#he has never expressed interest in that and the only women he has domestic relationships with are karima and kristen

[clarasghosts]

the whiplash from ben saying "what are you wearing" to kristen on the phone and then moments later finding that the jesus girl has moved into his apartment

[letsgetrowdy43]

Nico and Angie as parents—

Au Masterlist!!

Nico and Angie have their daughter when he’s around 36 and she’s 33.

The question of children had always been a sensitive subject for the couple, both of them wanting a family, but unsure of how to start one.

The conversation is quite delicate because even though he's expressing a desire to have a child, she interprets it as him expecting her to sacrifice her dreams for his. This leads her to often avoid the conversation because she feels guilty about not being able to fulfill his wishes.

Angie loves the idea of having a little her and him running around, but every time the conversation comes up it always seems like pregnancy and having a baby starts with the end of her career. Her hesitancy falls within not being ready to give up her dreams just yet, but also she feels a lot of societal pressure to have babies from not only the media around her but a lot of the women who surround her, so she is very at a crossroads.

It leads to a lot of relationship turmoil. But then, one day, he listens, steps back, and acknowledges that he's been going about it the wrong way. He realizes that he hasn't been explaining or telling her that he'd never want her to quit her career. They talk, and for once they are both communicating. He tells her that he would never ask her to give up the thing she's been working towards her whole life. Instead, he brings up the option of adoption and expresses his willingness to retire so that they could start a family together.

They adopt Olive Josephine Chandler-Hischier at the end of the 2035 seasonn when she's around three months old!!

Olive brought such a sense of completion to their marriage too, it was already perfect, but Olive was like the missing puzzle piece that they didn't even know they were searching for. She's made their little family feel whole in a way never imagined possible.

Angie was very scared of motherhood, she isn't a soft or nurturing person in any way shape or form, but when Olive came into her life it was like a switch flipped and everything made more sense. She is a mama bear for sure, and all of the pieces just kinda came together to form the most beautiful bond with her daughter!!

Nico is just enamoured with her, he took to the role so naturally. Watching Olive's little face light up when she sees him it's like all the worries of the world just melt away for him, the unsureness that lies within their lifestyle disappears

Angie was scared about the balance that would come with work and motherhood, but that all withered away when Olive was brought into her life, seeing how supportive Nico is and loving this little ball of sunshine has made all the difference.

Being parents has also created such a sweet and domestic routine in their lives, they love just being parents and their lives revolve around Olive. It's such a change too, from their constant being about hockey to being able to step away from the competition and begin to focus on loving this little life that they brought into theirs.

Nico is the emotional of the two, and Angie is the more logical. He's the worrier, she's the one that calms him down. It's such an interesting dynamic where the societal expectations of gender roles are reversed!!

They love their new life though, they live in New Jersey during the season, Nico coaches a local junior team, Angie plays with the Devils still, and Olive gets to grow up in a city that her parents love. They vacation in Switzerland, Nico continues to play worlds in the summers, and they train together in Michigan!!

Olive is a very stern and stubborn baby just like her mama, she may not be biologically theirs but she inherits all of their traits and mannerisms including her mama's frown and dad’s shy smile.

The main thing that comes out of their journey into parenthood is that Olive comes before everything else. That may be obvious, but it's an important thought process they both took on when she came into their lives. No game, no Championship, and no team is above her, she is always the focus in their lives and to them it's important the people around them know that

[horizon-verizon]

At least, Cersei is the one to refuse to go public with their incestous relationship and isn’t out there proposing to marry Myrcella to Tommen, unlike Saint Jaime who call his sister ‘queen of whores’, treat her as his property, and victim-blame her (I tell you, he [Robert] loves me not/And whose fault is that, sweet sister ?), and never spare a thought for Tysha (or Bran for that matter), but thats normal, its because he’s a feminist and teenage girl-coded. No wonder he has some sympathy for Criston Cole, lmao. Do people genuinely believes Jaime is a victim of patriarchy and that his gender doesn’t favor him over Cersei ?? Insane. Can’t wait for him to die. It’s 2023, Jaime isn’t Adam and Cersei isn’t Eve, dude is a misogynistic, racist and hyperprivileged white man and his father’s golden boy. Funny how you all talk like Green/Criston’s stans when it comes to Cersei and Jaime.

*EDITED POST* (9/21/23)

Probably from this recent post that itself has 3 links to other posts where I talk about Cersei as a character.

Um...when did I ever either imply or directly say that Jaime was "a victim of patriarchy and that his gender doesn’t favor him over Cersei"? Or express that he was better than his sister, morally? Or express that Cersei deserved to die more than he did?

Perhaps you have that impression because I never talked about Jaime exclusively once, or you're just going off of what you recently read and horribly misinterpreted the purpose and argument of that post. If the latter, I advise you to reread. If the first, I don't write about Jaime much simply because he doesn't interest me as much as Cersei or Tyrion, no one asked me my thoughts about him, and I'm not thinking of him apart from his relationship with Cersei or Tyrion. His knighthood and masculinity are...not "easy", but direct enough for me to not dwell as much as his other siblings' issues. (look to this post by blankwhiteshield about Jaime) I generally care more about women, children, and other marginalized people in fiction, even when I do sympathize with some white cis straight men some of the time.

I mean pre-Brienne Jaime. That's just how GRRm wrote his arc.

For me, blankwhiteshield's posts about Jaime HERE and HERE both suffice to give me a picture of who Jaime is bc they fill in some blanks I had in my pre-existing assessment of Jaime. Which actually wasn't favorable, anon. I find Jaime to actually be very annoying, and no, I do not think that he is Cersei's victim. He is deluded in some ways as much as her and is not a good person because of the abuse and emotional neglect they all get from Tywin/Westerosi society. I actually should have, since again, there were blanks. You can take a look at those links as well.

Look, Cersei is evil & abusive AS WELL AS a victim of domestic abuse woman & of misogyny since childhood. These are not mutually exclusive nor does it NOT mean that her domestic abuse only and directly caused her power-hungriness and need to control if not every, most aspect of her life and those she sees will help her get or maintain control and a good image of herself. Neither the abuse nor misogyny against her erases the fact that she develops hatred towards women, going so far as to violently and sexually objectify them like w/Taena. (Her using what she's observed men do to affirm power and copying it). Or that she pinched her baby brother's penis at a very young age, showing her classist and blase willingness to target children/one of the most vulnerable groups for her own sense of control over her husband, family, etc., and political power. She is also very willing to sacrifice/risk the entire city for her own control of power, similar to Aerys II. Cersei is complicated and there is nuance to her character, but she is unmistakably evil simultaneously. What I like about her or what I find compelling about her (if you haven't read the post about it) is that I can understand her motivations, and relate in some ways, and from practically babyhood she's been trying to be essentially "good enough" and perfect through external, social values of competency BUT also as someone has said: her need for perfection and power and total love comes across as pure in its own sort of twisted way. Her emotions are so intense and uncontrolled and she remains totally unaware of her loneliness that she comes across as childlike.

I also find it very funny how you're criticizing show!Rhaenyra for wanting to marry Jace to Helaena (I presume, you don't specify but that is the closest betrothal to the one you make b/t Myrcella and Tommen) when you say: "At least, Cersei is the one to refuse to go public with their incestous relationship and isn’t out there proposing to marry Myrcella to Tommen". Because while this would have done nothing to assuage Alicent--which was what Rhaenyra was trying to do--it was also not that bad of a deal for Helaena or Jace themselves. I personally dislike it bc, again, we're erasing Rhaenyra's relationship w/Laena and how she ever made it so that Jace married Laena's daughter...but I digress. OR you probably were referring to Jaime expressing the desire to go public with their relationship, that conversation? Again, what does this have to do with my argument in the post I recently posted and that I assume you're responding to?

[jamethinks]

Head canon for Donavan

He was low key a true feminist. He respected women and spoke out heavily against post war abuse. He supported the idea of women continuing to work and defended their right to be in the army. When the media got on his wife’s dick for not having a kid yet he said he was perfectly content never having kids if that’s what she wanted.

He may have been a warlord and imperialist but he still had rather progressive views on women and women’s rights.

And it’s not really a mystery why. Now this is mainly for my fanfic that I will never post so I’m keeping it separate but

The Don Man has never been one to hold biases against people. He preferred to look for direct signs of honesty and relatability rather than focusing on external factors. That’s not to say he didn’t ha our any bigoted views but it rarely affect individual interactions.

A lot of his feminist views were rooted in his relationship with his older sister (an OC), Donna Desmond. She was only 10 months older and was regarded as family disappointment. She was often excluded from conversations and left to stand at the side. She was promptly married off at the age of 18 and her children weren’t even considered valid heirs to the family group. She was seen as unintelligent and hysterical and found herself locked up in her house for the rest of her life after the death of her young children. She is really remembered when discussing the Desmond family to the point where people didn’t even know she existed.

Donathan had a very different perspective on his sister. He didn’t even see her as his older sister but more as his twin flame. They had many common interests and she often assisted with his work and assignments. The played logic games together and he regarded her as his only true competitor. He adored his older sister and to this day still seeks her out for advice.

While at war, Donatello was informed that his sister had suffered a mental breakdown and had to be lobotomized for her own sake. He had always been wary of his sister’s husband and the claims he made regarding his wife’s behavior. However at the time he was too preoccupied with school and later the military to proper investigate the situation. Instead, he trusted the words of the people around him. That his sister was just delusional and unwell.

After he was discharged from the military in 1943 he spent a lot time at home rehabbing from his brain injury. He made many request for updates on his sister and her wellbeing, he even tried to visit her at her home but he was too weak. Once he got back up to his full strength the first place he went was to see his sister after so many years. The week he spent with his sister was the most traumatizing of his life, seeing just how badly the confident brilliant woman he once adored had been torn down and stripped of her own autonomy.

She was as social and communicative as before but there was a clear difference in her intellect. She behaved in an almost robotic way. Her body was covered in scares and bruises. Her once hopeful eyes were dull and strained as she struggled to maintain a cheerful demeanor. It pained Dontholomew to see his sister in this condition, but it also enraged him to think about how long he had been lied to but the people around him. He resented his family for abandoning his sister for reasons he could not understand. But he mostly resented himself for being so passive and not acting on his guts.

One of the first policies enacted by the Jamaican Mafia leader (the Don) was the illegalisation of lobotomies. The decision was quite the left field as he had never expressed any issues with mental health treatments. During most of his campaigns, he also spoke out against domestic violence against mothers and children especially among war veterans. He also once shared the horrors he witnessed during the war of his comrades sharing stories of sexually assaulting women from the Allied countries.

Honestly I have 2500 word book report that I just don’t want to do. So expect more incoherent ramblings from me idk. One day I will tell you about Dionne.

[childabusesurvivor]

Sharing - How to lower a troubling male suicide rate? End the myths about emotions.

New Post has been published on https://www.childabusesurvivor.net/reviews/2024/07/11/sharing-how-to-lower-a-troubling-male-suicide-rate-end-the-myths-about-emotions/

Sharing - How to lower a troubling male suicide rate? End the myths about emotions.

Some interesting thoughts about men and emotions from a therapist, including this:

Ironically, one idea that is often presented as a strength — “men are unemotional and logical, while women are emotional” — is rooted in a multi-gender myth. If men are unemotional, how do we have the highest rates of: death by suicide, murders committed, domestic violence, substance abuse, infidelity (though the gap is closing) and heart attacks?

Boys and men aren’t unemotional. But outside of sports, we’re rarely given healthy and sober opportunities to learn how to manage our emotions.

I’ve seen this time and time again. As men, we might even be told that we should be open to our emotions, but there are still very few spaces for men to show emotion. Sports is one example of a space where we can show excitement or disappointment. Sometimes, we can show more complex emotions, but only in romantic relationships—never with friends.

He also discusses the limited range of emotions usually deemed acceptable for men. Note how we are allowed to have anger and how it gets used as the cover for several more complicated emotions. That might also explain why men with depression don’t come across as sad but angry and thus don’t get diagnosed with depression as often as women. It doesn’t “look” like the depression we see in the media.

Read more at the link, and let’s discuss ways to make it more acceptable for men to express strong emotions in ways beyond fandom and anger.

https://www.newsobserver.com/opinion/article289695029.html

If you are struggling with your mental health right now, please take a look for a local organization that can help here – Find Help.

#Abuse, #Depression, #Emotion, #MentalHealth

[lenteur]

random thoughts about tell me that you love me, episode fifteen

(the rest is under the cut because i'm worried about your eyes having to read ALL OF THAT and this post might contain spoilers)

It's interesting to see the parallel between mo eun and seo kyung during her uni days. Both women feel lonely. It can feel isolating to not be able to do things "normal" couples do. For mo eun, I think she's twice as isolated because it's her first time dating someone deaf, but also she can't help but compare herself to seo kyung. Seo kyung, jin woo's first love. The woman who was able to live mo eun's dream first (hearing jin woo talk). The woman who can communicate almost perfectly with jin woo. Throughout the drama, whenever mo eun was having a difficult time in their relationship, I don't think she has spoken her feelings thoroughly. She always started with a sentence and got cut either by jin woo promising her to do better or by her lack of knowledge in sign language. You could see her give up saying something because she didn't know how to say it in sign language. I know they find other means of communication (mainly the notes app on the phone or writing), but it isn't as fluid as two people speaking the same language. So, in retrospect, I can see why mo eun feels lonely. Even her friends and family won't be able to understand what she's going through because they aren't in a relationship with a disabled person. The only person who can relate to what she's living is ki hyun. However, he's jin woo's best friend, not mo eun's. He's lived with a hard of hearing person (jin woo) most of his life. He's been in a relationship with his wife for so many years. He's had the time to "train" how to communicate. He has the experience. So even if mo eun came up to him and asked him for advice, she still wouldn't help but feel like the odd one out. She's starting from zero and the people around her either have no experience with dating a disabled person, or have an insane amount of experience. There's no in between. And he's a man. They're living similar relationships but from a different point of view.

It's beena while since we last saw mo dam and I was feeling good about it. I'm sorry but he irks me. He's always been judgemental about jin woo. I understand knowing that his sister is sad and being worried about her. Somehow, he does sound fake when worrying about her. It's like he's almost waiting for them to break up and it doesn't sit right with me. From what we've seen in the drama, mo dam hasn't been a great brother to mo eun, always siding with his parents, judging jin woo because of his disability. I'm just not a big fan of him is all.

Mo eun talking about the evolution of their relationship must hit jin woo deeper now that he knows seo kyung broke up with him because she was tired but used his disability against him. That said, it's nice to finally see mo eun express clearly how she feels in the relationship. It might be just me but it felt like she held back for so long. Mo eun and jin woo are facing the biggest obstacle in their relationship so far. It felt like they've been drifting away for a few episodes now. They don't communicate as often and it seems they're both living in different worlds. It's true that in the beginning everything was roses and rainbows, it's the excitement of a new relationship. But now that they know more about each other, it's getting harder and harder to stay together. Like I've mentioned a million times before, mo eun has never been in a relationship with a disabled person so she might have convinced herself she was willing to go past the hurdles that come their way. But time might have proven her wrong because she couldn't predict what the relationship entails. I do hope they end up together but I could also understand if they don't in the end.

Okay so they have reconciled it seems and they're spending time together doing domestic things. I don't want to jump to conclusions but I'm a sucker for romance and happy endings. I'm rooting for them!............... And right when I'm writing that, they distance themselves even more and jin woo breaks up with her </3 Can't we have nice things?

I'm heartbroken. This was one of the most emotional breakups I've seen in kdrama history. It's unfair! I really wanted them to stay in a relationship. I think seo kyung's revelation has triggered jin woo. He's resented himself for years after the fire. He's still resenting himself. He's told seo kyung he'll never be able to love someone as much as her because the jin woo from their uni days loved with no fear, he was carefree. But after what happened, he was traumatised. As a result, he built a wall around him because he knew nobody would love him in his entirety. He knew his disability would have consequences one way or another. That's why when he met mo eun, he was shy. He knew how things would end if he decided to be in a relationship with her. Things turned sour with seo kyung, someone who has had experience with jin woo's disability. So he can only imagine how things might end up with someone who has no experience. He chose to break up because they've slowly drifted apart. The excitement and giddiness from the beginning fizzled out and all that was left was a lot of miscommunication and bottled up feelings. He understood how mo eun felt because that's what he's experienced with seo kyung long ago. Things end up the same so why bother staying in a relationship when he knows the other person is suffering?

I like how he took the time to thank mo eun for her efforts. For showing him how it feels to be loved after all this time resenting himself.

This episode made me sad so 7/10

[mandoalorian]

Javier Peña SFW Alphabet

Because the world needs more soft!Javi.

Warnings: 16+. allusions to sex, depression mention, cigarettes mention, alcohol mention, food mention.

Masterlist

Reblogs appreciated!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

So, Javi hates PDA. It makes him cringe. Javier can be pretty affectionate but only when you two are alone and spending private one-on-one time with each other. However, if he sees another pair of eyes on you, he can get protective pretty quick. He’ll guide you around with his hand placed on the small of your back, and he’s not afraid to slap your ass if it means he gets to assert his dominance.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

I mean, just look at Javier & Steve. Javi is an amazing best friend. He’s hilarious, and always jokes around, although most of the time, his humour can be quite dark and self deprecating. None the less, he’s super funny and never fails to make you laugh. He’s perfect to have around when you need to be cheered up. He’s also super supportive and will constantly look out for you. If you’ve fucked up and made a mistake, Javi will take the blame and have your back. You don’t even have to ask him. He really steps up for you.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

At first? No. Javi struggles to show his feelings, and he’s not the biggest hopeless romantic, as you might’ve guessed. He’s never really given out cuddles (or hugs for that matter), but if you’ve been together for a couple of months and you’re going steady, he doesn’t have an issue with getting into it. He learns to really like cuddles. Especially after sex.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

He has no interest in getting married. Never has, never will. He doesn’t see the point in a piece of paper from city hall to confirm that you two love each other. As long as he can feel it, in his heart, that’ll be good enough for him. But if you absolutely want to get married, he’ll allow it. It won’t be a big ceremony though. Maybe just a few guests and a store bought cake. He doesn’t like the fuss. He doesn’t cook, ever. He had a pretty bad diet that consists of snacking on chips at the bar or ordering take-out. He has a cleaner too.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Honestly? Javier can be pretty brutal. If you’ve hooked up just a few times and he’s lost interest, he’ll probably just not call you back. If you’ve been together a while, he’s gonna be really torn up about breaking up with you. He’ll be sulking and moody for a few days and you’ll know that somethings up. Then he’ll go distance and ghost you, hiding out in a few motel bars leaving you worried about where he is. When you find him, there’s a big fight and he snaps and tells you he wants to end it all. When he misses you, he’ll pick up a girl from the brothel who looks similar enough to you, and he’ll think of you while he fucks her. He feels gross about it, but it’s just what he does.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Oh Lord, Javier has the biggest commitment issues. He’s terrified, as we seen with Lorraine. It’s gonna take a lot for him to settle down. He tries to reassure you that it’s not your fault and it’s a problem he needs to work out himself. It might take Javi a few years of steadily dating before his commitment issues become resolved, but as long as you’re willing to wait for him, he’ll be happy.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He’s definitely rough at first — in every way you can imagine. But you teach him how to be more gentle and considerate, both with yourself and the people around him. He can be pretty blunt which can cause a lot of hurt sometimes. When he sees that you’re upset though, he will show a surprising softer side. He’ll wrap his arm around you and smooth out your hair, and he’ll lull you to sleep by whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

The first time you hug Javi, he stiffens up completely. He has no idea how to react. The last time he received a hug must’ve been from his mom when he was still just a young boy. He often gives you hugs though, especially when you’re seeking comfort. Javier has big strong arms and he holds you so right. He runs at your flesh in soothing motions and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You can always smell the honeyed scent of his cologne, and cigarettes, when he hugs you. But you wouldn’t trade the feeling for the world.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

You’re probably going to say it first... and that’s okay! Javier does love you, he knows that for sure. It’s just... it can be hard for him to actually admit it and come to terms with it (with his commitment issues and all). You assure him it’s okay and he can take his time. But he ends up not taking long at all. Once you tell him you love him, his whole world feels complete and it’s suddenly pretty easy for him to tell you that he loves you back.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

To be honest, Javi is pretty confident in a relationship. No woman has ever left him before. So, he doesn’t get too jealous. Besides, other men know better than to get too close to you because Javier isn’t afraid to throw a punch or two. He is, by nature, extremely protective, though.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

So passionate. A clash of tongues and teeth. He often moans into your mouth and the vibrations from that alone are enough to send shivers down your spine. When he kisses you, he struggles to keep his hands to himself. With Javier, kisses often lead to making out which often leads to sex. He loves to kiss you anywhere. Along your jaw, down your neck and the valley of your breasts. He’s a biter too (this is canon). He loves to nibble at your skin and give you little lovebites.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Surprisingly decent. Kids aren’t his favourite thing in the world, and he does his best to avoid them, but on an occasion where he finds himself with a child, he can handle them pretty well. Olivia Murphy loves her uncle Javi.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Weekdays are the worst because Javi has to head to work pretty early. Weekends though? You and Javier will sleep in until around midday, just lounging in each other’s arms and basking in the morning sunlight as it seeps through your curtains. It’s soft and sweet and almost always results in morning sex. You and Javi find yourself indulging in tired conversations and soft touches as you both fall in and out of sleep.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Javier will be drinking beer or whiskey and the two of you will mostly likely be on his sofa, watching a movie together. Fancy dinners aren’t his style but he likes to treat you to them now and again on date night. And trust me when I say you two will be going at each other until the early hours of the morning.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He’s an enigma to everyone he meets, and this doesn’t exclude you. It can be exhausting at first— how much he keeps to himself. He doesn’t talk about his childhood, or what he did at work today. He talks about very little. But once you express to him that you wish he’d be more open and vulnerable with you, he tries. He really does try. In the end, he’s a lot more confident and can talk to you about practically anything.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

He has 0 patience, as we see on stakeouts. He gets angry and frustrated super fast. He’s not too loud and he’s rarely a shouter, but when he’s pissed, you’re sure to know about it.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

It’s going to take him about three years for him to remember your birthday. But he remembers the exact shirt you were wearing the night you and him met. He forgets your mom’s name, but he remembers the brand name of the perfume that’s displayed on your dresser. Point is, he remembers very menial and silly things about you. Sometimes, he’ll bring up a random fact about you that he’s remembered and it’ll truly surprise you. Even though he struggled to remember the important things, you find is so endearing how he remembers the smaller and finer things.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first time you and Javi slept together, something just hit him like a ton of bricks. He’s slept with plenty of women, that much is clear, but with you, it was different. Right from the start, something felt different, and he couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. Truth be told, it terrified him... this unknown feeling. But it excited him too, and only spurred him on more. It takes him a while to realise, but that feeling was love. That was the night he fell in love with you. And so for that reason, yours and Javi’s first time is his favourite memory.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very protective. There’s no reason to elaborate. Due to the nature of his job and the shit he sees on a day to day basis, he makes you his number one priority. If anything ever happened to you, he couldn’t ever forgive himself. So he’s constantly at your neck and call. Anything you need, he will provide.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Javier is pretty low maintenance. Like I said, he will occasionally take you out for a meal at a fancy restaurant, but this is usually for anniversary dates. He’s taken a liking to going to the movies with you, and he also loves to go dancing with you in nightclubs. Javi’s job is well paid and he has a surprisingly good eye for jewellery. He always picks you out the most beautiful diamonds. You worry about him spending too much on you, though.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Smoking. You don’t like the smell of it. And when he has one too many beers. He tries to cut down though, for you.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Yeah, he looks after himself. He keeps himself well groomed. He even has a little toothbrush he uses to comb his moustache.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

He really, really would. Say you and Javi have had a big fight and you are both spending some time away from each other... he’ll be really struggling. You’re always there to ground him and make him feel safe. He never realised how much needs you until you’re not with him anymore. He’d probably cry himself to sleep, but he’d never tell anyone.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He has a vision. It’s a pretty distant vision, well into the future. But once he retires from the DEA, he’d love to take you back to Texas and show you his fathers farm. Maybe even have a farm with you someday. A suburban house with a white picket fence and dog. It’s the last thing you’d expect from Javi, but in a sense, he craves the normality of it all.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Uh, he doesn’t like drugs? DEA agent and all. He doesn’t like the rain because it ruins his hair and he hates the way his colourful shirts stick to his skin. You tell him it’s sexy, though. He doesn’t like big events where he has to see and interact with a bunch of people.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

He snores so loud. For the love of God, he needs to see a sleep therapist or some shit. Thankfully, you grow used to it, but you don’t know how he doesn’t wake himself up!

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[the-modernmary]

to be enough || aaron hotchner x gn!reader

Summary: During a movie night with your boyfriend Aaron, you accidentally stumbled onto his old wedding video, and it makes you wonder if you could ever compete with his first love?

A/N: This was an anonymous request, thank you SO MUCH for sending this in!! It’s my first request and it was so much fun to write!! I love soft Hotch so, so much. I’m sorry this took so long to get out. I was sick on and off for like two weeks straight, it was a whole thing. I hope you like this!!

masterlist || read on ao3

“I’ll make popcorn and open the wine, you pick the movie. We’ll meet back on the couch in ten minutes,” Aaron said quickly as he pressed a kiss to your cheek before making his way to his kitchen.

  You giggled at your boyfriend’s eagerness as soon as he opened the door to his apartment. Truth be told, you couldn’t blame him, though. It was rare that the two of you ever really got the chance to just hang out at his apartment. Whenever Aaron was home, he liked to spend as much free time with his son as possible, which you completely understood. So between spending time with Jack and Aaron being away on cases, you lived for these small moments of alone time and domesticity. 

  “You might regret letting me pick the movie, my love,” you called to him jokingly as you sat down in front of his TV, looking for where the remote was hiding. “I am very loyal to my early 2000’s chick flicks.”

  The sound of Aaron’s laughter floating through his apartment made your heart swell. He had never been the tough, FBI unit chief around you, but he was also rarely so carefree and light. There was always a shield around him, especially with the way he would carefully choose his words so as to not give away too much of himself. He was always so guarded and unwavering.

  Aaron poked his head out of the kitchen, hair falling in his eyes. “In the interest of honesty, I’m fully planning on moving this to the bedroom before we even get halfway through the movie,” he admitted, his voice carrying even over the sound of popcorn in the microwave.

You giggled again and shook your head fondly, unable to stop the smile spread across your face at his words. Seeing him be so playful was like a gift — always a surprise, but never unwelcome. You lived for those small glimpses of the man you knew he was.

  Aaron went back to choosing the perfect movie night wine and you settled on the couch, turning on the TV and ready to pick out the goofiest, most feel-good movie you could find. Before you could pull Netflix up, however, the DVD that was already in the television began playing.

  The film was grainy and the camera work was shaky at best, so you weren’t sure exactly what you were watching at first. There was a church in the background and men dressed in nice suits. Kids dressed in their Sunday best ran around in the grass. The camera panned over to a couple who were clearly getting married, going by the big white dress the woman was wearing.

  The camera zoomed in on the couple and your heart dropped to your stomach, because there, right in the center of the screen was Aaron. It was a much younger version of him, of course, probably law school, but it was definitely him. 

  Oh god, this was his wedding video. Which meant that the beautiful, blushing bride wrapped in his arms and making him throw his head back in laughter was Haley.

  Aaron had told you about Haley and everything that had happened between the two of them right up to her murder pretty early on in your relationship with him, but then it was never really mentioned again. But you had heard the whispers on nights out with his team, listened to them all gossip amongst themselves about how “I never thought Hotch was ever going to move on?” .

  Despite every logical bone in your body screaming at you to change the film before Aaron came back into the living room, you couldn’t help but watch in morbid fascination. The Aaron on the screen was so different from the man you had come to love.

  You watched as the film Aaron spun Haley in circles and peppered her entire face in kisses. The entire time, they never once stopped touching each other, even if it was something as simple as holding each other’s hands. Aaron kept glancing over at Haley with the biggest heart eyes you had ever seen, and it was nothing like the way Aaron had ever looked at you. Even when the couple was supposed to be paying attention to the people giving speeches around them, Haley and Aaron kept sneaking glances at each other, mouthing “I love you” like it was the only thing they could think to say.

  Aaron looked so happy and so free and it was so unlike the man in the other room. In the year and a half you had been dating him, you had never seen Aaron with a smile so big. He never gave you PDA so freely, and it wasn’t something you realized you even wanted until you saw him do it with somebody else. Suddenly, you wanted to feel young and reckless and dizzy in love the way he looked back in the film.

  It was unfair to ask him to live every day with you feeling like it was his wedding day, and you knew it. Still, something stirred inside of you that made you crave for Aaron to look at you like that, even just once.

  What you had with Aaron now was safe and a certifiable “adult” relationship. Not to say it wasn’t nice, and there was plenty of passion and fun in it. All of your friends constantly expressed how envious they were that you had found somebody who was so stable yet still unpredictable and could sweep you off your feet with romantic dates under the stars. Being with Aaron felt like home for you, and you had always thought that he felt the same, although now you weren’t sure. It had never occurred to you that Aaron may not have ever really gotten over his first love.

  The microwave beeped, signaling that the popcorn was done and that Aaron would be back in the living room at any second, and you quickly switched the TV to Netflix, clicking whatever movie popped up first, not even bothering to look at the title. 

  Just in time, too, because not long after, Aaron made his way over to the couch, precariously carrying a bowl of popcorn, two wine glasses, and a bottle of a sweet red wine that had become a go-to for you both. He generally preferred red wine, but you hated the dryness of it and basically only drank sweet, dessert wines, so when the two of you found this one, it had seemed like fate. Most of your relationship with him felt like fate, honestly.

  You forced yourself not to think about the fact that Aaron was happily drinking white wine in the wedding video.

  “Either the definition of ‘chick flick’ has changed drastically,” Aaron started, plopping down next to you. “Or Mad Max is very different from what I remember.”

  “I decided to change it up, put on a movie neither of us will be invested in,” you lied, desperately fighting to keep your voice even. “That way we can move right into the bedroom portion of the night.”

  “I like the way you think, sweetheart,” he chuckled, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. His thigh was pressed against yours, but even then, he felt a million miles away from you.

  It was unfair to get so worked up over this whole wedding video thing, and you knew that. His time with Haley had ended long before he had even met you, and logically, you knew that people could fall in love multiple times. Still, that didn’t quell the anxiety that was bubbling in your stomach, making you queasy.

  Why was he even watching that video, anyway? Did he often sit right there on the very couch you were cuddling with him on and rewatch the happiest day of his life? After a date with you, did he ever come home conflicted about his own emotions and feeling guilty for moving on, and go down memory lane to remind himself who his real true love was? 

  You kept thinking about how giddy he had looked in that video, and how easy it had seemed for him to be with her. And Haley… God, how could you compete?

  She was stunning, no doubt about it, with her blonde hair and bright eyes that shined, even through shitty 90’s video camera quality. The pink on her soft-looking lips only seemed to make Aaron want to kiss them more and more, maybe to see if he could smudge her lipstick. It never once budged, though, because of course it didn’t. She seemed too perfect to have faded lipstick on her wedding day. She had floated across the makeshift dance floor, like a fucking Disney princess leaving a trail of fairy dust and sunshine everywhere she went. Everything about her seemed soft and kind and good, all things you had never once associated with yourself.

  It was no surprise that Aaron had decided he was going to marry her from the first time he saw her, as he had said in his vows. She was everything you could have ever wanted to be, and clearly, she was everything Aaron had ever wanted.

  Aaron’s voice snapped you out of your rapid descent into crippling insecurity. “I can hear you thinking from here, honey.”

  You took a long sip of your wine, avoiding his piercing gaze. “I’m just concentrating on the movie,” you lied.

  “The movie you picked specifically so that we didn’t have to pay attention?” he retorted, eyebrows raised. Really, you should have known better than to try and give him such a blatant lie. Aaron reached over you to grab the remote and paused the movie, placing his hand lightly on your knee. “What’s going on?”

  How could you even explain what you were feeling? It definitely wasn’t jealousy, although you almost wished it was. At least with jealousy, you could push it to the side as an awful, gross feeling that comes from years of internalized misogyny and being told that other women are inherently competition for the attention of men. You could deal with that feeling.

  But it wasn’t that at all. Despite Aaron’s obvious devotion to her, you found it hard (and a little twisted, if you were being completely honest) to be jealous of a woman who was violently murdered in her own home in front of her young child. Besides, jealousy would imply that you and Haley were on somewhat equal ground, which you so clearly weren’t. 

  Haley was his high school sweetheart, the love of his life, the woman he had chosen to have children with, and you…

  Well, at one point you thought you could have been that, too, but now you were faced with the fear that you were nothing more than a person to fill the hole in his heart that Haley had left. Even worse, however, was the sinking feeling that you weren’t sure if you were ever going to be enough to fill it completely. 

  “It’s stupid,” you stuttered out, avoiding Aaron’s eyes, which were so full of concern. That was the worst part. It would be one thing if Aaron didn’t love you, but he did love you. Just not in the way he loved her. “Don’t worry about me.”

  “It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”

  “I—” You cut yourself off with a sigh and shifted on the couch so that you were facing him. “Am I enough for you?”

  Aaron looked about as taken aback by your question as you felt. You hadn’t meant to burst through the gate with that particular insecurity.

  “Are you enough for me?” he repeated slowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, like the question didn’t make any sense. In all honesty, it probably didn’t. “If you mean ‘am I happy with you’, then yes. Incredibly. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

  That should have made you feel better, but it wasn’t the answer you were looking for. You absentmindedly picked at a loose thread on your sweater. “I saw your wedding video,” you admitted shamefully. It felt like you were a little kid getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “And, I don’t know… You looked so happy and so… alive with her. That’s a once-in-a-lifetime love, Aaron. I’m never going to be able to be that for you.”

  Aaron’s frown deepened, and for a moment you were worried that he was going to get angry at you for watching the video. Maybe you had tainted that one happy memory for him. But the lines on his face softened just a bit and he covered your hand with both of his.

  “Have you always felt like this?” he asked cautiously, attempting to keep all emotion off his face. “Like you’re not… enough?”

  You shrugged. “Sometimes. If I think about it too much. Especially when we first started dating. But never this intense. I guess since I had only heard stories of her, it was almost like she didn’t exist? But now that I’ve seen her and how you looked at her… I love you so much and I want you to be happy, but I’m scared I can’t be that for you. I’m sorry if I’ve crossed a line, but this has been eating me up from the inside for a while now and I—”

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Aaron cut you off mid-ramble, and you took a shuddering breath. Guilt was written all over him, which made you want to crawl into a hole and never be heard from again. “Have I done anything to make you think I’m unhappy?”

  “No, of course not! You’ve been nothing but wonderful. But I’m not Haley. I can’t make you as happy as she made you. And maybe this is selfish of me, but it hurts to know that you don’t love me the way you loved her.”

  Aaron’s frown deepened, but he still held on tightly to your hand. “I didn’t think you would want me to,” he said, and now it was your turn to be confused.

  You could practically see the gears turning in Aaron’s mind as he tried to find the right words to verbalize the floodgate of emotions that had just opened. Being vulnerable and open about his feelings wasn’t something he was very comfortable with, and it definitely didn't come easy for him. The fact that he was trying and willing gave you some comfort.

  “What I mean to say is…” he backtracked. “You’re right. You’re not Haley and the way I loved her is different from the way I love you. I love you differently because you’re different. And I’m different now, too. But different doesn’t mean less, and it never has. I would never want you to think that you’re just some consolation prize.”

  He was looking at you with such intensity and sincerity that you could have cried. “It’s just that when I realized you had been rewatching your wedding, I kept thinking that maybe she was your one love,” you explained nervously. “I don’t know what that leaves me.”

  Aaron took your hand that he was holding and moved it so that it rested on his chest and you could feel his heartbeat. “My love isn’t finite. I’m sorry if I made you feel that way.”

  You melted into his touch, and it was like the sun came peeking through the storm clouds. He didn’t have the exact same expression that 25-year-old him did on the wedding video, but it was something close. Maybe even something more. It was warm and inviting and felt like coming home after a long day. 

  “You’ve been nothing but the picture-perfect boyfriend,” you assured. “This is all me and my own insecurities. I saw that you had been watching the video and I just… spiraled, I guess.”

  Aaron mindlessly rubbed his thumb back and forth on your hand. “I should probably explain why I was watching it, then.”

  “God, no, you don’t owe me any explanations for what you—”

  “I was showing Jack,” Aaron interrupted, his voice soft. “He doesn’t remember her that much, and he definitely doesn’t remember when we were married. Most of his memories are of fighting or divorced parents. I wanted to show him that his parents loved each other.”

  Your face went hot as embarrassment spread through you. “Wow, that makes perfect sense and I feel like an idiot,” you breathed. “I’m sorry.”

  Aaron pressed a chaste kiss to your lips as he stood up from the couch. “You’re not an idiot, and you have nothing to be sorry for,” he promised. “Come on, let’s get changed into something a little nicer.”

  You looked down in confusion as your movie night outfit. “Why?”

  A mischievous glint flashed in Aaron’s eyes as he bent down and gave you another kiss, one much less chaste than the one before. “Because,” he mumbled against your lips. “I’m going to take you on a date and show you just how much I love you.”

[wallwriterstuff]

When You’re Lost, I’ll Leave My Gaslight On ||Yandere!Alec Volturi x Female Reader||

A request by @tiger-khans-blog Part 1: Obsession  Part 3: These Violent Delights 

Warnings: Yandere!Alec, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships and implied non-con later on. This is possibly one of the darkest fics I have ever written so please be aware if controlling behaviour, gaslighting etc. is triggering to you, do not read this fic. 

The following link will take you to a Citizen’s Advice Page that have resources regarding Domestic abuse and violence. They detail various organisations offering support, refuge and advice for both women and men in abusive situations, however these only apply to the UK.

https://www.citizensadvice.org.uk/family/gender-violence/domestic-violence-and-abuse-getting-help/

I am from the UK and therefore am not sure about what resources may be available internationally, however I know many of you are from places outwith the UK. If you have any resources you know of that would be useful or helpful to add here then please do! You can reblog this post with link in or message me a link to have me edit it into the original. I will post this link and any that get added in all three parts of this fic that I post.

Words: 4,436 

Summary:  Alec’s actions earned him some time in the dungeons of Volterra, and he really seems to be trying his best to behave himself the second time around. However, as your relationship with him blossoms, you find yourself growing more and more insecure, unsure if things are really as they seem to be. Your descent into madness seems much slower than Alice’s fall down the rabbit hole. 

Bella didn’t even write to you. Nor did Alice or Edward, or Emmet or Jasper. Only Carlisle had bothered to contact you, expressing his deepest regret you had gotten tangled up in all of this and his promise to speak to Aro on your behalf. Carlisle’s efforts had granted you your own quarters on the opposite side of the castle, smaller and far less grand than the ones you had woken up in but entirely yours to decorate how you pleased; at least, that was what Felix and Demetri had decided. The silence from back home was bad enough but on top of that you had to come to terms with the fact you were now forced to live with vampires who had little to no respect for human life, one of which had a mental gift she had loved to use on you as punishment for turning her brother against her as she put it.

To say you were depressed would have been an understatement.

It felt beyond impossible to consider feeling anything remotely positive when nothing seemed to go right for you. The secretaries who brought you food were the only interaction you had for the first few days and they were mostly too afraid to stick around and talk to you after hearing you were Alec’s mate. You had been utterly and entirely alone. Unbeknownst to you, this was a test, one you failed miserably, and after they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of you by day 4 of your stay with them Felix and Demetri had taken it upon themselves to visit you. They were quite patient, letting you stay as far from them as you wanted while they invaded what had become your safe space, those unblinking red eyes taking in the sparse walls and boring, plain wood desk and doors. It was then that Felix had spoken up about decorating and Demetri has enthusiastically agreed this was a wonderful idea.

Felix, it turned out, was quite the talented artist. Looking at the brute you’d never imagined he could hold a pencil without snapping it in half, but he had drawn up the most beautiful sketches you could imagine as you told them what your bedroom back home had looked like, and how you had wanted to decorate it with your father. They had let you cry again at that point and looking back on it it was rather amusing to watch the two immortals – who physically had lacked the ability to tear up for over a millennia now – share a panic stricken look and throw tissues at you. By the end of the week, they had come back to your room with everything they would need for their DIY project and helped you start painting your room. You had been a little overwhelmed at their kindness, but both had waved it off as nothing and whenever they got the chance over the next week, they had helped you decorate.

You had shared music tastes, let Demetri try to interest you in poetry (even if he had failed dramatically) and even sat to watch a movie with them once while you had lunch. Still, it didn’t feel like home, just an escape from an abysmal reality.

“You know, he will be freed tomorrow.” Felix said quietly. You were in the middle of stringing up some fairy lights around the canopy of your bed when the news rendered you immobile. You barely remembered to breathe until Demetri very gently touched your waist and helped you down from your bed before you fell.

“I don’t want him to be.” You whispered, eyes ducking away from theirs. Alec had been their friend for far longer after all and the confession was cruel. Demetri sighed slightly.

“We have visited him once or twice, spoken to him. He truly does feel awful about what happened.” He promised you. It was very obvious on your face you didn’t believe him, and even if you did you were certain Alec’s behaviour was not normal, it didn’t eradicate your fear to know he wished it never happened when it seemed like he had had no control over it in the first place. If he couldn’t control it, it could very well happen again. Felix watched you carefully as you sat back against the headboard, curling your knees to your chest.

“Why…why was he like that? Is it – I mean could he…will he be like that again?” you swallowed, mouth a little dry as your heart fluttered in your chest. You felt sick, suddenly no longer curious about whatever dinner the new secretary might bring. Gianna had stopped showing up two days ago and you didn’t need to ask to know why. They shared a side long look, Felix going back to putting together the bookshelf you had repainted with him. It was a bit of a pattern, that Demetri handled your more sensitive questions – Felix just didn’t have the tact or patience for them.

“You remember our discussion on the transformation process? How we are frozen at the stage of growth we are at when we turn?” he questioned, waiting for you to nod before continuing, “Alec was turned no older than you are now, just 16, you know yourself from growing up I’m sure what a volatile time that can be. It is not that Alec wishes to scare you, just that the violence of his feelings is something he will have to learn to control.”

“The violence of his feelings?” you asked warily. Demetri hummed, head tilting.

“We feel emotion far more intensely than you, little human. Our bodies are frozen but heightened, so that we might experience everything to the fullest extent and therefore miss out on nothing. Alec is essentially a teenager seeing the girl he has a rather potent crush on for the first time, the mate pull was both entirely unexpected and strong. He admitted himself he had no way of controlling his own actions but he has meditated and spoken to master Marcus for help since. He really does not wish to put you through that again.” Demetri assured you.

“You have to give the boy some reprieve, he wasn’t exactly having fun either. Alec prides himself on his self-control, your appearance tossed it right out of the window.” Felix pointed out. You hung your head, brows furrowed. It sounded an awful lot to you like they were defending the inexcusable behaviour. He’s just a boy, he couldn’t control it, it’s not his fault…well, it didn’t change the fact it had hurt you. It had traumatised you really, so much so that even when you replayed Demetri’s words in your head in an effort to help calm yourself you still found no sleep that night knowing Alec would be at your door tomorrow.

Except he wasn’t.

He didn’t come the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that, and you hated that you were beginning to wonder if he was ever coming at all. Was this a new, peculiar kind of torture? Making you wait for him? Every knock at the door made you jump the first day or two but after that you slowly began to unwind, your heavy heart coming to the conclusion he maybe wasn’t coming back, that he felt it better to stay away from you. You almost passed out when he finally did show up at your door, standing behind Demetri as still as stone and looking jut as perfect as any sculpture could. It really wasn’t fair the boy was so pretty. Demetri gave you a warm smile.

“Good evening Y/N, do you mind if we come in little human?” he asked. You hesitated. Did you want Alec in your safe space? Your room was your sanctuary, decorated how you liked with no trace of Alec inside it as of yet. He seemed to notice your hesitation and you were surprised to see just how much anguish it brought him.

“If you prefer, we could take a walk around the Gardens? Demetri says you haven’t left your room much.” Alec said. His voice was softer now, no longer did it have the rough edge to it it had held in the throne room. You swallowed thickly, slowly nodding your head, and moved to get your shoes from by the door. Alec inhaled sharply as the shirt you were wearing rode up slightly. His arms had left to sizable bruises on your torso and he had obviously seen them. You weren’t expecting him to look so torn up about it. Demetri glanced between you both, his eyes knowing.

“I would suggest a jumper, the evenings can be somewhat chillier.” He advised. You nodded, crossing to your closet. Once you were ready, you shut the door firmly behind you and stuck close to Demetri’s side, much to Alec’s obvious ire, but the boy kept himself in check with remarkable discipline that gave you hope he could maybe be better.

“How are you?” he asked, his voice strained. Your hair fell, covering your eyes until you pushed it back with a quick nod.

“I’m okay. How are you?” the small talk was entirely forced and thoroughly unpleasant, but Demetri stood firm between you two, absorbing it all. You were more than a little grateful.

“I have…been better,” Alec confessed, “Demetri explained the…difficulty, I’m having in being around you?” he asked. The strain in his voice was growing more obvious again now but one look from Demetri forced him to settle as you shuddered, memory flashing to the violent grip his arms had on you. If he noticed your hand subconsciously go to your bruised flesh, he didn’t comment on it.

“He told me you couldn’t control your feelings.” You said quietly. Alec huffed, eyes flashing with irritation.

“It’s as upsetting to me as it is to you, to think a mere human would make me so…so…” he trailed off, trying to choose the right word. You prompted him, curious to see what he would choose. “Obsessed.” He settled for the word with such a flat tone you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around yourself, mind reeling. It wasn’t a good word. It wasn’t your preferred word. Carlisle and Esme had been mates, hadn’t they? Rosalie and Emmett? Alice and Jasper? They had proven to you if nothing else that mates should be loving, kind. It was a relationship based on mutual attraction and desire, caring, not one person’s obsession with another. It was an unhealthy word.

“Why don’t you tell Alec of our trip to the market the other week?” Demetri hedged. He was clearly acting as chaperone today as you headed out into the fading sunlight. The Gardens of Castello Volterra were magnificent, kept tidy and neat and bursting with colour. A massive expanse of green dotted with vibrant hues of flowerbeds and glorious leafy sculptures in shapes you could recognise. Horses, chess pieces. Your answers were short, quiet, and Alec seemed to have moments he was incredibly open and vulnerable before he became a little more robotic, his control slipping when he found his emotions getting the best of him again. The amount of effort he put into his composure really astounded you, and by the time you were half-way around the Walled Garden you were actually starting to feel a little bit bad. Clearly your presence really did make him suffer.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” He admitted finally, fists clenched at his sides. With a sharp exhale, Alec turned to you, ruby red eyes darkening as soon as they made contact with your own Y/E/C.

“Alec-“

“Y/N, I have tortured myself over the way I behaved towards you. I am truly sorry I ever laid a hand on you. I hope that as I work on controlling myself around you, you work on being able to forgive me for that.” Alec cut Demetri off, his body rigid with tension and eyes flickering to the very slight gap left between you and the tracker as you moved closer out of instinct to the person you trusted most out of the two of them. His nostrils flared, seemingly annoyed by it.

“I…can try. But you need to promise me Alec, promise me you won’t hurt me like that ever again.” You said. Truthfully you were intrigued by him. Demetri had told you you would also feel the mate pull eventually, though not as strongly as Alec did, and your curiosity to know more about the witch twin was the start of a very deep dark hole you were about to fall into. The air turned almost ominous, like that strange moment between hearing thunder and waiting to see if there would be lightning.

“I won’t make you promises I can’t keep.” Alec’s voice was all that was left of him, as he was gone by the time you blinked again. Demetri sighed slightly, though he tried to perk up his expression when he realised you were looking helplessly to him for answers.

“Well, that went rather well, do you not agree?” he asked. What had Alec meant? He had done so well today. Clearly he was getting the hang of controlling his emotions, he could be less of a threat. You had rather liked the sweeter side of Alec you had glimpsed today, the side that told you about how Jane had planted the peonies and had chased Felix quite literally out of the city when he accidentally trampled on them once, just to hear you laugh. You liked the side of Alec that had quietly complimented the way your hair reflected the dying light while you stood and admired another topiary.

A month passed this way before you finally felt comfortable enough to be around Alec on your own. He had really tried hard to become a better man for you and it showed. His smiles were more natural and he found it easier to relax in your presence, no more uptight Alec that left you wandering when he would snap. Felix and Demetri had continued to chaperone your dates for all that time until you finally asked one night if you might be allowed to be with Alec on your own for a little bit. Demetri had enthusiastically agreed, both Guards seemingly happy you were finally letting their friend have his chance. Alec seemed to sense your nerves when you appeared in the library, where you’d both agreed to meet for an hour to two to test the waters. He was more relaxed than you’d ever seen him, leaning back against the sofa with his eyes closed while he listened to some far-off birdsong you couldn’t hear, or so you imagined.

“I wasn’t sure you would come.” He admitted. You smiled slightly, pulling your sketchbook from your bag as you sat on the opposite sofa to him.

“I said I would,” You reminded him. Alec smiled slightly, head bobbing in agreement. “What are you reading?” you asked. Alec glanced to the book beside him.

“The Picture of Dorian Gray, though I confess myself bored of it. Wilde has never been my preferred author.” Alec answered, sitting up and eyeing your sketchbook with interest. You didn’t notice, too busy flipping through your pages to find the sketch you were working on now. The lines were already drawn, you had just wanted to finish your shading today.

“How is Jane?” you asked. You wanted to chase away the silence and figured it would be a nice way to maybe broach the topic that she had avoided you like the plague. Alec didn’t answer you and when you looked up to see why you saw his eyes fixated on your sketch, nothing but awe painting his face. You flushed a deep shade of red.

“Beautiful and talented, little human.” He breathed. You were fairly sure you weren’t supposed to hear, but it only made your blush darken. It was nothing worthy of a spot in the Louvre, just a sketch of the view from the fountain in the plaza looking down one of Volterra’s many alleyways. You tucked some hair behind your ear with a small smile.

“Thank you,” you said softly, “I started it the other day, when Demetri took me to that café I told you about? Where they do those really nice pastries?” As if a switch had been flipped Alec’s face shut off, all expression wiped away and an impassive mask replacing it. It had happened so fast you were unsure anything other than apathy had ever painted his face in the first place.

“Demetri takes you out often.” He noted. There was nothing his tone or his face to give away his feelings about that, but a strong sense of foreboding settled in your gut. You shut your sketchbook, knowing deep in your chest that the damage was already done. The atmosphere in the room had changed drastically, becoming charged and electric, like it was filled with current just waiting to frazzle and consume you whole.

“Yeah…it’s nice to get out of the castle, and it’s not like I’m a prison so why shouldn’t I see the city I’ve got to live in now?” you rambled ever so slightly, voice wavering a bit, but Alec’s expression changed so quickly you were sure he was trying to give you whiplash. With a laugh he nodded his head.

“Of course.” He made no further comment and you descended into silence again until it was time to leave, your sketchbook long abandoned and your eyes fixed on him, waiting for his mood to shift again. He was perfectly respectable in every other way however, his silence easy to brush off as nothing when he kissed your knuckles chivalrously after walking you back to your room. He still hadn’t set foot in it yet despite his obvious intrigue, waiting for you to invite him in personally. When the door closed behind you, you released a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. The whole evening had gone far better than expected even with the few minor road bumps. In fact, Alec’s mood seemed to do an entire 180 compared to how he had been when you first met. He was pleasant, charming even. That was where the problem started.

One night, he bought you flowers and a pastry from your favourite café, remembering the exact kind you liked and bringing it to your door so you could enjoy a walk with him in the Gardens once more, watching the stars come out. You’d passed Felix in the corridor and waved but the giant had hurried by as though he hadn’t seen you. A few days after that Alec had promised to take you out to the markets, but the weather had been too bright for him apparently even though you had argued it was overcast enough that the chances of him exposing himself were slim to none. He had come to your room with new sketching pencils that night, an apology gift to make it up to you, he said.

It had become a theme though, you noticed. Alec would promise to take you somewhere, and then he would find one way or another to weasel his way out of taking you out.

“I never promised you anything, I said we might, your imaging things.” He would dismiss it the same way every time and always follow up with a nice gesture that made you feel bad for questioning him on it. He really did feel guilty about you not getting to go out, didn’t he? It wasn’t just that though either, it was Demetri and Felix’s absence in your life that had grown concerning. You were conscious you hadn’t seen your friends for quite some time, Alec always claiming they were busy with guard duty or some other task, yet when you caught Demetri in the corridor once he had brushed you off with the enough regret in his eyes that it made you question Alec’s entire story.

“But they always found time to at least say hello to me before, so why-“

“Y/N, my love I don’t wish to upset you, but do you really think they were ever your friends?” Alec asked. You blinked, frowning in confusion.

“Of course they’re my friends! We decorated my room together and they helped us get to know each other. I just don’t get why they aren’t around anymore.” You huffed. Alec ran his hand down your arm gently, your skin tingling at the ice-cold contact. He had slowly started to incorporate physical affection into your relationship, and you would be lying if you said you weren’t thrilled with the little touches. It was a far cry from the rough embrace he had given you nearly two months ago.

“They were fulfilling a duty tesoro, you required a room and at the Masters request they built you one, and do you really think one little human can go unguarded in this place? They were your sentries, not your friends.” His expression was so sympathetic you wondered how you couldn’t not believe him, and he’d held you to him as you cried over their obvious betrayal. As weeks dragged into another month though your anxiety only grew, and it didn’t make sense. Things between you and Alec were really good. He had much more control now and he was affectionate and sweet, always giving you little gifts and making time in his day to see you even if no one else would, but something was just…wrong. You were sure you were going mad.

You wrote home frequently to the Cullen’s so they could pass letters on to Bella, but those letters sometimes went missing and despite being sure you wrote them, Alec assured you you hadn’t and he had never seen them materialise. As sweet as he was Alec always put down your clumsy little accidents to you being human to, laughing when you tripped into his arms or holding his breath as he cleaned up scrapes for you with that dreaded little saying of his.

“You’re only human Y/N.” he chuckled, as he carefully placed a band aid around the finger you had accidentally cut while cooking yourself dinner. You sighed dejectedly.

“I wish you’d stop saying that.” You admitted. It felt like you weren’t good enough. Your human needs were a bother to him, that much was clear. He always had to take time to make sure you had something to eat when he really just wanted to spend his free hours with you. Most of the time when he was free you were asleep and you could only imagine how boring it must be for him to have to spend so much time alone when you were across the castle, sleeping peacefully. Bathroom breaks were another thing that gave you almost nauseating anxiety now to, and you’d scrubbed your body pink on multiple occasions wondering if your personal hygiene was assaulting his nose or not after a day or two without showering.

You needed to clear your head, you decided, so a trip to your café was in order. Alec wouldn’t be able to take you you knew, not with the sun as bright as it was right then. It would fade quickly given the late time of year but you left a note just in case Alec wondered across your empty room. It felt good, to get fresh air and to sit in a window seat, watching the world go by without a care as sweet pastry melted in your mouth. You had brought a book with you to enjoy to, a fantasy world to escape to for a little bit before your old anxieties came crawling back in. Though your relationship with Alec was as yet undefined, you felt like you were to blame for that due to your inferior status. After all, what could you possible bring to a relationship with him that would make him want to call you his mate? You were only human after all.

“Now what are you doing here little human?” Demetri’s voice startled you so much you dropped your book to the tabletop with a gasp. Heart fluttering, you couldn’t help but laugh breathless, if only to ease the tension.

“Demetri, god you scared the hell out of me.” You swallowed, not liking the way he was frowning at you.

“Well you can consider us even then.” He said, arms folding across his chest. You felt a lot like you were a child being scolded in that moment.

“What?” you asked.

“You heard me. You cannot just leave the castle Y/N, not without telling someone or at least leaving a note. There was an uproar when Alec found you gone, we thought something had happened to you.” He chided. Your frown deepened.

“But I did leave a note, I taped it to my door so Alec would see.” You protested. Demetri’s eyebrows rose.

“Not according to Alec. He found no note and I did not see anything resembling one when I came to your room to see what the fuss was about. Come on, you have had your fun. A harmless misunderstanding it may be but you will be in for a scolding from the Masters.” he sighed, holding a hand to help you out of your chair. Your stomach twisted. You were going to have to see the Masters because you’d gone out for coffee? How had Alec missed your note? You were sure you had left it on the door for him! You remembered the schluuuuck sound of sticky tape and everything as you taped it up!

“But Demetri, I swear I left a note.” You said, packing away your things as your good mood crumbled. Demetri was quiet for a moment.

“Perhaps you did and it was overlooked, either way you have scared us all enough for one day.” He took your bag from you like the gentleman he was, escorting you back to the castle. You were so sure you had left that note for Alec, as sure as you were about your own name, but what if you hadn’t? You resolved to steel your nerves for now, take your scolding and ensure you left one next time. Hell, next time you would even tell the secretary to go and tell Alec in the throne room just to be safe. You weren’t going to worry your mate like this again, it wasn’t going to become a pattern.

How wrong you were.

[juminly]

Le Comte de Saint-Germain as Your Lover 

These headcanons were inspired by a few songs and if and only if I’m to turn this into a series, it will be called: The Darkness of Love. 

Lyrics/songs that inspired this:

“Is there anything I could do, just to get some attention from you? In the waves, I've lost every trace of you. Where are you?” - I Love You (Quintet Version) by Woodkid “The curves on your body become waves and swallow me up, I keep sinking, Your body temperature keeps me live, I’m trapped in your arms like this, let me hide. Feels like I’m surfing in your heart, Feels like I’m falling into the waves, Into you I wanna dive, In your heart, I wanna hide”- Dive by Jooyoung

Warning: fluff, possessiveness, suggestive and mild NSFW content, a bit of angst.

You are Comte’s treasure and he is prepared to do everything possible to ensure that you know it, feel it, see it and believe it.

Pampering you with lavish gifts , even if you don’t even ask for them, even if you didn’t want them, he would always want to let you know that he can and absolutely will go the extra mile for you. Travel the entire world for you if he has to. Give you the world on a plate made of gold.

This might make you think that he is extreme in his affections and to be completely honest, you’re not really wrong to perceive things in that manner. This would manifest not only in your domestic life but also behind closed doors, in your intimate relationship.

Comte was no poet. Or, that’s what everyone thought.

Alexandrines whispered in your ear, sonnets murmur against your skin as he peeled each and every single layer that would dare separate him from you.

Shakespeare, Honoré de Balzac (I bring him up a lot because his love letters are some of the most beautiful creations), Baudelaire and many more held nothing against this man.

The words that spilled from his lips would make you tremble, heat building in your core and sending shivers over your skin, the words he would write to you and for you would be enough to make men and women all over the world weep, yearning for a lover like him. Yet, you were the lucky one that was chosen by him, the one his heart has chosen and he was fortunate enough to be chosen by you.

Comte wanted to surround you with his love in your every waking moment, even in your dreams. Every time you close your eyes, every time you take a breath or at every beat of your heart, he wanted to be there. A part of you… just like you were a part of him. 

Your blood was not only his sustenance but one of the reasons he was alive and well.

You owned him and had him caught under your spell. Once a broken man, he was now even more breakable than ever before. You could do anything to him… but as long as he had you in his life, in any shape or form, he would be happy.

Louis Aragon had said: “by the time we learn to live it’s already too late”. Comte had an eternity to live… but you didn’t. Whether he turned you into a vampire or you remained human, you would still be vulnerable and a victim of the human condition… as ironic as that sounds.

The happiness that he held onto so tightly, was as ephemeral and fleeting as the life of cherry blossoms. One day, you would be taken away from him… whether he liked it or not. Deep down, he has hidden those dark thoughts, stored them away… far from your reach so you wouldn’t be affected by the vileness of despair.

Comte would treat you like a Goddess and worship you, every single day of his life, as if it were his last day on Earth, despite him being a pureblood.

Your body is his temple, your heart is his shrine and your heart is his most prized treasure.

As Pablo Neruda said, Comte wanted to do to you what the spring does with the cherry trees. Comte would be selfless in the abandon of pleasure that he gave you but his intentions were always not necessarily so.

Splayed before him on the bed that you shared, his lips would worship you with tender kisses, tasting and caressing every inch of your skin. The gentle touch of his hands as he explored the depth of your love for him, coaxing you to show him how much you truly loved him. Your cries, your moans, your whimpers, they were what he wanted but they were still not enough. 

They would never be enough to calm the raging storm in his heart and his soul. Comte would be selfish, the only thought spurring him on was to have you only think of him, his name the only prayer that falls from your bitten lips and tears trickling down your heated cheeks.

As he would ravage you for hours, long nights where you would bathe in nothing but the moonlight that kissed your skin and Comte. He did this quite often, without even taking you. Making love to you with his words, tearing you apart until you saw stars with his lips... his tongue... his teeth and heaven was where he was, whenever he touched you with feather-light caresses. Claim you as his, over and over again until you would eventually succumb to sleep.

You would not dare look into his topaz orbs, in fear of being consumed by the desperate yearning that they exuded. But you couldn’t… wouldn’t miss feeling yourself… drown in the sea of love that he was. You were not allowed to look away from him. He would never say it but everything about his wanton, vulnerable yet dominant demeanour expressed it.

Beneath the strong and graceful man that everyone knew, he was a man starved for your touch, your love and your affection and just a look in his eyes would make your chest tighten with pain, knowing how much this man is devoted to you.

He yearned for your warmth, to feel you writhing under his touch, the heat of your skin teasing his lips, the delicate sound of your heart beating loud in your chest and the invigorating rush of blood running through your veins… all signs that you were alive… and his. He would watch and take in every breath you took, every move you made, every step you took, he wanted all of you… all for himself. No one else.

He would seek your attention, all of it. Endlessly, relentlessly. He would be constantly chased by the thought of losing you, just like he has lost lovers before you. He is, was and always will be damned and cursed with immortality yet blessed to live a long life knowing that he was bestowed with pure bliss by having loved you and being loved by you.

He knows the day will come where he will lose you, where you will no longer be by his side and the void inside him that you had filled would be empty again. Under the veil of poise and utter grace that he wore would linger an abysmal apparition of what is left of a man.

Completely crazed and lost without you.

If he could, he would want to be the centre of your life… world…  your universe. If he could, he would keep you all to himself, away from everyone and everything in the world but he knew that it wouldn’t be possible.

It was eccentric behaviour that was not befitting of a man of his stature nor would it be right by you. Would you be happy isolated in a life where you only had him? 

Your life was already too short compared to his, so he could never do that to you, even if it was his strongest desire to do so.

You would be his princess that he pampered and spoiled. 

You would be the queen that reigned over his immortal heart. 

You would be the only Comtesse he always dreamed of.

You were his precious.

And he will make sure with every ounce of his being that you will be so, until the day where the fates forcefully bring your days to an end. 

Taglist: @kisara-16 @shhhlikeme @sweetlittlemouse @nafeary @ikefool Hope you enjoyed this 💜 Please feel free to leave comments/feedback! Masterlist Literary references, if you are interested: Pablo Neruda - Every Day You Play; Louis Aragon - There Is No Happy Love; Honoré de Balzac - Lettres à Madame Hanska

[theseshipsshallsail]

There’s a new club in the Village - Infinity emblazoned in bright, neon letters - and naturally, the building is jam-packed with society’s outcasts on its opening weekend. Oliver grimaces, pressing his third beer to the side of his face, yet the condensation does nothing to soothe his overheated skin. It’s like a furnace of writhing bodies, and with every bead of sweat that bisects his neck to soak into his collar, he can’t help but wonder why he ever agreed to come in the first place.  

“Drink up,” Vanessa says, brandishing a bright amber concoction as she slides into the booth opposite him. “You look like you need something a little stronger.”  

Oliver raises an eyebrow as he returns the bottle to the table, then plucks the wedge of orange peel from the rim of the proffered glass. It’s been three years since he tasted a negroni, and the potent combination of gin, Campari, and vermouth sends his mind reeling in directions he usually fights tooth and nail to avoid. 

“Remind me again why you brought me here?” he asks, trying not to wince at the bitter aftertaste. “This isn’t exactly my scene.”

Vanessa scoffs. “Well, if you ever left your study...”

“I’m up for promotion!”

“You’ll be up for an ulcer if you don’t slow down. Besides, you deserve to let loose after... you know.”

You know, meaning his divorce, and the eighteen month shit-storm that preceded it.

Vanessa has the office next to his, and in between general grousing about University politics they’ve become close friends. It helps, of course, that she understands his situation all too well, and even though her parents never tried to strong-arm her to the altar, she and her girlfriend still have to hide their relationship from the rest of their colleagues.

Oliver sighs as he takes a second sip of his drink. “It’ll take more than a one night stand to loosen me up,” he tells her, and the filthy smirk that curls Vanessa’s lips has him tempted to bang his forehead against the table.

“Whatever tickles your pickle, Professor.”

“Why do I put up with you?”

“Hell if I know.” Slurring somewhat, she taps their cocktails together, and Oliver laughs as she leans forward, poking him in the chest. “Listen, Ollie, you and Micol did a spectacular job of making yourselves miserable, but at least you stayed faithful ‘til the end. Why not enjoy yourself, yeah?” 

“Why not indeed?” 

He’s aiming for sarcastic, yet his tone falls somewhere short of exhausted. She’s right, he realises, but Oliver hasn’t had much interest in men or women for a while. He’s not so deep in denial to admit his heart still belongs to another, and being hopelessly in love with someone he can’t have has done a real number on his libido.

“Damn! This place is heaving!” Simone says, slumping in her seat when she returns from the bathroom. Slinging an arm around Vanessa’s shoulder she drops a quick kiss to her cheek, and Oliver averts his eyes, the casual intimacy leaving him yearning for the impossible. “A few too many student-types for my liking, though. Makes me feel like I’m back in the theatre department.”

“Makes me feel like I’m pushing thirty,” Oliver mutters, painfully aware of the significantly younger crowd as he tugs at the cheap material of his shirt. Too many curries and not enough exercise has made him self-conscious of the few extra pounds at his waistline, and depressingly, twenty-eight feels ancient in comparison. 

“You wanna call it a night?” Vanessa asks, and Oliver nods absently as his gaze catches on a couple in the middle of the dancefloor. 

Caught in a world of their own, they make a striking picture. The taller of the pair is bleached-blond and athletic, his arms wrapped tightly around the slim waist of the man in front of him in a surprisingly protective gesture. Oliver can’t see his partner clearly from this angle, but his skin is pale and shimmering as they move to the beat, dark curls falling in a tousled mess. Whether it’s by artful design or sweat-damp from dancing, he can’t quite tell, yet Oliver is hypnotized by the way they bounce as he loses himself to the music, obscuring his vision until the other man reaches forward, gently brushing them away.  

The bass pounds in his rib cage, and Oliver’s throat feels constricted as he watches the brunette link his hands behind his lover's neck. Profile half in shadows, he raises up on tiptoes to whisper in the shell of his ear, and Oliver experiences a crisis of tenderness when he butts their temples together. Something squirms in his stomach. Something raw and envious. Memories flare, unfair and brutal, and he immediately blames the burning of his retinas on the relentless assault of the strobe lights surrounding them. 

“Oliver? You okay?”

No. 

Definitely not.

The jostling crowd causes the blond to alter their position, and Oliver’s head spins from more than just the alcohol as his blood runs cold in his veins. 

“Elio…” he murmurs, vaguely aware of Vanessa’s stifled gasp when she tries to get a better look.

“Your Elio?”

He wants it not to be - wants his eyes to be deceiving him - yet there’s no denying the truth. All that he’s forgotten - all that he’s clung to - coalesces in a rush of unslaked longing, and between one blink and the next, Oliver remembers everything. 

“Not anymore,” he whispers, but then, why would he be? 

Elio was seventeen when they first met, and Oliver isn’t naive enough to think he hasn’t fallen in and out of love many times since then. He’s beautiful, intelligent, talented beyond measure. Was he really so arrogant to imagine he would still be single? Pining for him, maybe? Saving himself? And for what? A six week romance one too-hot Italian summer? Something his cowardice cut short with a long-distance phone call?

He was, wasn’t he?

Arrogant. 

And so very stupid.

“Of all the gay bars in all the world…” Vanessa takes a swig of her piña colada as he continues to spiral. “I thought you said he lived in Italy?” 

“He did,” Oliver replies, picking at his thumbnail. “He moved here for school.”

“And you didn't contact him?”

“To say what?” His ears ring from the shrillness of her tone. “Hey, Elio. Remember that time I broke both our hearts ‘cause I’m a gutless schmuck? How about I buy you a coffee to make up for it?”

“It would’ve been a start.”

“It would’ve been selfish,” he says, tearing his eyes away. “He has enough on his plate with Juilliard. I’d only get in the  -”

“Juilliard?” Simone’s low whistle interrupts his self-reproach. “Impressive.”

“Son of a professor,” Oliver explains. “I always knew he was a genius.” He gathers himself with a quiet huff. “Though he’ll probably say he knows nothing.” The spark of nostalgia is crippling, and it takes everything he has not to break down on the spot. “I should go,” he says, draining the remains of his drink as he rises to his feet. 

“Oliver -”

“Why don’t you come back to ours?” Vanessa offers, making to follow, but whatever expression is on his face causes Simone to catch her by the wrist.

“We’re here if you need us, alright?”

“I know,” he says, eternally grateful for their support as he pushes some cab money into her hand. “Get home safe. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

“You’d better,” Vanessa tells him, obstinate in her concern, yet all he can focus on right now is leaving.

The swirling thoughts inside his head are all-consuming, but Oliver is determined to reign in his emotions for a little while longer. Ignoring the way his shoes stick to the tacky vinyl flooring, he grits his teeth as he snakes his way through the crush of humanity. He needs space. Fresh air. Hell, a damn time machine wouldn’t go amiss. He has nobody to blame but himself, and he’s halfway to the exit sign when his pace grinds to a halt, his masochistic streak unable to resist one last glimpse. 

A flash of irrational panic makes him breathe in deep - hold it for a count of three - and when he turns to scan the roiling bodies that fill up the dance floor, he finds them immediately. The shock doesn’t lessen, and if Oliver thought his heart had broken when they’d clung to one another on a train station platform, it’s naught compared to when Elio tips the other man’s chin up with the same fingers that used to play his body like a finely tuned instrument. White noise fills his ears as he ghosts a kiss to his lips - two chaste pecks at first - and then harder. Hungry. Mouths open. Tongues swirling. Deep and dirty. 

Just the way he likes it.

Fool that he is, Oliver doesn’t turn away. But he’s not the only one. Their bawdy display has garnered a small audience of the jealous and horny, and when the cat-calls eventually die down he notices a clearly disappointed red-head stalk past them on route to her table of friends. 

Time has not domesticated him, it seems, and Oliver feels like crying as the world returns frame by frame - the oscillating pulse of the dance track. The lightning burst of colour from the laser system above. An innate sense of powerlessness floods through him - the depths of which he hasn’t experienced since Elio sobbed against his chest in an attic bedroom - and a heavy weight settles in his belly as he recognises the cues and rituals that were once directed at him alone. 

Elio has obviously flourished in his absence. His body language is looser, more relaxed, assured in a way his younger self could only dream of, and Oliver allows an almost-smile as the couple laugh for a moment before turning to walk away. 

His fingers itch for a cigarette - a habit he’s struggling to waive - and the next thing he knows he’s taking a seat at the bar, a double shot of bourbon in his hand he doesn’t remember ordering, and a screaming admonishment from his better judgement to not do anything stupid. 

All I had to do was find the courage to reach out and touch, Elio said once, rife with self-mockery, and Oliver’s advice was to try again later. Was this it? Their later? And if not now, when? Because whatever his feelings of bitterness - whatever his misguided envy - if he lets this opportunity pass him by, he will always wonder. Always look. 

In truth, he already does. 

Ever since Samuel mentioned Elio was moving to the States, he’s carried the idle fantasy of crossing paths in some random book store, eyes locking across a busy street, a name - his, theirs, both - shouted across a bustling coffee shop. Of all eventualities, though, he hasn’t prepared for an Elio who might not be happy to see him. Who might dismiss him. Cast him aside like some ill-fitting chapter in the editing process. The context is all wrong, and for it to happen like this is akin to being plunged into the icy waters of the berm.

“Accidenti!” an achingly familiar voice says from somewhere behind him. “Are all Americans incapable of taking a hint? Or is it just an East Coast thing?”

“It’s the accent, mio amico. Fries their brains.”

“Never mind their brains,” Elio replies in the same lazy drawl. “I think you’ve sprained my tonsils.”

There’s a snicker to his left, and like a moth to a flame, Oliver peers up into the mirror behind the bar, only to find his living nightmare mere meters away, sharing a cigarette. Elio’s still wearing the same bracelets he did that summer, and three years of sleepwalking collapses around him as Oliver hunches over, palms sweating. 

“Seriously though,” the blond continues. “Look at this place! Wall-to-wall entreés, and you won’t so much as skim the menu. You’re spoiled for choice, compagno.”

Elio scoffs as he brings the filter to his lips. “Didn’t I tell you choice is an illusion?”

“As is time, according to Adams.” The man slings an arm over his shoulders. “And here you are, free as a bird, wasting the perfect opportunity.” 

Elio flips him the middle finger. “Stronzo,” he says, leaving Oliver more confused than ever as he studies him over the rim of his glass. “It’s a curse.”

“Self-inflicted, maybe.”

“So what’s the answer? And don’t say forty-two.”

The guy chuckles. “Variety,” he says, signalling the harried bartender. “Things didn’t work out with the violinist - I get it. È la vita! You’re not in the mood for pushy red-heads? Fine. But don’t sell yourself short. Trust Fund Tina’s not the only one checking you out.”

“Perhaps.”

“What perhaps?” A knowing smirk shoots in Oliver’s direction. “See for yourself.”

It’s like experiencing the first tremor of an earthquake. Elio was always a force of nature, and bracing for disaster, Oliver feels the fault lines buckle beneath him. He thought he was done letting fear and shame dictate his life, yet even now, at peace with his true self, he can’t bear to witness the seismic shift between past and present. Instead, he falls back on avoidance, tearing strips off a frayed beer mat until the hair prickles at his nape.

He can feel it - the instant his fate is sealed - and taking a deep breath Oliver returns his eyes to the mirror, meeting Elio’s stunned features. Dark brows climb towards his hairline as the happiness on his face shifts into something else. Something measured. Unrecognisable. A blank slate, almost. For a moment, Oliver fears he’s going to ignore him completely, but then Elio straightens his spine, offers the half-smoked cigarette to his friend, and with a few whispered words strides forward with purpose.

His daring is a law unto himself, but the look he’s giving him now exudes superiority - omniscience, almost - as if he can read every thought that’s going on inside Oliver’s mind, and has already deemed them wanting. It shouldn’t be such a turn on, yet his heart skips a beat regardless. Then another. Every instinct in his body tells him to reach out, to hold Elio’s hand, tuck those wild curls behind his ear, but it’s no longer his place - if it ever really was to begin with - so Oliver takes a deliberate sip of his whiskey, scared and aroused simultaneously, before swivelling towards him.

“Oliver.” His name on Elio’s lips - three smooth syllables - and he feels reborn. “Long time no see.” Hesitating, he offers up a pack of Luckies. “Fumo?”

“I shouldn’t,” he says, dragging trembling fingers through his hair. “I told myself I’d quit. God knows it won't take much to -” 

“Tempt you?” 

Heat rises to Oliver’s cheeks. “Yes,” he admits, and Elio’s smile is a shallow, brittle thing. 

“Well, you know yourself,” he says, returning the cigarette carton to his pocket. “Don’t let me ruin your good intentions.”

His flippancy is like a red rag to a bull, and Oliver’s hackles rise as he sets his drink on the counter, irritated enough by Elio’s calm exterior to try and provoke a reaction. “Is your boyfriend not the jealous type?” 

All he receives is an eye roll. “Bruno’s not my boyfriend.”

“Could’ve fooled me. From what I saw earlier.”

“You saw nothing,” Elio replies, defensive. “We’re friends. Roommates.”

“Roommates?” Rising from his stool, Oliver takes a step towards him. “That kiss -” 

“Is none of your business. Not anymore.” 

It hits him like a punch to the gut. Oliver’s lips part, but no sound passes between them. He’s being irrational, he’ll accept, but old habits die hard, and through sheer force of will he quashes down his guilt, knowing better than to use it as a weapon. 

“Of course,” he says, chastened. “You’re right.” 

“I usually am.” 

“Elio…” This isn’t how he wants the conversation to go. “I know it’s too much to expect your forgiveness, but please don’t be angry with me. We were friends, once. Before anything else.”

“I’m not angry.” A beat. “Not anymore.” Tipping his chin, Elio folds his arms in front of him. One more barrier despite the brush-off. “I’m processing.“

“Processing?”

“Yes, processing. Originates from the Old French proces. Related to the Latin processus, and from the verb procedere in Middle English.”

“Wise ass.”

“Sempre.” Elio shrugs, watching him openly. “What are you doing here, Oliver?”

“My friends saw the flyers,” he says, bypassing the here, specifically, when Elio’s attention drops a few inches lower, and he realises he’s staring at his ring finger.

At the white line that’s all but vanished since he signed his way to freedom.

“You’re…”

Oliver clears his throat. “Divorced,” he manages, shuffling his feet. “Almost three months now.”

“Divorced?” Elio’s mask slams back into place, the distress in his voice palpable. “Why?”

And there are so many things he could say to that - the stress of his job, money, differing expectations - but this is Elio. His first love. His forever love. He, above anyone, deserves the truth. 

“I think you know why.”

“Do I?” That same phony indifference. “What the eyes see, and the ears hear, the mind believes.” 

“The truth is never that simple.”

“Not for us, it seems. Not in this world.” Elio gives his head a small but firm shake, blowing out a frustrated breath. “You know, tonight was supposed to lower my stress levels, not raise them,” he says, granting them a temporary reprieve. “But then, you always were hazardous to my blood pressure.”

“Trust me. The feeling’s mutual,” Oliver tells him wryly. “Might I recommend some deep breaths?”

“Deep breaths?” Elio rocks back on his heels. “If I had any peaches I’d be using my right hand.”

It catches him unawares, and Oliver can't help it. He snorts. Overcome by relief. Then he laughs - a weak sound, and damn near helpless - but a laugh, nonetheless. Cupping a palm to his mouth. Moving it to his eyes. Feeling the tears he’s been fighting since this whole debacle began.

“My God you’re incorrigible,” he mutters, the sharp stab of regret cutting him to the core as he glances over his shoulder, and the blond - Bruno - shoots him a wink. “When you said I saw nothing...”

The hesitant curve of Elio’s smile lights a fire in his chest. “There was a girl on the dance floor who wouldn’t take no for an answer. Lucky for me, Bruno’s never been shy about putting on a convincing performance.” 

Oliver winces. “Well, I bought it.”

“Mission accomplished, then.” Elio edges closer. “I could’ve said the same for you, once upon a time.” The air between them grows charged. “Do you ever miss it?” he asks. “Italy, I mean?”

“Every single day.” Oliver finds himself captivated by the smattering of stubble along Elio’s jawline. The touch of smudged kohl beneath his lashes that turns his gaze smouldering. “Do you?”

“In a way.”

“Just a way?” He’s not entirely certain they’re talking about the same thing, and Vanessa’s advice seems all the more pertinent. “Let me buy you a coffee?” Oliver asks, and Elio frowns.

“What? Now?”

“If you like.” 

“It’s gone midnight!” 

“Tomorrow, then. Whenever you’re available.” Suddenly desperate, he closes the gap between them. “I can’t excuse my actions, Elio - I know I can’t - but at the very least I owe you an explanation.”

“Oliver...” This time it’s Elio who reaches out, his usually steady hands uncertain as they entwine with his. “I was young, not stupid. What’s there to forgive? You left because you had to. You married because -”

“I was weak.”

“Cazatte!” The tension in Elio’s body snaps back like a coil. “My father would have carted me off to a correctional facility,” he murmurs, squeezing his fingers tightly. “I’ll never forget those words.” 

“I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be!” Elio sounds furious on his behalf. “Weak, you say? No. Control over others is the true weakness. Coercion. Conformity. All it does is breed hatred. And that’s not you. Not my Oliver.” 

“Am I still?” he asks, laying his cards out on the table. “Your Oliver?”

“I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?” 

Oliver swallows thickly. “I guess we will,” he says, dropping his forehead to Elio’s crown.

He’s braver at twenty-one than Oliver could have dared imagine, and for the first time in years the dull ache beneath his ribs is replaced by a different sort of craving. The way they fit together so easily, like no time has passed, fans the banked passions within him - the desire to press his lips against Elio’s neck, to nip his way along countless freckles until he can fist those unruly curls and guide his mouth back to where it belongs. 

Flush against his. 

Devouring.

But not yet.

This isn’t leading to sex. Not tonight. This is about reconciliation. Reassurance. Redemption.

“There’s a late-night diner on the corner…”

It’s a whisper against his cheek - so quiet he barely hears it - and Oliver leans down, pressing his face to Elio’s collarbone, breathing him in. He knows this won’t be easy - knows there will be dark clouds before the dawn - yet here they are, older and wiser, and three years might as well be yesterday as the parting crowds provide a temporary island in which to weather the storm.

[friendofhayley]

I’m back after my hiatus from fanfiction, to give y’all the best multifandom recs of the fics I read this month. Shoutout to all content creators who helped us live to see the close of this year. This fic includes 15 fics for Sterek, Larry, Winteriron, and Geraskier. The starred ones put me through heaven and hell *chef’s kiss*.

Sterek (Teen Wolf)

1. Six Letter Word for Romance by @troubleiwant | domestic kink - omg there’s only one bed - soft Derek - oblivious idiots in love - 6k

Stiles definitely starts off thinking it’s fucking hilarious that Derek-sourwolf-Hale does crosswords and cares about scuffs on his furniture.

But at a certain point, and he can’t pinpoint exactly when, “fully functional adult couple” somehow becomes a massive fetish of his. Derek in sweats and bare feet, nudging his glasses up his nose while he does the Sunday crossword? Unff. Derek filling out forms to get some renovations on his property approved? Oh God, yes. Derek putting away groceries and bitching that the corner store was out of the right type of Greek yogurt? Take me now, Stiles thinks, worrying at his lower lip with his teeth.

This can’t be normal.

2. *Dirty Little Secret* by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | Cora & Stiles bffs - no one can resist the Stilinski charm - celebrity Derek - human au - 91k

“Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.

Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.

“Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”

3. Can You Feel A Whole New Part of Your World? by @isthatbloodonhisshirt | i genuinely don’t look at authors names i just click i am sorry for spamming you but you write too good - neighbors Sterek - emotionally mature Stiles - the ideal fluffy world you’d want to live in - 53k

Can you hear me singing in the shower?” Stiles blurted out, because he had to know, now. If one of his neighbours had slid that note under his door, then it meant Parrish as another neighbour could hear him, too! He had to know if this was all a huge joke and one person had walked by and overheard him and decided to fuck with him.

Parrish gave him a weird look at the question, but answered anyway, making Stiles’ plans to leave the country speed up in his mind.

“Of course I can. You’re actually not bad. Though you have been singing a lot of Frozen lately, getting kind of tired of the soundtrack.”

4. Theory of Overprotective Canines by @petals42 | derek can turn into wolf - oblivious Stiles - future fic - mutual pining - 11k

Stiles is totally looking forward to living alone in his super cool apartment off-campus. He is. He is also very excited to bike to school every day, ready to set up an awesome game room, and definitely over his crush on Derek Hale. Completely over it.

Or at least he is until Derek decides he's moving in with him. And then turns out to be the perfect roommate. And then starts attending all his classes. As a wolf.

This is not going according to plan.

Larry (One Direction)

5. **The Changer and the Changed** by @homosociallyyours | literally the best fic of all time i want to live in there - girl direction - NYC ‘70s au - trans Zayn - the girls are so lovely - 59k

It’s the spring of 1977 and Harry Styles has just moved to New York City after graduating college. She knows she’s a lesbian. She just needs to figure out how to meet other lesbians.

Louis Tomlinson works at a popular women’s bookstore in the Lower East Side, Womon’s Direction, where she spends her days reading feminist literature, writing poetry, exchanging friendly barbs with her boss Niall, and dreaming of finding someone to love.

When Harry and Louis meet, their connection is instantaneous. Slowly but surely, Louis welcomes Harry into her community of women. Stonewall veteran and old school butch Niall; Liam, a land dyke who’s moved to the city for love; and Zayn, a lesbian musician who’s been ostracized by a vocal part of women’s community for being trans, welcome Harry with open arms, ready to help her find her place in New York City’s bustling lesbian scene.

6. others i’ve seen might never be mean (but they would never do) by @cherrylouvol6 | aaaaaaaa it’s lesbian When Harry Met Sally !!! - rom com - girl direction - coming out and first times - really great sex - 20k

Louis sighs.

“Do you remember what I said to you the first time we met?”

“That I’m naive and neurotic and would be hard pressed to ever find someone who could put up with me?” Harry snaps.

7. some things fade (some never do) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed | aaaaaa this story took me apart and back together again just like Louis and Harry - urban fantasy au - second chances - exes to friends to lovers - hurt/comfort - 25k

Matching tattoos. He’d never thought he’d be the type for tattoos to begin with, let alone matching or magical ones, but once Harry had put the idea in his mind it had never quite managed to disappear. And it had made sense. With their relationship a long distance one, this was simply another way of feeling close to one another. Of knowing where the other was, how they felt. It had made so much sense.

Back then.

8. we can take the long way home by @eleadore | i usually don’t rec my porn but there’s so much feels in this one - canon-divergent - kink discovery - friends to lovers - this was written in 2015 as a future fic but it felt like it was taking place now so good job - 27k

“Fertile,” Louis says, and then laughs because it sounds stupid to say out loud. He hasn’t ever really thought of himself in those terms. Baby-making terms. It’s just one of those things his body can do, like exercise, or go without tea. Doesn’t mean he will.

Winteriron (MCU)

9. **Dig No Graves** by @missaphelion | Tony finds out about his parents right after winter soldier au - Tony Stark has a heart - Bucky heals with bots and lots of sugar - slow burn - 142k

"I'm here to kill you, Terminator," Tony said slowly, "does that compute?"

The soldier looked up at him with wide blue eyes and no expression. "Okay."

Tony froze. "Okay," he echoed. "I tell you I came here to kill you and your response is 'okay'?"

10. A Rifling Matter by Penndragon27 | Winter Soldier has such a big crush on Tony’s weapons, he escapes Hydra au - identity porn - pining Bucky - fluff and angst - Winter Soldier is a fanboy and it’s cute - 37k

All the Asset knows is fighting, killing.

He also knows a good weapon when he sees one and Stark Industries... they make some great weapons.

11. *Winter is Coming (aka Fifty First Avengers Dates)* by @tisfan & @everyworldneedslove | enemies to friends to lovers to 50 first dates - pining Bucky - Tony gets amnesia - no Steve bashing but he’s a little bit of an ass - mental health issues - 109k

Bucky Barnes is still mostly The Asset, and he's pretty sure Hydra is going to come back for him soon, so in the meantime he's just going to keep an eye on the Avengers for them. But then Clint spotted him hiding in the shadows, so Tony came out and dragged Bucky back to the Tower, threw him in the shower, and fed him cheeseburgers.

Now The Asset is having anomalous feelings. In his pants.

Geraskier (The Witcher)

12. *no reason to run* by @yoursummerfrost | different meeting au - only one bed but camping - cursed Jaskier - soft Geralt!!!! - poly negotiations - 61k

"You'll change your mind one day," says the innkeep. "The road can't love you back."

What a strange way to flatten something so beautiful, Jaskier thinks. What a small way to love.

13. *He Fell into a Faerie Ring* by @geraltnoises | Jaskier gets bardnapped after the fight au - non-human Jaskier - soft Geralt - Jaskier encourages people to be kind and becomes a god - emotionally mature Geralt - 57k

Traders are a gossiping sort. If there was a scandal within the noble houses of Posada, you’d hear about it in Cretegor by the end of the week. So, the quick spread of a rumor about a little village in the Kestrel Mountain range was not at all surprising. What was surprising was the story that the traders wove. They said that Luibhtorrach, a sad, ghost of a farming town, had miraculously become a hub for trade, as if overnight. Their lands unbelievably fertile and brimming with crop. Even stranger, each and every one of Luibhtorrach’s people professed that their good fortune was the work of a mysterious beast they’d claimed as their personal deity. Most recent news foretold of their plans to throw a midsummer festival celebrating this newfound god. In preparation, silken blue banners were erected in every corner of the town, each bearing the symbol of their new patron: A delicate dandelion wrapping around a golden sun.

14. Barking Up the Wrong Tree by KHansen | 5+1 things - I’m worried about Geralt’s skills - non-human Jaskier - monsterfucker Geralt - crack treated seriously - 11k

Geralt is 100% certain that Jaskier is a vampire.

He's 100% proven wrong.

15. Bardic Idyll by Lisztful | fake relationship - Geralt is soft and oblivious - pining - fluff and angst - Jaskier you can’t show your emotions mainly through song! - 13k

Jaskier is certain he can win the Continent's annual bardic competition, but he needs to be accompanied by a dashing romantic companion in order to enter. Enter Geralt, who is definitely, for sure, only interested in the free food, and not at all in staring lovingly into Jaskier's eyes.

[politalysis]

# What has happened to JK Rowling?

Growing up in the early 2000s immediately made Harry Potter a huge part of your childhood. Even if you never read the books or watched the films, you can probably name the three main characters. Even if you weren’t interested in Harry Potter in the slightest, you probably know your Hogwarts house. It’s incredible what Harry Potter did for our generation all over the world. Children would stay up on their eleventh birthdays anxiously awaiting a Hogwarts acceptance letter, knowing full well that owl was never going to come. Our imagination kept the dream of going to Hogwarts and learning magic alive anyway. Even now at the age of 23, I can for the most part keep a conversation flowing with anyone who has read the books or even just watched the films. You could even go as far as to say it was our generation’s Lord of the Rings.

JK Rowling came from very humble beginnings. She suffered with depression in her childhood and early teens, and lost her mother to multiple sclerosis in 1990. These struggles inspired her a lot when writing Harry Potter. She channeled her grief and pain into her writing. In 1992, she married a man she had met whilst living in Portugal, but Rowling suffered domestic abuse at his hands and the couple separated a year later. She lost her job and moved to Edinburgh in Scotland, where she had to sign up for welfare benefits, which left her a poor and depressed single mother spending her time writing in coffee shops. When she finished writing Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, twelve publishers rejected the opportunity to publish the book. Once someone finally agreed to publish the book, it became the best selling children’s book of the year.

We all know how the story goes from there. Rowling wrote six more Harry Potter books, eight films were made, and Rowling went from a poor vulnerable single mother to a multi millionaire in the space of a few short years. Harry Potter is now a global brand estimated to be worth about $15 billion. The last four books have each consecutively set the record for the fastest selling book in history. Rowling is now the richest author in the world, with a net worth of $92 million. But as well as money, JK Rowling has over 14 million followers on Twitter. This gives her massive influence as well as money. Rowling seemed to initially use this influence for good, spreading mental health awareness, LGBT inclusivity, interacting with fans and creating a website for all us Harry Potter fans to determine our houses and let our wands choose us.

I remember being 8 years old when Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince was released, and I was attending a religious school where some parents complained and called to ban Harry Potter over the controversial decision JK Rowling made regarding Dumbledore’s sexuality. Rowling had made the claim that Dumbledore was gay. Looking back, the controversy was ridiculous and I can only imagine how embarrassed some of those parents must be. I also remember as I got older, re-reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows I noticed more that the emotion behind Dumbledore’s relationship with Grindelwald was one he held with a romantic love. So years later, when several members of the LGBT community attacked Rowling for only deciding Dumbledore’s sexuality after the books were written, I publicly defended her with my knowledge that that simply wasn’t true. I had this image of Rowling in my mind, that she had always been on the right side of this debate. She had always been inclusive and supportive of LGBT people as far as I could see, and I just didn’t understand the issue. Rowling had always expressed a centre-left political perspective, and although I didn’t agree with all her views, they seemed relatively uncontroversial.

When Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was released, I hated it. It was a literary disaster, completely disrespectful of the original book series, the characters were a shell of the characters we had grown up with, the plot was almost deliberately ridiculous and overly elaborate and I immediately dismissed it as not canon. I have never forgiven JK Rowling for publicly stating the book was canon. She almost destroyed a whole two decades of her own hard work and the franchise that she’d built that had been like a home for a whole generation. All because she wanted to grab a few extra quid for a terrible book she didn’t even write. To this day I can’t help but wonder if she has even read the book. If I had written the masterpiece that is Harry Potter, I would view the Cursed Child as an insult. Perhaps I’ll even write a review one day, just for fun. Rowling also annoyed me by going back on her story, regretting pairing Ron and Hermione together and not pairing Hermione with Harry. Ron and Hermione are my favourite couple from the story, and their relationship had so much meaning. I couldn’t believe that the author who wrote such a clever and consistent relationship between two beloved characters could ever regret it. At this point in my life, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps Rowling was losing her mind. It was almost like she was trying to destroy her legacy.

As more years passed, the Fantastic Beasts films were released. The first film looked promising, but the second film was yet another disaster. Again, it was inconsistent with the franchise as we knew it, for some reason Hogwarts was full of people wearing 3 piece suits instead of the robes they wore in the Harry Potter series and Minerva McGonigall appeared as a teacher despite the fact that canonically there is no way she could have been old enough. The film was a disaster with both fans and critics hating it. Amongst this mess came controversy in December 2019. Rowling lost all respect she had once held amongst the transgender community when she made a public statement supporting Maya Forstater, a British woman who lost her employment tribunal case against her employer who fired her over transphobic comments. Six months later on June 6 2020, Rowling criticised the term “people who menstruate” and stated: "If sex isn’t real, the lived reality of women globally is erased. I know and love trans people, but erasing the concept of sex removes the ability of many to meaningfully discuss their lives." Rowling’s views on these issues were heavily criticised by GLAAD and even by the actors from the Harry Potter movies including lead actors Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson.

Rowling published a 3,600 word essay in response to the mass criticism of her views four days later. The essay did her no favours, as she wrote: “When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside.” She seemed to be suggesting that trans women are often just men disguised as women in order to trick or even harm other women. This obviously angered the transgender community even more, and women’s refuge shelters that allow trans women were reporting no rise in violence as a result, children’s charities that support gender non conforming children were criticising Rowling, she was being made to give back awards and ultimately Rowling was labelled a Trans exclusionary radical feminist, a term often abbreviated to TERF.

JK Rowling is the perfect example of how money and influence can make someone forget their roots so easily. For someone who survived poverty, domestic abuse and sexual assault, she is so lacking in self awareness and how the things she has said and done can be harmful to transgender people. It is widely reported that transgender women are at more risk of harm in female restrooms than cisgender women. With acceptance becoming the norm, transgender people are feeling more safe to come out now than ever before, and so the rise in numbers of the community is huge, especially amongst our generation who grew up with Harry Potter. For a young transgender teenager to grow up wondering how Hogwarts would accommodate them, only to hear the author who gave us Hogwarts in the first place disapprove of equal rights for transgender people, must be very disheartening. However, JK Rowling has proven that she has no idea how powerful the legacy her books created really is. She was tasked with following up the Harry Potter series, and what she gave us was inconsistent and very poorly written screenplays. I have read better sequels on tumblr. Lots of them. Hogwarts doesn’t belong to JK Rowling, it belongs to the fandom. And I’ll be willing to bet my last penny that if Professor McGonigall witnessed any bullying of transgender students in her classroom (or indeed the girls bathroom!) she’d absolutely defend the victim without a moment’s hesitation. Hermione would decorate the Gryffindor common room with little blue, pink and white flags in support of a transgender first year who’d just been sorted into Gryffindor. Luna Lovegood would sit and befriend any trans student who looked lonely, and Ginny would dish out a bat bogey hex to anyone who dared pick on them. No matter what JK Rowling thinks, Hogwarts is not hers to ruin. It is ours. Regardless of what makes us different, Hogwarts is our home.

[jackcinephile]

LO Fans: "I love Lore Olympus because it deals with serious themes, like sexual assault, abuse, gaslighting, trauma, and mental health issues!"

Me, who spent my life discovering and obsessing over masterpieces like this:

"You're gonna have to try a lot harder than that to impress me."

Yeah, I never understood that kind of praise. For one thing, people act like LO is groundbreaking for that reason, despite there being countless movies, books, tv shows, comics, and video games that also deal with the same themes. That isn't to say there can't be more stories like this, however. I, for one, am begging for another video game that comes close to the emotional resonance of Silent Hill 2, or for a faithful adaptation of Dracula and/or Phantom of the Opera, or for a horror movie as unsettling as The Howling! But to say any new story that deals with these themes is unique for doing so, is just simply not true. Lore Olympus is no more unique than any of these stories. Also, I don't understand the praise that Lore Olympus is great just by virtue of having these themes in the first place. Just because a story has serious themes, doesn't automatically make it good. Far too often does LO use its themes as a crutch for a plot that is standard issue among romances, as opposed to stories like The Howling, which has a very intriguing, outlandish plot that serves as a catalyst to explore themes of very real and relatable horror. Lore Olympus, without its intense themes, is just another story about the CEO falling in love with his intern. And don't get me wrong, I LOVE those kinds of stories, but Lore Olympus just doesn't really do it for me. And the poorly executed themes just hamper it even further for me.

If it wasn't already apparent, has anyone noticed a pattern between these titles? All but one are horror stories. In my opinion, that is one of the key differences between them and LO: Horror! The themes within, are ones that illicit terror, and the stories reflect that (even Phantom of the Opera--don't listen to anyone who says it's a romance). Starting with Dracula, one of the scenes that horrified me the most in the book was the one where Count Dracula sneaks into Mina's bedroom. The book describes him slitting open his own vein and forcing her to drink his blood. Mina then expresses feelings of violation, much akin to what rape survivors feel. It doesn't pull any punches in its shocking, horrific portrayal, but it never comes off as exploitative. That's because the best horror stories rely on the audience's empathy. In this case, nobody wants to feel violated, so we feel as horrified as the characters do when we read about this grotesque event. And because it is about illiciting fear through empathy, Dracula succeeds where Lore Olympus fails. Lore Olympus, before all else, is a romance. And rape should not be in a romantic story. Especially not when the narrative of LO uses this trauma to validate the relationship between the two leads. I'm not a fan of stories that use trauma to validate a relationship between romantic interests, and I think that partly stems from reading the Phantom of the Opera.

If you ask me, Phantom of the Opera is one if the best books to discuss abuse and gaslighting ever written! Despite misconceptions generated by the popularity of the musical, PotO is very much a horror story with hardly any romance at all. And it's one of the best examples about why using trauma to validate a romance is a very bad idea! You see, all the conflict of the story begins with The Phantom and his trauma. He was born with multiple physical deformities that cause him to look like a living corpse. Because of this, he is despised and rejected by the world in order to escape the hatred of the world, he commissions the construction of the Paris Opera House, complete with intricate catacombs where he can live out the rest of his miserable days. Then one day, a woman named Christine comes to work at the Opera as a chorus girl. She is sad and alone due to her being orphaned, without a friend in the world. She too is emotionally damaged and the Phantom thinks this means she'll understand him. The trouble begins instantly when he claims to be a character from a folktale that Christine's father used to tell her. This is when the manipulation and gaslighting begins. Part of what makes this so effective is how we see it from an outside perspective. The protagonist, Raoul, is in love with Christine and we get to see his confusion and growing concern when he starts realizing Christine is showing signs of an abusive relationship. What makes the relationship even worse is the fact that Christine actually does understand The Phantom. So she doesn't run away not only out of fear, but also compassion. She knows what it's like to feel isolated and dead to the world and The Phantom uses that against her. The more I describe this, the more parallels I begin to see to Hades' and Minthe's relationship. Yes, Minthe abused Hades in much of the same way as The Phantom abused Christine. Notice how Minthe keeps convincing Hades that they're the only people who understand each other, even going so far as to say, "We're the same." The funny thing is, that's exactly what the narrative uses to validate Hades' and Persephone's relationship! It tries to establish that Hades and Persephone relate to each other and they say, several times, "We're the same," to each other. But this is exactly how Hades got stuck in a toxic relationship with Minthe, so why is it suddenly okay now? Relationships that use shared trauma to validate themselves are almost always doomed to become toxic, in one way or another.

So what about the healthy relationship in Phantom of the Opera? Well, it's kinda interesting actually. You see, Christine eventually comes to realize that she needs help, so she turns to the protagonist, Raoul, to get her away from the Phantom. Raoul has an interesting character arc because he starts the novel being pretty immature and kinda selfish. He doesn't really take Christine's feelings into consideration. It's more like a boy chasing his childhood crush (actually that's exactly what happens). However, over the course of the story, as he becomes increasingly concerned with her well-being, he learns to care more about her feelings and her needs. This culminates in the climax, when he's willing to crawl through hell itself for her sake. I bring all this up because I wanted to compare Raoul with Hades as well. Hades is a very consistent character. He doesn't need an arc like Raoul because, from the very beginning, he's willing to put all of Persephone's needs before his, to a fault! That is his entire purpose within the narrative of LO. He exists to serve Persephone. Raoul didn't exist to serve Christine. He had his own journey of growing and maturing. And Christine didn't exist to serve Raoul either. It bothers me that a novel from 1910 has a more well-rounded relationship than a modern comic! Actually, now that I think about it, isn't Persephone's entire character arc supposed to be her learning that she shouldn't exist to serve others? Well, that totally contradicts Hades' role in the story, doesn't it? He exists to serve her! I guess, in the eyes of LO, it's only okay if men serve women, but not for women to serve men. Newsflash: neither is okay.

Now Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1931) remains, to this day, one of the most terrifying movies I've ever seen! That's all thanks to its brutal depictions of domestic abuse. So Dr. Henry Jekyll believes the solution to enlightening the human race is to separate the good and evil in our souls. He solves this problem by creating a drug to do just that, which transforms him into Edward Hyde, but he becomes addicted and starts terrorizing a woman who was once a former patient of his. I think what makes this so effective, when compared to LO, is one simple factor: Fear. I am terrified of Edward Hyde, but whenever Apollo shows up, I'm just annoyed. That's because Hyde isn't being used to sell an agenda, while Apoll is. Apollo is all about making a statement about toxic masculinity, which always bothered me from the very beginning! Being an abusive cunt who rapes women has nothing to do with masculinity! It doesn't matter if you're masculine or feminine, anyone can be a cunting abusive rapist. If you are a rapist, it's because you're a monster who lacks empathy, not because of masculinity. And if you think masculinity has something to do with a lack of empathy, fuck off! Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde is not about toxic masculinity. It's about how drug addiction can often hurt other people around us just as much, if not moreso, than ourselves. It also doesn't use rape to validate a relationship between characters. I'm sorry, but that is just the laziest storytelling technique. When the antagonist is a rapist OF COURSE the male love interest is going to look better by comparison! But when you take Apollo out of the equation, Hades stops looking like a desirable love interest real fucking quick.

So yeah, I think Hades makes for a bad love interest. That's mostly because he's so much like Shinji Ikari from Neon Genesis Evangelion. Yeah, the one title from the list above that's not a horror, but is no less relevant. The thing is, both Hades and Shinji have a lot in common, such as hating themselves, having a bad relationship with their father, and not caring at all about their own wants and needs. Oh, also Asuka's a better written character than Minthe, but that's a whole other topic. What makes Evangelion work, in my opinion, is that Shinji's whole journey is about learning to love himself, while Hades is portrayed as being perfect the way he is. Hades in LO is like a flawless beacon of virtue, solely because he worships the ground Persephone walks on. But the guy just doesn't care about himself at all! Like I said earlier, Hades guilty of the same self-destructive behaviors as Persephone but he's praised for it, while Persephone is encouraged to look after herself more often. Compare this to Shinji, whose life only gets worse the more he neglects himself. The only time Hades does something beneficial for himself is when he breaks up with Minthe, but immediately after that, he starts devoting every ounce of energy to Persephone! All that matters is her! He doesn't give a single fuck about himself. Sorry, but that's not good qualities in a male love interest. In all fairness, this is a problem with the romance genre as a whole. Most romances give priority to the protagonist (in this case Persephone) while neglecting the love interest (Hades). It's why I have a serious problem with the entire genre.

Now what could Silent Hill 2 have that is in any way relevant to Lore Olympus? Two words: Nightmare Fuel. Personifying trauma as literal demons is one of the smartest ideas anyone's ever had, because speaking from personal experience, that's how it feels. I just don't feel like the trauma experienced by the characters in LO is a waking nightmare like it is in real life. For one, the characters' trauma only pops up when it's convenient for the plot. Like whenever Persephone starts experiencing ptsd, it happens when she's with Hades so we can get a scene with Hades cuddling her. After that, it shows up in a scene to make her look badass by confronting Apollo. No, just no. The Howling did it better too, by making the protagonist's trauma such an inconvenience in her life! I never felt that way in LO. When you uss traumatic encounters to make your character look like a badass, kindly fuck off.

[eyesaremosaics]

TRIGGER WARNING:

The past few days, I have been shocked, saddened and disgusted with an artist who I have admired since I was a child. I remember seeing the sweet dreams video when it came on MTV in 1995 when I was 6 years old. I remember being frightened, but mesmerized by him. I pretended to hate him whenever he would come on TV, and my dad would tease me: “oh, there you go it’s your boyfriend Megan.” I would shriek in disgust and say “no!” Secretly I would watch his music videos when no one else was home, there was a hypnotic quality to his voice...something that drew me in. I know many females my age can relate. I bought his albums in secret, and until I was 15 years old I had this very real fear that if my family found out I listened to Marilyn Manson—they would stop loving me. Which seems silly and absurd, I often laugh about that.

However, once high school hit, he became more gimmick and less rock and roll. More self aggrandizing and less of a nihilistic commentator on society. He was once a major influence to me, my style of art, expression and creativity. The women he dated became icon’s to me, something to be emulated. I became a vintage girl because of my interest in Dita Von Teese at age 14. I wore high heels to school, seamed stockings with a garter belt, dressed like a 1950s housewife. I was voted best dressed in my high school senior year (2006).

I never had a crush on him or anything, it wasn’t really like that, it was more like he was a person I looked up to. After his interview in bowling for Columbine, all his interviews, his book, tv appearances etc. he came across as a highly intelligent and creative person who challenged social norms and societal constructs. I appreciated his androgyny, and admired his fearlessness. I listened to his music a great deal in high school, and it got me through some very dark and angsty times.

As the years went on, it became apparent he was losing his edge. I loved Rose McGowan, she was one of the women I modeled myself after as a young person (next to Winona Ryder of course), and she always spoke highly of him, saying he was a good boyfriend, but the drugs were something she couldn’t hang with. When he was with Dita, I fell in love with her too, and found her to be just as cool and interesting.

When he cheated on Dita with Evan Rachel Wood I was devastated. I felt like my idol fell. The stand-up man I thought he was—wasn’t real, and I am ashamed to say I blamed Evan, vilifying her as some “scarlet woman” who destroyed what was (to me) the perfect marriage. Little did I know that this poor girl was suffering. In ways many of us can relate to, and many we can’t begin to understand.

A few girls that I follow on IG have come forward with graphic accounts of the abuse to which they were subjected by Brian Warner (aka Marilyn Manson), and it made me sick to my stomach. I mean... I wrote him off as a has been in 2007, but I still thought he was an ok person, I still respected him for the art he made that inspired me as a kid. Now I feel like a huge chunk of my childhood was a lie. All the things I thought he stood for were merely conjecture.

All this background was necessary to get to what I really wanted to say: this whole ordeal was very triggering for me as a survivor of narcissistic/sociopathic, sexual, emotional and physical abuse. I stand with these girls, because though I can only begin to imagine some of the things they have described in their testimony... other things I know all too well. In fact many of the situations these poor girls were violently subjected to, have happened to me as well. It actually broke me down in tears to read.

My heart goes out to the survivors, you are strong and beautiful. It takes YEARS to survive this type of abuse. I know because I am living proof. I have been in more than one relationship like this, which led me to have zero self esteem, resort to substance abuse, risky self-destructive behavior, attempted suicide etc. I have been in extensive therapy for these traumas for over five years now, and only in the last two, was I able to get a full sense of self back.

There is so much to say on this issue. I am proud of the girls who came forward, it takes an insane amount of bravery to call out your abuser publicly... I still haven’t had the courage to call out mine. However it gives me strength to know there is a movement of women empowering each other to break their silence and speak their truth.

I am disillusioned and sad about this person I used to think highly of, but it’s the same feeling you go through when leaving a narcissistic/sociopathic relationship. In my own situation... I left feeling like Marion Cotillard’s character in “inception”. The top forever spinning...Not knowing when I would wake up into the real world....Not knowing which was the real world, and which was a dream. Wanting to die, so you can finally wake up.

There are stages of grief that you go through, accepting that this person never cared about you, and saw you only as narcissistic supply, or as “food” for their ego. They see matters only as a means for power and control. They don’t feel things the way you or I do. It is in this that you should pull power from. You are not the one who is weak, it is they who are weak. They who lack the emotional depth or compassion to function as a normal human being. They will never know love, or real friendship—and you should feel sorry for them. What a terribly lonely and meaningless existence that must be. To be a parasite.

You ( the survivor) still have a chance for life, YOU will love again. It may feel like you will never reach the other side of it, through the panic attacks, the sleepless nights, the terrorizing anxiety, the bouts of crying, the humiliation, the silence, the nightmares—but you will. I learned a long time to let things build and not destroy me. To any of you reading this who may be able to relate: you can do it too.

I never thought I would survive my demons, I have a history of abuse that goes back to my childhood, which is why I am so protective of children now. It’s almost like I have made it my personal mission to assure that no child will ever be hurt the way I was, not on my watch.

Keeping your inner child alive is so crucial to survive the darkness of this world. We have to be the architect of our own reality, and rebuild a new world, a safe one to live in. One where a man can treat us with love and kindness. That doesn’t mean we should forget. We forgive the abusers not because they deserve forgiveness, but because we deserve peace.

I stand with all women out there living with this kind of abuse. Living with domestic violence. You are not alone. I hear you, I see you. There is a deeper systemic problem going on here enabling this kind of violence, and it Must. Be. Stopped.

#breakthesilence

[ingek73]

Buckingham Palace banned ethnic minorities from office roles, papers reveal

Exclusive: Documents also shed light on Queen’s ongoing exemption from race and sex discrimination laws

by David Pegg and Rob Evans

Published: 15:00 Wednesday, 02 June 2021

The Queen’s courtiers banned “coloured immigrants or foreigners” from serving in clerical roles in the royal household until at least the late 1960s, according to newly discovered documents that will reignite the debate over the British royal family and race.

The documents also shed light on how Buckingham Palace negotiated controversial clauses – that remain in place to this day – exempting the Queen and her household from laws that prevent race and sex discrimination.

The papers were discovered at the National Archives as part of the Guardian’s ongoing investigation into the royal family’s use of an arcane parliamentary procedure, known as Queen’s consent, to secretly influence the content of British laws.

They reveal how in 1968, the Queen’s chief financial manager informed civil servants that “it was not, in fact, the practice to appoint coloured immigrants or foreigners” to clerical roles in the royal household, although they were permitted to work as domestic servants.

It is unclear when the practice ended. Buckingham Palace refused to answer questions about the ban and when it was revoked. It said its records showed people from ethnic minority backgrounds being employed in the 1990s. It added that before that decade, it did not keep records on the racial backgrounds of employees.

Exemptions from the law

In the 1960s government ministers sought to introduce laws that would make it illegal to refuse to employ an individual on the grounds of their race or ethnicity.

The Queen has remained personally exempted from those equality laws for more than four decades. The exemption has made it impossible for women or people from ethnic minorities working for her household to complain to the courts if they believe they have been discriminated against.

In a statement, Buckingham Palace did not dispute that the Queen had been exempted from the laws, adding that it had a separate process for hearing complaints related to discrimination. The palace did not respond when asked what this process consists of.

The exemption from the law was brought into force in the 1970s, when politicians implemented a series of racial and sexual equality laws to eradicate discrimination.

More than 50,000 people call for inquiry into use of Queen's consent

The official documents reveal how government officials in the 1970s coordinated with Elizabeth Windsor’s advisers on the wording of the laws.

The documents are likely to refocus attention on the royal family’s historical and current relationship with race.

Much of the family’s history is inextricably linked with the British empire, which subjugated people around the world. Some members of the royal family have also been criticised for their racist comments.

In March the Duchess of Sussex, the family’s first mixed-race member, said she had had suicidal thoughts during her time in the royal family, and alleged that a member of the family had expressed concern about her child’s skin colour.

The Duke and Duchess of Sussex in a horse-drawn carriage after attending the Queen’s Birthday Parade in 2018.

The Duke and Duchess of Sussex after attending the Queen’s birthday parade in 2018. Photograph: Niklas Halle’n/AFP/Getty Images

The allegation compelled her brother-in-law, Prince William, to declare that the royal family was “very much not” racist.

Queen’s consent

Some of the documents uncovered by the Guardian relate to the use of Queen’s consent, an obscure parliamentary mechanism through which the monarch grants parliament permission to debate laws that affect her and her private interests.

Buckingham Palace says the process is a mere formality, despite compelling evidence that the Queen has repeatedly used the power to secretly lobby ministers to amend legislation she does not like.

The newly discovered documents reveal how the Queen’s consent procedure was used to secretly influence the formation of the draft race relations legislation.

In 1968, the then home secretary, James Callaghan, and civil servants at the Home Office appear to have believed that they should not request Queen’s consent for parliament to debate the race relations bill until her advisers were satisfied it could not be enforced against her in the courts.

At the time, Callaghan wanted to expand the UK’s racial discrimination laws, which only prohibited discrimination in public places, so that they also prevented racism in employment or services such as housing.

James Callaghan pictured with the Queen in 1977, welcoming the then French president, Valery Giscard d’Estaing, to Windsor Castle.

James Callaghan pictured with the Queen in 1977, welcoming the then French president, Valery Giscard d’Estaing, to Windsor Castle. Photograph: PA

A key proposal of the bill was the Race Relations Board, which would act as an ombudsman for discrimination complaints and could bring court proceedings against individuals or companies that maintained racist practices.

‘Not the practice to appoint coloured immigrants’

In February 1968, a Home Office civil servant, TG Weiler, summarised the progress of discussions with Lord Tryon, the keeper of the privy purse, who was responsible for managing the Queen’s private finances, and other courtiers.

Tryon, he wrote, had informed them Buckingham Palace was prepared to comply with the proposed law, but only if it enjoyed similar exemptions to those provided to the diplomatic service, which could reject job applicants who had been resident in the UK for less than five years.

According to Weiler, Tryon considered staff in the Queen’s household to fall into one of three types of roles: “(a) senior posts, which were not filled by advertising or by any overt system of appointment and which would presumably be accepted as outside the scope of the bill; (b) clerical and other office posts, to which it was not, in fact, the practice to appoint coloured immigrants or foreigners; and (c) ordinary domestic posts for which coloured applicants were freely considered, but which would in any event be covered by the proposed general exemption for domestic employment.”

“They were particularly concerned,” Weiler wrote, “that if the proposed legislation applied to the Queen’s household it would for the first time make it legally possible to criticise the household. Many people do so already, but this has to be accepted and is on a different footing from a statutory provision.”

By March, Buckingham Palace was satisfied with the proposed law. A Home Office official noted that the courtiers “agreed that the way was now open for the secretary of state to seek the Queen’s consent to place her interest at the disposal of parliament for the purpose of the bill.”

The phrasing of the documents is highly significant, because it suggests that Callaghan and the Home Office officials believed it might not be possible to obtain the Queen’s consent for parliament to debate the racial equality law unless the monarch was assured of her exemption.

As a result of this exemption, the Race Relations Board that was given the task of investigating racial discrimination would send any complaints from the Queen’s staff to the home secretary rather than the courts.

In the 1970s, the government brought in three laws to counter racial and sexual discrimination in the workplace. Complainants in general were empowered to take their cases directly to the courts.

But staff in the royal household were specifically prevented from doing so, although the wording of the ban was sufficiently vague that the public might not have realised the monarch’s staff had been exempted.

A civil servant noted that the exemption in the 1975 Sex Discrimination Act had been “acceptable to the palace, largely because it did not explicitly single out persons employed by Her Majesty in her personal capacity for special exception” while still removing them from its scope.

The exemption was extended to the present day when in 2010 the Equality Act replaced the 1976 Race Relations Act, the 1975 Sex Discrimination Act and the 1970 Equal Pay Act. For many years, critics have regularly pointed out that the royal household employed few black, Asian or minority-ethnic people.

In 1990 the journalist Andrew Morton reported in the Sunday Times that “a black face has never graced the executive echelons of royal service – the household and officials” and “even among clerical and domestic staff, there is only a handful of recruits from ethnic minorities”.

The following year, the royal researcher Philip Hall published a book, Royal Fortune, in which he cited a source close to the Queen confirming that there were no non-white courtiers in the palace’s most senior ranks.

In 1997 the Palace admitted to the Independent that it was not carrying out an officially recommended policy of monitoring staff numbers to ensure equal opportunities.

A Buckingham Palace spokesperson said: “The royal household and the sovereign comply with the provisions of the Equality Act, in principle and in practice. This is reflected in the diversity, inclusion and dignity at work policies, procedures and practices within the royal household.

“Any complaints that might be raised under the act follow a formal process that provides a means of hearing and remedying any complaint.” The palace did not respond when asked if the monarch was subject to this act in law.