and her best friends caught up with each other. Each lady had a glass of wine, their legs folded beneath them. “So, the wedding rehearsals will be at five,” Tasha informs Alina. “We’re then going to have the rehearsal dinner at the winery.” She takes her phone, leaning over to show Alina the aesthetic for the dinner. “Michael wanted to have dinner inside one of the halls at the Venue, but I just think under the stars with fairy lights and candles would fit better. Very romantic, very boho.” She concludes, smiling big to herself. 

“This is beautiful, Tash,” Alina says, smiling at the Pinterest board. “Is there anything I need to do though? You know I’ve wanted to help since you made me the Maid of Honor.” Tasha shook her head. 

“Nah, girl, it’s cool. You have a lot on your plate with the WWE and everything. I wouldn’t want to add more stress to you. All I really need is for you to show up.” She says, peering up at her friend. “You still coming, right?” She asks. Alina laughs.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world! To stand by you during your big day is too important to me. Besides, Paul already gave me the weekend off.” Alina assures her. She had missed a large chunk of helping Tasha plan her wedding. Alina gave most of her input on the wedding over the phone. She wishes she didn’t miss dress shopping with Tasha and Cassie. Alina planned to buy a large binder and put things inside it—like a wedding planner. She got the idea from a movie she loved growing up. Oh well, she’ll save that idea for another time. 

Another time. 

Out of their little circle, Alina was the only one unmarried. Cassie has been married for five years, while Tasha has been officially married since last week. Alina’s eyes venture down to her wine glass. She should probably tell them she’s seeing Josh. The truth is, the couple was trying to keep their relationship under wraps as much as possible. It wasn’t like they didn’t want anyone to know they were together; Alina and Josh just wanted to keep it private while they explored this new normal together. If the relationship doesn’t work out, no one will know it happened other than the people involved. 

“So,” Alina breathes, gaining her friends’ attention. “I have a confession to make.” She says.

“You pregnant?” Cassie asks immediately.

“Don’t wish that upon me,” Alina snaps. 

“Okay, so what is it?” Tasha asks.

Here goes nothing, she thought. “I’m seeing Josh.” She confesses. Tasha and Cassie stared at their friend silently, waiting for some clarification. She didn’t say what they think she did, did she?

“Tonight? Josh is in Atlanta?” Tasha asks, lifting a brow.

“No, Josh is at Smackdown in New York,” Alina explains, shaking her head.

“Then how are you seeing him?” Cassie asks.

Alina groans, shaking her head. “Oh my God…” She whispers, bringing her hands together. “Josh and I are seeing each other.” She says. “As in, we’re fucking.” She specified. There frankly was no gentler way to describe this to them. “Josh and I are fucking.” She reiterates. 

“You’re lying,” Cassie says, surprise apparent in her voice. Alina shakes her head. “Now, how the hell did that happen?” She asks.

“We got drunk, one thing led to another, and the rest was history.” Alina was somewhat happy they happened the way they did. She could only imagine where they’d be if it didn’t happen. She’d probably be on her fifth date going nowhere, and he would have been chasing them off. It was a never-ending cycle, it seems. “He makes me really happy, though.” She says finally. “Apart from y’all, that’s my best friend.” She continues.

Tasha squealed softly. “Well, it’s about damn time.” She says. “It was obvious y’all would end up here when he first started coming around. Y’all go out to lunch together, y’all ride to shows together. Hell, the man lives in Florida but is always in your house here in Atlanta.” She says, counting on her fingers. “I give it four months, though.” Alina and Cassie look at their friend, confusion apparent on their faces. “What? He’s going to propose before the end of the year. I already know it. That boy is in love with you.” Alina rolls her eyes at the assumption.

“We’re just getting to know each other.” She says.

“What more is there to know?” Tasha asks. “Besides the human body, and I’m sure y’all’ve done enough of that.” A knock at the front door pulls the women from their conversation. They become quiet, now looking at each other. 

“Did y’all order something?” Alina asks, standing to her feet. Tasha and Cassie shake their heads. Another knock would sound throughout the living room. “Just a moment!” She exclaims, quickly making her way over to the door. She grabs the doorknob, twisting it to pull the door open. There, on the opposite side of the door, was Josh. “I…” Alina says, her eyes lowering in squints. She turns her head slightly before stepping to the side to let him in. 

“Speak of the Devil,” Cassie says once he is in the house. 

“What’s up, y’all.” He waves slightly, glancing over at Alina. As she closed the door, she continued to squint at the man. She had questions. He drops his duffle by the door before walking toward the kitchen. Alina lifts a finger at her friends before following Josh into the kitchen. He was pulling out a short glass from her cupboard, about to pour himself a drink. 

“Why are you here?” She asks, leaning against the island. He grabs the bottle of bourbon she had hidden in a cabinet above the stove. “You’re supposed to be in New York.” She says. 

 “Well, damn, hello to you, too.” He says, leaning over the woman for a kiss. She’d return the kiss but glanced away when he tried to steal a few more. They were talking, and she wanted to keep it that way. “We opened the show tonight, and Paul had nothing else for us to do, so I left. I caught a flight straight here after our segment.” He explains. He expected her to react differently to him being here, but he also didn’t think her friends would still be here pushing midnight. Josh leans onto the counter, his dark eyes on Alina. “I’ll go upstairs, get out y’all’s way.” He promises. They would stare at each other in silence.

“Josh!” Tasha calls from the living room. Josh would look away from her, his eyes going to the kitchen entrance.

“Yeah?” He answers. The sound of feet hitting the floor could be heard before Alina’s friends joined them in the kitchen. 

“Since you and Lina are official now, are you coming to the wedding as her plus one?” Tasha asks. 

“You and Michael’s, right?” He asks. 

“Yes, sir.” She confirms.

Josh reaches up to scratch at the greying beard on his face—something he does often when deep in thought. He’s out of the loop for most things in Alina’s life. Though Josh has been friends with Alina for two years, he didn’t start coming around until a year into their friendship. Even then, it was rare for him to see her friends or family. He was a part of her life that was separate from the rest until now. He was okay with that. It was the same for her with his family. She had only met them a few times in passing backstage. “I don’t know, when is it?” He asks. 

“The Saturday after next,” Tasha answers. “There will be a dinner the night before at the venue.”

Alina glances down at Josh again, his eyes finding hers the instant she turns. “You want me to come?” He asks. She nods. “I’ll buy a suit then. What’s the dress code?” He asks.

“Formal,” Cassie answers. “Black tie preferred.” She adds. 

“We can go suit shopping tomorrow if you want?” Alina says. Josh would nod, leaning off of the countertop. The couple return their attention to Tasha and Cassie. 

“Good,” Tash breathes. “I guess now that that’s settled, we should get going. It’s getting pretty late.” She says, glancing at her phone. “It was good seeing you again, Josh.” They wave at him before blowing kisses at their friend. They make their way back towards the living room. The front door opens and closes, leaving the pair alone.  Josh downs the rest of his drink.

“You know I’m mad at you, right?” He says suddenly. Alina spins around, her brows furrowed.

“What did I do?” She exclaims.

“You hung up on me earlier. No goodbye, no ‘I love you’.” He explains.

“You wanted me to show my titties!” She shouts.

“And I still do!” He replies. 

Alina laughs slightly, her eyes finding the floor. Slowly, she begins to back up, waving her hand at him. “I’m not doing this with you.” Josh starts to walk after her, a mischievous grin on his lips. He’s about to chase you, she thought. She turns her back to him, picking up her pace.

“Where you going?” He asks, causing her to start running towards the stairs. 

“Josh!” She screams as he snatches her up and tosses her over his shoulder. 

PART SEVEN

____________________________________________________________

A/N: omg hey friends LMAO

so whoopsies, i got distracted BIG TIME (no rush). forgive me pls. So this is basically a filler chapter. I have some things I want to happen and I got to find a way for us to reach the drama. You'll love it though, I promise! In the meantime, I'd love to talk with you about this chapter if you have anything to say lol

k bye!

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseveryonewant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @capswife @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @emperessdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland 

comment to be added to my tag list for all my stories!

[aimeedaisies]

The Princess Royal’s Official Engagements in November 2024

01/11 As Visitor of Strathcarron Hospice, visited the Hospice. 🫂

As Deputy Colonel-in-Chief of The Royal Regiment of Scotland, visited the Headquarters at Edinburgh Castle. 🫡

As Patron of the Eric Liddell 100, attended an Awards Dinner at George Watson’s College, in Edinburgh. 🏃🏼‍♂️🍽️🏆

05/11 As Master of the Corporation of Trinity House, presented Merchant Navy Medals for Meritorious Service at the Corporation of Trinity House. 🎖️

As President of Racing Welfare, attended a Reception at Sladmore Gallery. 🏇🏼

06/11 On behalf of The King, held an Investiture at Windsor Castle. 🎖️

As Patron of the Learning and Work Institute, and as President of Carers Trust, this attended the “Driving Change” Conference at City Lit College. 📒

As President of The Duke of Edinburgh’s Commonwealth Study Conferences, attended a Reception at Brunswick Group. 📚

As Patron of Shaftesbury, later held a 180th Anniversary Dinner at St James’s Palace. 🍾

07/11 As Vice Patron of the British Horse Society, attended the Annual Awards and Race Day at Newbury Racecourse. 🐴

Alongside the King and the Duchess of Gloucester, held a Reception at Buckingham Palace for medallists of the Paris 2024 Olympic and Paralympic Games. 🥇🥈🥉

09/11 With Sir Tim Was present at the Royal British Legion Festival of Remembrance at the Royal Albert Hall. Also in attendance were, The Prince and Princess of Wales, The Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh, The Duke and Duchess of Gloucester, and The Duke of Kent were also present. 🌹

10/11 With Sir Tim Attended the National Service of Remembrance at the Cenotaph. Laid a wreath alongside the King, the Prince of Wales and the Duke of Edinburgh. Also in attendance were, the Princess of Wales, the Duchess of Edinburgh, the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester and the Duke of Kent. 🌹

11/11 unofficial Sir Tim, as GWR Advisory Board member, visited Swindon train station with the Poppies to Paddington, then travelled to Paddington Station by train. 🚝

unofficial Sir Tim Attended a Service of Remembrance at Paddington Station. 🌹

12/11 Attended the HIV Drug Therapy Glasgow Congress at the Scottish Event Campus. 💊

Visited the University of Glasgow’s Mazumdar-Shaw Advanced Research Centre. 🔬🥼

As Royal Patron of MND Scotland, attended a Supporters’ Reception at the MND Scotland Office. 🍾

13/11 Visited the College of Master Kilt Tailors’ Headquarters at Askival of Strathearn. 🪡🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Opened Letham4All’s Letham Community Hub. 🏢

Opened the YMCA Tayside Youth Centre in Perth. 👦👧

As Chancellor of the University of Edinburgh, held a Chancellor’s Dinner at the Palace of Holyroodhouse. 🎓🍽️

14/11 As Chancellor of the University of the Highlands and Islands, attended the Nursing and Optometry Graduation Ceremony in Inverness. 🩺🎓

16/11 As Patron of the Scottish Rugby Union, attended the International Rugby Match between Scotland and Portugal at Murrayfield Stadium in Edinburgh. 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿🇵🇹🏉

19/11 Attended a Reception at the Suffolk County Council Offices before opening the Gull Wing Bridge in Lowestoft. 🌁🎗️✂️

Unofficial Sir Tim presented the Billy Deacon SAR Awards during the Air League’s Annual Reception Ceremony at the House of Commons. ✈️

20/11 As President of the Royal Yachting Association attended the British Olympic Sailing Team Luncheon at the Royal Thames Yacht Club. ⛵️🍴

As Commandant-in-Chief (Youth) of St John Ambulance, attended the Young Achievers’ Reception at the Priory Church of the Order of St John in London. ⛑️🩹

As Chancellor of the University of London, attended the Foundation Day at Senate House, and conferred an honorary doctorate in Literature on Queen Camilla, for her public work in the field of literature and literacy. 📜🎓

21/11 As Patron of the Royal College of Anaesthetists, attended their Winter Symposium. 💉❄️

As President of the City and Guilds of London Institute, attended The Princess Royal Training Awards Conference at Goldsmiths’ Hall. 🏆 Sir Tim Laurence presented the Billy Deacon SAR Awards during the Air League’s Annual Reception Ceremony, held at the House of Commons, on 19 November 2024.

With Sir Tim As President of the British Olympic Association, attended the Team GB Ball at the Roundhouse. ✨

26/11 Opened the Hospice UK National Conference at the Scottish Event Campus in Glasgow. 🏥

27/11 As Chancellor of the Health Sciences University, attended a Graduation Ceremony at the Bridge Theatre in London. 🎓📜

As Patron of Transaid, attended the Annual Showcase at the Africa Centre in London. 🚛🚚

As Royal Fellow of the Royal Academy of Engineering, attended a New Fellows’ Dinner at Drapers’ Hall. 🍽️

28/11 On behalf of the King held morning and afternoon Investitures at Buckingham Palace. 🎖️

29/11 As Patron of the Moredun Foundation, attended a Conference at the Moredun Research Institute in Penicuik. 🐖🐑🐄

Total official engagements for Anne in November: 43

2024 total so far: 414

Total official engagements accompanied/represented by Tim in November: 3

2024 total so far: 94

FYI - due to certain royal family members being off ill/in recovery I won't be posting everyone's engagement counts out of respect, I am continuing to count them and release the totals at the end of the year.

[scotianostra]

On July 3rd 1449 James II took formal control of his kingdom following his marriage to Marie of Guelders, niece of the Duke of Burgundy in Holyrood Abbey.

Marie, or Mary as she became known in Scotland had been earmarked to marry Charles, Count of Maine, but her father could not pay the dowry. Negotiations for a marriage to James II in July 1447 when a Burgundian envoy went to Scotland and were concluded in September 1448. Philip promised to pay Mary’s dowry, while Isabella paid for her trousseau. Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy settled a dowry of 60,000 crowns on his great-niece and Mary’s dower (given to a wife for her support in the event that she should become widowed) of 10,000 crowns was secured on lands in Strathearn, Athole, Methven, and Linlithgow.

William Crichton, Lord Chancellor of Scotland was sent to Burgundy to escort her back and they landed at Leith on June 18, 1449. Marie was 15 and James 19 when the two wed on July 3rd and immediately after the marriage ceremony, Mary was dressed in purple robes and crowned Queen of Scots. Consort by Abbot Patrick.

A sumptuous banquet was given, while the Scottish king gave her several presents. The Queen during her marriage was granted several castles and the income from many lands from James, which made her independently wealthy. In May 1454, she was present at the siege of Blackness Castle and when it resulted in the victory of the king, he gave it to her as a gift. She made several donations to charity, such as when she founded a hospital just outside Edinburgh for the indigent; and to religion, such as when she benefited the Franciscan friars in Scotland. The couple had six children, the oldest James, became James III.

James II died when a cannon exploded at Roxburgh Castle on August 3rd, 1460, before his death he had ordered another castle be built for his wife who was left to oversee it’s construction as a memorial to him, Ravenscraig was still being built when Marie moved into east tower. She also founded Trinity College Kirk in Edinburgh’s Old Town in his memory, she herself died and was buried there in 1483, the old Kirk was demolished, amid protests in 1833 and Marie was interred at Holyrood Abbey.

[betterthanapokeintheeye]

The Pratchett Project - Terry Pratchett at the Unseen University

[Event News]

The Pratchett Project - Terry Pratchett at the Unseen University

Location: Trinity Long Room Hub, College Green Dublin 2 Ireland

Date: Fri, 22 Sep 2023 18:00 - 22:00 IST

The Pratchett Project in Trinity College Dublin is an interdisciplinary platform for research into the life and works of Terry Pratchett. It builds on the comprehensive collection of Pratchett’s works and their translations into forty languages, held in the Trinity College Library, as well as Pratchett’s personal connection with the College, borne out of the adjunct professorship he held from 2010.

A further part of this endeavour is driven by Pratchett’s own life story and inclinations. In 2007, Pratchett publicly announced that he had a rare form of young-onset Alzheimer’s disease, called posterior cortical atrophy. He subsequently became a passionate campaigner who was determined to reduce the stigma of dementia. A docudrama on BBC followed the literary career and charitable work of the beloved author.

So, research into brain health is an important part of the Pratchett Project in Trinity College. The Pratchett Project are currently developing this strand of the project to find new ways in which the implications of breakthroughs in research can be “translated” for members of the public. They aim to bring people together from various backgrounds and fields to make new connections, to promote public understanding and awareness, to change perceptions and inspire people to support brain awareness campaigns and get involved.

This Culture Night, they will be joined by a wide range of speakers, each discussing their research, which is in some way connected to the life and/or work of Terry Pratchett.

THIS EVENT CAN BE ATTENDED BOTH ONLINE AND IN PERSON.

It will also be recorded and uploaded to their youtube channel.

Tickets are available through eventbrite.

[thecrownnetflixuk]

Rewatching Favourite Scenes:-

The Crown 3x06: Little Sis Supports the Drama King

In Season 3 of The Crown, 20-year-old Prince Charles was sent to Aberystwyth to learn Welsh in preparation for his investiture as Prince of Wales – real life events which occurred in 1969. The real Charles struggled to feel welcome in the country, grappling with the language as well as anti-royalist sentiment : -

“I remember going round parts of Wales and being met by demonstrations ... you didn’t quite know what was going to happen. In those days, bombs went off.”

It does seem likely that the homesick prince would phone his then 18-year-old sister Anne for (adorably snarky) support during this turbulent time. With less than 2 years between them, the royal siblings have long been said to "rely on one another."

Anne continued to cheer her brother on. Following his time in Wales, Charles returned to Cambridge and, rather surprisingly, decided to pursue acting alongside his academic studies. The teenage princess was spotted watching in the audience as Charles performed a skit as a weather forecaster which he had written himself.

"[Charles] probably would have made it as a comic, if he'd been that way inclined,” said comedy writer John Lloyd, a fellow performer at Trinity College Dryden Society.

Other performances included Shakespeare. Perhaps one day Charles the drama king might become a Netflix star for real, with Princess Anne in best supporting role.

THE CROWN S6 PT I premieres on Netflix: Thurs 16th Nov 2023

*The Crown TV: proudly NOT using AI/ChatGPT to create original content since 2017.

[emyluwinter]

Okay, fine.

They liked my short ideas on this idea and asked me to do another part.

It will definitely be very messy and will have errors. So I'm sorry if I miss any inaccuracies somewhere or make an invention in the plot I decided to demand less from myself. Therefore, weak text is better than not written text at all.

I also tried to mark everyone who asked under that original post. I'm sorry if I missed someone. the first part -

For the record….do not write with a nagging constant two-day pain like me.

Warning - self-destruction, nervous breakdown, manipulation and intimidation. Anxiety and depressive disorder. PTRS.

Following the President of the School Board through the corridors of the Noble Bell College, Yuu could not get rid of the nauseating taste of something nasty bitter and bilious. Disgusting, unpleasant, caustic, remaining on the tip of the tongue for so long that they wanted to brush every inch. Their hands continued to shake as if denying the very existence of any control over them. Hidden behind the back or pockets, so as not to give away a single second of weakness of the body. Weak legs barely dragged to make awkward steps. Wadded, swollen, Yuu could make up their own dictionary of synonyms to describe their deplorable condition. Every cell of them literally begged for rest, begged for peace and a blissful recovery. Pouring through the veins with a heavy metallic substance that tightened and dried up every second of the breath of life….

Right.

Less than a week has passed since a nervous breakdown occurred away from all eyes. And they already demanded from themselves to close this event again in a deep box at a depth that no light falls and the pressure will crush the bones of anyone who tries to at least get close to this pandora's chest.No one should know about this. Not a single "living soul".

But it doesn't matter now…

Right now, it was more important for Yuu to get the permission of the Director of the Noble Bell College. Without at least a vague, not very detailed plan, fleeing and leaving the Night Raven was extremely reckless. It was a foolhardy naive decision that they had to believe, sincerely believe that Yuu could trust others. How many times did they have to come up with a plan on the go? How many times to give hints to others and not even be heard?

It was as if they were left on hot coals and the time was lost in every second. All these moments, all these cases when their words really had weight and meaning for others. Looking back, it was all too clear that they were barely enough for a handful of sand the size of a field mouse's paw. Everything to please others, nothing to do for ourselves. One of the most difficult tasks or a chain of intricate quests that were born in their head, which must be completed without exception. Before they can give themselves some rest.

The first. Go to the college grounds and find someone from the trinity who knows them personally by sight.

The difficulty is that this is a closed institution, without an invitation from the outside, you cannot pass and contact anyone. To meet Rollo Flamme is a good option, in Yuu's opinion, he harbored some kind of special strange kindness and tenderness because of their "pure soul and noble heart" in the form of the absence of any magic. A strange guy, but now anyone who will not refuse at least a simple overnight stay will do.

The second

is that no matter who is found, we must remain honest. It was carved into all the fragments of the heart and what was left of Yuu. Honestly tell everything without this damned lies and tricks, deception and manipulations with which they were fed up to hoarse vocal cords. Tell them that they need a place where they could stay until adulthood. Be a janitor? It'll do. To be a man who will plow to the bone crunch just to earn himself a couple of extra madols to get back on his feet? Not the most desirable option, but now their presence is in a negative value. You choose the lesser of two evils.

The third

is to get to the college principal to talk directly and ask for a place before graduation. Not even don't as a student. What the hell kind of study is it, maybe, if Yuu won't apply it for a fraction of a second of his life?!

They will not be hired just because of their knowledge of magic, if there is no magic itself. Even weighing everything from the rational side, Yuu agreed that this would be the most delusional development of events that they can only imagine. In addition, if there is still a chance that they will return home….

They will not only have any knowledge in order to find a job, they will not have any necessary experience behind them in order to integrate back into society.

They will need to start all over again. Again. Like a hamster in a wheel without seeing either the end or the beginning.

An excellent option would be if their training is related to purely household things. Yuu are already very good at repairing things, even in their own world they could find something similar. If they come back….

If only they hadn't been thrown away as an unnecessary thing….

No.No.No. Not now.

"Pull yourself together, we have almost reached the third point. Everything will be fine…"

Take a deep breath, rummaging in your pants pocket and finding a small box, Yuu took out one mint lollipop and quickly sent it into they mouth. To suppress this stupid nausea and distract from the fact that they are getting chills. It's been hours. As if they are in icy water, heavy and prickly. It's good that they have already learned to control their appearance so much that it's not so obvious.

Judging by Flamme's short stories while they were heading to the office, the Principal of the Noble Bell College is a very kind and very wise man. Taking another deep breath through his nose, Yuu straightens up when they reach the office. They had experienced so many dangerous and deadly events that the usual dialogue with someone older was ridiculously harmless.

****

-I don't believe my ears… - The Director exclaimed in amazement. He was an aged man, with a straight, not arrogant posture, but confident and honed with the years he had lived. A large, age-wise forehead, with deep wrinkles dotted all over his face, not at all repulsive from his good-natured appearance.

Yuu really liked his fluffy thick gray eyebrows, which stand out sharply from all the features. And sideburns. They were so fluffy that it seemed a little comical despite his strict appearance.

-Rollo, this is the first time I've heard you ask for a college place for someone. Taking someone in the middle of the semester..

Softly and politely clearing his throat, drawing attention to himself, Yuu added. -Sorry to interrupt, sir….I agree not even to be a student. If you will allow and pay your attention, listen to my situation completely. After looking at the two teenagers who took turns arriving quite early in his office, the Director pointed to a small table and several chairs in front of his desk.

-Have a seat, I think we have a long conversation ahead of us. Rollo, please pour a glass of water for our guests. They look very unhealthy, I'm afraid that we need to go to the infirmary after our conversation.

-Yes, sir. - nodding politely in agreement, Flamme quickly went to a table near the wall, and taking a carafe of water began to fill glasses for them all. Yuu lowered the backpack next to his feet, slowly settled down on one of the chairs right in front of the director's desk.

-So…My name is Idiv Oden, I am the principal of Noble Bell College. And as far as I can remember, Rollo was talking about one very memorable student without magic from Night Raven College. After introducing himself, Oden glanced briefly at Rollo, who loudly knocked the tip of the decanter's beak on the glass when he was mentioned like that.

Apparently, he was somewhat confused by the fact that this particular detail was remembered. The director apparently looked like a grandfather who diligently looks after his grandson. If only he knew how bad this grandson was. Well, a good alignment in Yuu's opinion. In any case, it is better to feel some polite goodwill than open hostility and swearing, which I had to face on a daily basis.

-My name is Yuu, sir. And…. - it turned out to be more difficult to start than Yuu expected, nervously licking his lips, trying to calm the trembling in his hands and voice. Taking another short breath, Yuu tried to lay out all the cards that they have now. Leaving a couple of details for those options when they may be needed more than now.

-If I was able to find the information correctly in the past. The building where the Noble Bell is located and now it is a college… was a place of refuge for anyone who needed and asked for it……I don't have any kind of magic, and frankly, I don't intend to be your student. I just need a place where I can live for the next two years. Of course, I will try and work to pay for everything.

Two years. It is this time period that would be enough for all those people who knew Yuu, whom they once treasured, to graduate from college and the memory of the student without magic erased from their memory. Two years to lay low, not to attract attention and views from the island of sages. Not to see that damn uniform or any of the familiar faces. Two years to sew up the remnants and patches that remained of their hearts, anew and hide from all eyes as soon as possible. Considering this "thing" too unnecessary in this world, but necessary to at least live a little further. And two years… to try to find a solid, unshakable foundation under your feet. The one that Yuu can't lose anymore or someone will steal it on a whim. Even if they have to face the painful fact that they will not return home and will remain in this world for the rest of their lives…

They will think about it a little later, now something else is more important.

-That's right. Once upon a time, a righteous judge was so kind-hearted that he did not deny anyone in need if their thoughts were pure…But child, please tell me why did you drop out of Night raven College so suddenly?

Judging by the look, it was possible to understand Director Auden that he was trying to find out all the details of Yuu's situation. And to understand their good intentions or not.

Noble Bell College is not a place that anyone can come and stay who wants. They will have to answer to the Ministries and the highest level on which the whole system rests. So, if the situation requires it, let's go back to one of the points of the task. If you need to enlist their support, you need honesty and proof. What could be better than a material answer to all their many questions. Words have no weight and meaning in helping Yuu. They've already burned it on every inch of their every bone. No one will listen to a teenager without magic. Show me, not tell me.

-Because of circumstances that I couldn't take anymore. - Taking a glass of water from Rollo's hands, Yuu took a big sip to calm their nerves a little, hurried to leave the glass on the table next to it. Rummaging in his breast pocket and taking out a weighty envelope, Yuu handed it to the Director.

-Here are photos in the place where I lived for more than six months … also in the envelope there is a cassette and a small player that will make it clear to you that I was in a state of painful… dependence on Director Dair Crowley…

Taking the envelope and hastily opening it, Director Oden gestured for Flamme to come closer and personally look at the photos. He wanted to get the opinion of one of his trusted students for a solution.

It was somewhat funny for Yuu to see the full range of emotions reflected on their faces.

Initially there was shock and surprise, it seemed that their caps almost flew to the ceiling from their outburst of magic, misunderstanding and denial of what they saw replaced their initial reaction. Then disgust and disgust, which were replaced by irritation and some rage in their eyes.

The photos were completely convincing, mold that ruined most of some rooms in constant humidity. The ceiling, the corners of the windows, on the floor or walls, did not matter. Wild poison ivy invaded the entire garden and the back extension with firewood, which could not be approached without pruning shears and protective gloves. Glass strewn like a sandy beach all over the floor on the floors next to boarded up windows. Collapsed roof beams spreading a view of the whole sky. Time-warped steps and crooked stairs that are about to collapse from a light breeze. Tons of dust and soot that buried the whole building…

Slowly sipping water from their glass, Yuu felt a little better, it looks like they had dehydration from the breakdown that happened a few days ago. Which didn't surprise they at all.

Yuu wondered if the righteous judge himself, who is so respected and loved here, would have kicked them out of the city from the first second? Or did he still try to believe them? Remembering their dreams about the Great Seven, Yuu decided that it would be better to never meet such a person at all, because it would definitely not end well for them.

-In the name of heaven….T-that's what.. mold on the walls?! And broken glass in boarded-up windows?! Have you been living there all this time alone?!

In the piggy bank for reasons to burn down the Night Raven College,in Flamme's head, a whole wave of coins had just descended, which could not even get into the slot. He shifted his angry gaze to the photos, his expression changed to complete confusion and some compassion in his eyes as he looked at Yuu sitting peacefully in front of them.

-No. I had a cat-like beast with me that had the breath of fire. With a very… proud and arrogant character. Which I was assigned to look after all the time. We were considered one student..there's also a picture of him setting fire to the curtains to get to the ghost. He served as the magical part of the training.

No matter how much Yuu wanted to get rid of any mention of his past, some photos and facts needed to be preserved.

Exchanging glances with the President of the school board, Idiv felt that the decision was already asking for the tip of his tongue without any deliberation. But still, his many years of experience behind him suggested that it was necessary to find out some details. Frowning sternly and sternly, Oden decided to ask more questions.

-Can you tell me where you got these photos from?

A little away from a direct answer to the question, telling about getting a Ghost Camera, Yuu were able to explain that first of all they took a photo of their dorm in the first week of arrival at college. At that moment, they thought it would be funny to see how the building has changed over time. On the other hand, it was direct, indisputable, genuine proof of their treatment. Proof that Yuu decided to keep for their trump moves if the situation forces them to provide. Then they could not even think that it would become something useful and necessary for them.

-The tape recorder is a recording of all my conversations with Director Crowley. Some may not have very good sound quality…..I had to ask someone tech savvy to rewrite everything on tape.

Crowley's usually stupid assignment is to look through and listen to all the surveillance video and audio cameras to find the moment where he dropped his keys to something important.

Who would have known that even such a small thing would bring benefits for Yuu.

To ask Ortho to find all the recordings of their conversations and countless requests, there are no threats and assignments without a choice from Crowley, and to rewrite them into several copies with a cassette, a flash drive and a small microchip, was child's play for the genius of Ignihide.

-There were more than enough photos… judging by your appearance, it's hard for you to interact with the Night Raven in any way.

-Thank you for understanding, sir.

Unsure that they would ever voluntarily want to hear Crowley's voice again, Yuu mentally thanked Diretor Oden for this decision.

-Excuse me, Yuu… but what about your documents?

Feeling a mixture of shame and despair, Yuu took out a thin, battered folder from his backpack and handed it also into the hands of Director Oden. No matter how disgusting the fact that Crowley did not lift a finger to make at least minimal documents for them, after all that they had to go through.

-I don't have a birth certificate, sir. A document of education or at which school tudied…Or the student's personal file, which is started as you know when enrolling…I don't have a letter or application for enrollment… all I can provide is a report card. Mine and half of the student in charge of magic. This will be a confirmation that I really have been at the Night Raven College all this time and have been studying there. Until recently…

Clenching his hands into fists, Yuu nervously rubbed his thumb over his index finger. How pathetic they felt now, there was at least something left in history from every person, from every life they had lived. Any documents, stories or objects. And Yuu didn't even have a little official paper that they really ever existed. That they lived. That they were trying to fit in where they shouldn't have been. A nasty slippery feeling, as if a slimy worm was settling somewhere in Yuu's insides. Why were they so blind? So naive? They were pointed out so many times that it was worth fleeing from this place as quickly as possible, but they stupidly ignored every sign that shouted at them about it. They really wanted to help others, they really thought that friendship and affection had their own weight and meaning. That even Grimm and Ace and Deuce really treasured them. But it was all a blatant lie… The lie that Yuu gave away everything they had on a painted plate for the monsters that devoured them without a trace.

-Based on what you said..you left the Night Raven because you lived in terrible conditions not designed for this building and Director Crowley blackmailed you with your position, right?

-Yes, sir. I also did their errands… well… most of the time.

-You can speak freely, child. Everything you say will stay here. Rollo can you guarantee that everything you have heard will not leave the walls of this office?

-Yes, Director. Everything that was not heard by me will remain a secret.

Thinking about some agreement between them, Flamme could not help but understand that this information does not bring Yuu any harm, on the contrary, it was very advantageous no matter how they laid out their cards.

-What exactly did you have to do? You don't have to answer if you don't want to.

Looking down at the floor, Yuu hesitantly went over every moment, every event that happened in the Night Raven. They should have chosen the information more carefully, more scrupulously, no matter how much they would like to forget all this. Even if their memory was constantly failing them, even if they had to keep a diary so they wouldn't forget. Don't forget this time, and never again. So as not to lose ourselves.

-A lot, sir… facing tyranny, manipulation and blackmail in dormitories, the threat of eviction from the building that you saw earlier. Attempts of poisoning with poisons and many other things… if you will allow me, I would not like to voice out loud…

Realizing that everything turned out to be much more complicated and confusing than it might seem at first glance, Director Oden frowned even more.

-You want to know why I left this place… despite everything I went through… there was a… very… difficult conversation with Director Crowley. Related to the fact that there is a new student, much better than me.

Feeling their heart begin to squeeze as if in a blacksmith's vise, squeezing between two anvils. Yuu tried not to remember that conversation.

-The bottom line was that they found a replacement for me….a human like me was no longer needed. Although I needed them the most in those weeks….And I… have decided never to have anything to do with Night Raven College or any of their residents again..

Clutching his staff to the point of convulsions, Rollo could hardly restrain his own rage and anger. Small sparks from his magic flew over his hat like tiny lightning and flashes of flame that tried to hide in front of a fiery tornado.

He could not cope with the feelings that came over him like a snow wave from what he heard.

IF only he could have snatched Yuu from the clutches of those rotting hearts and vile hands back then! What a blind fool he had been all this time!

While waiting for a decision, sitting in the corridor next to the office, Yuu felt as if they could not catch their breath. Their panic and anxiety caught up with them again as soon as the situation slowed down at least for a while. It was worth being alone and it broke out again, as they did not try to hide it or control it. Pressing his palms to his mouth, Yuu was trying to concentrate on breathing. No one should see them in this state. It doesn't hurt them, it doesn't tear them apart from the inside. They are safe, so far away from them, why are they terrified now and ready to scream until their ligaments break? Lowering his head and biting his index finger, Yuu felt the oxygen disappear from his surroundings. Are they drowning on land?! Their ribs are squeezed so hard that they can almost hear their cracking, such a loud ugly crunch of every bone in their skeleton.

Slowly…

Are their ankles slowly enveloped by black waves of water?

No… it was ink.

Ink?! Familiar to the horror, ink… from overblott. And someone's shoes?

No. No. no. no. No.

"You cowardly ran away, ignoring all the rules of this world!"

"Just look at you… you pathetic brat."

"You have nothing to offer, you are an insignificant being"

The painfully familiar voices, heard so many times, were now reflected distorted. Too loud, too unbearable, too poisonous to try to sort out their further buzzing in the ears.

"Just a rat"

"Ugliness… and you still dare to show yourself to people?"

All of them merged into some kind of white noise along with Yuu's confused breathing.

"It was worth staying with the dead"

"You're just a toy for the entertainment of others"

-Breathe….I beg you… breathe… please…. - they tried in vain to order Yuu to their crushed mind and body.

There is no one in this world who would comfort them now.

There is no one who really cares about them.

There is no one…

No one for them…

How much more time did Yuu try to cope with the panic and screams in his head, when before their eyes clouded with horror moments when they were on the thin line of death. Each time barely grasping at some unthinkable twist of luck.

They didn't know how long they had been in this state. Gradually everything quieted down, and only a quiet wheeze from their mouths reached their ears. How their whole being ached. Inside and out, there was not a single place where at least something of their past remained.

Finally catching their breath a little, Yuu looked around devastated. Has anyone noticed their condition?

No.

Good. Yes, that's good…..they can give themselves a break. Not for long. Taking out a bottle of water left for such occasions from their backpack, Yuu greedily drank at least half of it. If no one bothers them for a couple more minutes, no one will notice what happened to them.

No questions, no condemnation of their incompetence and inability to be flexible in such situations.

They would have been ridiculed if they were in the NRC. Yes, that's right. They ridiculed me and never let me forget about it. They needed to concentrate, to put aside their deplorable state. Again.

"If they don't agree… can I go to the ghost world?" - futilely trying to pick up options, Yuu let out a doomed sigh. They won't be allowed in there. They don't have a portable dark mirror that would teleport them to any place if they wanted to.

Refusal meant a return to another not very pleasant option. RSA. There were at least two people who were connected with the NRC, which definitely led to unnecessary questions and conversations. After putting the bottle in the backpack, Yuu covered their face with their palms. All they craved now was that they could get some rest and not decide anything. Depend on no one.

They are so….tired…

****

Everything that was said earlier by Yuu confused Rollo's thoughts and feelings. It's like they were stuffed into a faulty mixer with a broken power button. To come to NBC to be as far away from the island of the sage as possible, thereby giving themselves a guarantee that they will not cross paths with those people who literally pointed Yuu to the door as soon as they were no longer needed. Enlist support, because this is a more closed college than could be found in the world…No one will come here in their right mind, without serious reasons. Get all the evidence and documents in advance so that they have a means to not challenge their words.

They thought it through from the beginning.

Every move, every action. All these intricacies.

They gave themselves an advantage and a secret move that would ensure their safety and honesty in the eyes of others. Without arousing suspicion and doubt, without giving any even a hint that they have a sharp mind and foresight. All they did or collected for this was a weighty envelope with evidence, silently resting on the director's desk. Direct evidence that Yuu, a sixteen-year-old teenager who arrived from another world. They is a victim of circumstances and people who were like a suffocating web, tightly tightening every inch of their body. Sharp heavy chains that would deprive them of all freedom and opportunities.

Unable to cope with his whirlwind of thoughts, Rollo could not admire even more the fact that Yuu….

Yuu were so far-sighted and prepared for events that could not come in a mess of probabilities. And it amazed them to a slight tremor in every cell of his body.

They should not cross the road, because even minor things that they are doing now can play a huge role for them in the upcoming events. Everything that seemed to be completely insignificant from the outside, gained enormous weight in the future for Yuu.

Feeling goosebumps running through his skin from a little childish delight, Rollo could not resist being amazed at how smart Yuu are, more than they seem at first glance.

Not only the purest soul and a kind heart, but a honed and sharp mind that was hidden from everyone.

-Director Oden….you've already decided what we can do for them, haven't you? – having asked delicately, Rollo hoped with all his heart that such a person as Yuu would not be driven away. No, they can't do that.

-It will be difficult to explain all this to the Ministry and other higher authorities of education, my dear boy.. - Oden replied thoughtfully, rubbing his chin and considering each of the options.

-But Director Oden! We can't just kick them out on the street! - Flamme already pleaded, realizing his impotence. He was already ready to ask for them, without fully understanding why.

-Take your time, Rollo….I didn't talk about driving them away. They will remain at Noble Bell College for the time being. But it will take me a few days to discuss with colleagues and the Ministry to arrange everything as necessary. And yet….

Looking at the Director with excitement, Flamme felt that there must be something else.

-You're very worried about them, Rollo. I wouldn't want to burden you with additional responsibilities, considering how hard you work. So I'm just asking, will you agree to look after Yuu when you have a free minute? You can also ask others about it when you're busy.

-Yes, sir! Thank you for your trust in me, and for your kindness!

-Well, well, I'm not heartless enough to kick a lost child out on the street. But remember, I can't promise anything for sure.

-Yes, sir… I understand..

*****

Hah, it's been a long time since I've written so much. Enjoy it!

The name of the NBC Director is the twisted name of the voicing character Archdeacon from the cartoon The Hunchback of Notre Dame

@minkyungseokie @i-dont-fooken-know @melodycelestia @fuckingfaraway @arisdelssy @you-guys-cook-like-old-people-f

@bokkito @elloitsme69 @indecisivewriting @lazythingsdiplomatchick @stupidwingboy @myeagleexpert

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (XXXII)

Chapter 32 : ‘How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! This is part 2 of The Party, we’re going through the same events, but from Y/N’s point of view!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3256

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

Watching my friend pretend her heart isn’t breaking

On Earth, just a teaspoon of neutron star would weigh six billion tons. Six billion tons equals the collective weight of every animal on earth. Including the insects. Times three.

Six billion tons sounds impossible until I consider how it is to swallow grief – just a teaspoon and one might as well have consumed a neutron star. How dense it is, how it carries inside it the memory of collapse. How difficult it is to move then. How impossible to believe that anything could lift that weight.

There are many reasons to treat each other with great tenderness. One is the sheer miracle that we are here together on a planet surrounded by dying stars. One is that we cannot see what anyone else has swallowed.

Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

It was working, you were certain of it.

Frank was stealing glances in your direction, he wasn’t being particularly discreet about it.

George was good-looking, you had to give him credit for that. Good-looking and quite funny and charming. You genuinely laughed at one of his jokes, and he took it as permission to rest his hand on your arm. Your first thought was to push him away but you didn’t. That was the point. To make Frank jealous, so he would realise that he still wanted you. So, you let George run his fingers up your arm, his touch feathery. When you looked up, you noticed that Andrew was staring, saw him turning away in a hurry, reaching for a drink…

Samantha was with him now. Your reaction surprised you, you felt the distinctive pang of jealousy echo through your ribcage.

“How do you know our couple then?” George asked.

“I’m a friend of Frank’s,” you lied. “And you?”

“A distant cousin on Samantha’s mother’s side,” he explained with a humorous smile. “Pretty happy with the connection tonight, to be honest.”

“Yeah?”

“It means I get to talk to a very pretty woman, indeed,” he answered with a charming smile.

God, you wanted to throw up at that line… You couldn’t help but lean back, your face falling a little.

Frank was staring now, you could feel his gaze on you. When you looked past George’s shoulder, you noticed that Andrew was still talking with Samantha, his back to you. Still, you only had to wait for a couple of seconds for him to glance in your direction. You felt safer all over again, knowing he was watching over you, that he would help you get out of this mess if you needed.

You noticed that Samantha was standing closer to Andrew as well, that she touched his arm and that he let her do so.

Was your plan working? Was she trying to get closer to Andrew all over again?

How much you ached at the sight…

In a flash, you pictured Andrew kissing her, touching her, and you felt nauseous all over again. Worse than George’s intentions, the image of Andrew being with her…

You noticed that George had been talking, but you hadn’t been paying attention to his words, had no idea what he was on about. You faked interest, but when he moved closer again, you took a full step back… Andrew didn’t see you doing that, he was talking with Samantha…

You were surprised when Frank’s voice suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. And indeed, Frank was now walking towards George and you, but he didn’t seem to pay you any attention. He turned to George instead, pushing you out of the conversation. You felt invisible then, you could only stare at Frank while he ignored you so completely.

If always felt like you were heard and seen whenever you were with Andrew…

“Hi! Oh, I’m such a terrible host, I don’t think we’ve met before,” he said with a polite smile. “I’m Frank.”

“George. One of Samantha’s cousins…”

“Oh, yes! Of course! How lovely to have you, thank you for coming! And on such short notice, I know everything happened kind of quickly between Sam and I.”

You clenched your jaw at his words as you were pulled right back into the whole mess of your breakup, of his rejection, of him calling off your wedding just to announce his engagement to someone else…

All this was so fucked up… and now he was talking to this guy like you weren’t even here, like you didn’t matter, like you hadn’t been together for six years…

Your eyes drifted on their own accord beyond the two men talking before you, to reach Andrew’s tall figure on the other side of the room. Would he ever behave like this towards you? Would he ever be able to do something like that to anyone?

And what were you doing, trying to make Frank jealous? You thought about all that had happened, how Frank had shattered your heart, your self-esteem, all traces of love you had been putting in your relationship. All you took for granted in this world crumbled when he left, when he cancelled your wedding. You had spent years waiting for a proposal, had accepted to remain engaged for a year and a half because he wanted to focus on his career, when he didn’t care about yours. And then he was breaking up with you like it didn’t matter, like there was nothing in your love worth fighting for. He threw it all away for a woman he had met a few weeks before… and you were trying your best to get a man like that back?!

What the fuck were you doing?!

And Andrew was standing right over there, with his ex, that asshole you dreamt of punching in the face for how poorly she had loved him and treated him at the end of their relationship. But you weren’t better, trying to slither your way back into Frank’s heart.

Was it worth it?

Was Frank really what you wanted?

You hadn’t paid much attention to Frank and George, and their casual chit-chat. You were surprised when Frank took a step closer to George, seeming almost menacing now. He said something, but his voice was too low for you to hear him. Still, it seemed to work, as George left, without sparing you a glance.

Frank finally turned to you, a smile he thought must have been charming on his lips, but you saw the syrupy side of it; how it seemed too sweet to be savoury, too good to be true.

“You’re alright, babe?”

Babe… you thought of all the times he had called you that before, and you couldn’t help it, couldn’t refrain your want to hear it again… you had thought he would spend his life calling you that.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you nodded.

“The guy seemed to be bothering you.”

“I could handle it, but thank you.”

“No worries. You know you can always count on me.”

Could you? For what? Count on him for what? Breaking your heart?

God, it was working… you couldn’t believe it was working… Frank had come running to the rescue, he was giving you the attention you had been seeking, so why were you not falling for him all over again? Why weren’t you happy about his reaction?

You glanced over at Andrew. His cheeks were flushed, you guessed partly because of the empty glass in his hand and the way he glowered at Samantha. He seemed so angry, you had never seen him like this…

What was going on?

“Thank you for coming tonight, it means a lot,” Frank said, and you forced yourself to focus on him again.

“Of course. I said I would come to the wedding, so…”

“Yeah, but… you’ve been of great help and… I’m glad we can remain friends despite everything that happened.”

Everything that happened because of you, Frank…

“Yeah…”

You should have added something about you not caring about the past, or about caring about him anyway… but you didn’t feel like it was the truth.

“Saw that you came with Andrew, too! I’m glad you two are getting along. I take it that it’s going well at work?”

“Yeah, it’s going great,” you nodded. “Andy has been of great help when I arrived, he’s explained how all the administrative stuff worked, and helped me around the campus as well. Even if I studied there, there are many places I didn’t go to as a student, and the place is a labyrinth. And my research is going great! I’ve found an interesting article that I’ve discussed with Andy, and it’s been of great help for my own work…”

“That’s nice! Sounds great!”

It sounded like an encouragement, but he was still interrupting you. He sounded supportive and yet he wasn’t listening to you, because he didn’t care.

Andrew was right. He had been right all along…

“He seems like a nice guy, that Andrew,” Frank went on, and you narrowed your eyes at the sound of his tone. It sounded casual, but you knew to recognise a bit of mockery too, something poisonous in its undertone. “A bit boring, maybe.”

You let out a breathy, humourless chuckle.

“Boring? No, Andy’s definitely not boring. He’s a little shy, but he’s great fun once you get to know him. And he’s very smart, always has interesting things to say. And he’s just… nice. Really nice.”

Frank raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You almost make him sound like a catch.”

“He is one.”

Frank didn’t seem to like that answer, you saw how he clenched his jaw. You were surprised when he moved closer though, rested a hand on your waist. And you used to like that touch, but not right now. Right now you didn’t like it at all.

“You look beautiful tonight, by the way.”

It was working. Your stupid plan was bloody working…

From the corner of your eyes you saw that Andrew was moving away from Samantha now, until he was drinking again and making a bee-line towards the exit. He walked by you, you noticed how he extended his fingers in your direction as he passed by, but he didn’t reach out. He walked out of the venue instead.

You moved away from Frank. Andrew seemed devastated and very, very drunk…

“I’d better go,” you mumbled.

“Wait, Y/N…”

“Andy doesn’t seem well, I should check on him.”

He chuckled.

“Who are you? His mother? He probably had too much to drink, that’s all.”

But he seemed to read it in your stare that there was more to it than that. He glared, but you didn’t care.

“I’ll go check on him,” was your only answer, before walking away.

You hurried after Andrew, leaving Frank behind. You didn’t look back, didn’t check his expression, didn’t try to guess if he was jealous, or considered what he was thinking. Truth was, you spotted Andrew again, staggering across a patch of grass near the parking lot, and you were too worried about him to care about anyone else.

“Andy!”

You called after him, and he spun around, tripping over his own feet. You reached out to steady him, even if you were a little too far to help. You hurried by his side, and noticed at once that he was indeed drunk. Very drunk.

“You’re okay?” you asked while you walked closer.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” but his voice was weak, almost shy. He was clearly lying, and not doing a very good job at it.

“Are you drunk?”

It was a stupid question, it was obvious that Andrew had been drinking too much. You still asked, and perhaps it was just to hear his voice again. It was soft, and kind, and warm… soothing. Filling up the air with something safe and quiet, instead of Frank’s booming tones.

“A little bit,” he admitted, averting his eyes in a sheepish way.

“Do you want me to take you home? I didn’t drink at all tonight…”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment, opening and then closing his mouth. He stared at you, gaze intense and unwavering, and yet he seemed to see more than just you in that moment. Like he was playing a scene in his head, like he was getting lost in thought, even though his thoughts were about you.

He staggered, looked away to sit in the grass.

“I think I’m… gonna stay here for a couple of minutes,” he answered, voice distant and words slurred by too much whiskey.

He seemed sad. Sad and angry. You wanted to hug him, to wrap a blanket around him and tell him everything was going to be okay. Instead, you merely sat down by his side.

“You’re okay?” you asked again, voice gentle, caring.

He seemed to lean a little closer, but didn’t reach out, he folded his arms around his legs instead. And you hated seeing him like that, you knew what he was doing. He was shrinking, trying to disappear, trying to bend to conceal how tall he was, to hide, so that no one would notice him anymore. And you hated when he did that, because there was nothing in him worth hiding…

“Aren’t you supposed to be with Frank?” he asked, voice strained with pain, and you didn’t quite know what to do with that sound aimed at you.

Was he sad because of Samantha, or because of Frank? Perhaps both…

“You didn’t seem well,” you explained.

“I’m fine. This is your chance, it was working…”

You clenched your jaw, looked away. Andrew was right, it was working. Frank was being jealous, he was giving you the attention you had craved for… you could have used that opportunity to make him see how crazy it was for him to leave you for Samantha, and then to decide to get married after only a couple of months, to rush this wedding…

But you didn’t want to. Because Frank was never paying attention to you. This was another proof. It was all about him, and not about you. And there was Andrew, who was obviously in pain, obviously angry and sad and drunk, and… and he was still thinking about you.

You were a fucking fool, for still wanting Frank or… or rather, for convincing yourself that you still wanted him. Andrew was right, Frank was a fucking prick. And you deserved better than him.

“I’d rather stay with you for a while,” you breathed, something pained and aching in your voice.

Andrew’s gaze hardened, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. That his burst of anger that made his eyes darker than usual was not your doing. You took a moment to stare at him, to study his features bathed in the dim lights of the evening, a mix of orange streetlights, of silver moonlight, of white neon lights from the venue. He looked so handsome, despite his tiredness, despite his sorrow…

“I saw you talking with Samantha? What did she say?” you asked, changing subject, trying not to think of how much you wanted to run your fingers through his untamed curls, brush your fingertips across his cheekbone…

You saw him clenching his jaw and immediately regretted your question. But he seemed in so much pain, you insisted, asked again.

“What did she say?”

He shrugged. You didn’t mean to push him, but this was important. You knew he wanted to talk about it, you could read it in his eyes.

“She cheated on me with Frank.”

Your eyes grew round, you were too stunned for a moment.

The fucking bitch… she had cheated on Andrew?! What was wrong with this woman?! Was it really so hard to end things before moving on? How could she hurt him like that… God, you wanted to punch her straight in the face.

“He didn’t cheat on you,” Andrew hurried to add, and you guessed he wanted to reassure you, but the truth was, you hadn’t even thought of Frank, of the possibility of him cheating, you had to admit you didn’t care about it at all, you were too infuriated by Samantha. “It happened right after he broke up with you, but she hadn’t broken up with me yet… so technically…”

“What a fucking bitch…” you spat, and he was visibly surprised by the harshness of your words, so much so that he giggled.

“Yeah, you can say that.”

“I’m so sorry, Andy,” you breathed, reaching to rub his back.

“It’s okay. I just… I just want to forget her now.”

You nodded but looked away. You should be doing the same. Especially after tonight… but a part of you still wanted this life you had built for yourself. You realised then that you didn’t even want Frank, you wanted the life he had taken from you. You were not ready to grieve that part yet…

Why couldn’t you just… move on?

“So… I’m losing my partner in crime?” you joked, but there was something strained in your voice.

“I’ll still help you with Frank, that’s alright. If… if that’s what makes you happy…”

What would make you happy… You didn’t know what could make you happy now. You were too lost for that. Your past was haunting you too much for you to yield in your impulsive thought now, the one that could make you feel something. So, you just stared at Andrew’s lips for a moment, caught in a stillness you couldn’t free yourself from. You leaned closer, rested your head on his shoulder. He didn’t move away, let you rest your weight on him, like an anchor, something you could rely on. Better yet, he reached out, extended his arm until you were wrapped into his embrace, and he pulled you closer, gently, like he was afraid you would pull away if he let on how much he wanted to have you close. He didn’t seem to know how much you wanted him to hold you. And for a while, you bathed into his warmth, into the feeling of his hand on your arm, into his scent, into the soothing rhythm of his breathing. You felt so safe in his arms, sheltered, and you realised then that there had been few people with whom you could feel so safe, so free. You weren’t nervous about being vulnerable in front of him, you trusted him not to mock or dismiss your fragility. You trusted him to stay and listen, you trusted him not to hurt you. You trusted him not to leave you, not tonight, at least...

You tried to remember a time when you saw Frank this way, a safe haven. At the beginning, maybe. A little. That wasn’t fully true, though. You had always been worried that he would get bored, and leave…

“Let’s get you home, Andy,” you broke the comfortable silence that had settled around you, broke his embrace to get up. You offered him your hand and helped him up, let him lean on you while you walked to your car.

And you wanted to tell him about Frank, about how you weren’t so sure you wanted him anymore, and especially, about how you thought of him all the time. How you didn’t long to see Frank these days, but you couldn’t wait to go to work because then you would see Andrew. About how you had never been able to talk about what truly interested you with Frank, you realised that now… now that you could talk about all of it for hours with Andrew. How you wanted to hold his hand, and tug his hair behind his ear, and kiss his cheek, and kiss his lips. How you dreamt of him sometimes, which sounded crazy, but it was true. How you dreamt of him touching you, of him holding you, of him loving you. And you wanted to tell Andrew that you longed to forget about your exes, but you weren’t sure to be ready to admit the feelings you had for him, because then it would make you vulnerable in front of a man all over again, and considering how it had ended with Frank, you weren’t certain you wanted that once more…

God, you wanted him. You wanted to kiss him now, in the streetlights, even if he was drunk. But you were afraid, and so you didn’t.

[louisupdates]

tcdlawsoc WELCOME WELCOME WELCOME 💘💘

LawSoc is backkkkk.

We know you're all buzzing to see what events are coming this year!

Here's a quick preview of a few events we have on the books!

We have a jam packed year ahead, full of speakers, competitions and some of the best nights out on campus 🕺

LawSoc has something for everyone, so be sure to keep an eye on our socials for all our fantastic Freshers events and much much more…

We can’t wait to welcome you all back to campus along with all our new Freshers!

You can sign-up to be a member for the 23/24 college year through the link in our bio. 🦋

Live, laugh lawve,

90 x

[Louis will be a guest at a Trinity College (Dublin, Ireland) Law Soc event this coming year! Posted to Instagram 12.9.2023]

[mariana-oconnor]

The Missing Three-Quarter pt 1

We were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams at Baker Street, but I have a particular recollection of one which reached us on a gloomy February morning some seven or eight years ago...

OK, so obviously my first question - in spite of knowing that time is made up in these stories and attempting to pin them down is an exercise in madness - is what year was this story published. Google provides: 1904. So we're supposedly looking at 1896-7.

Not that that means anything.

“Please await me. Terrible misfortune. Right wing three-quarter missing; indispensable to-morrow. — Overton.”

I mean if you're missing three quarters of your right wing, that does sound like a terrible misfortune, but I am interested in how a bird managed to send a telegram. Perhaps it is the trained cormorant! Or one of the canaries.

Despite being British and my brother having played it at school (and numerous other things about my life which mean I should know), the rules and terminology of rugby are completely beyond me. It is a massive gap in my knowledge that I have no real desire to fill in. I know William Webb Ellis and that there's League and Union, something something scrum, score a try, six nations. There. That's all I know.

But according to the post script in the last email, this is about Rugby, so I must assume that Right Wing three quarter refers to a playing position and that tomorrow there is a rugby game.

For years I had gradually weaned him from that drug mania which had threatened once to check his remarkable career. Now I knew that under ordinary conditions he no longer craved for this artificial stimulus, but I was well aware that the fiend was not dead, but sleeping; and I have known that the sleep was a light one and the waking near when in periods of idleness I have seen the drawn look upon Holmes's ascetic face, and the brooding of his deep-set and inscrutable eyes.

This is honestly a really interesting and serious discussion of drug addiction. We've had a few comments from Watson about it before, but never to this extent, I don't think. And the actual discussion of how he's been slowly getting Sherlock clean over the years. But the acknowledgement that it's always there, waiting. And it's always preying on Watson's mind, too.

Mr. Cyril Overton, of Trinity College, Cambridge

Of course he's from a Cambridge college and worrying about a rugby game. The only way this could be more Oxbridge is if it were the boat race he was worrying about.

Do you think it's an Oxbridge match or an intercollegiate one?

“I've been down to Scotland Yard, Mr. Holmes. I saw Inspector Stanley Hopkins. He advised me to come to you. He said the case, so far as he could see, was more in your line than in that of the regular police.”

Glad to see the police really care about missing people. Although 'university rugby player wandered off' isn't really that unusual in my experience. After a rugby social night you'd trip over them in the weirdest places. After the medical students, they probably had the most intense events.

"Whether it's passing, or tackling, or dribbling, there's no one to touch him..."

Do you dribble in rugby? I genuinely thought that was a football term.

(According to the All Blacks apparently you do... weird. I do not understand this game at all)

"Why, Morton or Johnson, the Oxford fliers, could romp round him."

Ah, it's an Oxbridge match. No wonder he's so put out about it.

“There is Arthur H. Staunton, the rising young forger,” said he, “and there was Henry Staunton, whom I helped to hang, but Godfrey Staunton is a new name to me.”

Just let me look in my book of people. Oh yes, he's not the one I had hanged... nope, don't know him. This is so funny to me.

“I suppose, then, if you have never heard of Godfrey Staunton you don't know Cyril Overton either?”

His utter astonishment at Holmes not knowing about rugby is sweet and also hilarious. Also kind of arrogant, but I was expecting that.

...with many repetitions and obscurities which I may omit from his narrative, he laid his strange story before us.

Thank you, Watson.

"Half an hour later the porter tells me that a rough-looking man with a beard called with a note for Godfrey. [...] Godfrey read it and fell back in a chair as if he had been pole-axed. [...] Then he went downstairs, said a few words to the man who was waiting in the hall, and the two of them went off together. The last that the porter saw of them, they were almost running down the street in the direction of the Strand."

Oooh... long lost relative? But what's in the letter? Does Godfrey have a secret past? Is the bearded man a colonel? Has he trained some birds to do crimes? But if he had trained birds to do crimes, surely he could also train them to deliver messages without needing porters.

Even with Watson editing this down, the tone, pace and wording still convey Cyril's personality perfectly. Excellent character work. Chef's kiss.

“I wired to Lord Mount-James.” “Why to Lord Mount-James?” “Godfrey is an orphan, and Lord Mount-James is his nearest relative—his uncle, I believe.”

Ding-ding, we have some more evidence for long lost relative. Maybe crawling out of the woodwork to get money? If Godfrey is related to a Lord, that would make sense.

"Lord Mount-James is one of the richest men in England.”

Yep, there is definitely going to be at least an indication that money is involved. Although it may turn out to be one of those stories where that is a red herring.

“Yes, he was his heir, and the old boy is nearly eighty—cram full of gout, too. They say he could chalk his billiard-cue with his knuckles. He never allowed Godfrey a shilling in his life, for he is an absolute miser, but it will all come to him right enough.”

They are really building up the money motive. Makes me think it won't be that straightforward.

He was simply what the porter described as a “medium-looking chap”

Watson, king of describing people, faced with an ordinary person. You can feel the exasperation.

“It is a pity he did not write in pencil,” said he, throwing them down again with a shrug of disappointment. “As you have no doubt frequently observed, Watson, the impression usually goes through—a fact which has dissolved many a happy marriage. However, I can find no trace here. I rejoice, however, to perceive that he wrote with a broad-pointed quill pen, and I can hardly doubt that we will find some impression upon this blotting-pad."

Proper old school detective work going on. Blotting paper. Does anyone in the world still use blotting paper, I wonder. I spent my childhood reading Enid Blyton and Agatha Christie and wondering what it even was.

"But I dare say it may have come to your notice that if you walk into a post-office and demand to see the counterfoil of another man's message there may be some disinclination on the part of the officials to oblige you. There is so much red tape in these matters! However, I have no doubt that with a little delicacy and finesse the end may be attained."

How dare they protect people's privacy in that way! How dare!

Honestly, I find this kind of reassuring. I may have assumed that there was no security about these things at all in the Victorian era. Weird when you find something that they did better back then. By 'delicacy and finesse' does he mean 'bribery'? So... maybe not any better really.

...we looked up to find a queer little old man, jerking and twitching in the doorway. He was dressed in rusty black, with a very broad brimmed top-hat and a loose white necktie—the whole effect being that of a very rustic parson or of an undertaker's mute. Yet, in spite of his shabby and even absurd appearance, his voice had a sharp crackle, and his manner a quick intensity which commanded attention.

See, Mr Day-porter, this is how you describe a person.

"If he has any expectations it is due to the fact that I have never wasted money, and I do not propose to begin to do so now. As to those papers with which you are making so free, I may tell you that in case there should be anything of any value among them you will be held strictly to account for what you do with them.”

Huge Scrooge McDuck vibes from this guy.

“Heavens, sir, what an idea! I never thought of such villainy! What inhuman rogues there are in the world! But Godfrey is a fine lad—a staunch lad. Nothing would induce him to give his old uncle away."

Dude, hate to say it, but if you were my uncle I would absolutely give you away. In a heartbeat. I would be telling them every piece of information I knew about you so fast they'd have burgled your house before you could blink. Unless they showed me their faces, then I'd use the information as leverage to get away.

But you seem like such a great guy, I'm sure Godfrey wants to protect you with his life.

Totally.

"You must admit that it is curious and suggestive that this incident should occur on the eve of this important match, and should involve the only man whose presence seems essential to the success of the side."

I mean, if he hadn't gone off on his own accord, I'd definitely support the argument 'Oxford kidnapped him'. Makes perfect sense.

OH... Holmes meant people who had bet on the game.

My best bet currently is that he got news (real or false) about someone he cares about and left to try to help them. That would also explain the 'us'.

[saintsenara]

14 and 26??

thank you very much for the ask from the i'm not from the states ask game, anon!

14. do you enjoy your country’s cinema and/or tv?

26. does your nationality get portrayed in hollywood/american media? what do you think about the portrayal?

now - i think these two have to be taken together...

so, yes, i do enjoy our media - we have obviously produced the finest comedy television show in recent history, after all.

but i do think that media made in ireland - or, at least, made in ireland in english - suffers from the fact that it's aiming to be marketable outside of ireland. and - in particular - that it's aiming to be marketable in both britain and the united states.

which means that it takes an interest in portraying an image of irishness which is appealing to those countries.

when it comes to the states, the way we are portrayed and the way we portray ourselves is always aiming to tap into a view of ireland which dominates the american national consciousness - as a country which americans, especially on the east coast, consider themselves enormously culturally aligned to and politically sympathetic with, due to the sheer size of the irish-american community.

let's get the cards on the table - being irish-american is a meaningful cultural identity within the united states. it is not - and it never, ever will be - the same as actually being irish [which someone ought to tell the president...]. and one reason is because the centrality of emigration to the irish-american identity requires ireland to become a quasi-mystical place, preserved in aspic at the point mass emigration to the states really took off.

that's why you end up with the portrayal of ireland you see in films like the banshees of inisherin - quaint, rural, full of half-wit musical drunkards who love a wee chat, surrounded by historical events but also sort of outside them...

in britain, the geographical proximity, the easier movement across boarders, and the fact that these enable diaspora communities to retain closer links with ireland [one of the single most amusing activities in the world is watching irish-americans learn that vast numbers of brits have more recent irish heritage than they do...] means that ireland is treated less like a magical fantasy land unchanged from ages past.

but it's nonetheless affected by the brits' own stereotypical view of the country - that the rural south is full of superstitious, unsophisticated idiots [who sometimes get to have hearts of gold!] who've never seen pesto; that the urban south is generally indistinguishable from london; and that the north is full of grey housing estates interspersed with burned-out cars and everyone is a terrorist.

again and again it seems that the only way to get funding for a project about ireland is to pick one of the famine, the war of independence, or the troubles as your setting. there's so little representation of what ireland looks like in the here-and-now - not least in the fact that you'd get the impression from its international film and television that it's a country where everyone is white...

and even media which is set in contemporary ireland and which does make an effort to be more diverse - such as the tv adaptation of normal people - presents an ireland designed for international consumption [trinity college dublin does run itself very much like oxford and cambridge in real life - but this is turned up to eleven in normal people in a way which is clearly aimed at the british audience...].

which is something i'd like to see us get a grip on, tbh.

[buttacake80]

I am not sure if I mentioned this, but I attended graduate school in Ireland.

I attended Trinity College, Dublin, where I finished my Master's degree in Race, Ethnicity and Conflict Studies within the Sociology Department.

Our program was created to study the decades-long conflicts in Northern Ireland, Palestine, and Congo. Our focus was on migrants and refugees who fled war zones, then tracked how they integrated into their host country.

I wrote my dissertation on Black American participation in the Tea Party movement. However, as I attended Tea Party events around the Midwest (Illinois & Indiana), I met A LOT of angry, resentful white men who flocked to me with grievances.

During my research, I observed the genesis of the white Christian Nationalism movement.

This was all the way back in 2010-2012.

My dissertation is entitled: Jesus and the White Man.

I plan on editing it and adding new chapters as I continued to study the development of this movement after 2012.

I am not surprised we are at this point.