#because there’s nothing I dislike more than a nosy person being up in my business for no good reason

[the-gotheltic-rowan]

idk if it’s the mental illness but sharing literally any information feels like oversharing. i’ll be like “i skipped breakfast this morning” and immediately im like “i might as well have told them where i buried the money”

[desiredmalfoy]

Sometimes Its Too Late (Past Fred x Reader)

House: For the reader to decide

Pairings: Past Fred x Reader , Draco x Reader

Universe: Not canon!

Warning: Talks about cheating (it’s not okay) and some mild bad words. 

Word Count: 4.3k

Part 3 of the Dear Malfoy Series [Part 1] [Part 2]

So I did a little history to how Draco and the reader know each other. Just to add a bit to the story. This is not edited! I apologize but it was an 11 page doc and I was just excited to post.

Your new friendship with Draco Malfoy was complicated. She had known him from previous events she was forced to accompany her parents to. Her dad was the Head of Magical Games and Sports. His work often required him to interact with other top ministry officials, including Lucius Malfoy. But they weren’t close to the Malfoys, nowhere near it. Her family’s ideology differed greatly from that of the Malfoy’s. So most of her interactions with Draco were a smile and a nod at the events they both were forced to go. Draco had always been a very private person who tended to enjoy his own company. That only increased during her first year when she immediately became friends with Harry, Ron & Hermione. It seemed to (y/n) that Draco was hurt about Harry rejecting his offer of friendship and wanted to make his years at Hogwarts miserable. The Golden Trio quickly became the three people that Draco could not stand. He was never mean to her the same way he tortured the other three. He made snarky remarks to her on occasions but she could deal with them. Which is why she tended to ignore him at all costs. To her, it was better to not give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. They had never been on the best terms because of his treatment of her friends. This is why his newfound kindness made (y/n) dwell on his true intentions.  

While she had dinner with Draco, he extended the offer for any other meal. She had actually enjoyed the company of the Slytherin Prince for dinner. They made small talk about their classes. It didn’t go unnoticed to either of them that not only were her friends looking at her, but others around the hall were too. Probably gossiping about how Draco Malfoy and (Y/N) (Y/L/N) Harry Potter’s Friend were sitting together. The feud and mutual dislike the two boys had between each other was greatly known to everyone at the school. She knew they were going to definitely be the talk of the school. 

“Thank you so much for letting me sit with you Draco”, (y/n) said as she started to get up to make her way out there.

“It’s not a problem”, he answered simply as he too got up from his spot. “Let me walk out with you. I don’t they’ll follow you if they see you with me.”

She simply nodded at him and started to make her way out of the hall. She couldn’t bring herself to look back where she knew her friends were looking at her. They had been constantly looking toward her most of the evening. She just wanted this day to be over. They ended up walking to her common room in peaceful silence. 

“You know we’ll be all they’ll be talking about”, she said out of nowhere. 

“You know the people here can’t avoid good gossip”, Draco responded. “Everyone here is always so bloody interested in the life of others because they have nothing going for them.”

“Bloody pathetic if you ask me.”

(Y/N) let out a small laugh at his comments. “I can agree with that.”

Draco only laughed lightly while nodding at her. If you would’ve told her she would actually be having a civil conversation with Malfoy, she would’ve laughed right in your face. Because of how ridiculous that sounded, bloody hell it would’ve sounded ridiculous just yesterday morning. 

----

(Y/N) thought she had done a pretty good job at avoiding her friends for the past couple of days. During meals, she’d sit with Draco. Sometimes his friends would join them. Blaise Zabini being surprisingly pleasant company to her while Pansy Parkinson wasn’t the nicest. But that’s something she already knew. She made small snide remarks to her but she would always shut her mouth when Draco would send her a glare. Luckily she only had to deal with Parkinson during the meals she would show up to. 

By now the school had known that she and Fred were over. That and her new “blooming” friendship with Draco was all others could talk about. Some students guessed that she had dumped Fred for Draco. She had overheard Lavender Brown talking with Parvati Patil about how you were the one who had cheated on Fred with Draco.  

“She got caught snogging Malfoy in an empty classroom by some second-year student.” 

“Merlin, she's so pathetic. She really left Fred for that snake.”

“I know! I mean what can you expect from her type…”

She shut her mouth real quick when she noticed you were listening to their remarks. But not only were you ready to confront them; you also didn’t notice Draco standing a few feet behind you sending the girls a glare. Their odds of coming out of this unharmed were not looking good at all. Lavender grabbed Parvati’s hand and quickly made their way down the hallway. 

You wished people would just mind their damn business. She should’ve just stayed in her dorm but she had a big test coming up.

With a big Transfiguration test upcoming, there was no avoiding the fact that (y/n) needed to go study at the library. There was no way she was going to fail this test. Screw Fred Weasley. (Y/N) clutched her books tightly and kept walking toward the library. She was still thinking about the comments made by the two girls when she ran into Angelina Johnson down the hall with a few other quidditch players, including Fred and George. They were laughing and he looked like nothing had happened or that it had really affected him at all. 

She had to walk past them in order to get to the library and she knew this wasn’t going to be pretty. Just looking at him so carefree made her want to burst into tears right in the hallway. You couldn’t get more pathetic than her. Crying over a boy who doesn’t even care about you. She tried her best to just walk past them as if she hadn’t just been staring at them from down the hallway. She had finally made it past them when she closed her eyes for a couple of seconds to try and regain her composure and hopefully get rid of this horrible headache she was feeling. She heard someone call her name from behind her. 

“Fancy seeing you around these halls”, George said to her as she turned around to face him. “I don’t see your new friends nearby.”

“Who”, she questioned him. She obviously knew who he was talking about but wanted to play dumb to his comments.

“Malfoy, Zabini, and Parkinson”, he answered. “I never really took you as the type to be their friend.”

“First of all, Pansy is definitely not my friend”, you responded with an eye roll. “I don’t know what to truly call Draco and Blaise.”

“Oh? You’re on first name bases now”, George responded with an eyebrow raise. 

“Well maybe if my real friends had told me my boyfriend was cheating on me then I would actually talk to them.”

People were starting to stare at you in the hallway, interested in what was being said between the two of you. Fred and Angelina were a bit behind George watching on tensely. 

“Look, I’m sorry abo-”

“No, if you were really my friend you would’ve said something. It doesn’t matter if he was your brother.”

“So you don’t get to come to me and try to judge me on who I talk to.”

Before George can say another word someone behind him spoke up. You thought it was the coward of your ex but instead it was his new girlfriend. 

“Can we please speak somewhere else”, Angelina said behind him. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the girl who had caused their pathetic love triangle. Can’t be in a love triangle if you’ve already been dumped.

“I really don’t want to talk to you and I definitely don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

“I just really need to tell you that we didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh really”, you answered mockingly. She probably sounded immature but you weren’t looking to be the bigger person anymore. “You two sure have a funny way of showing that.”

“Look, I’m sorry for hurting you. But things just happen sometimes.”

“Really? Because I could think of many ways this could’ve ended better”, (y/n) sneered with an eye roll.

They all stayed quiet, letting you keep on on speaking.

“But you know what’s funny? You knew we were dating and you went along with it. That just shows how pathetic you truly are.”

Before Angelina could answer her back with her own remark, two familiar faces walked through the group of students who had formed around them.

“What’s going on here”, Hermione questioned you and Angelina who were now standing face to face. 

“Nothing Granger”, Angelina said with an eye roll as she still looked at you. She looked between you and the girls before making her way out of the crowd of people. Fred followed right behind her while George kept looking between the two of you before following them out. The group of onlookers started to finally walk away from the situation leaving her with Hermione and Ginny.

Why can’t she catch a break? Merlin why is she being punished? 

“Don’t you dare run away from us (y/n) (y/l/n)”, Hermione said as she stood firmly in front of her. Ginny right next to Hermione, in an attempt to block her way. Hermione really sounded like her mother sometimes.

“We want to talk to you,” Ginny said as she gently reached for (y/n) hand. “But not here, too many nosy gits here.”

“Let’s go to my dorm”, Hermione suggested as one of the many perks of being a prefect was her own dorm. At this point (y/n) had yet to say a word to them but let them drag her to Hermione’s room. The walk to the dorm was pretty quiet, knowing that if she spoke right now she would more than likely burst into tears. Walking into the dorm, she took her usual spot on the end of the bed. 

“What happened between you and Fred”, Hermione questioned you as she sat next to you.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“He told us you broke up. But that’s all really”, Ginny answered as she wrapped her arms around (y/n)’s shoulders.

“Did he tell you we broke up because I caught him with Angelina Johnson in his dorm”, (y/n) said as she felt the tears starting to come out. 

“Is that why you were speaking to her in the hallway?”

“Are you serious”, Hermione exclaimed. “He did not mention that part! What a prat!”

“Oh, I am definitely going to go find him and hex him now.”

“Ginny! Wait a second”, (y/n) called after her friend and grabbed her hand before she went too far.

“I can’t believe I forgot you! Of course you should hex him too! Let’s go (y/n), we got to find him before curfew. Hermione can be our alibi.”

“No, I don’t want you to get in any trouble.”

“Don’t worry, mum isn’t going to be mad when she finds out why we hexed him. Mum would probably send him a howler giving him an earful.”

“As much as I would love to also hex Fred Weasley, we can’t Ginny”, Hermione stated sternly at the girls. She then turned to you and placed her hands on your shoulders. “What I want to know is what were you doing with Draco Malfoy!”

“He offered me a seat with him. I didn’t want to sit at my usual spot because I didn’t want to make things awkward. It just kind of went from there and I just kept sitting with him”

“Awkward how”, Ginny questioned you.

“Well, he’s your brother and I thought you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore if you saw we broke up. I thought being there would make things worse.”

“It doesn’t matter that he’s my brother. He’s the one in the wrong here and it doesn’t change the fact that you’re our friend.”

“That’s true (y/n)! We love you and care about you. Please don’t ignore us. But that still doesn’t explain Malfoy.”

“Well, he found me at the astronomy tower crying after it had happened. We talked and he wasn’t a complete git to me.”

“Are we talking about the same Draco? Draco Malfoy?”

“Yes”, (y/n) said with a small laugh. Feeling the relief of having her friends by her side. 

“Maybe he hit his head and forgot how much of a prat he is?”

This only caused the three of them to burst into laughter. It was good to have her friends with her again.

-------

The gray sky was a reflection of every thought storming in her brain. 

She didn’t really want to be at this quidditch match at all but Ginny and Hermione had convinced her to come out. She knew it had been three weeks since she found Angelina and George in his dorm but that type of pain doesn’t just disappear. She had been sitting in the quartyard with Draco earlier in the day, when she had mentioned coming to the game with Ginny and Hermione. She knew it was a long shot but she decided to invite him.

“Have you lost it”, he answered teasingly. “Why would I go to a quidditch game and sit in the Gryffindor section?”

“Why not”, she asked him with a pout.

“Because I don’t have a death wish (y/n). Plus if I don’t exactly want to go out in the hands of some Gryffindor.”

“You’re so dramatic Draco”, (y/n) laughed at his usual antics. Getting to know him more and more made her realize he wasn’t all that bad. “I forgot the Slytherin Prince can’t be anywhere near there.”

She only agreed to come to this blasted game only because she was dragged here by Hermione. Luna had joined them along for the game. She was honestly only here to cheer for Ginny if she was being honest. She had been watching quidditch for years but she still was confused on what was even going on. She simply cheered for Ginny or when the rest of the section went crazy. The game went by quickly with Hufflepuff in the lead but soon Gryffindor caught up and completely dominated the game. It wasn’t long before Harry had caught the golden snitch on his grasp. He lifted it up triumphantly in the air. As everyone was celebrating the big win for Gryffindor against Hufflepuff, the teams came back on the ground.

That’s when Fred kissed Angelina. He kissed her in front of everyone. 

Y/N could feel the pity glances being thrown her way. She felt dozens of eyes on her, awaiting her reaction to the scene unfolding before her. She could feel her chest tighten as she tried to maintain her composure. She made eye contact with Hermione who was looking at her with sympathy pity in her eyes. Y/N looked away from Hermione and turned her attention to the dull gray sky. 

“Are you alright”, Luna questioned next to her. Luna’s soft touch on her shoulder brought her back to reality. She had forgotten she was even next to Luna. 

“Yeah”, (y/n) breathed out. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

“Heartbreak takes time to heal. It’s okay to still be hurt”, Luna whispered to her as she gave her hand a small squeeze. 

“Thank you Luna”, she responded with a small smile. It didn’t exactly make her feel better but she was glad she cared for her. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.”

She didn’t give much time for Luna to respond before she made a quick exit out of the Gryffindor section. She needed to get away from here. She walked and kept on walking before she ended up in a random hallway in the castle. She didn’t even know where she was. 

Just then (y/n) slid down and sat against the wall of the hall. She started to cry at what she had witnessed on the quidditch pitch. She shouldn’t even be crying over someone not worth her tears. She hated that she still felt hurt over Fred. The betrayal of someone she loved and trusted still burned deep in her chest. She should be over him, she should not even care what he does. 

(Y/N) hated that they could just flaunt their relationship like it was nothing. Like if she wasn’t the collateral damage of them. She hated the pity looks she got from others. Everyone knew by now what had happened...that she wasn’t good enough to be loved by him. 

She heard footsteps come her way. She tried to wipe away her tears, not trying to be caught like this. She probably looked so bloody pathetic right now. When she looked up from the floor, she saw it was Draco. He shows up at the most convenient times. 

“What’s wrong”, Draco said as he made his way toward her. Once he was in front of her, he knelt down to be able to speak to her at eye level.

“I hate him”, (y/n) said simply. “I hate that he could do all that to me and just move on like nothing.” 

Draco looked into her (y/e/c) eyes waiting for her to continue. 

“He kissed her in front of everyone after the game.”

“I hate all the pity looks from everyone in this school.” 

“He’s a git that never deserved you”, Draco said to her as he offered her a hand to get off from the floor. (Y/N) looked at his hand and accepted the gesture from him. He helped her stand up from the worn out floor.

“Thank you for being here for me this past few weeks”, (y/n) said as she looked up at him. “You’ve surprised me Malfoy.”

“Gee..thanks (y/l/n)”, Draco responded with a playful eye roll. 

“I know we never were really friends, but you’ve been here for me and I really appreciate it.”

“Oh, so we’re definitely friends now”, Draco jokes with an eyebrow raise.

“Hey! I take back my friendship then Malfoy”, you laughed as you playfully smack his arm.

“You’re not allowed to take it back”, he said with a smile. 

Before she knew it, Draco had engulfed her in a hug. He snaked his arms tightly around her figure. (Y/N) wrapped her hands around Draco’s waist as she buried her head into his chest. She could feel Draco stroke her hair gently. 

Lost in the comfort of Draco’s arms, (y/n) ignored the world around her. All she could concentrate on was his soft touch and how he smelled like expensive cologne, green apples, and mint. 

What she failed to realize was that a few seconds after, Fred and George entered the same hallway. 

But Draco did notice this. 

They stopped for a couple of seconds to look at them. Draco noticed that Fred’s glare lingered on them as George continued to walk away pulling his brother along. He could only throw his signature Malfoy smirk. 

------

The more time you spent with Draco the harder you fell for him. And it scared you a lot. Last time you fell this hard for someone was when you were dating Fred. You didn’t want to get your heart broken again but you were definitely head over heels for him. You felt butterflies in your stomach every time he looked at you or when he would laugh at your silly jokes. He was even trying (like really really trying) to be nicer to your friends. He was more civil with Hermione and Ginny but still a little hesitant with Ron and Harry. At least the three of them weren’t trying to constantly hex each other anymore. Ginny had even once gone as far as to joke with you that if all it took for him to be nice was to be around you, she herself would’ve set you up with him. Although she and Ron had a running theory that Draco was replaced by someone nicer, something that you could only laugh at when mentioned.

Hermione and Ginny were convinced that he had a crush on you as well. But you were still afraid that those feelings weren’t mutual. What you didn’t see were the glances he always gave you when you didn’t sit with him during meals. You had come up with the solution to sit for breakfast with Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Harry. While during dinner you sat with Draco and Blaise. You were oblivious to the fact that he also felt the same butterflies in his stomach when he spoke to you. Or how he was internally freaking out when you grabbed his hand while the two of you ran to herbology to prevent from being late to class. You thought it was just a friendly gesture for him to help you everyday with potions because of how bad you were at it. But everyone else knew that Draco wouldn’t just help anyone.

The closer you got to Draco the more you fell for him. And the farthest Fred drifted from your mind. Soon, he became nothing more than just another student at Hogwarts to you.

------

The Yule Ball was approaching quickly. Bringing a lot of bitter sweet thoughts to you. It was about to be a year since Fred had asked you to be his date and later his girlfriend. The dance was only a week away and you had yet to find a date. Going solo wouldn’t be so bad but having a date would be more ideal. 

It was Saturday, just like every other Saturday since she got to Hogwarts, she sat under her favorite tree near the Black Lake with her current book. She was currently reading a book about a tragic love story between two star crossed lovers. She was a sucker for these types of books.

Engrossed in her book, she didn’t notice Fred come to her until he cleared his throat. If she never had to speak to Fred Weasley another day in her life, she would have been nothing but happy about it. Well sometimes you don’t always get what you would like. 

“What do you want Weasley”, she sneered at her ex. “I was enjoying my time alone.”

“Look I’m not here to argue. I want to talk civilly with you”, Fred said pleadingly. He looked at her with the same stare he had the night she had caught them.

“Then talk”, you answered with a shoulder shrug. You put your book down and stood up so that you were face to face with him.

“I’m so sorry for all the hurt I caused you. I really am (y/n). I regret it so much.”

“A little late with that apology Weasley.”

“I know but I miss you (y/n). I miss you everything about you. I was so confused and I let it get the best of me. But I realize now that it’s always been you.”

“Look Fred, I do-”, you spoke before he quickly cut you off. He was closing the gap in between the two of you. She could feel his intense gaze on her even though she was looking out towards the lake. 

“I mean it darling. I miss you and I need you back.” He placed one of his hand on her upper arm and the other on her cheek. 

“No Fred! You don’t just get to waltz back into my life after breaking my heart.” You said as you removed his hand from your cheek. 

“I’m really sorr-”

“You don’t just get to put me on the sideline until you decide if you actually loved me or her. I deserve much more than that.”

“I’m not going to stand by like some idiot waiting for you to come back to me. I maybe would’ve been stupid to take you back before, but not anymore.”

“We can work through it”, he tried to plead with her. “I will do anything to gain your trust back.”

“It’s too late for that Fred”, she said simply as she grabbed his other hand to remove it from her upper shoulder.

“Let go of my girlfriend”, Draco's voice boomed as he made his way toward them. Both she and Fred turned to the blonde making his way angrily toward them. Fred’s grasp was still firm on her arm. 

“I said let go Weaslebee”, Draco snapped as he pulled his hand away from your arm. Once Fred’s hold on her was gone, Draco pulled her behind him.

“Girlfriend? Are you seriously going out with Malfoy”, Fred asked you with shock all over his face. He looked at you hoping that you would tell him that Draco was lying.

“Yes, he’s my boyfriend”, you answered him while looking up at Draco. Your hand now firmly around his bicep.  

“Are you serious (y/n)?” He asked once again, praying you’d say that it was all a joke.

“I am Fred. I meant it when I said we were over for good.”

Without saying anything anymore, he walked away from the two of you. He was clearly heartbroken but you really didn’t care anymore. Maybe now he’ll know how you felt. You turned again to look at Draco who was looking down at you with a silly grin on his face. “You know you never asked me to be your girlfriend.”

“Sorry about that. I saw you talking to him and that’s the first thing that came to mind.” You could see the pink starting to tint his porcelain skin. 

“Well, I’m not saying I am opposed to it. But you should definitely take me on a date before.”

A genuine smile, that you had grown to completely adore, grew on his face. “Well, how does the Yule Ball sound? I promise I had a better way planned to ask you.”

“When were you planning on doing that”, you questioned him. “The dance is only a few days away. Someone could’ve totally swept me off my feet and asked me?”

“Not really, not after I had Goyle and Crabbe stop anyone thinking about asking you”, he joked. Well you hoped he was joking because knowing him…

“You’re something else Malfoy.”

“But you like me.”

“Yeah, I guess I actually really do like you.”

Unknown to you, that was the very moment Fred had realized he had totally screwed up and truly lost you. Something he’d never forgive himself for.

OMG this is was big one to write! I had so much I wanted to include but I decided to leave those ideas for separate writings. There is still one more part to this. It’s a Fred POV. Let me know if you would like to be tagged when I post it.

Tag List: @philsloveycacti @thecrazytealady @impossibelle @stuckindilemma @idkmanicantenglish @28cnn @bettysgardenswift @crazyjuly @alluringshawn @britishspidey @emmamarie7708 @slytherinambitious @loostssoul @bellaiscool @cherrytomato2 @lindsaytriestowrite @famdomhideout @mina-kimi @loveforreading @legili-mens @keepsmilingandstayhappy

If your name is crossed out, I wasn’t able to tag you. 

Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

[kj-1130]

Nothing For Me

Part 2

Main Masterlist

Part 1|Part 3

2012

     You were turning 11 this year. Natasha, as you learned she went by, was always a phone call away if you ever wanted to talk--since your sperm donor was obviously no help. You had recently had to call her due to your period starting, which you weren’t expecting to happen for at least another 2 to 3 years. Needless to say, it freaked you out and regardless of your smarts, nothing could have prepared you for that. 

     Nat took you shopping for what she called, ‘lady items’; bras, pads, tampons, anything a girl could possibly need. She also taught you how to shave if you ever wanted to. She specified that you should never feel forced to do it because ‘people need to normalize women having body hair. It grows there for a reason.’ And you totally agreed with her on that by the way. 

     There were a few times when she’d let you in on minor S.H.I.E.L.D secrets even though it was quite unnecessary seeing as you could hack your way through it all no problem. That’s how you found out about the Avengers Initiative. You couldn’t agree more with what was said about Tony. 

     Through your hacking and research of the initiative, you ‘met’ Clint. It was through a video call. He had invaded your girl-talk with Natasha. The three of you were practically best buds now. You’d go to Nat for advice or just when you needed a sister to talk to. You’d go to Clint when you just wanted to let loose and talk about absolute nonsense. 

-

     It was another lovely night in Stark Tower for you--please note the sarcasm. You were bored out of your mind. Natasha had been on an undercover mission and Clint was busy at the base; something about the Tesseract. You thought they should’ve just left the thing alone; let fate take its course. Some bad things were going to come with them messing with something they had no knowledge about. They’re joining a game without knowing any rules and are pretty much destined to lose. But, hey. What did you know?

     Pepper and Tony were probably in the common area, sucking each other's faces off. Despite how much you disliked Tony, based on your experiences, you couldn’t deny the fact that they’re pining was absolutely annoying, disgusting, and cute all at the same time. You were just glad it was over honestly.

     Pepper was an okay person to you. There was nothing you found super nice or mean about her that was prominent to you. She’d greet you on the quite rare occasion the two of you would cross paths and would start the casual small talk (“how are you?” “I’m fine, what about you” “Good, thanks for asking.”). She probably thought you were a live-in intern or something like that. With how much she tries to doctor Tony’s life, you’d think she would try to fix whatever nonexistent relationship between the pair of you, but nope. That just added to your intern theory. 

     You were reading a book on quantum physics, when your personal AI, M.I.A(miraculous intelligence assistant)--that you did in fact create yourself--notified you that someone had overridden Stark’s systems and gotten into the elevator. Just because you didn’t leave the room doesn’t mean you weren’t nosy. 

     “Who is it, M?”

     “Agent Phil Coulson, from S.H.I.E.L.D.,” M.I.A. spoke in her smooth voice. “Would you like to listen in on what they are saying?”

     “Is that even a question?”

     Jumping out of your beanbag, you went to the center of your room, where M.I.A had pulled up footage of what was happening in the common room. 

     “Security breach,” Tony turns to Pepper. “That’s on you.”

     “Mr. Stark.” 

     “Phil! Come in,” Pepper greeted. Since when were she and Agent Coulson on a first-name basis. You’d have to look into that. 

     “Phil? Uh, his first name is Agent.”

     “Come on in, we’re celebrating,” the red head invites. This was getting more interesting to you by the second!

     “I can’t stay.”

     “Which is why he can’t stay.”

     Phil ignores Tony and starts to hand him a file.

     “He doesn’t like being handed things,” you muttered. 

     “I don't like being handed things.” Called it.

     “That’s alright, ‘cause I love being handed things, So, let’s trade,” Pepper says. She hands Coulson her glass of champagne, takes the file, hands Tony the file, in return taking his drink.

     “Official consulting hours are between eight and five every other Thursday,” the billionaire said. 

     It was quite obvious Phil was over his jokes and that he was here for a much important matter.

     “Is this about the Avengers? Which I...I know nothing about.”

     Both men ignored Pepper. “The Avengers Initiative was scrapped, I thought. And I didn’t even qualify.” 

    That was a nice day. Finding out what they said about Tony had been nothing less than amusing in your opinion.

     “I didn’t know that either,” the CEO said. She sure does have the best cover-ups, doesn’t she? 

     “Yeah, apparently I’m volatile, self-obsessed, don’t play well with others.”

     “That I did know.”

     This whole thing was odd to you. Why were they trying to put together the Avengers when the whole idea was tossed?

     “M, pull up the most recent S.H.I.E.L.D files on the tesseract and the Avengers Initiative.”

     The AI did as told, and you scrolled through all of them. You saw things on Thor, Clint, Natasha, Bruce Banner, Steve Rogers, and lastly your sperm donor. Looking at Thor’s file, you found something about his brother Loki. And looking at his name, you saw his connections to the tesseract and everything had clicked. Loki had the thing and was definitely going to do something evil with it. 

-

     Both adults in the house were gone. Such responsible ones they are. Tony left earlier the next day and you honestly couldn’t remember when Pepper left. Now, here you were in your safe haven, trying to figure out what in the world Loki would want with the tesseract. There’s probably no way for you to figure it out since you weren’t where all the info was, actively investigating. But what you didn’t understand is why would they leave you here when such a threat was hanging in the air. 

     You knew Tony didn’t necessarily care for you, but he couldn’t forget about you, right? Natasha wouldn’t forget about you. Clint wouldn’t forget you. Right?

-

     It’s been two days. Two fucking days, and no one had come in or out of this building. 

     You were currently pacing in your room, while your AI--not even a fucking person--was trying to comfort you. 

     “Does no one answer their fucking phone anymore?”

     “I’m pretty sure there is a reasonable explanation as to why no one is answering.”

     Out of nowhere, you heard commotion from outside. Rushing over to the window and moving the curtains, you saw these alien things coming out of the sky. You ran out of your room and made your way to the nearest set of stairs as quickly as you could. 

     “Ah, the little Stark.”

     His voice sent chills up your spine. It was deep and quite terrifying. 

     “Come over, no need to be scared.”

     You followed his orders, having a feeling that if you didn’t things would end up ten times worse for you. He looked at you before basically yeeting you out of the window. It hurt; it felt like every bone in your body screamed for peace and anything in the background just became white noise. 

     You landed on the roof, writhing in pain and groaning. Everything hurt.

     Attempting to get up was hard and painful, but you knew that you had to leave or you’d die. 

     Looking up, you see that doctor. He was mentioned in the files but everything was just so fuzzy, you couldn’t remember properly. Finally being able to get up after numerous attempts, you limp your way down the stairs and out to the streets in the middle of all the chaos. 

     You were so scared. You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to contact Nat or Clint unless you somehow hacked into their coms system. You continued to walk down the streets, hoping to find some type of shelter, but it felt like you were about to collapse at any second. Sitting down in the nearest alley, you looked around. Looking left, there was a face right in front of yours.

     “Fuck! What the hell man?”

     The other person wasn’t fazed. Looking them over, you saw their frizzy, somewhat curly hair pulled back in a low ponytail. Her brown skin was covered in dirt and a little blood. 

     “Hey, you’re (y/n) Stark, right?” She asked a little breathlessly. 

     “I refuse to be acknowledged as such.”

     “I’m Michelle. But don't call me that or I’ll have to hurt you.”

     “Are you really trying to converse with me in the middle of an alien invasion? And acting like we’re both not hurt?”

     Michelle shrugs her shoulders when you both look over due to some yelling that you heard. 

     “MJ! Michelle where are you? Michelle Jones!”

     MJ looks back over and starts to get up but she trips and falls. You decide to help her up and take her over to the people calling her name. You both struggle but eventually get over to the adults with some time. 

     Before you could get away from the Jones family, the mother gripped your shoulder. 

     “C’mon, stay with us. We’ll find somewhere to lay low.“

     You were too tired and in too much pain to argue, so you let Michelle’s mother help you keep your balance while the young girl’s father did the same for her. 

     It was at least a good ten minutes until the four of you found a decent place to take a break. It looked like a gas station, but you really couldn’t tell due to how much damage there was. You and the Jones’ took cover behind a somewhat stable looking wall and tried to stay as quiet as possible. 

     It was quiet besides the distant screams of people and the yells of the aliens. You wondered if Nat and Clint were okay. You wondered if Tony was okay. You wondered if anyone was safe from this. This seemed like something no one could recover from.  

     “What’s your name, sweetheart?” The older woman asked. 

     “(Y/n).”

     “Where are your parents?”

     “My sperm donor is fighting I guess.”

     To say the adults were appalled by your bluntness  was an understatement. You’ve had a potty mouth for quite a while. There was no one to really correct you on what to and not to say--not that you really needed help with that being a genius and all; well a genius with common sense because your father didn’t have any of that. Without anyone to really monitor what you did,  you kind of just roamed free in a sense. 

- 

     The fight had died down eventually. The aliens were still coming, but a substantial amount of them had been killed. How a group of 6 people/gods/supersoldiers/or whatever amazed you. Maybe you could work behind the scenes one day; even though you already do. Just without anyone knowing. 

     Before you knew it, there was a nuke flying across the sky. ‘Leave it to the government to find an excuse to hurt civilians,’ you thought. But before it could hit anything, you saw a red and gold figure carry it to the portal.  

     You knew who it was. He was going to sacrifice himself for the safety of these people. If he didn’t make it, you would miss him even though there wouldn’t be much to miss. When that portal closed, your heart dropped to your stomach. You would never be able to make amends with him. You would never have a single conversation with him. Yeah he was a total douche bag for forgetting all about you, but you had at least expected to be able to see and maybe talk to him. Sort things out. 

     Without thinking, you ran as fast as you could towards where the newly assembled Avengers were; well at least where you last saw them. You ignored the calls of the Jones family, telling you to come back. Their protests telling you not to go so you can stay safe. You ignored the pain. The aching of your ribs. The dull throbbing in your head and on your lips. There was no doubt that your steps were uneven; limping down the street at your speed probably made you look like a crackhead.

     You kept running; not stopping. Not when your breaths got shorter and turned into wheezes. Not when you heard rattling in your chest. Not when you felt like you were going to collapse. Not when your joints popped and begged for rest. You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. Not until you found someone; anyone you knew. 

     You stopped after what felt like hours. It most likely was considering the sun was going down. You heard a little commotion inside a surprisingly intact building which turned out to be a Shawarma. Tony always talked about this place for some reason. 

     When you looked inside, the Avengers were there. At least, you guessed they were still called that. But that didn’t matter. They were relaxing after the battle. They looked quite relaxed considering they had just fought aliens. 

     But that was what kind of hurt. They weren’t worried about you. At all. Of course only 3--well not really 3. Only two really knew you and knew you were in that tower when the attack happened. Sure you weren’t expecting Clint or Nat to be running around the streets of this huge city, but a little effort or at least the thought of it would’ve been nice. You could’ve been dead and they sure as hell didn’t seem super worried about it. Maybe you were overthinking it. Or maybe you were just as forgettable and insignificant as you thought.

-

     You limped away from the establishment, trying to find somewhere to stay seeing as your home--if you could even call it that--was most likely destroyed. And you were in your feelings and nothing was a better cure than isolating yourself even more. You also wanted to see if you could get M.I.A running on a computer or something. Maybe update yourself on what was going on over the world at the moment. Or look up your frizzy-haired friend you met while you were running for your life. 

     You managed to find a computer near a dumpster. You leaned back against the wall and slid down slowly, not wanting to aggravate your injuries too much. You were able to get M.I.A running on the laptop and then looked up any news. The headlines were crazy. All you saw was the fight that just happened and the death count rising and rising…

     You didn’t want to be focused on anything dealing with your father, S.H.I.E.L.D., or any current events, so you decided to give M.I.A. the task of figuring out who Michelle and her family was. It sounded very creepy, but you were her age. What harm could you do with her info. Well you could cause harm to her and her family with any info you found but that was besides the point. The most you were going to do was send them a message or something like that. 

-

     You ended up sleeping in that alley. Deciding that you should head back to your place of residence, you got up and started walking back much to the process of your bones and joints. The tower seemed like it was so far away. Especially with your injuries and supposedly no one around to tend to them.  After what felt like hours, you made it to the entrance of the establishment and, surprise surprise, it’s already being rebuilt. You honestly didn’t know what time it was. You just wanted to get in your bed and sleep forever. 

-

     It had been about a month since the Battle of New York. Your injuries weren’t treated until about a week after the fact. Not because someone noticed you were hurt, but because it was getting hard to breathe and that didn’t seem like a fun way to go to you. 

     You’d been healing nicely so far, but your emotions and mental health were on the opposite side of the spectrum. Every time you close your eyes, you had this dream, vision, whatever it was, that when Loki threw you out the window, there was no balcony or landing area to stop on. You just kept falling, and falling until you hit the ground. Then you woke up.

      You had been isolating yourself as well. There had been plenty of missed calls from the pair, but you just couldn’t find the energy to move and pick up the phone. They were probably just doing it out of obligation anyway. 

       Seeing everyone, especially Nat and Clint, just made you rethink anything you’ve ever done. Were you too clingy when it came to Natasha? Did she really like you or did she just feel bad? You were probably just overreacting, but you can’t help but think these thoughts. 

    Everything was just spiraling out of control for you. And you couldn’t get help; well you at least felt like you couldn’t. If you told Tony--not that you would, but hypothetically-- he’d probably wave you off and laugh. If you tried to get a therapist, someone would probably leak that shit to the press; confidentiality be damned. 

     You felt like you were drowning and you didn’t know how much longer it would be until you fully sank.

[bxllafanficc]

¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(part seven)

Part one. Masterlist!

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

(Next week)

A week had passed by in a rather slow pace. Yuri's recovery seemed to never end when it had just been a few days. But those days were spent sleeping and eating, using his phone and sleeping some more. Mostly he had no one to talk to since everyone were busy with their own lives. Especially (Y/n) who had to keep her inner performer alive at all times. Her coach came with the idea of hosting a smaller gig where (Y/n) would perform about two or three numbers for the people of Japan. It was planned out as a small nightclub gig at first but the numbers of interested in Japan rose over the charts and well... (Y/n) said that she didn't want to let anyone down. Though her coach was apparently hesitant into taking more than a hundred people. 'Three numbers are too little for a concert.' They said but the people of Japan insisted on paying for the price a concert ticket anyway.

(Y/n) had told him this two days after his fever started. He remembered it made him scoff at how she decided the ticket would only cost a quarter of what a normal concert ticket would then. He had told her it was a ridiculous way of thinking.

He barely saw her after the first day of his fever. The way Yuri had taken a hold of her hand and fallen asleep... She waited until he woke up. Well, not exactly waited. She fell asleep at the edge of his bed.

And since that, the two of you barely talked during the days. They barely even met before she went to bed because she spent every waking hour to practice her numbers with her backup dancers. She still made you breakfast when she head the time though.

Yuri's glad it would soon be over and he could go back to normal. Everyone had been attending to him like he was some child and he felt like a huge burden. He had told Victor that he wished (Y/n) especially wouldn't just dismiss his attempts at doing things on his own just because he couldn't get out of bed with single effort. 'Right, she told me about that! You fell on your face right after while trying, didn't you?' He had replied.

So... yeah... Yuri wanted things to return to normal real fast. Yakov had promised him that he would get to start his session with (Y/n) as soon as the music for the program was set. And that was what Victor had been helping him with a couple times. It was hard to find something he wanted to use. Everything felt overused and boring. Just another performance. Yuri didn't want it to pass as that. He wanted to stand out and earn his gold medal for real just as last year. Now was also really the year of improvement so the music had to be well thought through. He was certainly going to take advantage of having a coach for emotional performances with him this season as well. Meaning, his free skate program was already set to be something hurtful and strong. Not love, he already did that. Something far more serious. He wanted the audience to cry after his performance. Everyone should be bawling. Yakov, piglet, Victor and even (Y/n).

Most important of all, no one would be expecting him to do a program with such deep meaning. Because he was one to avoid it in the past.

His short program should be something upbeat and flashy. He wanted the choreography so intense that he'd be coughing up blood at the end of the performance, if that was possible. So the music had to make the pulse of the audience rise when hearing it. Meaning, the music would be in the rock genre. And he already had just the song for it.

This performance would show off his skills and flexibility as well as the importance of his stamina since the entire program would be non-stop step sequences and jumps throughout almost the entire music. Since he intended to be in better shape than ever before before the competition started, he felt no point in holding back on anything. If he played it safe, then what was the point?

"Ah! Good morning Yuri! I come bearing gifts!" Victor busted the door open with his foot and stumbled inside the room, balancing a tray in his hand. The tray was set down in front of him and Victor sat down at the end of Yuri's bed.

"Where's (Y/n)?" Yuri was truly surprised to see Victor being the one to bring you the breakfast today. It had been her until now. And he hadn't even seen as much as her face today since she left so early.

"Ouch. I'm replaced already? I can't go on knowing I'm not your favorite anymore, you know." Victor put a dramatic hand to his forehead and fell backwards onto Yuri's legs. The tray with the breakfast threatened to tumble and Yuri made an effort to stabilize it. It was bacon and eggs with apple slices. A part of him felt a little sad that the slices weren't in the shape of stars...

"You were never my favorite, old man. And you didn't answer my question." Yuri picked up the fork and pointed it towards the man slopped unto the bed end. He ignored the sad pout he received and took a bite of the apple cut into pieces. Each slice were to large and it didn't even taste the same even though they were of the same apples like yesterday. The eggs were decent and the bacon slightly undercooked. Victor's efforts to cook for the household during the day were appreciated of course. But there was no wonder why (Y/n) stood for the head of the dinner at days when her schedule wasn't as crazy.

"She's practicing like mad. Called her dancers to say that she would be starting a few hours ahead of time because she got an energy boost. She wants the show to be at her best efforts possible."

"I haven't even seen her today. How can she practice like a maniac when she's probably already learned her numbers flawlessly?"

Victor was watching Yuri with a funny look. Probably wondering where all those questions came from.

"I think the show is a way for her to relax."

Say what? Going out of bed before sunrise and coming back from practice just mere hours before midnight could never be considered relaxation. Yuri would never be able to pull that off. That was an insane view of the word relaxing, definitely.

"The steam and demands from her competition in We are voice are currently lifted off her shoulders like heavy weights, you know. This is probably just fun to her. She doesn't have to compete with anyone. I think it gives her a sense of relief."

Yuri stopped eating and thought a little extra on what Victor said.

Yes. She was always stressed in every video where a fan or a nosy reporter came out of nowhere and started recording. Yuri had seen those videos. Especially the one where the random person happened to record the exact moment her mind broke down and she had a breakdown in front of a large crowd. Now there was no denying that Yuri sees (Y/n) as the most weirdest and ridiculous being alive. The way she is so determined to get her way and how much she cares for strangers she's never met. Yuri kind of still consider the two of them to be strangers, even after two weeks being with each other on a daily basis. Her eyes are also too intense for anyone to be up close with to her face and as if that wasn't enough, she's also a morning person and that's already a big warning sign to stay away from a person.

But even though he had had this mental conversation with him many times. Even though he agreed that he disliked her; he couldn't help but being captivated by her performances.

It felt so weird seeing her cry like that just minutes before her performance and then watching her going on stage having the time of her life. There was no doubt she loved her fans and performing on stage but that was one of those moments where Yuri really got to see the mind behind the happy smile. It was the first time he had seen her crying or feeling a negative emotion. It's still the first but he got a taste of her irritated self not so long ago.

It made Yuri think about her performance that day. It was a remarkable song filled with sheerness and excitement and her eyes were still wet with tears as she got up on stage.

"Remember (Y/n) performing 'Animal' during the acappella collaboration sequence?"

"Yes! One of my favorites. She was so happy on stage that day." While it had been true that she found happiness, it's not to ignore how broken she felt right before. 'Animal' by Neon Trees (A/N: listen to the Glee version of the song for the best acapella dynamic!) Was one of (Y/n)'s best performances, according to Yuri. He had watched it on repeat just this morning. There's really nothing special to the song in itself. It was the way she delivered every word and tune with such bravery after her internal battle like that. Her emotional response has always been on point but this particular song was something completely real and touching with her tears glistening in the corner of her eyes the entire performance. The tears of sadness had been replaced with joy and she had genuinely just been having a great time with the acapella group at her side, cheering and jumping around on stage with stars in her eyes.

'Oh, oh

I want some more

Oh, oh

What are you waiting for?

Say goodbye to my heart tonight'

The chorus were always his favorite part. Maybe it was the interpretation of the love-hate relationship the words of the lyrics intended. (Y/n) was belting out 'what are you waiting for' with such passion even though it was hardly a difficult song to perform.

'Here we are again

I feel the chemicals kickin' in

It's gettin' heavier and

I wanna run and hide

I wanna run and hide'

The short verse got him every time. The way her eyes watered at the end and then were immediately blown away by the chorus once again. The way she let go of her sadness and let her happy thoughts consume her. No, she let the song consume her and gave the song a completely different touch never done before.

Yuri had lost count of the time he'd watched it and he knew the choreography and song in and out by now. It was mainly intended for the purpose of studying her expression and getting some kind of inspiration for his music choice. He wanted his theme of his music choice for the free skate program to be 'to let go'. If there's any theme harder than love, then it's letting go of the thing you love. And not just what you love. Letting go to be able to love as well. Whether it's love for yourself or another person. There are countless interpretations and that's what (Y/n) had performed that day, with no intention whatever of doing it in such a way.

"I have... I have chosen the music for my program. At the inspiration of t-that performance."

Now don't get Yuri wrong. He'd never admit it to anyone that (Y/n) had been an inspiration to his free skate. He would probably had figured out the idea anyway, it would just had taken a little longer. And her performance was his own way to interpret it so he'd been the one to come up with the decision anyway. So in a way, she didn't have anything to do with it. And his choice of song would be far more intense and heartbreaking than anything Neon Trees could produce. And so Yuri told Victor about his music choices even though he had no clue why he put that kind of trust into the man.

"Those are some really clever choices when combined with your own vision. I'm almost a little jealous. Maybe I should just hire (Y/n) as my coach myself. It seems like it did wonders for you already!" The man laughed and patted Yuri on the shoulder.

"Nonsense. She hasn't began coaching me yet. She had no part in this." Yuri pushed away the empty tray to make room for sitting up and crossing his legs.

"Oh, but it seems like you learned a lot by ogling her all day long though." The smirk Yuri received made his teeth grit and his ears flush.

"I-i wasn't ogling her!"

"Then what were you doing exactly? I heard 'Animal' playing for a good 30 minutes from the wall connected to the room beside yours." Victor laughed at the startled freeze of The Russian Punk.

Okay fine. Maybe he went overboard with the video. But a new problem had seemed to appear now as he admitted defeat.

Yuri now had a witness that would have to be taken care of somehow. He leaned forwards and gripped the collar of Victor's shirt in a tight fist. The glare of daggers shot forwards onto the smiling man.

"Tell anyone about it and you're gonna have to reconstruct that pretty nose of yours. That's a promise,not a threat."

"Trust me! You won't hear a peep!"

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

What type of kids do you think the ikevamp guys would be if they went to high school?

Oh boy HERE WE GO

(Under a cut bc this post is a Long Boi^TM)

Napoleon. Would prbly be that kid that’s like somehow bafflingly in the top ten of his class but nobody ever sees him??? Like he’s always late to school or napping in the quietest places on campus (they found him in a locker once and the school was laughing about it for WEEKS bc he insisted he was just chillin, and it wasn’t like a bullying incident he just wanted to sleep LMAO). Surprisingly amiable? A lot of people are afraid of him at first but he’s just so casual and direct, he gains quite a few friends (and a good number of girls have a crush on him--he always diverts the attention of skeevy guys). Good friends with Jeanne because they fence together a lot, and people are always baffled at how easily they chat

Mozart. Where do I begin. Number one in his class, perfectionist prick. That one kid that’s a known prodigy and that everyone hates for his impeccable grades and musical talent. Always gets the solos and conducting roles in the school performances. He knows how to play a crowd--will always be sweet and cherubic in front of teachers. But when it’s just the students? All gloves are off. Frigid and incendiary, will not take any shit and will tear you apart with words in milliseconds. Do not cross. He will end your entire life and self-esteem, it’s not worth it. Has a few friends, and they often experience the disdain of jealous students--but they’re all steadfast about defending him. And Mozart will not tolerate it if people are mistreating his friends, he’s an iron wall of defense; to be his friend means to always have someone looking out for you, make no mistake. He and Jeanne often grab food together after practice and ask about each others day, they hella close but never really show it while school’s on--their class schedules are worlds apart bc of their grades, and at lunch they’re usually practicing/doing hw. When they hug it out at graduation and pat each other on the back everyone nearly falls the fuck out of their chair LMFAO

Leonardo. That kid that 100% could probably be in the top fifty of his class but just can’t be bothered to give a damn. Always argues points with his teachers and plays devil’s advocate until they are inches from exploding at him. Always the one to mercifully make class feel shorter with his absolute distraction-heavy shitfuckery (and sometimes you really learn something because of his line of thinking). He's a dumbass but like harmless, essentially. Used to be the perfect student^TM and then decided the system was bullshit and he wanted no part of it, thinks public education can kiss his ass. Nobody knows it since he asks people not to talk about it, but he tutors kids after school for hours--has brought kids from Ds to Bs. He always dodges nosy people, never goes to parties, and finds ways to intervene around kids that are struggling with smth (with ninja stealth of course). Despite how easily he laughs and chats with just about anyone, he’s...actually surprisingly v much a lone wolf. Only ever consistently hangs out with the heartthrob rich kid, but nobody understands why???? And they’re always roasting each other wtf, are they even friends????

Comte. Pretty boy genius, always in the top five of his class though doesn’t seem too worried about it or obsessed with rank as students often are. It’s more that his parents have high expectations for his future as their heir, so he tends to fall in line with it. Born into money but somehow....not an asshole??? He doesn’t really like showing off, tries to be quiet about his accomplishments but his parents won’t really allow it--and he’s the star of the soccer team so it can be hard to hide. Most often the one at a party trying to help people sober up (always designated driver) or hearing his friends out when they have a problem. Has never publicly tried to bust heads, but some of the guys in the school insist he’s got a dark side--probably because he threatened them (passive aggressively) within an inch of their lives for being disgusting to girls. But nobody believes them bc...I mean look at him, does that look like a threat?? He just bought that kid’s lunch for christ’s sake. TONS of girls ask him out and confess their feelings, and he always lets them down as gently as he can--conceivably doesn’t like anyone himself, as far as the student body knows. Like Leonardo he’s v amiable, but also manages to reveal nothing personal while getting close. Leonardo’s the only one that’s managed to scratch the surface, and the kid won’t leave him alone for some godforsaken reason. And yet, he seems to enjoy their minutes of banter more than the hours of time spent with “friends”

Arthur. Oh boy. Good lord. Well. He used to be a sweetheart that would always seek out the mousier students and bring them into discussion/involve them on the playground. But alas, Teenage Jadedness^TM hit him like a train and now he’s an incorrigible flirt and believes no single person can be good deep down (somebody get this bitch some eyeliner). Believes the world will always be a cruel and unfeeling place where victims are never heard, so he just kind of goes full skeptical and bitter (think Sylvain for those of you that are FE fans). Has fun with every girl he sees (usually dating several girls at once) and doesn’t much care for his grades, but somehow has perfect scores in English?? He insists it’s because he needs to keep his seduction game on par with the voices of older legends before him, but some of the girls that see him in the library from time to time--v serious--are struck by how attractive he is in such deep focus, entirely uncharacteristic of his nosy and boisterous behavior in the halls (can often be seen whirling around Isaac like a bird of prey while our little baby robin Isaac stiffly tries to get away from him, and Dazai often joins to make things even more chaotic bc why not? In reality they just love this feisty kid that never gives up on what’s right, even though they’ve both given up trying themselves)

Dazai. He’s one of those kids that like does weed regularly but is also like...alarmingly insightful?? Like those kids I was always told to avoid, but now and again I would have conversations with out of necessity and was just...kinda shook. I mean granted he’s a little weird but he’s fairly harmless?? He’s like a class clown but on a massive scale--there’s nobody in the place that doesn’t know who he is, that haven’t heard tales of his exploits (he always comes in through the windows and gets detention for it a lot, and he even brought a chicken with him to school once????) nobody gets what he’s doing at any moment (don’t even know if he does really, chaotic mofo) and honestly nobody wants to know they just do the side eye meme when he appears or laughs. The teachers lament his untapped potential or just hate him for making their lives an even bigger headache than usual, and his grades are...yeah let’s not look at those. Organized the senior prank with absolute GLEE, and it was talked about for ages after he was gone--an inspiration chaotic bastards everywhere

Theodorus. (I hate.......that I pictured him in those like Vineyard Vine white boy clothes.......for the record its mostly bc his parents force him to wear them). All business. This kid doesn’t have time for your bullshit, will absolutely walk away if you’re boring him or seeking social clout. Popular because he’s hot and has a mean streak a mile wide, all the girls that didn’t like Mozart for being ethereal and effeminate boomeranged to find Theo ready to fulfill their hopes and dreams. They only grow more feral when rumors of him actually being fairly nice one on one--and telling creeps to fuck off of vulnerable girls at parties--start to circulate. (If he isn’t with Vincent, Arthur is probably near. Nobody understands how the two are brothers????) Van Gogh name apparently is just “I can be your angel or i can be your devil” and no one understands how... Grades are average and he’s plenty capable, most of his time is spent working after school because his parents refuse to provide Vincent with any artistic materials (canvas, paints, etc). They ask him to go to parties more, but he only goes to piss his parents off (he’s v lowkey punk and it’s understandably sexy of him). Will literally only listen to Vincent, and got in a looooot of trouble after getting into a fistfight with Shakespeare. Only stopped because his parents blamed Vincent for the incident, and Vincent apologized and went quiet for days ;-;

Vincent. Always been quiet and shy, but he doesn’t dislike ppl--he just has a hard time speaking up now and again. His parents always talk over him and tell him nothing he has to say has any real value, so he tends to struggle with a lot of self-doubt. Not isolated because he’s not likeable, it’s more because people tend to take advantage of his mild and earnest nature--until Theo runs them off. He’s on amiable terms with most people but has no real, true friends and it makes him feel lonely a lot. Mostly copes with the emotional turmoil by painting as much as he can. His grades are average, he does reliably well but can often be found daydreaming or distracted. Theo tends to escort him everywhere because of his propensity to attract danger (namely Shakespeare) or walk into things cuz he’s in his head a lot. A few of the artsier girls and the quiet academic girls have HUGE crushes on him (he’s softspoken, sweet, and calm; come on now), but he’s so distant--and honestly nice to everyone in equal measure--that they don’t have much hope of it coming to fruition. This kid deadass doesn’t think a single girl would ever like him that way so he’s just c:???????? when Theo talks about “those nosy harpies coming after my brother”

Jeanne. EDGY MCEDGE. Isn’t amazing in the academic department, but he’s a killer fencer--the rallying cry of the entire team. He became leader his sophomore year and he’s pretty much the only reason they keep destroying at tournaments throughout the year. Despite the pervasive interest in him he intimidates most people away with his swift intensity and ironclad stoicism. Silent as a grave and very still, people are convinced he’s the Grim Reaper reincarnated (listen he’s juST A DUTIFUL BABIE N O). If he isn’t fencing or practicing, Isaac often offers him help in the library after school hours in one of the study rooms (can’t be seen who’s inside from the outside). The two develop a kind of uncanny bond; they’re both so...bad at human-ing that they find a lot of comfort in the atmosphere they create. There’s none of the bullshit grandstanding or clout obsession, just them genuinely trying to help each other (yes Jeanne absolutely teaches Isaac self-defense moves in order to crush the kids that pick on him, and Jeanne often either glares or outright threatens those students when Isaac isn’t looking). Only ever smiles or feels understood when he’s hanging out with Mozart, so he cherishes the time Mozart offers him to hang (he knows the kid is busy up to his eyeballs and under a ton of pressure by comparison, his parents don’t care much as long as they can brag about his fencing records)

Isaac. Mega nerd that just...does not know how to interact. Only understands math and DESTROYS in competitive math club, but otherwise is always alone at lunch or just in the library. A little bean pole because he doesn’t look after himself very well (neglects to eat a lot) and can sometimes be found asleep on his books. If approached he will be very thorny, doesn’t have any friends to speak of and trusts everyone about as far as he can throw them. Yells at Arthur and Dazai a lot when they flock around him, and has gotten into his fair share of fights. Never starts fights, but will finish them. People are surprised he can hold his own, and he comes away with blood that ain’t his. There are a few girls that are curious about him, but its mostly the ones that have seen his awkward thoughtfulness in club--or the girls that are sick of the assholes and appreciate how stalwart he is. He really just wants to be left in peace (his parents never show up to his meets or when he wins academic awards, and the few teachers that notice are pretty concerned abt his reactivity and complete lack of social savvy...) Leonardo always helps him sneak in at night to look at the stars on the school roof

Shakespeare is p much the like “kid most anticipated to be in jail as soon as they’re out of high school” He just. Has that like...serial killer vibe??? Idk if I’m explaining this well but he was that guy that would always cling to genuinely compassionate girls just trying to be nice like a LEECH, and would never fucking shut up if he did or didn’t get attention. You just can't win with this kid. Probably wanted to kill the kids that made fun of him or at the very least wanted to lash out against the confident/popular/nice kids. Only liked you if he didn’t deem you a threat, or if you didn’t make him insecure, or if you tolerated him (aka Vincent. Vincent PLEASE stop trying to reach out to dangerous ppl....I love you too much to watch this shit...) He admitted as much to Theo and the kid went livid with rage and pummeled him into the ground, though most of the rest of the student body doesn’t know quite what happened. (Theo refuses to explain to anyone, and just walks away if asked). Shakespeare will just change the subject endlessly and make passive aggressive threats until the person leaves if they try to bring it up. The only time the entire class has EVER seen Leonardo mad is when Shakespeare kept tailing this girl that wanted no part of him

Sebastian. Nerdy like Isaac, but is more of the silent observer type. Like Theo, doesn't want any part of the bullshit but won't be as blunt or outspoken about it, he's only open about it if pressed or pissed off. Doesn't have much patience for the clique-driven nature of high school and tends to take an interest in the people who stand out beyond the mind-numbing drama. Also is in the top fifty but studies like a lunatic, and can often be seen asking Comte for tips now and again. Has tried talking to Mozart and admires his talents, but Mozart gives a cold shoulder that would put Antarctica to shame. (Leonardo tries to ninja him into taking breaks but never succeeds). Has a great deal of disdain for the troublemakers (Arthur and Dazai) but doesn't intervene, just watches shit go down and sighs. Probably the most normal(?) one of the bunch, just does his best and keeps his head down

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Dawn in Your Eyes Part 22

Summary: Alfie has little to no idea why Caroline ever gave him the time of day. The blind woman seemed far too sensible to even speak to him. But soon he finds himself falling helplessly in love.

Part 22: Alfie and Caroline find that there’s something more harrowing than a brief marital disagreement. 

TW: antisemitism 

            “Mr. Solomons.” Candace hesitated to approach the man’s office. She had heard the shouting back and forth between him and Caroline as she put a plaster on Chava’s hand. It was nothing she wanted to get involved in. But Caroline had called for her and insisted that Candace bring Alfie back to the bedroom.

            But Alfie didn’t look to be in the mood for any conversation. “What is it?” He asked gruffly.

            The young woman wrung her hands together. “Well, Mrs. Solomons was asking if you would return to speak with her further.” She explained.

            “Does she? Well, tell her that I ain’t talking about anything else with her today. She’s being reckless, frankly, and I won’t have anything to do with it.” He replied curtly.

            Candace had a fondness for the Solomons family, ever since she had been brought in to care for Caroline during her pregnancy. She thought they were lovely people, having seen them in a vulnerable state of domesticity. But that still didn’t erase Alfie’s temper.        

            So, she tried another approach. “Perhaps, you could talk to me about it?”

            He lifted his head to look at her with scrutiny.

            “I often find that if you tell someone else your side of the story, you can see things a bit clearer.” She explained with a shaky voice. She was just waiting for Alfie to throw her out of the house for being so nosy and prying into his personal business.

            But instead, he sighed. “She wants more children.” He waved a hand to the chair that was sat across from his desk.

            Candace took the invitation and sat down.

            “I just don’t think it’s a good idea ‘cause of what happened with Chava. I ain’t gonna lose her to something that could be avoidable. If we don’t have any more children then we don’t run the risk of-well whatever could happen.”

            Candace nodded. “I understand you want to be cautious. But I suppose you could understand Mrs. Solomons too. She told me it was customary to have a big family.”

            “Yeah, s’pose it is.” He grumbled. “But tradition be damned, her life comes first.”

            “Right, I understand.” Candace nodded. “I think…you’re both right and unfortunately there’s no way of knowing how things will go if you do have more children. But I guess that’s what life is all about. We don’t know how many days we have left.” She shrugged. “It’s about making the best of what you have right now.”

            Alfie scratched his beard as he looked at her. “That’s very Jewish.” He said. “Creating heaven in this life, now.”

            “Oh, I didn’t realize…”

            “No, it’s good. Makes sense. Rational, innit? Life should be celebrated.”

            She smiled. “Right.”

            “Very profound, Candy.” He praised. “I thought Chava was a fast learner because of me but it might be because of you.” He chuckled and stood up. “If you’ll excuse me, I should go talk to Caroline.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

            It took a few conversations between Alfie and Caroline before they reached an agreement. They would go ahead with having more children as long as there was both a midwife and a doctor at hand during the birth. And if possible, she would give birth in a hospital instead of the home.

            But the rest was up to fate.

            Meanwhile, Chava celebrated her second birthday. As she grew and learned, Alfie and Caroline were testing the waters to see if she could recognize Caroline’s blindness. Or at least understand it. It proved difficult as she seemed too young to comprehend but old enough to know something was different.

            As her temper started to develop a little more, it became very clear that she was her father’s daughter. She could throw a fit like no other and when she wanted to be loud, she could be ear piercing.

            Much to Alfie’s chagrin, Chava was a little sponge and would pick up on anything he did or said. She stomped her feet to imitate the heavy sound of his boots in the home. She swore like a sailor and there wasn’t anything Caroline or Alfie could do to change that. Alfie tried to change his vocabulary in front of the toddler but it was too late.

            Alfie was in hot water for a bit with Caroline and Julia but it was something they had to live with.

            Aside from her mouth and occasional temper, Chava was a lovely little girl. She adored her parents and loved nothing more than just spending time with them.

            When Alfie came home in the evening, Chava would run to him with a big grin on her face. And every single time, the stress rolled right off his shoulders. He picked her up and held her close, greeting her warmly.

 ~~~~~~~~~~

            One night, however, her smile wouldn’t be able to cure his stress. As he came home, Caroline met him at the door instead of their daughter.

            There was worry creased into her face and Alfie was terrified that something had happened to Chava.

            “Carrie, what’s wrong?”

            “My aunt just called. Her office building was just set on fire. Or-or bombed, they don’t know yet.” Tears were slipping down her cheeks.

            “What?” It certainly wasn’t the news he was expecting. “Just now?”

            She nodded, clearly just as confused as he was.

            “Right, wait here.” He instructed. “I’ll be right back.”

            “No, you need to stay!” She reached out to him. “It isn’t safe. Not until we know what really happened.”

            “This might be…” Well, Alfie could come up with a few different potential causes. Sure, it might have been an accident, but he wasn’t counting on it. In fact, he was already lining up a list of suspects in his head. However, that meant that the attack was ultimately his fault. Whoever it was, if they were his enemy, they were trying to get back at him for something. Now Caroline’s family and their business were in the line of fire.

            “It’ll be alright.” He assured her. He took her hand in his and kissed her forehead. “Call Ollie. Have him bring Shayna and the kids over. I want everyone to be together until we figure this out. I’ll send Julia here when I get there.”

            Caroline nodded but still looked worried. “Just hurry, please.”

            “I will.”

~~~~~~~~~ 

            Alfie rushed across town. There was a plume of smoke leading the way to the scene. People had gathered at a far enough distance to see what had happened. There were quiet whispers as he pushed his way through. A police car had already pulled up as the fire was starting to be put out.

            Judging by a quick glance at the smoldering remains of the building, there was little chance it was a small accident.

            Alfie found Julia talking with a police officer. Her hand was clutched to her chest. The usually iron-tough woman was shaken by the near-death experience.

            “Julia.” He approached.

            “Oh, Alfie.” She touched his arm, her hand trembling. “Thank God, you’re alright. Caroline thought maybe something had happened to you.”

            “I’m alright. What happened?”

            The cop didn’t look too pleased to see the notorious gangster intruding. “Move along, Alfie, this has nothing to do with you.”

            His eyes darkened. “This is me family, mate. Has more to do with me than it does you. So why don’t you fuck off and find out who did this?” Though, he didn’t really put that much trust in the police to figure out the truth.

            Yet, he could be wrong. “We know who did it.” The officer responded sharply.

            “Yeah? Who was it then?” Alfie demanded, ready to put his hands around the neck of whatever lowlife committed the crime.

            “It’s not any of your business. Scotland Yard will take care of it. Stay away from the matter, lest you want to be locked up for interfering.”

            “That a fucking threat?” He snarled. “You better fucking tell me who it was or I’m going to-”

            “Alfie, enough.” Julia interrupted sternly. She knew her niece would be a wreck if he was locked up for threatening an officer. “I’d like to see Caroline, let’s go now.”

            He glared at the cop. “You’re lucky. I’m gonna find out, you can put money on that, mate.” He jabbed a finger at him before ushering Julia away from the building that was crumbling.

 ~~~~~~~~~

            Before they entered the flat, Alfie stopped Julia. “Did he tell you?”

            “Not who they were. But he said they’re fascists.” She answered quietly. “Blackshirts.”

            Suddenly, it went beyond Alfie. This was no petty retaliation from the Titanic or Sabini. It had nothing to do with who Julia was associated with. It had to do with their identities.

            Alfie could handle people not liking him. Whether they disliked his occupation, his sinful behavior, his kill count, or his distasteful personality. That was all well and good. But once people started targeting his religion, he felt like he could black out from rage. The heart of his people being aimed at like they weren’t even humans. It was sickening. And it was getting closer and closer to home. There was no ignoring it, no chalking it up to a bunch of radical morons with twisted ideology. No, it was serious and far beyond Alfie’s scope of power. Still, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do anything about it.

~~~~~~~                       

            Caroline hugged her aunt close, relieved she had made it out alive. But she was still confused. “Did you speak with the police?”

            “Let’s not concern ourselves with that.” Julia shared a look of discomfort with Alfie. Neither of them was really in the mood to discuss the root of the crime. It felt horrendous saying out loud. “Let’s just be thankful no one was killed.”

            Caroline nodded somberly. “Alfie, Chava is upstairs asking for you.”

            “Alright, I’ll tuck her in. Just want to talk to Ollie first.” He gave his wife a quick peck before going to find Ollie.

            He and Shayna were sitting in the parlor. Their three children were there as well. The two eldest seemed frightened by what was going on, but the youngest was asleep, unaware.

            “Ollie.” Alfie jerked his head to the kitchen.

            His assistant understood and stood up to follow. “Did they say anything?”

            “Fascists.” He replied quietly.

            The young man looked confused. The Blackshirts had been in the news but it seemed like a distant worry. Surely something so insane would be written off by the general public before anything would really happen. “Here?”

            Alfie nodded. “Scotland Yard’s looking into it, guess they know who did it. Be honest, I doubt they’ll be put in prison. If they do, won’t be for long.”

            Ollie looked wary. “Sir…I don’t think whatever you’re thinking of doing is a good idea.”

            His boss narrowed his eyes. “So, we’re just supposed to let those fuckers do whatever they want? Next time there’ll be people in the building, Ollie.” He snapped. “And we’re gonna be wondering why we didn’t do anything sooner.”

            “But, sir, this is something bigger.” He reminded Alfie. “It’s a political party. They aren’t just a small gang.”

            “A group of violent men with a set of beliefs is a gang. Don’t care if they have a political party. Fuck it, I could have a political party if I wanted. All I care is that they come to realize that they ain’t coming back into Camden ‘less they want consequences.”

            “Well,” Ollie knew there was little chance of talking him out of anything. “Tomorrow I can see what we might be able to find out about what the Yard knows. Though, we don’t have any informants on the inside.”

            “I know someone who does.” Alfie nodded. “I’m going to bring Caroline and Chava to Margate tomorrow. If you’d like Shayna to go as well, that can be arranged.” If he could just pick Camden up and out of London and move all the people to safety, he would. But at the same time, Alfie was afraid of budging. He would not be chased out of his own territory. His family was forced out of Russia because of being Jewish. Alfie was not being forced out anymore. He was staying put.

 //Holy moly I’m so sorry for the delay in this. I kept going back to the document but was in such a block that I just had to put it aside for a bit. It’s been so long since I uploaded that 90% of my tag list deactivated 😂 

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

Tag list:  @thinkingsofamadwoman 

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[amostimprobabledream]

Why I hate Grace.

I was giving my thoughts on Peaky Blinders a few weeks ago and I danced around the subject of my dislike for this character but didn’t have time/room to get it all out. So here it is! Grace fans, you probably want to look away now. So to me, Grace is kind of symbolic of the bad writing on Peaky Blinders, which is especially egregious because usually the writing of the show is good. But right off the bat, her arrival creates a number of plotholes that don't resonate with Tommy's character. Just for a start, nobody seems to find it suspicious that an apparently attractive woman (seriously, people go on and on about how pretty Grace is and while it's not as though she's ugly at all, you can't help but wonder if the Peaky boys merely think so because she's the only woman of significance not related to them) is so determined to be a barmaid in The Garrison, where Tommy, upon seeing her, immediately asks her if she's a whore. Grace is understandably offended by the question, which again makes you wonder why she'd want to work somewhere where such a question isn't just an assumption, but the first thing Tommy asks - we know she's a spy, but the other characters don't.

Then, Tommy corners Grace and starts asking why she keeps being so nosy about the Blinders and their business. They go for a walk and Tommy asks Grace if she's a Catholic. She says she is, but when Tommy points out that no good Catholic girl would walk into a church without making the cross, he immediately exposes her as a liar and points out he also knows that she lied to him about what town she was from, because he asked around and nobody had ever heard of her. So what does he do? He...promotes her to being his secretary? What?

Okay, so you might argue that Tommy puts her in said position to keep an eye on her, or thinks she might be useful if she has the balls to lie to him, but she tells such an easy-to-unravel lie and her excuse is because she wants to "fit in". Again, he lets her off the hook but she covers up a lie with an even more obvious one  - if Grace cared about fitting in, she'd make more of an effort to do so, but she keeps demanding Tommy let her sing in the pub and asks questions above her station to Arthur, which got reported back to Tommy. Sure, it's her job to spy on the Peaky boys, but she's so transparent about it that it's honestly ridiculous that Tommy would ever put her in a position that close to his personal affairs. Not to mention, Grace is so inexplicably haughty towards Tommy, telling him, "You disappoint me" when he kisses her. You'd think if she was good at her job, she'd learn to shut her mouth and keep her head down like a decent spy, but she always acts as if she's better than Tommy because, like Polly points out, she's a spoiled little rich girl at heart and she does think herself above the Shelby's.

Then Tommy completely inexplicably chooses to give Grace a fucking gun and tells her some men are going to come in and try to kill him and he's relying on her to bail him out. I know the cops were meant to come in at the stroke of six and they fuck up, but WHY would you ever place that level of trust in someone you already know is a liar? Sorry, but I just don't buy that Tommy was blinded by "love". I can buy that maybe he was curious about Grace, possibly even fancied her a bit, but definitely not so stupid that he thinks it's a good idea to put his fucking life in the hands of a woman he knows basically nothing about. She could have fallen out of the sky for all he knows. Tommy even continues to trust Grace after she kills an IRA guy right in front of him because she sobs, "I didn't know I had it in me like that", yet she disobeyed his instructions and whenever Arthur or John do that, Tommy gives them a bollocking. He lets Grace off, again, for seemingly no reason other than she played the damsel in distress role and he buys it. This doesn't make Tommy look like a smart man blinded by love, it just makes him look like an idiot around Grace.

Also, there seems to be an uncomfortable level in Tommy/Grace of Tommy getting a kick out of using Grace to piss Campbell off. It's pretty obvious Campbell has a creepy crush on her, and Tommy exploits that for all it's worth when he explicitly rings Campbell to inform him that he's going to bang Grace. (Incidentally, their sex scene made me go, "Oh, I guess they're gonna fuck now. Yup." It was like they did it because the screenwriter said so.) He's basically cucking Campbell and I think it's a big reason why even Grace fans admit that she's "not as good" in Season Two - Grace just doesn't work without Campbell around. At least in Season One you can argue that every shitty thing Grace does to Tommy/the Peaky Blinders is partly because of her job as a spy and Campbell is her boss. In Season Two, there are no excuses for the way Grace acts. She's a selfish, self-righteous hypocrite. She jumps at the chance to go to Birmingham on the offchance it was Tommy who called, then acts all offended when he assumes she came to sleep with him, to the point she actually smacks him in the face. What does Tommy do about this? Nothing. When Grace complains they could have run away to New York together, all Tommy says is, "I had things to do", instead of asking Grace why she thinks he'd abandon his family, business, friends and country all to chase after the woman who sold him out to his worst enemy. Grace honestly expected Tommy to put her first after everything she did to him. I won't act like Tommy is a saint in this - he did nearly pimp her out to Billy Kimber - but at least he acknowledges it was wrong of him to do and he never acts like he occupies any moral highground like Grace does. When Grace admits she sold Tommy out, she sobs she "did a terrible thing," yet never tries to actually help him out in a way that would put her at risk - she quit her position, sure, but Campbell's creepiness had gone so far as to propose marriage to her, Grace was still looking out for herself when she left, because it got her away from Campbell. She asked Campbell to spare him, knowing full well that Campbell has wanted Tommy dead since day one. She plays the damsel in distress again and she's pissed when Tommy doesn't fall for it a second time. Then when she talks about her husband, she tries to rub it in Tommy's face how he's “a good, kind man”, but then quickly backtracks on that to fuck Tommy anyway because her husband is impotent - and Grace just can't deal with not getting what she wants. Tommy's rich enough to afford to buy a house for Ada and Polly by this point, he's running Birmingham and seeking to expand into London, so Grace pulls the oldest trick in the book and gets pregnant - then Tommy has to do the responsible thing and marry her, because the baby is his and it's literally the only piece of leverage she has over May. (May even points out that she's been stringing Tommy along and all Grace can do is throw the fact that "Grace's Secret" is the horse's name at her. Again though, did Tommy call it that to piss off Campbell? This was before Grace returned to Small Heath but after Campbell had, so I think yes.)

Then in Season Three, again, Grace is pretty much a pointless character, because she has no purpose anymore outside of being "Tommy's wife". Campbell is dead and so the conflict of her character in Season One, as contrived as that was, is gone. People complain about Grace being stuffed into a fridge and whatnot, (and tbh, you could say that about Freddie, but Freddie also served his purpose in Season One after he buried the hatchet with Tommy), but honestly I think that it was all they could think to do with her because Charlotte Riley was unable to pick up her role as May for Season Three, so they had to work around it. It's the only explanation I can think of about why Grace is just such a blatantly awful person in the Second Season - I've heard people say before that Tommy leaving the field after his assassination was prevented would have been the perfect ending to the season, but that scene at the end where he returns to The Garrison and announces he's getting married seemed really hastily tacked-on - I feel like it was added because they were forced to rewrite the drafts for Season Three and put whatever plans for May they had on the shelf. Not to mention, Grace's actress Annabelle Wallis has apparently stated she hates May because she's "annoying" and "gets inbetween Tommy and Grace". No, Grace got in the way of Tommy and Grace - she's the one who chose to leave Birmingham after she got exposed as a Mole instead of taking the consequences! And also, how is May the annoying one? At least she doesn’t whisper all her lines. It's just so immature of the actress to bash on the character and encourage ship wars, especially considering Grace comes out the winner of the love triangle, so what's the bitterness about? (I've not heard what her opinion is on Lizzie, but I doubt it's as hostile, because it's made obvious in the show that Tommy doesn't love Lizzie the same and the poor girl is constantly competing with a dead woman for her husband's love.) Plus, in Season Three, the wedding is all about not upsetting Grace, Tommy's family have to play nice with Grace's family, and Polly is once again the only person who knocks Grace's smug ass down a peg by reminding her that the family haven't forgiven or forgotten Grace's crimes against them - the only reason they're putting up a pretence of tolerating her is for Tommy's sake. Not hers. Not everybody in the world wants to accommodate Grace. Killing Grace was honestly the highlight of the entire Season, because I couldn't stand watching her smirking over how she got everything she wanted when she didn't pay for any of it. (Polly is also the only one who comments on how Tommy has conveniently forgotten all the shit she pulled on him and Tommy acts like she was a totally innocent bystander when she got killed and it’s like, no, Tommy, baby. Grace knew what she was getting into when she married him and he knew that - it’s pretty much common knowledge that everybody who is even tangentially associated with the Peaky Blinders gets hurt eventually, just look at how Ada was nearly gangraped even though she hadn’t been involved with the family business for two years.)

Come Season Four and Five and there's already a problem here - there is still more to talk about with Grace, even though she’s dead and Tommy spends most of Season Three rampaging over her death. But he just inexplicably won't let go of her. And again, this doesn't come across as Tommy being so in love with Grace he can't fathom a world without her, it comes off like her actress has dirt on the director or something. He constantly hallucinates the bitch, we hear her singing all the time, it's kind of implied that Tommy prefers Charles over Ruby because Charles a boy and has a saintly dead mummy while Ruby is the daughter of a former whore (not that Tommy doesn't love Ruby, obviously, because he absolutely does), and what really annoys me about Tommy hallucinating Grace is that she's the only character he does this with. He doesn't dream about Greta, his first love, he doesn't dream of Danny or Freddie or his mother. He doesn't even fucking dream about John! Remember John, Tommy's little brother he knew his entire life? Apparently nobody else does! No, it's always all about Grace, who keeps helpfully telling Tommy to hurry up and kill himself so he can be with her again. This doesn’t seem like an out-of-character, guilt-induced vision - it mimicks her attitude in Season Two, that nothing else in his life can be as important as she is.

And that's why I hate Grace. (Please don’t send me rude or hateful messages over this post, it’s just my opinion and it’s pretty much irrelevant anyway since I doubt Stephen Knight is going to stop using Grace up as some kind of martyred dead saint anytime soon. I just wanted to get this rant out of my system.)

[punkscowardschampions]

Lux & Amber

Lux: You missed [some dinner y’all have that doesn’t entirely suck] tonight

Lux: I tried to save you some but that’s already gone

Lux: anyway, can we talk when you’ve got a sec?

Amber: Oh no! 🥺 Thanks for trying to spare me tomorrow’s ‘feast’, I really appreciate the attempted save

Amber: I promised to stay here for a while longer yet, but we can talk if you’re okay with typing it all out

Amber: I have time to read, she’s fallen asleep

Lux: Awh, I hope your friend feels better soon!

Lux: Yeah, I can totally do it over text

Lux: It’ll be way less awkward for us both anyway, I think

Lux: What do you think about Dash?

Amber: everyone knows what I think about Dash…

Amber: I haven’t made any secret of what an asshole he’s been to me since we had sex

Lux: I’m not just asking to be nosy or anything like that

Lux: but he said some things that I didn’t think made sense and I just

Lux: idk, I don’t know if he believes himself or what

Amber: I think I know why you’re asking, which means I should’ve spoken up more about the lies he told me before then and who I’ve found out he actually is

Amber: he definitely wants to believe his own bullshit, I guess because it makes him look and feel better than the truth does

Lux: Maybe he still likes you so he’s acting out?

Lux: Not that that’s cool but I don’t know why he’s got you so wrong otherwise

Amber: making me look like the psycho ex girlfriend I never was and dismissing everything I say and do under that guise is easier than addressing his own behaviour

Amber: especially when there are so few of us trying to get him to change or be held accountable for how he treats the girls at the commune

Lux: That’s what I was afraid of

Lux: but your side of it undoubtedly makes a lot more sense

Lux: Thanks, Amber

Amber: No, don’t thank me

Amber: I should’ve stayed last night

Amber: known that this was gonna happen

Lux: No, you can’t be responsible for him, or me

Lux: and like you said, so many girls are okay with it, him, seemingly so

Amber: mama insisted I look after you and I clearly didn’t

Lux: You’re both sweethearts, but I’m not a baby

Lux: I should’ve known better

Amber: neither am I but I fell for it too, and I couldn’t have known any better than living alongside him for half a year

Amber: I just really wanted it to be true, what he was saying about me and that place, stupid of me

Lux: If it is that way for him, it sounds really nice

Lux: I think it is, but maybe that’s stupider

Amber: it’s that way for my parents and I thought if anyone could make me feel close to the same, he would, which sounds really calculating of me

Amber: maybe I did use him as badly and he does have a right to badmouth me, I don’t know

Lux: We all have expectations… surely?

Lux: That doesn’t mean either of us were in love with him or being crazy

Lux: What he said and then what he did didn’t match up, for either of us, by the sounds of it

Amber: Do you wanna talk about what he said and did to you?

Lux: It’s hard to work out what even upset me now

Lux: Maybe he did tell me from the start, so that is on me

Lux: I thought from how he was though, he’d want to see me again but when I asked he told me he was with someone else, then he was like, idk, acting like it’s his duty or something and it was really gross

Amber: Yara and her friends must have come back for the solstice celebrations, they never miss a party and he never misses the opportunity to be with her before she's gone again

Lux: What’s she like?

Amber: A free spirit

Amber: and every other hippie stereotype everyone expects me to be

Lux: Of course

Lux: well I don’t want to meet her, whatever he thinks

Amber: of course he wants you to meet her

Lux: He should just be with her then if she’s so cool and free

Amber: there's no scenario in which she'd wanna stay there with him or he's gonna leave with her

Lux: Love being what’s left

Amber: I'm so sorry, Lux

Amber: this is just my POV of them though, and I'm biased by how angry he makes me

Lux: It’s not your fault, this is just all what I was presuming and dreading before

Lux: He doesn’t like you either, so the truth should be somewhere in the middle

Amber: if he talked to me about any of it instead of about me to anyone who'll listen, he'd like me even less

Lux: I was supposed to be being extra vigilant

Lux: I knew this would happen

Amber: it's not your fault, he knows what he's doing, that's why he keeps it up and keeps getting away with it

Lux: It was my fault I got myself involved

Lux: It couldn’t be shown to me any clearer

Lux: I can thank him for that, I guess

Amber: Do you want us to help you find somewhere else to stay?

Lux: You don’t need to do that

Lux: Here is as good as any for now

Lux: I need to work on myself, not my surroundings

Amber: I know the feeling, but it doesn't stop me fucking hating living there sometimes

Amber: a lot of the time

Lux: I don’t like it either

Lux: I’m in no position to complain but it’s

Lux: a different dislike to home, but still

Amber: Any time you feel like complaining to me, I'm not in any position to tell you not to, it's all I do right now, I swear

Amber: but maybe it would be more helpful to admit that I'm also spending as much time as I can finding places that feel far away from it and meeting people who don't have the hive mind

Lux: It feels like everyone else LOVES it and the implication is I just don’t ‘get it’ because of my background and that’s my lack

Lux: It’s actually very similar in loads of ways and not positive ways, I would say but hey

Lux: School must help with that a lot

Lux: the kids at my church that weren’t homeschooled or quiverfull were just

Lux: such a breath of fresh air

Lux: the best friends until my mother caught wind and called them ‘bad influences’ or whatever

Amber: some of them are, but there are others who make me feel as 👽 as people in the commune do, I still have searching to do, I guess, before I belong properly anywhere

Lux: I feel that

Lux: Maybe Yara has the right idea 🙄

Amber: Shhh no, don't ever say that! And don't let me put you off, I'm sure if you met them you'd love them all and vice versa

Amber: it's gotta be a me thing because my favourite person in the world is someone I do nothing but argue with

Lux: I won’t love her now

Lux: It isn’t her fault but it’s too late for that

Lux: Is that his brother?

Lux: Not to be gossipy, but he had stuff to say about that too

Amber: I won’t push that introduction, but my school friends are a possibility, since you’re not planning to leave

Amber: Great, he’s made it about him, despite the fact he’s the one topic we don’t talk about, I should’ve seen that coming too

Lux: That, I would like

Lux: I’m not getting that reputation

Lux: He already called Nora boring despite the fact I think everyone knows why she’s here and why she’s shy

Lux: Oh he thinks it’s 100% about him, I did my best to politely say I doubted that very much but he wasn’t taking it in

Amber: Nora’s very welcome to come with you to hang out with us if she’d like, I don’t think she’s at all boring, or honestly even that shy

Amber: Dash can’t stand that she doesn’t feel at ease around him because that’s how he gets what he wants

Lux: Yeah, seriously

Lux: I didn’t even go there because I got mad enough without pointing out her discomfort/trauma around men isn’t about him and HIS feelings

Amber: Likewise my friendship with his brother isn’t anything to do with him or his business, but it’s the least important part of what’s been going on, so I wouldn’t be rushing to bring it up even if it was a conversation he wanted to and was mature enough to have

Lux: I don’t know what to do now

Lux: He’s not the devil

Amber: he doesn’t have to be a bad person to be bad for you

Lux: He did try to talk to me, get to know me, though

Lux: which is more than plenty of people here

Lux: and I’m not treating them like 👺

Amber: he got to know me too, for months, I thought we were genuinely friends and then I discovered how much of what he said was lies, and if that wasn’t bad enough, he stole my dad’s stash

Amber: getting it back is how I met his brother in the first place, not that I did, because it was long gone

Lux: I know you’re right 😞

Amber: Don’t you think it’s worse than being blanked? I absolutely wish he’d never given me the time of day

Lux: I wish I was there yet

Lux: but no, I can’t say I’m there when I’m just not

Amber: it’s okay, I’ve had longer and I still feel like the biggest idiot, maybe it would stop hurting if I wasn’t friends with his brother and going over to his house to make that boy breakfast in the morning but I don’t want to not do those things

Lux: I can get that bit

Lux: I’m already hating that girl I’ve never met because of him, and that makes me mad but there’s no situation in which he doesn’t get the win because if I tried to not hate her, that’s what he wants anyway

Lux: That sounds super cute though

Lux: despite the arguing

Lux: maybe that’s just how they were raised?

Amber: I don’t know how his brother doesn’t hate me, because I haven’t told you that’s where it happened, because I can’t believe anyone would seriously pretend someone else’s room was theirs

Amber: I can’t blame him for always being annoyed at me, I am at myself and my life, he must think I’m… well I don’t wanna put the words to what he could think

Amber: at least he says what he means and it’s real

Lux: He what?

Lux: Oh no that’s REALLY bad

Lux: his brother can clearly tell that that’s as bad for you too, and not your fault

Lux: well, worse, but even if how mad he was stopped him getting to that conclusion

Lux: I can’t

Amber: It makes no sense that Dash would do it for my benefit, I don’t even have a bed right now, I’m not gonna judge the state of his sheets!

Lux: That’s weird

Lux: like an inside joke with himself?

Lux: because presumably he didn’t think his brother would find out anything…

Lux: He should get a lock

Amber: Right? For it to be a fuck you he’d have to tell him because I did a really good job of tidying up before I left and he didn’t stop me

Lux: I do not like that

Lux: I’m used to having no personal space and nothing being your own

Lux: but that’s disrespectful, like a lot

Amber: me too and I couldn’t agree more, it gives me the ick

Lux: It’s real ick

Lux: sorry, I’m not trying to make you feel gross, it’s all him

Lux: it was just a room to you

Amber: it’s such a nice room, if I wasn’t high I would’ve questioned it

Lux: There was a lot I would’ve questioned on a normal night but I was overwhelmed

Amber: I know you said don’t but I hate myself for leaving you

Lux: Seriously don’t

Lux: that’s not what I want

Lux: I probably would’ve done it whatever you said

Lux: I hate to say that but it’s likely true

Amber: it was a drunk decision, I’m usually a better friend, I promise

Lux: I know you are 😌

Lux: you’ve been more than welcoming despite the fact your mom kinda forced you to 😅

Amber: When I get back we should go out, not only because if I see Dash I will hit him and my dad’ll be upset with me, but also to do something away from him and my parents

Lux: Yeah, I’m feeling that too, I do not wanna be here

Lux: where should we go? 💃🍸🍝🎬🛒💅

Lux: aside from breakfast, what do you guys do for fun?

Lux: I’ve barely ventured outside of this place since I got here

Amber: how unfair would it be if I woke up my sick friend to ask her what normal girls do with their Sunday evening?

Amber: we did go to the beach, that’d be cleansing for the ick

Amber: or we could do something neither of us have ever done, to slightly level the playing field, because you’ve been overwhelmed enough for forever

Amber: to make us feel less gross

Lux: Can we go to the beach

Lux: my favourite places we’ve lived were always by the ocean

Amber: That’s what I was hoping you’d say!

Lux: 😁🥰🥳

Amber: the minute her mama is through the door, I’ll be out of it

Lux: I will aggressively be busy wherever he ain’t ‘til then

Amber: keep away from [wherever the hell Yara and her friends hang out on these grounds] and you’ll be fine

Lux: Thanks, I’ve got a bikini to find anyway, Lord knows I don’t have one

Amber: [obvs tell her where you hide your shit because that’s the kind of friend you are and it likely changes so other bitches don’t steal it]

Lux: Oh, that’s smart 👍

Lux: I’d get a lock for our room but I just know there’d be suggestions we could fit at least another 2 people in or whatever if we just made the effort 🙄

Amber: Thanks, I’d love to wear my favourite new 👗 everywhere but I know what would get said about that, and besides, it wouldn’t be the nicest thing I own for long if I did

Amber: I’d offer to sleep on the floor but unfortunately I’m too small for that suggestion to really silence the others

Lux: Not for the beach then

Lux: but soon, maybe with your friends, and Nora?

Lux: I could make a new favourite 👗 for the occasion

Lux: Don’t take this the wrong way but how tiny you are is adorable ���� I’m totally jealous

Amber: Yes, I know exactly who I can ask for a Nora friendly atmosphere

Amber: I’m ridiculously jealous that you can apparently make a new dress like it’s nothing, I couldn’t even make a sock puppet when the little ones asked me

Lux: 💗

Lux: It depends on your view of fashion

Lux: I can sew but I prefer ridiculously impractical stuff you would not see in any kinda store

Amber: it’s hard to see past the joy of clothes that haven’t been worn and washed so often it’s a guess what colour they originally were, for me

Amber: I don’t know how I feel about fashion, I like accessories though

Amber: and I’m a willing 🐹 … is that a hamster? 😂

Lux: I’ve noticed your collection 💎📿🧿✨

Lux: in an admiring way… not a thief one which that sounds like 😅

Lux: you can be my hamster

Amber: You can borrow any of them, except this one [a pic with a ring around the necklace her bae gave her duh]

Amber: okay, but what creature are you? Not a magpie, allegedly

Lux: Understood

Lux: ❌🦊🐺

Amber: that was his nickname for you?

Lux: Of course it’s that predictable

Amber: because he gave me one too, along with Yara and everybody else

Lux: He’s becoming less appealing by the second

Lux: just because it isn’t special or doesn’t mean anything to him, doesn’t mean he should assume it’s the same for everyone he ever meets

Amber: He made me feel so special, it’s embarrassing to even type out now

Lux: I’m right there with you

Lux: I can’t believe I decided to trust him, on any level but with that especially

Amber: I feel like I need to have sex with someone else immediately because him being the only person I have since we moved here is an honour he doesn’t remotely deserve, but I know I need to start making better decisions, so like, I can’t

Lux: Try him being the second person you have and both times went TERRIBLY and confirmed the sin to everyone and yourself

Lux: That’s great, thanks Dash 👍

Amber: I'm gonna kill him, my dad'll have to deal

Lux: Brooks will kill me

Lux: or give me really hard work as punishment, anyway

Lux: Let’s just go to the beach and hope he’s gone home by the time we get back

Amber: We'll find out from Finley when we're ready to go back and if he's still there we can sleep on the beach

Lux: 🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏽‍♀️

Amber: I like that better than when Dash's brother called me one of those spiky things that you tread on 😂

Amber: accurate but not very glamourous

Lux: That’s a weird way to flirt 🤔🤭

Amber: Well, I'm pretty sure he'd deny EVER flirting with me, even if we were the kinds of 🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏽‍♀️ who tried to drown him

Lux: Are they opposite brothers?

Lux: Dash would tell us he flirts with EVERYONE and to not be weird about it

Amber: I'm surprised Dash didn't compare them to the Oak and Holly King 🙄

Amber: but they truly are different enough for me to almost forget they're brothers

Lux: Currently I feel like that could only work in his brother’s favour

Lux: but all kinds of boys can be all kinds of jerks

Amber: It does, but you're right, I can't pretend he doesn't have his own moments of being an asshole

Lux: As long as the non-asshole moments outweigh them though

Lux: I think that’s an acceptable thing to be okay with, none of us are perfect, Lord knows

Amber: I hope they will, it's hitting me as I type this that I really haven't known him long, and it's strange, because it doesn't feel that way to me at all

Lux: It’s like that, sometimes

Lux: time isn’t always what matters

Amber: True, but another hope is still that I get more time in Dublin to spend with him

Lux: I haven’t heard either of your parents talking about moving… yet

Lux: I think your mom is getting a lot of women at her groups rn

Amber: and I haven't heard her arguing with Kai either yet

Lux: I don’t know if he’d be capable 🧘🏻‍♀️☮️🌼✌️

Amber: I wanted not to like him but I don't think I'm capable

Amber: he's made so much effort with me

Lux: It’s okay, I prefer your dad too 🤭

Amber: You're his ⭐🏆🥇 pupil, he talks about you whenever he's not teaching you basically, it's cute

Lux: He’s really helped

Lux: considering how little I knew, and still don’t

Lux: but I’m getting there, he knows so many good books

Amber: Not reading is THE thing he tells me off for and I can't 🥺 my way out of

Lux: I’ll read enough for the both of us 🤞

Lux: and at least I’m never bumping into Dash at the library 🙄😏

Lux: he talked a lot about how he hates school so

Amber: I found a boy to tutor me but I think I'm too distracting…

Amber: maybe you can do it when my dad is finished with you

Lux: We could help each other, maybe

Lux: I’ll do the 📚📏🧮📖 practical stuff and you can tell me about all the different places you’ve been and different people you’ve met

Lux: It might not be a totally fair trade-off but we had to budget and account for every hour of our day so math is pretty easy and all there was to do was read the approved books over and over so 🤷‍♀️ I don’t totally suck

Amber: unfair to you if you’re doing all the work and I’m just sitting there talking and talking!

Lux: That is work too!

Lux: There’s only so much reading about places and people can give me

Lux: You might be 👽 sometimes but that’s me 99% of the time 24/7

Amber: I’m not saying no, I love the sound of my own voice, famously

Amber: that’s how I got picked for nurse duty over our other friends

Lux: I don’t think that’s a problem, your voice is cute

Lux: but I promise I won’t be 😍 like your tutor

Lux: You must get it from your mom, your caring side

Amber: I definitely feel like an 👽 when I talk here, everyone has such defined accents and mine’s all over the place

Amber: oh god, he acts like he’s being tortured, I thought I was having trouble concentrating, but he’s got me utterly beat, I can’t do it to the poor boy any more

Amber: or from my dad, I don’t remember the last time he was like this about a student, when he is though, he really is

Lux: I can understand you, though

Lux: and I CANNOT understand so many people here it’s 😬😬

Lux: 🤭🤭 the power you have

Lux: The way I unintentionally sounded so rude to your dad there! 😨😅 my brain was fully on nursing but no, you can tell he actually wants to help me, for me, he isn’t getting anything out of it but the joy of loving what he does, obviously

Amber: There have been a lot of days I kinda wish they were forcing me to take Irish as a class the way they do for whoever is born here, but I doubt there’s any kind of glossary or key to unlocking the accent in the back of the textbook so it probably wouldn’t help that much realistically, right? Besides, I’m scraping by as it is without imagining extra work for myself

Amber: not the superpower I’d ask for, but one I have inherited from my mama, for sure, men are intimidated by her everywhere she goes and whatever she’s doing

Amber: like it or not, except I think she does enjoy having that effect, mostly

Amber: 😂 It’s okay, I won’t tell him any parts that aren’t complimentary 😶

Lux: That’s way beyond my capabilities, it’d be 😵

Lux: I bet they do have night classes though, when you’re not drowning in regular ones

Lux: I think I would

Lux: I can see the appeal, but maybe it’s the kinda thing you don’t appreciate if you do have it 🤔🤷‍♀️

Lux: ⭐️💗

Amber: I used to think I was into it but Dash’s brother isn’t intimidated by me in the least and I’m starting to like how that feels more, I don’t know

Lux: Like, comfortable?

Amber: I have no idea which words to put to it, it’s like, he’s actually fine with me being myself, even though I’m a mess, he isn’t just saying it’s fine while making me feel 👽 or stupid

Amber: honest maybe?

Lux: Y’all are cute 🥺😍 and I’m about it until he proves otherwise

Amber: I’m looking forward to making him breakfast and you know that’s not me at home

Lux: Okay but there are too many people here for that to ever be a fun experience

Lux: I wait ‘til everyone’s gone or busy doing whatever they do and have it in my first lesson

Amber: smart

Lux: but rude, and anti-social to boot

Amber: Ruder if you didn’t wait, Yara and her friends behave that way all the time, treating it as if they’re the popular girls sent to a summer camp

Amber: I’ve had to bite my tongue so hard so often because we’ve already had the argument and I know what she would say if we kept having it

Lux: 🤢🤢🤢

Lux: There’s zero chance I’m ‘hanging’ with them now

Lux: I didn’t want to anyway but of course he was making me feel bad and 👽 over that

Amber: if I could get away with throwing a party when she’s gone, I would, I don’t care how 👶🏽 it makes me sound

Lux: There is somehow 🍻🍷 left soooooo 😋

Amber: 🙃

Lux: I think we need to reclaim how last night turned out somehow anyway

Amber: I’m more than ready to do that if we can decide how

Lux: We’ll ponder at the beach

Lux: Btw, if you want, you can room with me and Nora for real

Lux: well, I will have to ask but like, she’s not gonna have an issue with it

Lux: I would’ve offered before but obviously some people like the whole couch surfing vibe and I thought that was you too

Amber: I don’t know what to say, I feel like I might cry for some reason that can’t be a hangover this late

Amber: it’s the kindest offer, I’m really touched, and would obviously love to

Lux: There’s definitely room for another mattress

Lux: we really want to paint it and make it cute, whatever people think, because Finley said he’ll pay for paint so then it’s not like, farm resources

Amber: What colour are you voting for? Nora’s gonna want [whatever colour is her fave idk]

Lux: 🤔🤔 okay hear me out

Amber: intriguing…

Lux: well if our beds are against separate walls we could have a wall each in whatever colour we want

Lux: it’d be nice if they looked cute together but anything is better than the terracotta and white splodges we have now 🤷‍♀️

Amber: Okay but you gotta help me pick or I’ll accidentally choose something that gives me a headache and have to sleep in sunglasses!

Amber: 🔵🌊💙?

Lux: OOOOOOOoooooo

Lux: a like burgundy, navy and then I could do a purple to pink energy to bring it full circle

Lux: that would be 🥰 I’m excited!

Amber: We can beach brainstorm

Amber: if you’re ready to go? [because why not show up like hey new bestie]

Lux: 🧚‍♀️

[myulalie]

On modern comment culture

First off, I’d like to make the distinction between honesty, and being hurtful under the pretense of being honest.

Hate, be it anon or not, is hurting someone’s feelings on purpose.

You can receive hate and be a hater too. It might be easier, even, to go from the hate you receive on your work, and take it out onto someone else’s.

Here is how I picture a hater's mind: “easy to pour some hate into a comment section, you don't see the person and they receive nice comments. They probably won't even notice.”

Sometimes, constructive criticism, even with your best interests at heart, hurts.

We don’t expect it, it’s not what we meant to write, or we just didn’t worry about how our work could be perceived.

It might be a very European vs American perception of criticism, and I aspire to get better, so the choice I made is to receive constructive criticism (concrit for short).

I wish someone would tell me if I’m writing something that doesn’t work, and why it doesn’t. I wish someone would point it out if I misuse a word.

Positive feedback is great and encouraging, actual comments about what someone likes/dislikes and why is helpful.

Not wanting any concrit is the author’s choice and I respect it. This is the reason I only offer concrit to anyone who told me they’re interested.

I wish concrit was still a thing

Modern comment culture is protective of authors, and there is a general agreement that concrit, especially unsolicited, is unnecessary.

I fully support the fact that fanfic authors are writing for free, so they deserve basic respect for their work.

This doesn’t give them the right to be assholes.

You put your work out there, you have a responsibility to at the very least let people know you’re not interested in concrit, and to disable/moderate comments if you don’t want them.

If someone comes to bug you when you explicitly mentioned you’re not interested in concrit then yeah, by all means, tell them to fuck off.

I think it’s important to let haters know their behavior is unacceptable. As they say, the only way to deal with a bully is to punch them in the face (or make them face the consequences of their actions as a general rule).

The author’s reply to hate tells a lot about them, but their reply to concrit also does.

Being polite should be a given.

And it goes both ways!

Readers are offering concrit for free too, they take the time to do so because they genuinely want to help. They enjoy your story enough to want to interact with you.

I’ve had a lot more comments than usual with kinktober, and I’ve built up a new habit of replying the next day before or after posting my daily take on the prompts.

I am aware that the amount of comments I receive is manageable, and some people have to deal with a lot more every day (like, hundreds).

In my experience, replying to short and sweet comments can be challenging because a simple thank you message isn’t personal enough, and you as a writer don’t have much content to actually reply to either.

Longer comments often open up more possibilities to reply, even if it’s just to let the reader know how you felt when reading their comment.

I believe that no matter how shy or busy you are, copying and pasting a little thank you message isn’t that difficult, and doesn’t take that long. You could even leave a note in each new chapter to let your readers know you read their comments and appreciate them.

Acknowledging readers will encourage them to comment your fics more, and potentially to the benefit of other authors too.

Don’t start fights because of concrit

Readers, please know that a simple heart as additional kudos goes a long way. Saying what you liked or just that you're enjoying the story is really encouraging too!

If you’d like to leave concrit, maybe formulate your comment as a question instead of pointing something out, to avoid upsetting the author.

I’m sure you mean well when you leave a comment, and you don’t want to discourage the author if you like what they’re writing!

If the author is open to concrit, they’ll probably reply to your question and ask their own, which leads to a conversation. Better safe than sorry, offer concrit and wait for them to agree, there is no use in getting into a fight with the author.

A better use of your time as a reader would be to read even more, I’m not getting in the way of your fun, or go and offer comments & concrit to someone who is interested in what you have to say.

As a writer, I guess you can always write more, and maybe thank readers for their kind words!

How to establish dialogue with your readers

Disclaimer: I’m still learning, and the amount of comments I receive compared to my free time is manageable. Before you proceed, please note I asked my reader for permission to use their comments as examples.

Myulalie: I would like to make a tumblr post about comments and include yours as an example.

It's to explain why I value them and how I proceed to reply, because I have strong feelings about author/reader relationships ^^

Would you be okay with that? It's totally fine if you're not, I am asking for permission because I don't want to make you uncomfortable.

Also, if you agree and for some reason change your mind once you've read the tumblr post, I'll remove it, no questions asked ^^

Reader: I don’t mind at all, I know a lot of people don’t leave feedback, for a variety of reasons, so any education in how/why is always important. I’m just glad my comments fall in to the good category 😁

Thanks for asking, you have my permission to use any you like.

The context is as follows: The characters went on vacation and asked friends to pet-sit their cats. I then used the characters’ cats as plot devices for the characters to move in together. A cat hid under the sink and refused to leave, which brought forth the “moving in” conversation.

Reader: Alcohol + other person = trautamised cat and an empty drinks cabinet... which I would be making them restock, oh and embarrassed friends... the cat might want to stay but I know the signs of a traumatised let.. sometimes taking a chance on something turns out to be the best thing in your life, so far, until the proposal

This reader is lovely and has been commenting on every chapter of this story, as well as some other stories. We never had any issue whatsoever and even chatted about their cat.

This is what I consider a good relationship, and when I read this comment I was surprised. I did not expect them to interpret the story this way.

The fact is, this reader is “wrong” because it’s not what I meant when I wrote (nothing happened to the cat, the alcohol part of the chapter is not related to the cat’s behavior).

This reader is also right because this IS what I wrote. The cat is hiding for plot purposes, but the plot also includes the pet-sitters getting drunk. I implied them making out, then regretting it later, thus behaving weirdly around each other, which was meant as comic relief.

I have seen replies to similar comments and needless to say people get into fights over such misunderstandings.

Here is my reply:

Myulalie: I would like to make the official statement that nothing bad happened to the cats D:

Ragnor & Jace's shenaningans were meant to hint at drunk making out and nothing more. The worse thing Church had to go through is second hand embarrassment I promise ♥ I can't bring myself to traumatise Church and I'm glad you pointed out that it sorts of look like something was wrong with him ^^ The only thing "wrong" is the plot device I used to have malec move in together haha :')

I appreciate this reader trusting me enough to point this out and letting me know how they feel.

I think it’s important to be aware of how this can be read. A beta would probably have told me how the chapter looked from an external point of view and suggested writing the same idea differently. As things are, I didn’t have a beta-reader for this fic.

Here is the reader’s reply:

Reader: Lol, good to know, although in my experience cats bring it on themselves, nosy little voyeurs that they are....

See how we solved the problem by simply having a conversation? This is why I appreciate concrit and do my best to treat readers well.

edit: upon checking in with the reader to make sure the post sat well with them, they told me they never meant it as criticism and actually found the chapter funny, their comment was written in a sarcastic manner that I totally missed!

There, you have it. I am full of good intentions and I still miss some of the meaning of the comment!

There was a second comment on the following chapter.

I’ll just mention that one of the cats dipped his paws in a can of paint and made a mess on the wall. One of the character makes a pet account on Instagram to post pictures of the cat’s “artwork” with paint.

Reader: I always love a story that ends on a happy ever after, although I do think alec was taking a big chance tying the rings to the cats collars, especially after the paint incident... we won’t go in to what I think of people having Instagram accounts for their pets, although the paining does sound nice...

This was a very cute story and I’m glad that they found their forever person :grin:

If you don’t get it, this reader and me disagree on pet accounts.

The fact is, they are allowed to express themselves, and they did it respectfully. I don’t think this comment is rude, and I don’t think this reader feels “entitled”. Quite the contrary, they’re polite and felt comfortable enough to let me know what they think.

I didn’t argue with them. My reply consisted in politely reminding everyone who might read this story that this is a work of fiction, and that it’s here for both the reader’s and the author’s entertainment.

Myulalie: Well, I definitely don't recommend doing your proposal this way IRL, fortunately stories are a safe space to make crazy proposals for entertainment's sake :')

I'm glad you liked the ending! Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me all throughout the story, I really appreciated our chats ♥

edit: I thought we disagreed. We chatted again and they told me they don't have IG so they don't see the point of running 2 accounts, which fair. Because I used to run a pet account for my dog, I felt "attacked" where I absolutely wasn't.

One more example of misinterpretation!

I think the only way forward is together.

Authors deserve respect for their work, it doesn’t exempt them from being polite. Readers might need some sort of education on “comment etiquette”, and should be respected in return.

I want this platform to be a safe space for authors AND for readers.

[kagehinataboke]

todo... baku... sharing a bed... i will die

wow i’m already dead, okay let’s fucking do this, ble ss

tdbk: [1] sharing a bed

***

It’s rare for a bus to break down. It’s rarer still for said bus to be full of amateur heroes, bone tired from a training camp and absolutely dead on their feet. It’s rare, but it happens—and when it does, overnight accommodations are unsurprisingly difficult to find.

Aizawa’s solution to the lack of rooms is to have everyone share via drawing names, which goes over well with everyone. Well, almost everyone. As expected, one specific person is very against the idea.

“Why the fuck am I stuck with this shitty Icy Hot bastard?!” Bakugou demands, nearly ripping his paper in half. Todoroki frowns, but says nothing in his own defense: saying something would only piss him off more. When Aizawa, too, remains silent, Bakugou whirls on the next closest person: Ojiro. “Tail, switch with me! Oi, don’t you fucking shake your head, Pikachu.”

“Kacchan, everyone has to stick with their assigned rooms—“

“Did I fucking ask you, Deku? Shut the fuck up.”

“Nobody is switching rooms,” Aizawa sighs tiredly, finally intervening. “Bakugou, you’ll room with Todoroki. No more complaints or you’ll sleep outside.” It’s a bit hard to take him seriously when he’s busy unzipping his sleeping bag. “Now everyone go to bed.”

Bakugou surprisingly doesn’t argue, but Todoroki can feel daggers being glared into his back. He’s used to Bakugou’s hatred of him, of course, but it’s still a little hurtful for someone to dislike him enough to find the idea of sharing a room together intolerable. Todoroki has never been directly confrontational to Bakugou, but everything he does seems to be taken as a challenge or insult.

He wants to get along: it’s troublesome always fighting. Unfortunately, the two of them are always in tense situations—like this one, for example.

“Why the fuck is there only one bed?” Bakugou pushes his way past the room’s threshold to gesture angrily at the, indeed, singular bed. “What the hell is this bullshit?!”

Todoroki wisely decides to stay quiet, but Bakugou isn’t done yet. He storms back out into the hall, no doubt to seek out Aizawa and complain again. Of course something else would go wrong: Todoroki can never catch a break where Bakugou is concerned. This will only drive them further apart. Not that they were close to begin with, but still.

“That motherfucker…” Bakugou returns looking none the happier and nails Todoroki with a glare that could curdle milk. “There are no other open rooms, so looks like there’s no other fucking choice.”

“No other choice?” Todoroki repeats warily. “Are we going to…”

“Don’t even finish that fucking sentence.” Bakugou pinches the bridge of his nose with the longest sigh Todoroki has ever heard. “I hate your fucking guts, but I can’t make you sleep on the floor. I’m not a complete asshole.”

There’s room to argue there, but Todoroki is more concerned with the hidden meaning in his words: They’re sharing the bed. Bakugou Katsuki, who notoriously despises him, is willingly going to share a bed with him. As much as he hates to admit it, Todoroki is the tiniest bit pleased.

“Now you’re making an annoying fucking face.” A scowling Bakugou shoves him onto the mattress. “Just lay down so we can go to sleep, damn Canadian-flag-looking bastard.”

Todoroki ignores the insult. Sleeping in the same bed is real progress, no matter how angrily Bakugou approaches it. Not that Todoroki is very excited about sleeping together with a guy whose favorite word is ‘die,’ but it’s still progress. Maybe this marks the end of their famed rivalry. God, the mere idea of no more morning “fuck you”s or “go die”s makes Todoroki want to cry in relief.

Unfortunately, he’s getting ahead of himself: Bakugou isn’t going to make things easy. “Turn around. Don’t fucking look at me, asshole.”

“Sorry.” Todoroki flips around, nearly flying off the bed when Bakugou’s elbow hits him. “Ow. I can’t stay on when you—“

“Shut up, I fucking know. It’s small, okay? Shit. Your knee is hitting me— I told you not to fucking face this way!”

“I can’t face the other way or I’ll fall. Ow, stop elbowing me.”

“Shut the fuck— Stop flailing!” Bakugou grabs both of his arms and tugs him forward, their foreheads nearly colliding.

Todoroki can feel open air at his back: the way-too-close edge of the bed. He expects to get pushed away any second, but Bakugou’s hands have locked on his elbows to keep him from falling. Neither of them are looking at each other, but Todoroki can feel a rapid heartbeat where his ear is pressed against Bakugou’s chest. “I’m… going to fall.”

“Shut up asshole. I’m holding you up, aren’t I?” Bakugou grumbles, tightening his hold. “Don’t move.”

Half of Todoroki wants to say something about how weirdly considerate he’s being, but the other half knows it’ll scare Bakugou off. It doesn’t matter that their hearts are both beating out of their chests, he tells himself. The way Bakugou is holding onto him is definitely progress. It doesn’t feel malicious at all: in fact, it feels almost peaceful.

Todoroki never noticed before, but Bakugou’s skin is warm, and he smells a bit like melting sugar. His hands are rough, but his touch isn’t harsh. It’s far too easy to drift off, even with repeatedly-grumbled warnings not to get too close.

***

“Oh my god, somebody get a picture.”

“Quick, who’s got their phone?”

“Shh, you’ll wake them up!”

Todoroki frowns at the overwhelming sensory information his tired brain is struggling to process. There’s warmth all around, light on his closed eyelids, and quiet giggles nearby. What’s going on? The last thing he remembers is… Oh yeah: he and Bakugou are rooming together. Bakugou most definitely isn’t the one giggling, though.

“What the fuck’s going on?” someone murmurs tiredly: now that sounds like Bakugou. Equally tired Todoroki decides its better to just keep sleeping. It’s too warm to get up yet.

“Get the fuck out!” Bakugou’s voice rises for half a second before he lowers it again. Todoroki realizes the warmth he’s feeling is coming from Bakugou’s arms as soon as they shift.

How strange to think that Bakugou’s actually being considerate—not to mention that he’s hugging Todoroki around the waist. Did he wake up beside a different person? Nope: “Scram before I fucking kill you all!” The giggling and whispers disappear, leaving behind silence broken only by Bakugou’s muttered swearing. “Fucking bastards…”

There’s a long moment of silence before Bakugou shifts again, carefully extracting himself from the bed. He pulls Todoroki forward to keep him from falling, but nothing else. There are several muffled curses and quiet thumps. The door clicks open and closed again. Todoroki opens his eyes to an empty room, and he’s mad for half a second that Bakugou plans to leave him to sleep—and presumably to miss the bus. Then he notices the drawn curtains and the blankets tucked around him. 

Did he really wake up next to a different person? Did Bakugou have a change of heart? Or, least likely of all, has he secretly been considerate all along?

Todoroki tries to puzzle it out while gathering his things, but a conclusion eludes him. Even on the way to the bus, while just ignoring everyone’s giggles and stares, he can’t figure it out. Bakugou hates him. Or, no… Can he even say that anymore? Probably not after last night. Are they still enemies? He needs to get to the bottom of this.

Bakugou is sitting in a spot in the very back of the bus, scowling out the window. When Todoroki approaches, he looks up with his normal icy glare. “The fuck do you want?”

“To sit. With you.” Todoroki silently takes the seat beside him, making sure to keep his eyes downcast. Best not to refreeze the ice they’ve just broken.

“Go fucking sit somewhere else, Half n’ Half. Who the hell said you could—“ Bakugou cuts himself off to glare at their obviously-staring classmates. After they quickly look away, he gives up on his rant with a tense exhale. “Whatever. Do what you want.”

Todoroki doesn’t say anything, settling against his seat to wait for the bus’ departure. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches a red-faced Bakugou glare at the window like it owes him its soul. It’s hard to tell, but he seems calm…ish? Maybe constipated? Todoroki is a bad judge of emotion.

There’s one solid way to tell if Bakugou’s hatred of him has subsided. Todoroki is a little afraid it will get him thrown out the window, but he’d rather know that he’s despised than have no clue where they stand, so he closes his eyes. The process of falling asleep on someone is much harder when you’re doing it on purpose. How do the shoulders sag? How does the head fall? Todoroki is thinking he’s doing a pretty good job when his head hits Bakugou’s shoulder.

There’s an obvious flinch; a loaded inhale; but nothing else. Bakugou relaxes again, as if nothing has happened. Then, a moment later, he adjusts himself ever so slightly to let Todoroki‘s head fall against the crook of his neck. That tiny act of consideration settles it: Bakugou definitely doesn’t hate him.

Maybe it’s because they’ve already spent eight hours crammed in a tiny bed together, but Todoroki feels comfortable when he starts to drift off again. Compared to the uncomfortable seat, Bakugou’s shoulder is soft and inviting. Even with the bumpy road and their nosy classmates, it isn’t hard to fall asleep.

[minttoy]

Daylight (Ch 3)

CHAPTER THREE

Summary: “She spent so much time counting her days. Finally, she sees her future clear as daylight.” - Linhardt helps Lysithea survive more than the war.

Pairings: Linhardt/Lysithea

Click here to read on FF.net.

Click here to read on AO3.

----------

Weeks later, she’s still flipping through the days. Some passages are easier to read and few of them trigger difficult memories. It’s a blessing she cannot recall most of the things written in these pages.

Lysithea must look particularly haggard this morning, because Professor Hanneman waltzes into the room and starts the day with a peculiar joke.

“Are you and Linhardt married, by any chance?” he asks, a smirk dancing on his lips.

She’s tired and has no energy to vehemently deny it. “No.”

He’s hardly fazed. “Engaged, perhaps? Promised to one another?”

She shakes her head. “Neither.”

“Oh, but there’s something there, correct? The two of you seem to enjoy each other’s company.”

She does not remember Hanneman being this nosy. Perhaps Professor Manuela has been rubbing off him. “There is nothing between us,” she says, the words rolling lazily off her tongue. “We are not married, nor engaged, nor promised. We don’t talk about kids, or money, or growing old together. None of that.”

Poor logic at its finest, but she’s willing to admit it escapes her temporarily.

“Can I safely assume you two are not sleeping together?”

She startles, spilling a portion of her teacup as she brings it to her lips. “Excuse me?”

“Hmm.” He scratches his beard. “I suppose not.”

Lysithea hisses as she registers the burn from the still-hot tea water.

“Is there a point to this?” she inquires, holding back none of her irritation. With a sleeve, she wipes off a stain from the front of her shirt.

He shrugs loosely. “Perhaps.”

His response incites a harsh glare from the girl, but it does not last long. She reaches for her handkerchief across the table to pat down her skirt.

“This is highly inappropriate, especially from a man of your stature. I would appreciate if you were more respectful and unassuming of my relationships,” she says distractedly. “We share common goals and interests. There’s nothing beyond that.”

The suggestion was never meant to sound romantic, but she realizes in hindsight how it can be interpreted as such. Hanneman knows it too and raises her a brow.

“Linhardt is my apprentice and I know him very well,” he starts. “Believe me when I say I have never seen him more committed to anything than he is to you, my dear.”

She peers up at him briefly, and then back down to the soiled handkerchief in her hands. It’s easier to focus on other things when her face is flushed pink.

Hanneman continues, “I know what it takes to renounce one’s nobility – I’ve committed the act myself a long time ago. You give up almost everything. The people you call family, inheritance, prestige and status, the place you consider home, even a bit of yourself...” He shakes his head solemnly. “…it’s unfortunate. Despite all of that, at the end of the day, you are still the selfish one.”

Her gaze is trained to the wooden table, but she’s listening.

“My point is, I am certain Linhardt sacrificed much to be here.”

She blinks twice and looks up. “What are you insinuating?”

Her inquiry is blunt, but it’s not meant to accuse or invoke tension. The entire exchange has her squirming in her seat, even if he’s only protecting him.

“I am simply curious of his motivations,” the older man explains, meeting her gaze. “That boy is difficult to inspire and persuade, and I’ve seen it firsthand. I thought maybe you’ve done something to fuel his sudden ambition.”

She narrows her eyes. “I always assumed he took this up on his own volition, but I’m also willing to admit it’s a little far-fetched. If you’re wondering about monetary incentives, I’m not paying him or doing him any favours.”

“I never even wondered such a thing.”

She considers the idea once more. “…is it something I should be thinking about?”

“Heavens I hope not, or I would be sorely disappointed,” he scoffs.

“So what is it then?”

“You tell me.” Hanneman arches a single brow and presses further, “You said yourself the nature of your relationship is strictly business. Nothing personal beyond your collegiate partnership. Isn’t that right?”

Lysithea processes the complicated thought and attempts understanding for herself, wondering why this conversation keeps circling back on itself. The reason she keeps finding herself here.

Why do I feel like running.

She crumbles underneath his sharper gaze. “…that’s right.”

He leans back in his seat. “What’s your take on it?”

The question lingers.

“I don’t know,” she tells honestly, after a pause.

Silence envelopes them briefly.

“My apologies, child. I don’t mean to push you.” His gloved hand goes to her shoulder, and when she chances a second glance, his gaze is visibly softer. “It just warms this old man’s heart to see two of his students here at the monastery. There hasn’t been this much excitement since…well, a long time.”

She sighs, “Do you have to be so meddlesome?”

He feigns an affronted expression. “Can you blame a researcher for inquiring? I was simply…stating my observations, if you will. Did it come off as imposing? Forgive me.” His lips tug to a small smirk under his moustache. Unapologetic, despite what he says. “I admit. Occasionally I delight in wishful thinking. You see, Linhardt reminds me of my younger self. Fascinated with crestology, how it shapes the world’s foundation and transforms the individuals within it. Regrettably, I missed things because of it. The more I devoted myself to research, the more other dreams slipped further from my reach.”

Lysithea frowns and raises a brow.

“Before I pass from this world, it would give me great gratification to know he pursued such dreams. This applies for you as well, actually. Chase your ambitions, but don’t skip on life. You should get married, take care of each other, and have children. Research is its own reward, but I believe there are greater, more joyful things in life. Take this as advice from your old teacher and mentor.”

“Your advice is oddly specific,” she points out.

He laughs, characteristically barky, but jolly nonetheless. “I expect an invitation to your wedding when it comes.”

She breathes a lengthy exhale and loses her patience. Hasty, she downs the remainder of the hot tea and gathers her papers in her arms.

“That’s enough. I am done indulging in your strange and improbable fantasies–”

“Improbable? I beg to differ.”

“–I have little time as it is! We need to get back to work.”

He smirks at her attempt at scolding. Young, impulsive and puppy-like. A coping mechanism, he realizes. He indulges her anyway, gathering a portion of her file and adjusting his monocle.

“As you wish, my dear.”

----------

Lysithea is in the middle of bookmarking old texts when she hears it. A small gasp, barely even an audible breath, in the midst of the crest analyzer’s machinal sounds. She peers to the side to investigate the small commotion, observing the subtleties in Linhardt’s bare expression.

“What is it?”

He swallows hard and stares with furrowed brows. “This sample, it’s…crestless.”

His lack of energy casts a measure of doubt, but she strides over anyway. Wordlessly, he hands her the glass slide containing a drop of her blood and she runs it through the analyzer herself.

She waits.

Nothing.

No symbols appears before her.

No Charon.

No Gloucester.

No crest.

The blood is pure.

She feels her stomach drop. Her knees grow weak. She pans over to green-haired man, who jots down notes with a nonchalant flair. For someone who just reached his first real breakthrough, he is severely lacking in enthusiasm. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion.

“What does this mean?” she asks.

“It means we’re moving in the right direction,” he says blandly, not looking up.

She blinks at his aloofness, wondering what goes on in that tired and brilliant mind.

Linhardt finishes writing, flips the book shut and yawns into his hand. He finds her muddled expression.

“I’m not satisfied just yet,” he explains quietly. “On the bright side, it seems the formula I used on this particular sample yields promising results. I’m willing to test it on others to ensure it has the same effectiveness.”

He’s withholding himself, it seems. Saving the joy until the work is finished.

“I could draw more blood,” she offers, matching his tone.

He gives her a sheepish frown. She hides bruised arms under her sleeves.

“Please and thank you.”

She turns on her heel, and he catches her wrist when he realizes what she’s doing.

“It can wait until later. You’re tired,” he says. “I have to compound the serum again anyway, which will take time.”

He offers her a smile and she returns it.

----------

The three of them continue to work on this breakthrough. Linhardt, after studying the entirety of her file, is approaching the research with a medical lens. It’s apparent her crests were introduced like toxins to the bloodstream. She either rejected the virus and died, or survived the implants, forcing her crests to co-exist in one body. He intends to remove it the same way, coming up with a formula to dissolve her crests, akin to an antibiotic treating bacteria and disease.

Hanneman almost forgets he’s a proficient healer, well-versed in medicine and its properties.

That’s how they got here. Linhardt sitting on a chair, visibly pale and nauseous, hesitating to offer his arm. He was the one who suggested it – he and Hanneman offering their own blood to the cause, and hoping the recipe can eliminate their crests as well.

“I’m ready. Give me your arm,” she says.

“Please be gentle. The sight of blood makes me uncomfortable.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’ve been working with blood for several months now.”

“That’s different. I dislike watching it spill from the body, especially my own. I should add that needles are frightening as well.”

She gives him an annoyed look, hoping it’s enough to get her message across.

“Do you want the sample or not?”

“I do.”

“Then get over it. It would have been done by now if you stopped whining.”

He takes another deep breath, closes his eyes and finally stretches his arm. As she rolls his sleeves up, another thought flashes and he whips back the limb.

“Linhardt!”

“I’m sorry. Please don’t poke hard. I’m lightheaded as it is.”

He’s pouting, the most childish he’s become as of late.

“If you stay still, it won’t hurt as much.”

He gives her a suspicious eye.

She decides to change tack, softens her gaze and bends down so they’re at eye level. “Hey, I’m good at this, remember? It’ll be quick. You can trust me. I’ve done it on myself several times already.”

The reminder is stinging and leaves with him little choice and room to complain. This time, he offers his arm without another word.

The process is seamless and efficient, just as she promised. His veins stand out against his pale skin and he doesn’t tense when she rubs alcohol on it. He looks away and holds his breath when she punctures his skin. For him, it seems like an eternity until the needle is finally removed, and replaced with the pressure of her fingers. He lets out a long sigh of relief, and sinks down in his seat as if he’s been through a terrible ordeal.

He finally has the courage to look up and finds a smirk on her face.

“What?” he asks.

She removes her gloves and pats his head like she’s proud of him. “Such a good boy. I knew you could do it.”

He scoffs, “I am not a child.”

She laughs, and tips her head to a box on the nearby table. “I got you sweet pastries from town as a reward. Do you want it or not?”

He lights up, betraying himself. He doesn’t think he’s enjoyed her company more. “Yes, please.”

----------

The next step is obvious: a trial.

They’ve agreed to everything so far, but now there are three branches of thought.

Linhardt prefers to experiment with other crest-containing blood samples, reasoning they lack a sample size worthy of definite conclusion.

Hanneman insists on keeping the research between the three of them. This experiment will not be approved in the eyes of people in power, except maybe Edelgard herself.

Lysithea is growing increasingly impatient. Many months have passed since she’s made the monastery her second home and she pushes for the trial herself.

After much hesitation and few heated debates, they agree to one trial. The infirmary is turned upside down. It takes an entire day to prepare the room and concoct the mixture. Beds are moved, shelves restocked and the space is nearly emptied. A plan is devised if things go awry and her body rejects the serum. They don’t have the luxury of test subjects, Lysithea being the only one.

For all the irony in the world, the procedure is alike to blood reconstruction surgery itself. Linhardt admits he took inspiration from the mages to devise the method.

“If you have discomfort, I need to know. You have a penchant for acting stronger than you feel,” he says rather bitterly.

She stops poking around her arm for a vein and glances at the green-haired scholar. Unusually tight-lipped, rigid features on his face and posture incredibly stiff. He’s handling his instruments with a chaotic energy, revealing a side of him that hardly surfaces. He’s irritable and exasperated, which is far from his usually lax demeanor. She’s only seen it a handful of times.

“You agreed to this,” she reminds, matching his tone.

He still cannot look her in the eye. “Not willingly.”

“Don’t start with me,” she warns, keeping her voice low. “We fought about this already.”

He shrugs with nonchalance, and from her perspective, it’s kind of infuriating.

“Hmm. I still think we should wait,” he says, just for the sake of reminding her.

She tries to smile, but it comes off sarcastic and phony. She wonders how apparent it is how much she wants to pull her hair out right now.

“Too late,” she says, knowing how petty it sounds. “It’s happening today.”

“You can still back down. I won’t blame you,” he offers again.

She shakes her head and counters with a firm and decisive, “No. I won’t do that.”

He heaves with frustration and finally looks down at her. She meets his intense blue glare with as much defiance she can muster.

“You’re being impossible. I’m starting wonder if you’re doing this to spite me,” he delivers harshly, in a way he’ll probably regret later. Afterwards, he mutters some excuse about retrieving something from the lab and leaves the room in a matter of seconds.

In the deafening silence that follows, she stares down at the floor, heart suddenly weak and eyes glassy. Her breath is shaky as it comes out. Just as she expects, the feeling of scorn quickly fades into nothing, leaving a pained and bleak disposition in its place. She rubs her eyes before she crumples into a sobbing mess. These recent spats all end the same way. Her coming up empty, instead of angry.

“This will mean nothing later,” Hanneman reassures, suddenly beside her. “Both of you are stubborn. You only fight because you care for each other. If it helps, try to remember what got you here in the first place.”

Her breaths even out slowly. “…I don’t want to fight anymore.”

He shrugs. “You have to work it out somehow. Waiting is safe, but there’s no use dallying and delaying progress either.”

“Am I being unreasonable?” she asks in a whisper.

Hanneman sucks in a breath, and contemplates for a moment.

“It’s…difficult to say. I’m sorry, child. I don’t have all the answers.”

They resume in silence. She tries to pretend it never happened and connects herself to the machine. Linhardt returns a few minutes later, all traces of hardness on his face gone.

She tries not to look his way, except when he stands in front of her.

Their expressions mirror each other; remorseful and apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers first.

She shakes her head. “It’s my fault. I’m the one pushing you.”

He dismisses it with a shrug. “We’re in this together.”

It eases few of her worries, enough to breathe easy. He gestures for her to take a seat so he can prime the infusion. She obliges without complaint.

“Tell me if you feel anything.”

“I will.”

After what seems like an eternity, it finally starts running. Linhardt gives her a quick onceover before taking the seat beside the professor, opening his book for notetaking.

Somehow, it feels like her last day on earth. She’s waited and dreamed of this since being told her days were numbered. Lysithea shakes her head, tries to throw off the memories.

Fifteen minutes in, there’s a sting in her arm where the needle is located. She tries not to hiss at the pain, but it becomes difficult to hide.

Hanneman sits up, the first to notice. “What’s wrong?”

She grits her teeth. “My arm is sore, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Linhardt stands, puts away his notebook. “We should stop it.”

“No! I can take it. This is–”

She stops as an abrupt, sharp pain sears the nerves up to her shoulder. It’s burning all of a sudden, and flaring with heat and spasm. Lysithea doesn’t scream, just a gasp and a choked-off cry, but somehow that makes it worse. She winces and folds in on herself.

He stops the machine and disconnects the tubing. That alone eliminates the sharp edge of the burn, but leaves a throbbing cramp in its wake. She collapses backwards in her seat, arm splayed limp beside her.

He’s giving her a look or reprimand, but as far as admonishments go, it’s a gentle one.

“Lysithea. This isn’t about being brave or strong. We only have one shot. If something happens to you, all of this would be for nothing,” he lectures softly, bending down to inspect for bruising or damage.

Hanneman hums in agreement and rises to stretch his arms. “The boy is right. Do not feel inclined to work beyond your limits. Our situation is risky enough as it is.”

She has no reason to get defensive. As far as she’s concerned, this is what she needs to hear. Beside her, she spies the faint glow of light. His magic is familiar to her now. She knows the feel of it: languid, light and listless. It induces a drowsy aftermath and she’s passed out from it before. It’s the work of his crest. Before she succumbs to its effects, she peers down at her partner.

“I really thought it would work,” she whispers, fighting the wave of exhaustion casted by the spell.

His gaze is surprisingly soft. “We’ll have to rework the formula,” he says quietly. Biting his lip, he casts his gaze down to her arm. “There’s a caustic burn on your skin. I’ll heal the nerves as best as I can, but I’m not sure about the scarring…”

She shrugs loosely. “It doesn’t matter.”

He says nothing back, watching as she enters a trance, wilting and slowly yielding to slumber.

“Can you be here when I wake up?” she asks, fighting off another yawn and blinking heavy eyelids.

He tilts his head to one side at the inquiry.

“Okay.”

It’s the last thing she hears before her vision goes blank.

----------

She’s plagued by nightmares, not waking until she’s seeing red and a silent scream is somehow working its way up her throat.

She lunges up from her bed, clutches the material in front of her chest and finds herself breathless. Her back is drenched with sweat and her hands are shaking. She stares blank at the window pane, catching sight of clouds filtering the light of the stars and moon. It casts a dark shadow upon the monastery and the surrounding forests. Slowly, the nightmare leaves her.

After that, she sighs. Lysithea looks down at her arms, one of them sporting an ugly reddened bruise and the other hooked up to a tube. Her gaze lazily flits upwards, finding herself linked to an assortment of fluids. Her head throbs wildly, more so than the fresh burn she acquired from the trial.

She’s alone, but hears the soft whirring of machinery across the hall. Mustering the strength to go, she drags the pole along with her and stops at the front of Hanneman’s office.

“You shouldn’t read in the dark,” she pipes up quietly. “It hurts your eyes.”

Linhardt startles and jerks lightly in the dim candlelight. He inhales deeply, and snaps his book shut.

“You should go back to sleep.”

She shakes her head. “Maybe later.”

He eyes her curiously, a long blue stare. “A nightmare, then.”

She shudders, and then absently presses her fingers against her throat where there’s a pulse. A cold shiver runs up her spine. Linhardt watches idly, staring into her eyes with question.

“It’s odd. I used to have nightmares about ghosts in my room, showing up late for class, or losing my teeth,” Lysithea starts softly, ignoring the constant thrumming in her head. “Nowadays, they’re more about feeling lonely, or losing control, or dying.”

He raises a brow. “Are you scared of dying?”

“I guess so,” she says, mild annoyance seeping through. She purses her lips, then shifts her gaze to the bookshelves. “It’s strange. I was going to die in those dungeons, and the only reason I didn’t was because I was so determined to see what life I could have outside of it, even if it meant surviving my crests. Gosh, I wanted to live so much, and still ended up dying.”

She says it with a hollow lightness, as if the whole thing can be a laughing matter. And then she’s shaking her head and rubbing her face.

“I’ve been counting my days ever since, and I’m sick of it. I’m so hopeless, and bitter, and lonely, and yet…I am still so, so terribly scared.”

Linhardt gazes with a rare tenderness. No words come to mind, so he says nothing.

Inevitably, there’s a long pause.

She drops her arms and unclenches her fists. Her expression is weary. “Do you have nightmares?”

He nods. “Occasionally. Mostly they are bloody visions of war – I wake up thinking I’m still in the throes of battle. To cheer myself up, I imagine myself lying down on a field of grass, in a place where I’m free to sleep, fish, or eat sweets whenever I please.”

She chuckles softly, “That sounds just like you.”

“Does your head hurt? I can help.”

“No, not right now. That magic of yours is like a sedative, and I…” She inhales and picks at her fingers, unsure how to say it. “I’d rather we just…stay, even for a short time.”

The air is so quiet and delicate she wants to bask in it. The lighting is dark, atmosphere thick but not stilted, and the whirring machinery drums like white noise. It’s just the two of them, but the silence is easy and comforting. They’ve let go of their posturing a long time ago. This is the most peace she’s felt in months.

This is what she means to say, even if he doesn’t get it.

He nods, and she’s grateful. Moving her metal pole in front of the sofa, she settles herself comfortably beside him and curls her legs underneath. He brushes off her earlier protest and picks up his book again, reading against the dim candlelight. Eventually she caves and tugs at his sleeve. Wordlessly, he settles the book in the middle so she can read for herself. The rest of the night is filled with silence.

He understands enough.

----------

[fmdmiru]

this is luna with my fourth and final muse!! i tried my best not to bring a fourth muse because i knew it would pain me, but i’ve been handling three muses quite well for ten months, and this muse idea wouldn’t leave my head for a good two (!!!) weeks so i couldn’t help but bring her in! anyway, this is 7rophy’s lead vocalist/lead dancer (every single one of my muses being a vocalist is sexy, ain’t it), miru shimazaki !! her basic profile is here, really few badly made plots are here and there’s a brief explanation of her beneath the cut. as always, just like this if you’d like to plot. mwah!

she’s a twin, and she’s always been second best so she has a slight (??? quite extreme actually but she won’t admit it) inferiority complex when it comes to her twin sister (or anyone really) 

the only reason she decided to become an idol is because it was the one thing she knew her sister would never think of doing before her !! when she heard dimensions was holding auditions, she went (super prepared because that’s just the kind of person she is) and got in!! she was like HA IN YOUR FACE

also lowkey dislikes her parents because she believes that they only paid attention to moe ⁠— her sister ⁠— when in reality, that’s not the case, but her now knowing just leaves more room for character development uwu maybe she’ll figure it out later

so she trains for about a year and a half because surprisingly, she’s kind of born to be on stage, and she debuts as 7rophy’s lead vocalist & lead dancer!

she’s also kind of upset that she’s not the main anything but gets over it later because she learns that she can still do great things as the lead everything. it’s not like she’s getting any less opportunities because of her position yknow

anyway she’s like in this foreign country for the sole reason of proving to her family that she’s finally better at something than her sister, and pepe is well received so she’s all confident, and then 7rophy basically goes nowhere for a good three years 

miru is kind of pissed, but she tries her best not to show it because it’ll make her appear weak to her family (her family really doesn’t care, and they’re worried more than anything)

basically believes that she’s a born to be idol, and she embraces it. gets called stan attractor for her never-ending energy on stage (she works hard because she wants to be noticed and pursue a solid solo career)

personality-wise: very ambitious and passionate about things that she believes in which in this case is her career so you definitely won’t see her half-assing anything when it comes to 7rophy promotions

that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a desire to do well as a soloist. not exactly a musical soloist because she doesn’t think dimensions will give her the opportunity (her being a foreigner and all), so she hopes to make it further more as like a model and just making a brand out of herself!

she literally hates getting involved in other peoples’ businesses. like she finds it troublesome and annoying because she thinks she has enough to deal with on her own! this also means she hates it when people get in her business because she thinks it should be nothing of their concern. (a little different from hyeju’s disinterest because hyeju is literally disinterested, but miru is kind of nosy and she wants to know what’s going on in peoples’ lives, but the moment it sounds troublesome she scoots out. just doesn’t want to get involved)

she’s very miss independent and doesn’t like depending on other people, and she also doesn’t like people depending on her

miru has quite a lot of confidence in herself, but she makes herself appear more confident than she actually is in order to mask the slight uneasiness she does have within. this may sound confusing, but like she may appear cocky, but she’s only half cocky??? this makes even less sense but i hope you all get what i mean 

also very over analytical so she’s observant and quick to read the atmosphere of a room. she just doesn’t comment on it because she doesn’t want to get involved in anything that will waste her time

she’s not exactly not nice like she’ll smile and hold polite conversation, but she doesn’t bother making a lot of friends unless she finds them beneficial in a way. like she’s not going to start talking about all her vent up feelings to you, but she’ll smile and wave. 

literally puts herself before anything else. like it’s her needs that come before anybody else’s, but rather than selfish, she thinks of it as survival skills. believes nobody else is going to be on her side, so she has to make sure to always be on her own side

i wrote that she’s a kiss up to people whom she believe can help her reach higher places, and she still kind of is. so she’s pretty sweet to people in the industry (or at least in public) because she thinks the connections will bring her more opportunities

she’s really weak with both compliments and criticisms. like she’s expressive with her emotions so if you compliment her, she’ll smile right away. if you criticize her, she’ll frown and then think about it for the next three months because she doubts your criticism lmao

7rophy is doing better, but now miru is forever concerned with how long this success is going to go, and so she’s focused on trying to make a name out of herself now. so if 7rophy ends up burning and crashing, she’ll still have a way to survive woops

[ko-fanatic]

Life is a Cabaret: Welcome to Berlin (Part one)

Rating: Mature (for series as a whole)

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of smoking

Summary: "There was a cabaret, and there was a master of ceremonies, and there was a city called Berlin in a country called Germany… and it was the end of the world. I was dancing with Kyoya Ootori, and we were both fast asleep…" - Kaoru Kelly-Hitachiin, 1931

A warning for those who aren't familiar with Cabaret: While this all starts out light-hearted, it involves some serious and disturbing topics later on. Warnings for: Nazism, racism, homophobia, antisemitism, violence, sexual harassment and other such issues. 

Kaoru crossed his legs at the ankle, changing his position for what had to be the fourth time in just as many minutes, his backside numb and pins and needles licking at his feet. The train from Paris to Berlin wasn’t the longest journey he’d been on, by far, but he couldn’t say he was a great traveller.

He should have purchased a novel other than the one currently residing in his suitcase which, despite it being by his feet and not put away above his head, he couldn’t be bothered to retrieve. Some political tripe that he thought he should familiarise himself with. Instead, he simply watched the grey smoke roll passed the window, listening to the sound of the train’s motion, and decided that it was – all things considered – a nice way to travel.

He wouldn’t make an afternoon of it, however; his derriere wouldn’t forgive him. He was just content to sit in his little compartment, partaking in some rather nice peace and quiet, gazing out of the window as green landscapes rolled by. Berlin might just give him the inspiration he’s been searching for; the city laying before him, ready to be made his muse. One successful (sort of) novel under his belt, and he should publish another before the promise the publishers talked of burned out. Not so much a supernova as a glowing cinder from the fireplace extinguishing itself on the stone hearth.

Still, Berlin was not only home to art, culture, history and excitement, but his dear twin brother. Hikaru had, of course, been rather insistent – it was like he never left, really. Seeing his brother’s excitedly scrawled handwriting proclaim the Berlin was a must, and that he’d certainly be able to take off the proverbial corset and relax for a while in one of the many famous cabaret clubs. Handsome men and beautiful girls wearing skimpy, lacy outfits and dancing provocatively. He was about as interested as any man would be; which was to say, very. It’d certainly be an interesting backdrop for the new novel, anyhow.

His introspection was interrupted by a knock on the sliding door to his compartment, a man with a somewhat unfortunate face standing there, a suitcase in each hand. His long, straight nose was slightly hooked, and he could only picture the villain of a talkie he’d seen back when he was in Ireland. It was a tad unfair, of course; especially because he hadn’t even given the man a chance to say anything.

“Belegt? Occupied?” The man asked, gesturing about the small compartment, and Kaoru shook his head in reply, only for the man to ask again, in English, “Is it permitted?”

“Yes, yes, by all means,” Kaoru confirmed, the man stepping in and sitting in the seat opposite, giving him a small smile that only served to make his expression more pinched. He set his two suitcases on the floor also, sighing heavily as he reclined against the backrest.

“Japanese?” The other man inquired, far more politely than some.

“I might as well wear a sign,” Kaoru chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “One part Jap and the other Gaelic. All I have to show for the other half is red hair and burning to a crisp in sunlight though, I don’t even hold my liquor well.”

The nameless man laughed, slightly too high and a little too sudden, but it broke the tension all the same. After all, having a sour face was not necessarily an implication of a sour personality. “German and Japanese, not that I have ever been outside of Europe. I take up residence in Berlin,” He introduced, holding out his hand for Kaoru to shake, “Takashi Ludwig Kuze.”

“Kaoru Kelly-Hitachiin, no permanent residence,” He responded in kind, firmly grasping Herr Kuze’s hand. Just as he did so, however, he heard the tell-tale release of stream, the train’s wheels grating on the tracks as the brakes were applied, the engine slowing to an eventual crawl. Just to make sure, he decided to inquire to his new, probably more informed companion, “Are we slowing down for the German border?”

Herr Kuze hummed, turning to look out of the window. He was apparently familiar with the scenery, as he soon confirmed the assumption.

“So, I assume you’ve made this trip before, then?” Kaoru supplied, trying to keep up the small talk before the conversation died and the compartment filled with stagnant awkwardness. Having not even fully entered Germany yet, it would be a nightmare to ride in cloying silence for the rest of the trip.

“Many times,” Herr Kuze nodded, reclining back in the seat once more, settling down as they awaited the conductor and the accompanying checks. Honestly, that was another thing Kaoru disliked about travelling, having to dig out his passport before he crossed any border; it always seemed to fall right to the bottom of his satchel. However, the man opposite cut through his mental rant before it gathered an unhealthy amount of steam, “You are a tourist?”

“Uh… Not quite. Well, that’s not the full picture,” He dithered, unsure if this counted as oversharing with a stranger, “I’m a writer, and I give Japanese lessons. I just needed a little more inspiration for my next novel… Something I’m rather lacking, apparently. Care for a cigarette?”

Herr Kuze didn’t seem all that interested, most of his focus directed at the view out of the window. It was rather beautiful, Kaoru had to admit, but green fields had also been a staple scenery in Ireland, it wasn’t all that dissimilar. Not to mention that the other man had made the trip many times, so surely the intensity at which he was taking in the view was a tad unwarranted? Still, he could’ve taken the trip that many times because he was fond of it, he supposed, and so he spoke up once more.

“Herr Kuze?” He was at least acknowledged this time, snapping the other man out of the thoughts he’d obviously been invested in, Herr Kuze turning to face him again. A hum, and Kaoru continued, holding the case up to him, “Would you like a cigarette?”

“Oh, no thank you,” Herr Kuze waved away. Kaoru just nodded, returning the cigarillo box to his breast pocket, the compartment falling silent once more. It was that odd space that felt vacant of words, unsure of what to say to a stranger; a touch of anxiety and awkwardness. God knew that people didn’t like to be bothered while on the train, or so he’d learned during his time in London. Just keep your head down and carry on.

He didn’t have to endure the silence much longer, however, control officer making his rounds and performing his tasks. He could hear the strong, harsh syllables of German a little further down the carriage, and he once more attempted to dig out his damn passport. At least Herr Kuze was prepared, it seemed, already having it in-hand. Perhaps it was one of the skills that came with constant travel; being able to locate your paperwork easily.

“Deutsche Grenzkontrolle,” Came a voice from the doorway, the control officer standing by the door to the compartment. Luckily, his passport finally came to hand, and he passed it to the officer. The booklet was flicked through quickly, the basics of his information scan-read, and he was handed it back with no fuss, “Welcome to Germany, Herr Kelly.”

He bit back the urge to correct the man as the customs mark was put on his bags without even opening and inspecting them. He knew the second half of his name stumped some people, and the man’s pleasantries were sincere. There was no point being anal about it.

Despite how lax his own checks had been, it seemed as though Herr Kuze didn’t have that luxury. While his German wasn’t terrible, the phrases spoken between his new acquaintance and the officer were too quick for him to truly understand. Lots of questions, a bag being searched, but he noticed that another bag had suspiciously joined his own. As the officer didn’t see it, they were both left alone once more in the compartment when the officer believed his work was done.

“I wish you’ll enjoy your stay in Germany,” The officer bid Kaoru with a curt nod, “And a most happy new year.”

The door to the compartment was closed, Herr Kuze retrieving his undeclared bag once more, and Kaoru’s curiosity was piqued. After all, Herr Kuze gave off an air of one with a straight-laced, law-abiding attitude – not to mention that, despite the unfortunate face and touch of social awkwardness, he seemed like a nice gentleman.

It didn’t help that the Hitachiin sense of curiosity and general nosiness was rather hard to ignore. While he was the most well-behaved between Hikaru and their mother, it was still a defining trait that tended to cloud his judgement and make him feel somewhat entitled to know what wasn’t his business.

“What’s in the bag?” He inquired, Herr Kuze looking a little unsure at that, almost nervous.

“Oh, err, just some trinkets from Paris, really,” He answered, “Perfume, silk stockings. Gifts for friends, but more than what is really permitted. You understand?”

He did. He’d also brought some things for Hikaru, although his budget didn’t really allow for anything too fancy. Some shortbread from Scotland, some sketches of the landscapes he’d seen, nothing costly. He’d be more than happy to see his brother again, anyway; even if he was the one with more expensive taste. It’d been a fairly long time, after all…

“Well, I guess I’ve done some smuggling myself, then,” He chuckled, happy to see that Herr Kuze had perked up at that.

“You are most understanding, thank you very much,” He enthused, a teeth-bearing smile on his lips that really didn’t help the sinister, rat-like look he had, even if the thought was impolite and unfair, “I would like to make sure that your stay is an enjoyable one, that Berlin will be a home-from-home. We’ll even start tonight; a friend of mine works in one of the hottest clubs in Berlin. Japanese theme, phones on tables, girls call you, boys call you and – instant connection. The best dancers, too; my friend was even famous in England for a while –”

“That’s very kind of you,” He interrupted. It seemed once Herr Kuze began to speak, he had an issue stopping. One thing did catch his attention, however; boys call you. He had no issue with homosexuality, obviously, but it sounded far too… open. Especially for what he was used to. But maybe Berlin was different? “I don’t have fixed accommodation yet. I’m hoping to share with my brother, but I’m not sure if he has the space necessary…”

“Well, you see, I can remedy that also. Herr Morinozuka has the finest residence in Berlin, and inexpensive also. Just tell him I sent you, and he’ll be most amenable,” Kuze insisted, scrawling a name and address on the back of a business card before handing it to him. Takashi Morinozuka, huh? “After all, people can be oddly picky over residents. I’m sure you understand my meaning…”

He did. His Japanese heritage would probably be the most hindrance, but the Irish in him wasn’t particularly helpful, either. Hunting for a room would have to take these into account, and if Morinozuka’s rooms were in his budget, then it would be easier.

“Thank you very much, Herr Kuze,” He smiled, holding out his hand for the other to shake, “I’ll certainly have to visit the club you mentioned, also.”

“No need to thank me. New country, and you already have a fine place to live, your first friend, and perhaps even your first Japanese student,” Kuze enthused, shaking his hand, “Welcome to Berlin, my friend.”

Yes. Welcome to Berlin, indeed.

[sasha-rochester]

Dossier #2

Marcelloix Noudenet (@andarion) Observations:  Clever and quickly able to take charge when it’s necessary. Polite, sociable, and well liked among the association. He certainly seems to be a reliable member, and isn’t afraid to take the initiative. I appreciate that. Thoughts: By now, the initial dislike I had for him is gone. I understand he is someone who is merely defensive over his assets, and understandably so. He’s still cunning, and very effective when it comes to discreetly taking care of potential problems. We seem to get along well, and he certainly doesn’t mind stirring the pot when it’s necessary. If I didn’t have to keep a leash on D’hio, I’d certainly appoint him to be my right hand.  K’alya Basari ( @swordandpen ) Observations: I have finally struck a deal with her. My previous assesment was correct--she seems to care little for the dance of sociability and charm. I don’t really think that she sees through it, I simply think that she doesn’t care. As far as she’s concerned, you’re wasting her time by attempting to entertain her.  That’s fine by me. At the end of the day, she will unknowingly take care of an enemy of mine while making her business grow in Ul’dah. Two birds with one stone.  She also seems to surround herself with company one might see as distasteful, but I can’t really criticize her since I’m not really better in that aspect. Thoughts: I appreciate her brutal honesty, in a way, it’s refreshing not to go through the same song and dance with every individual I meet. For now, I think her and I see mostly eye-to-eye on professional matters. Anthony  Crawford ( @aegir-ffxiv ) Observations: He seems to be very excitable, friendly, and sweet. It’s almost as if Ul’dah hasn’t quite jarred him yet. He isn’t as cutthroat as his brother, but he’s certainly very clever. I also appreciate his enthusiasm towards new business ventures--A spirit of initiative is certainly something he doesn’t lack.  Thoughts: I really do like him. He’s endearing, in a way. I almost have the impulse to befriend him. Almost. I admit some of his attiudes have caused me to crack a smile and even laugh before. He’s not really a concern, but sometimes I wonder where the real Anthony ends and Maximillian’s Anthony begins. I will speak of this further in my next entry. Maximillian Crawford Observations: I don’t mean to be the pot calling the kettle black, but goodness, he’s arrogant even by Ul’dahn standards--To the point many people might see him as rude. Perhaps I’m being harsh, but he could have at least shaken my hand after having a business meeting. For his sake, I hope he learns a thing or two from Anthony, he seems to be the more charming one of the pair. That said, Maximillian seems to be very controlling of his brother, perhaps even possessive. I recall his expression when they were separated into different teams during our last event, and he seemed... Displeased. Normally I’d say it’s a very close attachment to his brother, but in context, it just seems like the personality of someone who is overly controlling and domineering. I’m sure he is attached to Anthony, after all, they are brothers... But this attitude reminds me of my mother. I chalk it up to him thinking he always knows what’s best. This may be a hinderance upon Anthony’s development as a person. Externally, people might think Anthony is the least stable one of the pair, but I think otherwise. It doesn’t seem entirely healthy. Mayhaps I’m too judgemental. Thoughts:  Despite his peculiar attitudes, I will give credit where it’s due: He is certainly cunning, and has a mentality that seems to be very aggressive when it comes to business. In that sense, he reminds me of D’hio a bit. In conclusion, Maximillian reminds me of two people who tried to kill me in the past, which doesn’t paint an entirely flattering image. I don’t see him as a threat, but I will certainly keep a close eye on him. I can’t say I entirely trust him. D’hio Maimhov Observations: One would think that after I’ve been hosting him in my manor on-and-off, I’d have more observations than: “I don’t trust him” or, “He’s just biding his time to try to ruin me.” But no.  I still don’t trust him, and I fear he tries to steer me away from the association. We all know how it starts, a nudge here, a whisper there... He is well versed in the arts of manipulation. Still, I’d be remiss if I didn’t aknowledge that so far he has been very cooperative, but I know he will only remain this way as long as I have something he wants. At least he’s talking to X’elo again. Thoughts: Perhaps I’m being harsh, but I could have him chained to a wall with spikes under his feet and I still would see him as a threat. I know he’s an opportunist and I know that he would throw me into the abyss if it meant benefitting him. I will never take my eyes off him. Not for a second. Sylastair Wolfheart ( @sylastair ) Observations: The more I see of him, the more I see him as a threat. He has this ability to turn the tides in a room in his favour, all while seeming harmless to those around him. It’s certainly an admirable skill, but one I fear to have in an enemy.  He is able to take tense situations and quickly diffuse them with his laid-back attitude, friendliness, and humor. Very clever.  Thoughts: I need him on my side. Of all the people in the board, he is the biggest threat because of his ability to influence people--Even though he doesn’t strike me as the type who wants to be a leader. After all, his facade relies on him seeming harmless, and having a position of blatant influence would immediately make others watch him more closely. I’ve done my research. I know he is in trouble with certain criminal groups in Kugane. I also know his casino is caught in the middle of a monetary battle of sorts. This situation can work in my favour if I offer to aid him, I just have to make sure I won’t get dragged into a bigger mess if the situation spirals out of control. We’ll see. Vilde Eres ( @vildexiv ) Observations: He’s always quiet. He seems to care very little for wealth or power, which is why I’m surprised he’s still in the board. He seemed open to business, however, though I admit I had to paint a picture of generousity and kindness for him.

Thoughts: I can’t be fully honest about my intentions with him simply because we don’t see eye to eye. I care about gil and power, he doesn’t. Professionally, a difference like this can lead to problems if not approached with caution. I don’t think he’ll be terribly opposed to my tactics as long as we share some common ground, however, so I’ll maintain the steps I’ve been following for this dance so far. Drakkaern Vesperius ( @theexplodingdragon ) Observations: His ego seems to be as large as it is fragile. I knew Caorline would attempt to push one of hers towards me, but I expected someone more like Milo. Drakkaern is nothing like Milo. Perhaps all Caroline cares about is academic excellency, frankly, it doesn’t surprise me.  He’s intelligent and I appreciate the fact he is always present during meetings, even if he is probably spying for Caroline. At this point, I do not care. I need to commission him soon, anyway. I do often wonder how much information Caroline has fed him, and the thought honestly infuriates me. No matter. I shall keep my personal thoughts separate from business. Thoughts: On rare occassions I do think I can overlook his alliances and see him as a potential friend. He is well mannered, cultured, intelligent, and dominant when necessary.  I need to commission him for the association soon. We’ll see. He’s the member I’ve spent the most time with, and yet, I feel like I know him the least. He’s also very nosy, but that doesn’t surprise me from one of Caroline’s favorites. Anyhow, this concludes this dossier. I will continue to study every member closely. 

[thelcvewitch-blog]

About Claudia Daviau

GENERAL

FULL NAME

claudia adina daviau

NICKNAME(S)

cloud, dia, dee

AGE

thirty-six 

BIRTHDAY

august 7th

GENDER

cis female

PRONOUNS

she/her

FACE CLAIM: Gal Gadot (Adult), Adelaide Kane (Teen-Young Adult), Ayelet Zurer (Older than 40)

LIFESTYLE

LANGUAGE(S)

spanish, french, english, hebrew, and german.

EDUCATION

a phd in psychology (specifically, she studied criminal psychology, because originally she wanted to be a criminal psychologist)/ police academy

OCCUPATION

homicide detective

SOCIOECONOMIC STATUS

upper class

RELATIONSHIPS

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: gray-bisexual

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: biromantic

MARITAL STATUS: single and mingling 

PARTNER(S) coffee.

FAMILY

HOMETOWN

boston, ma

ETHNICITY

ashkenazi jewish, german, polish.

PARENTS

Ivan & Susanna Daviau (adopted); Steven Falk & Delphine Rosen (biological)

SIBLINGS

arabella daviau (adopted), rosemary daviau (adopted), claire daviau (adopted), ivan daviau ii (adopted), robert falk (biological), amada rosewell (biological)

CHILDREN

verse dependent 

PETS

a yorkie named ‘cerberus’ who she’s always walking

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC SIGN

leo

CHINESE ZODIAC

ox

TEMPERAMENT

choleric

MTBI

istj

HABITS

talking with her hands, creasing in her eyebrows, tapping on random surfaces, reading the newspaper in the morning, reading in general, closing her eyes to process or review information, crossword puzzles before bed, practicing conversations in mirrors, she's usually eating candy of some kind (lollipops are her go-to), using a honeyed tone of voice when she likes a person, quirking up her eyebrows.

HOBBIES

reading in the dead of night, crossword puzzles, jogging in central park, pilates

LIKES

puzzles, games, challenges, putting clues together, wine, her job, keeping busy, languages, "ah-ha!" moments, anything aesthetically pleasing, sarcasm, witty people, morning runs, people she can’t read, cleanliness, any sort of pampering, stealing clothes from dudes/chicks (she takes little things from people she’s fond of, whether the relationship is platonic or sexual), cooking (she loves to cook and watching people eat her cooking), keeping busy, dedication, the news, talking to her sisters, listening to others.

DISLIKES

mint chocolate chip ice cream, being alone for too long, people who chew with their mouth open, men who talk over her or don’t say excuse me when they’re walking past her on the sidewalk, people who are cruel to their children, nosy people, when people shove their beliefs down her throat, people who type too slow..

Normal Verse:

♦ At the age of two, Claudia was adopted by Susanna and Ivan Daviau. Susanna could not have children and Ivan wanted them. Both the Daviaus were attentive parents, even though they were busy with their own personal lives. Susanna, a former socialite, worked as a television host in New York city. Ivan worked as the owner of a hotel chain (The Daviau Hotel) and the owner of a few oil wells. They adopted other children, who they loved dearly, and were very supportive of Claudia while she was growing up. Since the Daviaus were busy people, when they weren’t around, the young children were usually in the company of nannies. Claudia found herself growing attached to her nannies and saw them as her extended family. And while her nannies were great and helped her grow into the woman she is today, they all would come and go throughout her life.

♦ One nanny in particular had grown rather fond of her, and Claudia grew fond of her as well. Her name was Lucinda and she would read with her and her siblings every night. A majority of the books were silly – mostly Dr. Seuss and Shell Silverstein. While others stuck with her and helped shape her adult life. Although the detectives in Nancy Drew and Sherlock Holmes were fictional, Claudia found their search for answers admirable. She began to pretend to be those detectives and began to search for the hidden truths and secrets found in the lives of people around her.

While Susanna thought it was wonderful that Claudia had found a new interest, she wanted Claudia to branch out and try new things. Susanna got her to try piano, ballet, fencing; but Claudia always wound up interested in her search for truth. The more Susanna tried to push her away from her new-found hobby, the more invested in it she became.

♦ During this curious phase of her life, Claudia learned her family’s picture-perfect life wasn’t as perfect as it seemed. With all this information in mind, she finally opened her eyes to the fact that the world was flawed and that everyone made mistakes. She found that beautiful, because she was reminded that no one was perfect.

♦ When she was thirteen-years-old, Claudia went to private school. It was this age where Lucinda quit to go live with her family in Mexico. The loss of Lucinda crushed her like nothing else had, but she trooped through it with the support of her siblings and parents.

♦ In private school, she was meant to learn manners and good behavioral skills. However, Claudia became even more invested in her education and speaking her mind. While making friends was hard at first, she managed to find a few people who were worthy of her time and attention. Being around this small group of people led her to believe that she really enjoyed talking to others and that she was interested in learning about what made her friends act the way acted and that pushed her to learn what made them who they were. Claudia’s friends helped her get in touch with a more humane side of herself, helped her become more charismatic, along with more open to others and their stories. In the end, though, she did choose her studies over her friends. With summer classes, determination and an intense dedication to her studies, Claudia graduated three years early.

♦ During university, Claudia focused on achieving her goal of becoming a psychiatrist. While attending school, Claudia found herself testing out the waters of various clubs, even joining a sorority for a short period. To her, university was freedom. It was a reminder of how much she could do to make something of herself. She was moderately homesick, though, and often wrote and called her family to see how they were doing.

Away from school, the start of her residency proved to much more exciting than she thought. Always on the move, always distracted, Claudia enjoyed keeping busy; it was one of her favorite things about her job. After receiving a job with the emergency psych unit and working her ass off , Claudia randomly decided she didn’t want to be a psychiatrist and decided to change her career path: she wanted to work as a cop. Having taken courses in criminal psychology and profiling, along with her prior credentials, it was something she planned on (but didn’t expect to happen) from the get-go. In order to follow this new path, Claudia signed up for the police academy. Much like school, Claudia dedicated herself to the academy and eventually got her badge. Though it took her a long while to receive her ‘land legs’ when it came to the occupation, her co-workers soon discovered her knack for profiling criminals and talking to the victims of crime. At first, she worked small jobs - like giving people tickets and stopping house parties - but eventually she made it to detective.

♦ Enjoying her work, she adapted to her new life and the excitement that came with it. She found a friend and roommate in a woman named Rachel and the two happily lived together. However, to her surprise, Claudia eventually ran into trouble with a man named, Jackson Kent. Jackson, an intelligent man with a fucked up sense of humor, got her mixed into a disturbing game of cat and mouse. While she was able to fend for herself and succeeded in catching the bastard – one gunshot to the knee - she soon discovered Jackson was only a small piece of an even bigger puzzle. What she was dealing with was a group of people being manipulated by one person in particular. And even though she had a long, serious, and angry conversation with Jack in the interview room about who the fuck that person was, she wasn’t given any answers. She was annoyingly given a smug laugh and a riddle on expecting the unexpected.

It took her roommate, Rachel, shooting her, for Claudia to understand Rachel was the person pulling the strings. Once Claudia learned the truth about her friend, Claudia felt stupid and decided to quit her job for a short period of time.

♦ She didn’t want to let Rachel win, however, so she ended up going back to work. With the support of her family and colleagues, she went right back into the swing of things with little problems. Now, not only does she put one-hundred percent into her job, she has signed up for various activities to keep her mind occupied and has been spending more time with her siblings. Frequently, she will go to family game nights and dinners, or will call her family to have her own.

Psychic Powers/Immortal Verse:

tw: death, bullying, brief description of corpse

At the age of two, I was adopted by Susanna and Ivan Daviau. Susanna could not have children and Ivan wanted them. They were both busy people who cared for me in their own ways, but were much too invested in their personal lives to really give me the attention I wanted. Since I was usually in the company of nannies, I found myself growing more attached to them. And while my nannies were great and helped me grow into the woman I am today, they all eventually left me. One nanny, in particular, had grown rather fond of me, and I her. Her name was Lucinda and she would read with me every night. A majority of the books were silly; mostly Dr. Seuss and Shell Silverstein. While others stuck with me and helped shape my adult life. Although the detectives in Nancy Drew and Sherlock Holmes were fictional, I found their search for answers admirable. I began to pretend to be those detectives and began to search for the hidden truths and secrets found in the lives of people around me. My mother thought it was a waste of time and wasn’t having any of it. She tried to ignore it, at first. In her mind, if she got me to try new things – piano, ballet, fencing – I’d get over my newfound interest; but I didn’t. The more she tried to push me away from my new-found hobby, the more invested in it I became. During this curious phase of my life, I discovered my father would throw away the letters my mother would give him in the mornings. I learned that my older brother pretended to be the son my father wanted him to be, instead of the cruel bully who smoked pot by the side of the house. Most importantly, I discovered my mother wasn’t the perfect wife and mother she presented herself to be in front of her friends. She was filled with secrets that ranged from one-night stands to having a son I didn’t know about. A son who had gone missing, whose body had yet to be found. With all this information in mind, I finally opened my eyes to the fact that the world was flawed and that everyone made mistakes. When I was thirteen-years-old, my mother sent me away to a boarding school across state. She also fired Lucinda, which crushed me like nothing else had. I suddenly felt lost and more alone than I’ve ever been in my entire life. I never forgave my mother for Lucinda’s loss, either. I began to hate her and made the effort not to reply to her holiday cards. I wanted nothing to do with her.  I thought she was attempting to ruin my life. During my stay at boarding school, I had picked up a few friends. The girls were my age, intelligent, and enjoyed my company – weird quirks and all.  Being around them, I learned they held their own secrets as well. Though I could easily tell their secrets to everyone, I didn’t. I trusted these girls. The girls I didn’t trust, however, I did reveal the secrets I learned about them and they weren’t very happy about it. One group of girls, who called themselves ‘The Gems’, hated me. After they bullied a friend of mine, I snitched to our teacher that I had seen one of the girls smoking in the schoolyard. I assume she got into a lot of trouble because during one of the free days we were allowed to roam around town one of the bigger girls in that group had ganged up on me and put me over her back. She took me to a nearby cemetery where the rest of the girls were. They gave me a talking to and beat the shit out of me. When they left me, I learned something new about myself …I could see ghosts. [title]What I warn you to remember is that I am a detective. Our relationship with truth is fundamental but cracked, refracting confusingly like fragmented glass. - Tana French, In the Woods[/title]

I’m not bullshiting, either. I was no ‘Long Island Medium’ pretending to see things for money. I could actually see what I assumed were ghosts. The first ghost I ever saw came to me in the cemetery I got beat up in and she was very kind to me. At first, I thought she was some random passerby who wanted to give me a helping hand. But when I reached out to her, my hand went right through her and I freaked the fuck out. I ran right out of that goddamn cemetery and I never looked back. My friends all assumed I looked as mortified as I did because of what had happened to me with The Gems. I let them believe that, too. I was too horrified and too embarrassed to tell them what I had seen. They would think I was crazy. More annoyingly, I’d be made a laughing stock. After that day at the cemetery, I dedicated myself to my studies. I adored my friends, but I no longer could identify with them. I had seen a dead woman and I could no longer shake the image away. I had matured from the experience and hid in my books and studies, instead of putting myself out there as I had before. Until that day, I did not know what it was like to have a secret I did not want anyone to know. I had dedicated most of my life to discovering secrets, and now I was scared of someone finding out mine.

Due to my vigorous study sessions, I graduated a few years earlier than my classmates. Graduating was a freeing experience, but I continued to see and hear things. I knew it would be something I would never be able to get rid of, so I promised myself that I would not let my little gift get in the way of how I lived my life. This was why, when I studied at Columbia University, I made the effort to make friends and involve myself in school activities. I put in lots of effort to be social, while putting in even more effort to make my way into a career as a psychiatrist.

After surviving my residency, I found myself working the emergency psych unit in New York. It was a lot of work. People were always in need of assistance. There were rarely ever any breaks because I was always on my feet. It was my job at the psych unit that made me realize how speaking with ghosts wasn’t as terrible as I was making it out to be. Some of the patients I saw would sometimes pass and I usually stopped what I was doing to try and communicate them. Like their living counterparts, they had secrets. The only difference now was that their secrets had the capability of helping them. I wound up helping a few of them, while a few others were stubborn and decided they didn’t need help, that they got a better kick out of fucking with me. And as much as I enjoyed my job at the emergency psych unit, I decided to change career paths in order to pursue a career as a police officer.

Working as a police officer was exciting. Even when I was doing nothing but handing out tickets and telling party-goers to turn down their music, I was having the time of my life. I felt much happier as a police officer than I did as a psychiatrist. However, once I was given the shot to work as a homicide detective, I got to combine my love of puzzles with the information I’d learned while studying psychiatry.

After about a year, I was given the opportunity to work on an interesting case with one of my colleagues. Her name was Rachel and she was beautiful in a Hitchcock blond sort of way. She was also incredibly good at her job, and for that I admired her. The case started out minor, as though it would be solved in a week or month’s time. But as we dove deeper into the case, we both began to notice things were more complicated than we assumed they’d  be.

The mutilated bodies of several of our missing victims had been found in various parts of Los Angeles. We assumed the killer would have gotten bored after six murders, but we discovered differently about a month later into our investigation. With one of the victims escaping, we learned we were biting more than we could chew. The news was surprising to both Rachel and I, and when we reported our findings we were told to let it go. Obsessed with the case, I began to get bored. All I could think about was victims I had tried to find who were found in various parts of the city. I was furious that we weren’t given any answers. Even worse, I felt like the answers were hiding right under my nose. It was a stupid move on my part, but I used my spare time to dedicate myself to the case. From a good friend who took over the case, I discovered that there had been a new body.

I walked to the scene of the crime, claiming to one of my old colleagues that it was important for my work. Of course the crime scene was still as cluttered and messy as the others, and of course, the body had been found somewhere out in the open. Like all the other bodies found, the parts of the victim I could see looked as though she was ready for a date – make-up perfectly kept, opposed to mascara stains, and well-styled hair. Not only that, but when her home was searched, none of her technological devices were found. An important thing I noticed was the fact that I shared similar characteristics of these young women – I had brown hair, I was tall, and olive toned skin. With this in mind, I continued my own investigation by putting myself on dating apps and websites. In the process, I discovered the killer I had stupidly went in search of. Instead of the killer being a man, the killer was a woman. To make matters worse, this woman wasn’t some random woman who was bored and decided to go on a killing spree – this woman was Rachel. Since I had no back-up, Rachel showed me her true colors. I thought she was going to attack me like she attacked her other victims, but instead she shot me twice, leaving me to tumble down the stairs, before telling me to watch my back. ———————————————– PLATONIC Right now Claudia works as a homicide detective. She quit her job for a little while, due to a rough case that nearly ended her life. Although claudia’s sarcastic and blunt nature has a way with pushing people away, she is quite gregarious and won’t shut up once you get her talking. She’s her most social when she’s working, because she can’t afford to be shy when looking for answers. Very active in the community, she has found herself making both wanted and unwanted new friends and acquaintances along the way. She is a very energetic and playful person, along with a very great listener, too. Being friends with claudia might be awkward at times, however, since many of her reactions to things are what she expects people want from her. Meaning, in a way, she only reveals as much to people as she likes, and very few people know the real her. Still, even with her negative personality traits, people who she decides to call ‘friend’ or ‘acquaintance’ get the see a lighter side of her, along with any help they need when they are in need of a helping hand.

ROMANTIC Oh my God, so Claudia is very adventurous and cocky and is in no way shy about her sexuality. She has been known to sleep around and isn’t apologetic about it. However, she is very loyal when she has a romantic partner that she’s serious with. It would be great for her to have a friend with benefits who is more like an enemy with benefits, because she’d have a lot of fun with someone she gets to play argue with it. She likes when people are snappy with her; she thinks it’s really hot. Other than that, I’d really want her to have a future partner (male or female) who drives her up the wall? She’s a bored over-achiever who lives off cheap thrills, so if anyone out there is willing to shake up her life a little, please do

ANTAGONISTIC  this garbage fire of a woman is bound to have a few enemies. once she decides she dislikes someone, she tends to let her opinion be known. she hates when people take advantage of her and isn’t afraid to speak her mind when bullshit occurs. sure she’s loyal to those she holds near and dear, but the people who have become her enemy know she’s not the angel she makes herself out to be. when provoked, claudia is not afraid of mind-games or even ruining one’s reputation for the sake of a little old-fashioned revenge. there’s also the fact that her sarcasm could rub people the wrong way. same goes for her realism. not only that, her job as a detective has probably given her just as many enemies as friends.

[hello-jinyoungs]

Linked to You |Ch.1

Hi! This is my first series, so sorry if anything is weird/doesn’t make much sense. I’m still improving! Please enjoy!  **I’m still editing**

Pairing: You x Jackson

Warnings: PG-16, Mentions of Mental conditions, and abandonment, may have mature content in future chapters

Word Count: 3,279

“HEY JACKSON WANG, MY BEST FRIEND Y/N SAYS SHE HATES YOUR GUTS.” Sarah yells out my apartment window towards the opposite building mirroring it. I roll my eyes and stop typing on my desktop for a moment, lifting my favorite green mug and spinning in my office chair to face her. 

“Nice try, Sarah, but he’s not at home at the moment.” I tell her from across the room, taking a sip of my tea.”It’s the middle of the day–on a Wednesday. No one’s home at this time.”

“Well, it was worth a shot. Since you hate him so much, you should stop being fake and just tell him up front instead of just acting like you’re a cold person.” She sits herself on my window ledge about to take a sip of her drink, until she opens her mouth once again. “I mean you are a cold person, but that’s how you really are. You just hate him for…no reason??” She proceeds to question me. It sounds more like a joke, but I still get a little defensive.

“No, Sarah, not for no reason.” I respond in the most monotone voice I’ve ever spoken in, while getting up to put my cup in the kitchen sink. I dodge her question because of how hard it is to respond. I realized a while ago, that there’s no distinct reasonable reason to even dislike him. Sure, I hate how he waters the apartment complex plants on his spare time, or how he helps the mail man every morning to the point he’d be late to his nine to five, but that’s not a reason to actually hate some one.. that I know.

“I-I don’t know Sarah. He just irks me. His kindness just overwhelms me, and to the point I think it’s fake.” I say, putting away my now, washed mug, and propping myself onto my small kitchen counter. 

I look up at her and her face is filled with a questionable look, and I try to explain myself further, but she just shuts me up.

“Y/N, you’re my friend and all, but you literally hate this person for no reason, you’re fake to him whenever you see him, and yet you’ve never had a real conversation with him.” Sarah follows after me to out her cup in the sink, sitting in the isle across from me. 

“And your point?” I ask blandly. To show her even more of my disinterest, I grab a small bag of chips from the cupboard behind me and start munching away on the insides. “I just see no reason to communicate with people I don’t want to get to know.”

“My point is you’re a dick, I’m your only friend, and you stay in your apartment all day claiming it’s for your job” She crosses her arms and stares at the floor, and I stare back at her. She only gapes at the floor when she’s speaking the truth, which hits me harder for some reason as if I didn’t already know those things.

“Yeah, yeah, I know I’m a loser, but a loser can still pick her friends, and he’s not one of them” I try to fend, feeling as if I’ve been caught red handed. I know she knows all of that because she’s the only one to ever visit or listen to me here–ever– but hearing your painfully honest friend tell it to you means that she’s noticed it’s bad, and is telling you because she’s concerned… also meaning I’m not normal. 

“Along with the rest of the world, I guess.” She finally lets go of the topic, standing up and walking to the fridge.

Sarah ends up staying for a couple more hours, watching Disney movies with me to pass time while drinking more tea and eating cookies in our bittersweet silence.

“Are you sure you didn’t forget anything? I ask Sarah, and she shakes her head no, while walking together to her building in our complex. It was late, and dark out. I always make it sure to walk the extra yard with her to keep her safe, or at least that’s what I say. Our whole complex is pretty blocked off with a fence that you need an electric key to get into, so she think’s it’s complete BS that the reason is solely for the purpose of keeping her safe. Sarah likes to think she’s the most important person to me at the moment, and a majority of it was that I just didn’t want to be alone, and always wanted her by my side. 

She’s not wrong though. Sarah is always really cocky, but she’s almost never wrong.. I guess it’s something I’ll miss about her.

Once I get to to the front of her apartment door, I glance behind me and she quickly noticed.

“Jackson’s probably asleep right now, it’s too late to make friends.” She giggles, while her keys jiggle in her hands and she opens her door. I don’t make a sound a quickly look back to face her. “But don’t worry, there’s always tomorrow.”. I always roll my eyes at the fact that Jackson’s the neighbor in front of her(more like the fact that she always talks about it), but I keep silent today.

As soon as I walk into her apartment, tear threaten to fall from my eyes. Boxes where already set up, to the point where only some of her main pieces of furniture were visible, and her closet was only half full.

“I know, it’s shocking” She says to me, as I gape at her almost empty bedroom. “It doesn’t even feel like it’s been over a month since I’ve told you.”

“Do you really have to leave?” I question her, wiping the silent tears from my face before turning back to face her. “I-I mean, do you have to leave so soon? Maybe Laurence can wait a little longer, you know?” My voice cracks and I sound rushed, and it annoys me that she can see through every part of it.

“Well, yeah. His parents really want to see me before the engagement party.” I see the stress in her eyes, but she doesn’t dare bring up what she sees, and tries to make seem as calm as possible.

I nodded my head yes, and she comes forward offering me a hug. I gladly take it, and after that she holds my head and looks me in the eye.

“I know I seem cocky, and I am. But I just know who you are. And I love you so, so much to just leave you alone here. Promise me you’ll make friends before I leave? I can’t live not knowing whether you’re in good hands or not.” I nod at her words, and she envelopes me in a hug once again. “ We still have three weeks.” She whispers.

After I leave her apartment, I head straight for the stairs leading to the first floor.. My eyes start to sting, as I find myself quickly racing down the single flight of them, going outside and sitting on cement ones, pouring my eyes out into my jacket sleeve.

I’ve always liked Laurence for Sarah. He was kind, and sweet to her, and took care of me too, once in a while. I’ve never expected myself to hate him like this, especially for something he’s just doing for himself. He wants to marry Sarah, but that means them moving all the way to Boston, a whole 50 states, 45 hour straight drive, and 3,100 miles away.

I know it sounds selfish and crude of me to just want her by my side forever, but my heart hurts  just thinking of how the only thing I have left being taken away from me. I guess it’s my fault for becoming reliant on things other than myself, but it wouldn’t matter who’s fault it was in the end. I’d still be alone, while everyone else had their lives planned out. I’d still be stuck in the same old spot, in the same old city, where everything was boring and lifeless without anyone with me.

As realization hit me that my life was a bigger wreck that I’d imagined, I sobbed harder into my sweater sleeves. I didn’t care if neighbors in the complex noticed or called the cops. Or if they told our management and have them put a mental help flier on my door the next day. I just wanted to release all the bad energy. At least the weight on my shoulder would lessen the next day because I cried off all the tears.

Seemingly at the most annoying point in time ever, I hear a pair of shoes stop in front of me. I look up slightly, only staring at his shoes, as the stranger sits next to me on the stair. I quickly wipe the remaining tears on my face, and trying to stop the rest of the tears threatening to fall.

“You can pass by me, and go up sir.” I tell the man, my head still hanging low.

“You were blocking the way,” He says, making me look quickly to where we were sitting. I notice he was only using it as an excuse, because I didn’t move one bit, and he was taking up most of the room. Was he doing this to be arrogant or intrude? “Why are you crying on the stair well anyway?”

I turn to finally see his face, and it’s most annoying face in the world. It’s one thing  to be annoyingly persistent, but another to annoyingly butt into another’s problems. They’re both annoying, but at least one has good intentions. 

I shake my head no, basically telling him it was nothing. I look down to the floor again, thinking it was finally something to add to the reasons I dislike him. Nosy. 

After telling him literally nothing about what was going on for about five minutes, I had expected him to leave, but he didn’t move one bit. Instead, he started taking about the everything around us. After he got bored, he started talking about the stars for some reason.

“Do- woah, hey do you know about that constellation?” It’s my favorite, Pegasus.” He speaks continuously. I listen to him, staring at the places he points into the sky. “I kind of want to be him one day. You know Zeus put up there in honor of his work, serving him as a carrier of his thunder bolts?”

I huff at him, knowing that what he actually just said was wrong.

“What?” He presses his shoulder at me, and I shake my head back at him. “Well, there must be something you want to say, you rolled your eyes at me.” He says, backing away from me once again. Unable to sit still on the topic, I turn and face him.

“That’s what people think. Pegasus actually ran away there, being tired of Zeus pulling him around, treating him like a servant.” After that, I just turned back to mind my own business, and stargaze, but he ends up talking back at me.

“Ah, yes, that’s what people think… Maybe even what you believe. We don’t know for sure what the real story is, and we may never know it.” As he speaks, I notice he fiddles with his fingers and shoe laces, keeping his hands moving, touching small objects around us. “But whatever you set your mind to is yours. You can believe you’re a horse who needs a getaway to become successful, or a horse that stays through it’s hardships and becomes successful..none of which are completely bad.”

After a small pause, I engage in the conversation more, finding interest in his words for the first time ever. “Wow, you must really know a pegasus, then.”

I still continue to listen to him, his words actually making sense to me for once. Oddly strange, I’d never imagined this moment. Especially because we’re talking about a Greek flying horse from centuries ago.

In what seemed like talking for hours on end, he ends up walking me to the building mirroring his in our apartment complex. For some reason my heart felt lighter inside. I know that this feeling won’t even last as close as forever, but it feels nice to confide in someone other than Sarah, or even Laurence.

“Thanks for the good chat, Y/N.” He tells me, initiating good bye first. My heart always weakens during goodbyes, even though I merely thought of the guy as an acquaintance an hour ago. I smile at him, but look everywhere except into his eyes, trying to avoid the good bye as much as possible. “I know you’re really shy and all, so I makes me feel better as a person that I could help you open up a bit.”

I frown on the inside, knowing that it was more of me letting loose than opening up to him, but I let go of the topic to say a proper goodbye to him.Trying my best, I let him know how I really feel, and how thankful I was to being to talk to him. “Thanks for everything too..It didn’t fix everything, but I do feel a lot lighter now.”

He chuckles at me slightly, and rubs the back of his neck. “You know, Y/N, you’re a pretty cool person, once you get out of your shell a little.”

“Well, I guess. If you call that getting out of my shell- I mean.” I smile at him slyly. “You know Jackson, you’re not as horrible as I thought you were.” I laugh at him.

“What do you mean by that??” He jumps at me immediately. “Horrible? You thought I was horrible?” His face almost looked distressed, asking me questions back to back.

I immediately regret telling him that, his facial expressions differentiating as if I changed(more like ruined) his whole life. I just smiled to play off the awkwardness, and try to explain to the best of my abilities.

“Uh, so, like. Not really horrible, but annoying. Like deeply annoying.” He looked hurt a little, so I try to reassure him quickly. “But don’t take it personal. I’m like that with a lot of people”

I laugh it off to make it seem more natural and calm about the situation, but it just made it more awkward. I also felt really bad, because he just helped me lift a load off my shoulders and I practically told him that he was a terrible person.”

“What did I do to annoy you? Was it something I said? I don’t want to be rude or anything, but-”

“You talk too much.” I cut him off, slightly loosing it. “And you’re loud. A little too persevering, persistent, almost forcing.” I felt sort of bad for saying so this quickly, but it felt even better to get that off my chest this night as well. He makes a face that looked like he was focusing on something behind me,  and my guilt sulks in even more as the minutes pass by.

After what seemed like five minutes of silence, he finally looks back into my eyes and speaks up again.

“Well, after what happened tonight, I can’t just let you leave my life. I promise I’ll make you an even better friend in the future, Y/N!!” He exclaims, making me laugh. Although I didn’t really consider us friends friends, I just go on and let him continue. “I’ll make sure that you’ll be in good shape, and that I’ll be i in good shape to keep you in even better good shape.” He makes his hand do a soldier salute, making me giggle even more at his silliness.

“Alright, Jackson.” I chuckle, finally backing up to my apartment building, letting him know it was time for me to go. 

“Y/N, Good night!!” He practically yells back, waving. I wave back at him, closing the building door, and climbing up the stairs.

Hours later, after taking a long shower and realizing the time, I lay in bed with a cup of more tea. My heart races, thinking of the most emotionally exhausting day of my lifetime since I left the Orphanage. 

Actually, since Martha died, but that’s a different story.

After laying down and surfing the internet on my phone, I think about Jackson again, for the first time alone in a new light. He wasn’t as bad as I thought. Inspirational, and maybe even a life changing person. 

He didn’t change much for me in reality, but his words changed how I pictured things slightly. Only certain miracles happen over night, but this one happened within an hour, even minutes.

His words still lingered, even as I drifted slower into sleep.

“You’re your own pegasus.”

Our apartment complex was different from typical San Francisco apartments. Usually, they’re blocks of city living, single people with a business type of apartment, with all the floors stacked high reaching, maybe 20 of them.

The apartment complex I lived in had four buildings, a main office for managers, and 2 major parking lots, surrounded by a gate with car openings, and even regular gate doors that needed electric keys to open. The four buildings were placed into a “circle” ish way(that doesn’t really look like a circle), but to have open space with grass and trees, making it this place kid/family friendly.

Sometimes, I wish I lived in a typical San Francisco apartment. Because Jackson Wang’s building and room faces mine? Nah. But because I wake up to him every. damn. morning.

“Whaaaat??! How ya doin, Steve?!” He screams every morning to our mail man. I used to love getting mail, but ever since Jackson moved here, I wished that they’d deliver mail in the afternoon, when I’d need real awakening.

I get up from my bed, and unconsciously my feet moved to my balcony, as if it were a daily routine my body does to check who’s waking me up this early. Except I know every time, and everyday that it’s only Jackson Wang who’s be screaming this early in the morning.

I look back from my balcony into my kitchen, seeing that it was already 8:30, and Jackson was still helping out the mail man. If he was a normal person on the out side, he’d have a regular job at nine to five, making him late every morning. 

“If he’d do that everyday even though he’d be late to work, he must be a genuinely nice person..” I try to convince myself, getting lost in thought. As I was thinking and staring off into blank space, he must have saw me because he started yelling.

“HEEEEY, NEIGHBOR!!” He starts jumping with mail in his arms, and waving at me at the same time. I get a little anxious with him yelling at me across the whole complex, thinking our neighbors would be annoyed too, so I only wave. A second later, as he tries to speak,  I point back into my home, and walk inside. I didn’t go back to check and see, but he must have gone back to helping Steve, because I didn’t hear a single peep after that.

After 20 minutes, I hear a knock on my door as I’m eating breakfast at my small dinner table. Getting excited and thinking it’s Sarah, I jump up and rush to the door. 

“SARAH HEY-” I practically yell, opening the door quickly, but my jaw drops as I realize who it really is.

“Hey neighbor!” Jackson Wang says, pushing his way inside my home.

Hello! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. It’s kind of long, but oh well. It’s definitely the longest piece I’ve written so far, so please forgive me if there are mistakes of any kind. I’m still in the process of getting better as a writer. Thank you for reading!!

-Erica