#i can't argue with the racing being shit though. but at least there's hope on that front

[batsplat]

I fear next year is gonna be super boring, at least last year we had 4 competent riders on the ducati so there was a little more variety, maybe one week marc was gonna win, maybe jorge, maybe enea. But for next year we’re just gonna have marc and pecco and I have zero hopes for the aprilias or ktm to develop a championship winner bike so. And the racing quality (mostly because of those giant bikes and their obsession with aero) has also gone downhill. Yes maybe pecco and marc will fight a little bit during the year but I fear its gonna be a pretty boring season anyway.

y'know, this is only tangentially related, but I've realised the calendar isn't well designed for a marc/pecco title fight. obviously that's not the fault of the calendar but it's still kind of annoying. like,, we start with this:

that's terrible. these are all tracks that lean marc, rather heavily so in the case of cota. I'd assumed argentina wasn't happening but word on the street is it might actually return to us, which I'd be happy about but does mean it gives marc a bit of a chance to build up an early buffer. you kinda feel like two of these weekends could easily be 37's. for the health of the championship, his bike needs to fall apart somewhere here

I also really really don't like this:

that's four tracks in a row that heavily favour one or the other. they're basically specialist tracks. while marc might challenge for victory at mugello or assen, if he wins at any of those I think it's fairly safe to say we're unlikely to be witnessing a great championship fight. so we go into four weekends in a row where we broadly think we already know the winner - and in two of those, one rider very much needs to be the winner for things to be competitive. that's where momentum goes to die. you want your specialist tracks sprinkled in throughout the season as a bit of a reset point, for spice. you don't want them all crammed in one stretch of the season as if you're trying to get rid of them

think my general hope is we should try to keep it looking competitive in that post-summer break pre-flyaway stretch, and then give up for the flyaways. also, with all my love to and profound respect for the nation of hungary, but probably for the best if that track isn't ready quite yet

anyway. on the season. idk, I'm looking forward to it! I do want to see the title fight play out between these two because on paper it is just such a juicy prospect. even if I'm keeping my expectations low, both in terms of how competitive it'll be and how much narrative juice it'll have. I hope being told fifty million times how well bagnaia and marquez get on will age poorly, for instance. the nightmare version of this season is where they split like.... twenty of the twenty two (?) races between the pair of them, almost always finish 2-5 seconds ahead of each other, one of them's both faster and less likely to fall off and there's no real championship narrative from early on. tbh at that point it's just like... idk man, you don't have to be hype about every season, I'll probably still tune into the main races (I am NOT tuning into sprints without a competitive title fight) and go about my business. sometimes the sport goes through a bit of a dull period - hopefully michelin will have developed a new front tyre for next year and that + the regs change for 2027 + competitive reordering will eventually make the sport more fun again

but also. it could be more fun than that! ducati is inevitably going to be more vulnerable now - they have a depleted rider pool and fewer bikes. also like,,, they can't be that dominant FOREVER. say what you will about ducati, but dall'igna did say before last season that the gp24 was a substantial step forwards from the gp23. they did warn us! and they're not saying that about the gp25, which has to give you a little bit of hope. the pool of talent is also theoretically better spread now - aprilia has a proper star rider in the form of martin who has shown he can be both fast and consistent, ktm has acosta in his second season, yamaha might finally be able to take advantage of quartararo's talents again. there's serious question marks over all of those, most obviously around ktm's future of course. but like... they can't ALL suck forever. I think the field will be more competitive, I think more non-ducati riders will win races, I think we can hustle up a cute little aprilia silverstone win or a brno ktm win or even a yamaha indonesia win. it's tougher for two guys to completely lock out the top of the competition than it is for four - more stuff can go wrong for two guys. and hey, if all else fails, there were three races in 2024 where both marc and pecco crashed. idk I think with motorsports you kinda need to find stuff to care about that isn't just the fight for the win and/or the championship narrative... admittedly that would be easier to do if motogp did a better job at not just showing the first few bikes. but it's not THAT dire

[toomanyfandoms-notenoughfics]

Celestial Beings

Chapter Nine: Sides

Characters: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Female Reader, Molly Weasley, Moldy Voldy (Voldemort)

Summary: (Y/n) wakes up much later than she planned only to head downstairs and overhear Remus and Sirius. She can't understand emotions well.

Word Count: 2,835

Warnings: Swearing, Threats, Mentions of Blood, Cutting (Accidental not Self-Harm), Arguing, Implications of drinking

Reminders: @nicolegrace2004 (not sure if this is the right blog but I'm hoping so)

(Y/n) awoke with a start as a knock sounded from the door. She looked around the room wildly, as if expecting someone or something else to be there. Another knock at the door finally shook her from her thoughts, causing her to throw the blankets off herself as she hurried to the door. She swung it open quickly, with a little too much force, making it hit the wall loudly.

“Shit! Sorry.” She muttered quickly, her thoughts still racing. “Didn’t mean to sleep, I-”

“Are you alright dear?” Molly asks worriedly, her eyebrows stitched together. “Sirius and Remus told me what happened, I won’t pry. It’s been a few hours since dinner, and no one’s heard a peep from you. Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh.” (Y/n) takes a moment to breathe, unsure of how to respond. “I’m… I don’t know really, I think I’m alright though.” She assures Molly, giving her a small smile. “Sorry about missing dinner, I really didn’t think I was going to fall asleep.”

“It’s alright, I saved you a plate downstairs. I didn’t do too much tonight anyways, just a small casserole.” Molly waves it off. “They’re still waiting in the parlor for you, if you feel up for it. Don’t feel pressured to do anything that will… agitate yourself.” she says carefully.

“Right, yeah…” (Y/n) runs a hand through her hair, trying to quickly brush it back into place. “Which way to the parlor again?”

“All the way down the stairs, take a left, third door to your right nearest the exit.” Molly reminds her with a smile. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” (Y/n) says as she fixes her clothes. “Once again, so sorry about dinner. I’ll be sure to get there tomorrow.”

“Alright, well I’ve got to-” Molly gets cut off as a crash is heard down the hall. “Those silly kids, I swear if Tonks has them doing some stupid spell again… I’ll check in with you tomorrow, (y/n).” She quickly hurries off toward the sound of the crash as another occurs.

(Y/n) rushes down the stairs, adrenaline starting to fade as the nightmares fade fully into nothingness. As she gets to the bottom of the stairs she hears voices from the hall, talking rather loudly. Stopping just shy of the corner she listens in.

“We could always wait a little longer.” Sirius groans. “She didn’t look too good earlier, probably just lost track of time.”

“Or she just doesn’t want to see us…” Remus sighs. “We’ve been waiting hours Pads. I’d rather just head to bed.”

“You.” Sirius says bluntly. “You mean she doesn’t want to see, you.” (Y/n) hears him take a drink of something. “Which, even if that were the case, she’d still would like to know we waited I’m sure. Besides, what if she does want to come down here and we’re gone? It’d be like lying to her.”

“She’s the one who lied.” Remus retorts quickly, also pausing to take a drink. “She lied about the mirror, didn’t tell us about being able to read minds, and who knows what else she’s been lying about. You can’t just blindly trust people, Pads.” (Y/n) feels her heart drop.

“I’m not.” Sirius sighs. “But she deserves at least part of our trust by now, doesn’t she? She’s earned it.”

“By doing what? Sulking around?” Remus lets out a dry laugh. “We let her roam around, let her have her own room, she hasn’t helped us once.”

“She doesn’t need to.” Sirius takes another drink. “That’s not the goal remember?”

(Y/n) feels her cheeks getting warm with anger and embarrassment. Her fists balled up as she takes a step back, not wanting to know anything else. She turns to head to the kitchen as whispers swirl around her.

“You forgot didn’t you?” a familiar voice says from nowhere. “To them you’re nothing more than a means to an end. A pawn in their game.”

“Because you’ve always thought of me as anything other than a weapon, shut up.” (Y/n) mutters in response, shutting the kitchen door behind herself. “No need to pretend to care.”

“Pretend? You’re my blood, (y/n). Of course I care.” Voldemort tuts. “I can both care about you and discipline you. The two are not mutually exclusive. Besides, without me you’d have been murdered by the ministry when you were born. You’re special, and that scares them.”

“Special is just a nice word for abomination.” She retorts, finding the plate Molly had made for her, taking the foil off the top. “Your version of discipline is torture. Go away.”

“I see they’ve confused you.” his tone becomes more strained. “Don’t worry, we can fix that when you return.”

“No.” (Y/n) says, quicker than she could think. She freezes mid bite. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No? No?!” Voldemort’s voice feels like daggers in her head now. “How dare you tell me no. After everything I’ve done for you? Fed you, kept you clothed, kept you alive! You’ll do as you’re told, as you’ve been taught, or I will make the ‘torture’ you’ve endured seem like child’s play. Next time you want to say no, just remember where I currently reside and whom I live with.”

(Y/n) feels the connection loosen, his voice fading into nothingness, leaving her to think on his threat. She looks down at the food and tosses it into the trash, no longer having an appetite. She shakily begins to wash the plate, the water burning her hands as she turns it to maximum heat.

“(Y/n)?” Sirius’s voice startles her, the plate slipping from her hand as she turns around. It shatters as it hit the floor near her feet.

“For fuck’s sake!” She shouts, her anxiety being quickly replaced by frustration. She quickly kneels down and starts gathering the broken pieces. “Sorry, I’ll clean it up.”

“Here let me help.” Sirius says softly, taking a step forward. She flinches as he crouches down.

“I said I’ll clean it up.” She snips. “It’s my mess.”

“It happens, it’s not an issue.” Sirius speaks quietly. He begins picking up some of the glass, conjuring a trashcan. “Here.”

“I don’t need your pity, I can do it myself.” (Y/n) grabs a piece of glass too tightly, slicing into her palm be accident. She drops it quickly, pulling her hand to her chest. “Damn it!”

“Let me see.” Sirius holds out his hand, waiting. “I’ll just worry more if you don’t let me see it, so if you want me out of your hair sooner, let me look.”

“Fine.” She reluctantly gives him her hand. After a few seconds she hears the sound of ripping fabric, before she feels cloth being wrapped around her hand. She looks at him confused. “Why not use magic?”

“Well, you can’t use yours so I’ve been trying to cut back using it myself.” He shrugs. “What’re you doing in here?”

“Molly left me a plate, I was hungry.” She lied easily. “Figured you two had gone to bed or something. Fell asleep by accident for a few hours, don’t expect either of you to wait for me.”

“If you were so hungry, why’d you toss the food?” He asks, pointing at the open trash.

“I.. I um…” she fumbles on her words, unable to find a good excuse. A quick sharp pain shoots behind her eyes, making her wince. “Stop asking questions.”

“(Y/n),” Sirius sighs, gathering the last of the glass. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but we’re trying to understand. We can’t do that if you keep lying to us.”

(Y/n) stands up slowly, looking away from him. She doesn’t say a word as she turns around, looking down at her hand. Sirius eyes her cautiously as he puts the trashcan back. (Y/n) shuts her eyes, muttering something to herself before she takes a deep breath and turns around.

“Am I really so hard to understand to you?” She asked him quietly, not looking at him. “Has it never occurred to you that I have no reason to tell you anything? Since I’ve been here my memories have been stolen and destroyed, I’ve been moved from one dungeon to a bright golden cage, I’ve been tortured with Unforgivables, and my own father has attacked me. Why would I show any vulnerability in a place that’s only ever been unsafe?

“I see the wardings and spells that you’ve put into place, including the ones that will nearly kill me to restrain me. I hear all the things everyone thinks about me, about each other.” (Y/n)‘s voice is shaky as she continues. “Why would I tell the truth when none of you ever do? You all pretend to be fine having me around, but I can hear you all wondering when the next shoe will drop. No one has even trusted me with knowing that Harry is going to be coming here before school starts. Too worried I’ll break, that I’ll lose it. But you want me to be truthful? No, you want me to be helpful? Wait, that’s not the goal though, right, Sirius?”

Sirius is too stunned to speak. (Y/n) huffs as she pushes past him and out the door. She pauses for a moment when she sees Remus staring at her in shock on the other side of the hall. They lock eyes for a moment, neither saying a word. She’s the first to look away, quickly going up the stairs, undoing the makeshift bandage.

(Y/n) tosses the cloth to the side, ignoring the stinging sensation on her hand. She makes it to her room quickly, slamming the door shut behind her. She drags a chair over and puts it in front of the door, angled just below the door knob. It doesn’t take long for there to be a knock at her door.

“(Y/n)? Can we talk?” Remus’s muffled voice asks. She watches as he turned the handle, trying to open the door but fails. “(Y/n) please, I know you overheard part of our conversation downstairs. We didn’t mean anything by it, we were just clearing the air.”

(Y/n) stays quiet, sitting down on her bed. There’s a soft thud sound outside the door, followed by the sound of something sliding. She looks at the door confused.

“You’re right.” Remus tells her through the door. “When we first let you up here, we wanted you to be helpful. We give you something, you give us something. And we are worried about you losing it. You said it yourself you’ve lost it before.”

(Y/n) flinches hearing his words.

“And we do have a goal. It’s not for you though, not entirely.” Remus sighs. “It sounds stupid, but we… we want you to be able to be yourself. Even if it’s just in this stupid place. And I know, what you’ve had to go through here, what you’re still going through… it’s not fair.”

(Y/n) sighs, standing up slowly.

“And I’ve been an ass.” Remus admits. “It was my idea to talk to you in the first place, to get you out of the cell. I want to trust you, but… I guess if anyone would understand it’d be you. I’m a werewolf, (y/n). I hear heartbeats the way you hear thoughts. It gets in the way sometimes, no matter how much I try to ignore it.”

(Y/n) moves the chair from the door, opening it up. She doesn’t say anything as Remus falls backward into the room, having been sat against it. The two of them stare at eachother in silence for a moment before she holds her hand out to help him up.

“I don’t mean to listen you know.” (Y/n) mutters after helping him. “You all have a habit of thinking loudly, I can’t always ignore it.”

“I’m sorry about yelling at you before.” Remus apologizes again. “About the mirror.”

“S’fine.” She shrugs. “Like I said before, I deserve worse than your anger.”

“Sirius was going to come up too.” Remus says awkwardly.

“I’m sorry about lying so much.” She blurts quickly. “It’s just… it’s the only way I survived growing up. Hard habits or whatever the saying is. I’m not used to this.”

“They really did do a number on you, huh?” Remus remarks. She freezes for a moment, looking down at her hurt hand.

“Yeah. I… I guess they did.” She takes a deep breath in. “I’m going to regret this…”

“Huh?” Remus looks at her confused.

“He’s in my head.” (Y/n) says quickly as the fire-like pain flares up behind her eyes. A wave of pain hits her hard causing her knees to buckle, sending her to the ground.

“Hey you don’t have to-” Remus tries to catch her but fails. He quickly crouches down. “You’ll just hurt yourself, stop.”

“I… I don’t want…” (Y/n) feels tears fall down her cheeks. “I can’t just do whatever he wants. I won’t!” She shouts, holding her head in her hands as the pain worsens. The whispers start swirling around her head.

“(Y/n) you need to stop.” Remus urges worriedly. “Talk about something else, anything else.”

“No!” She growls, swatting away one of his hands as he reaches for her. She manages to open her eyes, meeting his. “Let me help!”

“(Y/n)…” Remus looks at her eyes, panic running down his spine. Her eyes are bloodshot, her nose beginning to bleed. “Please stop.”

“You should really listen to him.” Her father’s voice rang out.“Stop trying to brute force your way through. It won’t work. Not without killing you.”

“Shut up!” She cried loudly, covering her ears. Remus backed up a bit.

“You think I’d have made a curse so easily broken?” Voldemort laughed loudly. “You were raised better than that, trained better than that. Just give it up, no matter what you do I’ll win.”

“(Y/n),” Remus said softly, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. “Please, stop. You’re hurting yourself, and you’re worrying me.”

“Look at how he pretends to care!” Voldemort barks. “Poor (y/n), to weak to help herself. You’re as disappointing as your mother was. I suggest you stop before you meet them same fate.”

“What?” (Y/n) asks stunned. “What does that mean?”

“I said you were worrying me.” Remus says confused. “I’m worried. You’re bleeding from your nose. Whatever you’re doing, it’s not going to help.”

“No, not you.” (Y/n) waves him off. She’s silent for a moment, trying to listen for her father, but is instead met with silence. The whispers melting into the background and the pain starting to subside.“Damn it!”

“Woah, hey what’s going on in here?” Sirius asks from the doorway, glass of scotch in one hand, bottle in the other.

“Curse.” Remus and (Y/n) both say in unison, the young woman flinching as she says it.

“Wanted to help.” She grumbles frustrated. “Turns out, not much help.”

“Okay, good.” Sirius smiles, turning toward his room. “Worried you two were fighting again. Heard yelling.”

“Are you okay?” Remus asks her, ignoring his drunk friend.

“Do we fight that often?” She asks confused. “And yeah, it goes as quick as it comes.” She flinches. “When I keep my mouth shut.”

“Right, sorry.” Remus lets out a sigh of relief. “Next time, more warning.”

“Sorry.” (Y/n) groans as she stands up, using the dresser as stability. “I um… I do think I just chose though.”

“Chose?” Sirius asks from the door, stopping in his tracks. “Chose what?”

“A side.” She looks at Remus worriedly. “Is that what I did?”

“Well… I guess yeah.” Remus looks at Sirius and then down at the bottle of scotch. “Did you bring more glasses?”

“No, but I could always just conjure some, why?” Sirius asks, a small smirk on his features.

“I think we all deserve a drink.” Remus says, helping (y/n) to her bed. “Any objections?”

“Merlin’s beard no.” (Y/n) says, gesturing to Sirius to come in. “Hurry before I change my mind.”

“Haven’t heard that one in a while…” Sirius jokingly mutters as he enters the room, shutting the door behind him. “Then again, was in Azkaban for a while. Not a lot of choice in there.”

“I’m sure you’ve had many happy partners.” (Y/n) says, taking the bottle from him as he gets close enough. She takes a big gulp of the alcohol straight from the bottle. She coughs lightly as it stings her throat. “Why’d I do that?”

“Drink from the bottle?” Sirius asks confused.

“No, why’d I do all of that?” She gestures toward the dresser area. “Choose a side, try to brute force, ow, the curse, fuck!” She grabs her head in pain.

“Worry about that tomorrow.” Remus says, taking the bottle from her and having a sip himself. “Tonight, we drink.”

End of Chapter Nine

[manslaught]

she's probably right. in fact, mikayla most likely would have only made everything so much worse for tai, since she has the tendency to do that, whether she's trying to or not. “ probably not, but at least... ” at least we'd be together, but mikayla can't bring herself to finish the sentence, not when she won't let them be together in any way that matters. their friendship — if it can even be called that, because this feels nothing like any friendship she's had before — does matter to her, because at least she isn't completely shoving her away, the way she did for years before, but it's clear that it isn't enough for either of them. and yet, mikayla still won't allow anything more. “ i don't know. never mind. you're probably right. ”

mikayla's eyes close, because she doesn't know why all of this has to feel so hard — it's stupid to be stressing so much over it, considering everything else going on around them, but at least she knows that being here isn't her fault. this tension with tai is, though, and while she knows exactly how to end it, either by completely ruining their relationship or actually giving them what they both want, she feels stuck. “ that's cute, ” she mumbles, opening her eyes only to focus on the ground, debating whether or not to admit the same thing in return. again, it shouldn't be so hard, but she's afraid that tai might only ask questions mikayla doesn't want to answer if she does. still, she feels like she owes her something, some kind of confirmation that taissa isn't the only one. “ yeah, i did, too. which is probably why it's better it didn't happen. ” because she's pretty sure she knows what would have happened if they found themselves together again last night, she can't promise that she wouldn't run and hide from it in the morning. tai's already dealt with that enough.

“ she's such a fucking freak. ” she rolls her eyes, biting back far worse comments, not because she actually cares about talking about misty behind her back (she'd do it to her face, too) but because she doesn't want to come off as completely heartless to tai. “ i know, ” she sighs when tai tells her she notices, trying to ignore the racing of her heart at even the slightest touch of their hands, desperate to maintain some kind of composure. “ it's a little annoying sometimes, actually. can't do shit anymore. ” the complaint isn't genuine, because any kind of attention from tai makes her feel warm; it's always been that way, even back when they'd do nothing but argue, but it's worse now that they don't.

she hopes it's not too obvious, the way she stops breathing entirely when tai's gaze drops to her lips, because she didn't mean for them to get here for once; she just wants to look at her without having to pull back, but she shouldn't be surprised, really. mikayla doesn't allow herself to do the same, mostly just for tai's sake, although it's hard. “ if it's up to me, then yeah, we're good. ” of course nothing has actually been solved here, because mikayla still won't admit what she actually wants, even if it feels so obvious that she shouldn't have to. she moves her head again, nuzzling closer against her shoulder as she looks back down at their hands, hesitating before reaching for tai's, slowly intertwining their fingers together. she's hyperaware of the fact that anyone could stumble upon them and see, but as long as she can milk the tired and cold excuse, she doesn't care as much as she usually might. “ you're just, like... the only person i have here. i don't want to ruin it. ” she admits, even if ruining it feels inevitable, because she's still herself.

would that have really been better?  it seems like lately,  every time mikayla is around,  it just makes everything harder for taissa.  she doesn't want it to be that way,  because she likes spending time with her -- she likes her -- but she can't read mikayla at all.  every time she thinks she has it figured out,  mikayla seems to change up on her,  and with the state tai was in the night before,  she can't imagine that would have been fun for either of them.  ❝  you weren't,  ❞  she points out,  shaking her head slightly.  ❝  and that's fine.  wouldn't have changed anything.  ❞   because,  no,  none of them were thinking rationally.  it's a fair response,  but of course,  with mikayla,  she means more --- it wouldn't have changed anythign because mikayla made it clear before the night started that she wasn't moving forward. 

she wonders what mikayla might have done if they were together,  and while she knows that it's possible there would be a repeat of what happened before tai left a few weeks ago,  she knows it's better that they didn't let it happen this way.  it would only make everything more confusing --- and more frustrating, too.   ❝  yeah, me too.  ❞   whatever was in the stew,  added to her growing frustration before the party started,  was bound to make it a horrible night for tai no matter what.  her brows furrow slightly,  wondering if mikayla actually is admitting to something,  and she lets out a small sigh,  trying not to remind her that mikayla's created other kinds of chaos for tai without those substances.   ❝  no, i shouldn't,  ❞   she agrees,  waiting a moment before she caves slightly.   ❝  doesn't mean i didn't want to be with you anyway,  ❞   she says quietly, barely loud enough to hear.

 tai lets out a scoff, the assumption sending a chill through her body.   ❝  apparently it's not the first time,  ❞   she mumbles.   ❝  she just let the rest of us have it this time, too.  ❞   her breath catches in her throat as mikayla moves her hand.  it's a little obvious,  which should comfort tai,  but it doesn't,  because she's still terrified to give into it.  instead of actually grabbing her hand,  the back of hers presses lightly to the back of mikayla's,  holding it there just for a touch -- one subtle enough that they can both write off as an accident if they need to.  ❝  well,  i notice,  ❞   she says simply.  and she's been noticing this entire time,  since long before they ever found  a way to be civil.  she notices so much that it's starting to overwhelm her.    it's a nice offer,  but tai knows that doesn't account for the times she walks away and does give her a warning -- one that inevitably breaks her heart over and over again.  ❝  okay,  ❞  she says simply,  hoping that in some way,  she at least means it. 

she takes a deep breath,  because she knows mikayla's apology is sincere,  and she definitely wasn't expecting it.  ❝  i don't want to be mad at you all the time either,  ❞   she says quietly.  it makes all of this even harder.  at least a few months ago,  that was easy.  but now,  it comes with a lot of feelings and emotions that tai hadn't ever really allowed herself to feel before nationals.   her heart starts to beat faster as mikayla turns her head,  and when she looks down,  it's all too tempting to resume their place from the day prior.  she won't,  because she knows better,  but it's impossible for her eyes not to look down at her lips anyway.  they do,  and the stare lingers for a long moment as she tries to figure out how to respond.  it doesn't feel like a fair question, not when mikayla is probably still not willing to be real with her in any way.  in the back of tai's mind, she knows her answer should be no,  and she should walk away --- but how could she walk away from her?   ❝  i don't know,  ❞   she finally says,  her eyes meeting mikayla's again.  ❝  are we?  ❞  

[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, and thanks for sticking with this. It’s quite fun to write for this ship, and I hope you’re all ready for homoerotic exercise and another argument between men who don’t know how to communicate :)

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Three - Proving a Point

Day Two: Tuesday

Gajeel woke in a pissy mood. This wasn't going like it was supposed to.

Freed was meant to be a smug, self important man with no practical skills, no world-hardened experiences, and no way of keeping up with what Gajeel was demanding of him. His three day plan had focused around humbling Freed, telling him that he wasn't hot-shit like he clearly thought, and making him realise that his cushioned life didn't mean he was Gajeel's equal.

What was not meant to happen was for Freed to be competent! He wasn't meant to make a shelter, he wasn't meant to be able to make a fire without a match, and he wasn't meant to be able to cook the damn fish and make them taste good! Even Gajeel couldn't do that.

Worse, the fucker knew. Oh he knew what Gajeel wanted but wasn't getting.

He hadn't been so smug when he'd lost though, had he? He hasn't been running his mouth when he'd been in the stream, gurgling his pathetic little surrender. Nah, he'd looked exactly how Gajeel wanted him; weak, embarrassed and unable to deal with the fact he was out of his league.

Sure, it hadn't taken long for Freed to recover and spout some bullshit about Gajeel being intimidated by his magic, or whatever the hell it was he said. He was trying to save face and Gajeel wouldn't let him; he had lost their fight because he couldn't live without his spells. That was impractical, short sighted and the way a spoiled brat of a man worked. No doubt if he had to rely on his fists more, he would have seen the stream as something to take advantage of and used it, rather than falling into Gajeel's trap.

Hah. At least one thing had gone Gajeel's way.

Mostly.

Kind of.

Look, Gajeel might hate the man and the things he seemed to stand for, but Freed wasn't bad looking. And Gajeel was just a man, who had been stripped to the waist with Freed in the same state of undress, wrestling one another. He was bound to get distracted for a moment. Thankfully, Freed's nasty kick to the balls and the ensuing tantrum after had quickly quelled any growing interest.

Gajeel knew what he had to do today, though. Because if he was going to fight with Freed at the end of the week, he needed to respect the man. He wasn't going to respect Freed if he couldn't take a defeat, and if he couldn't handle himself without his magic. So today, Freed was going to prove he had the ability to back up his words.

Okay, it was a tenuous reason for what he had planned, but fuck it. Fuck Freed too.

It was tempting to wake the prick up by dumping some of the water Gajeel had gathered over his sleeping face - a nice little reminder of how the fight had ended - but he decided against it. He needed to have everything prepared before he woke up, so it would be better to check that everything was in place. That, and Freed apparently snored a little when he was sleeping, and Gajeel certainly didn't want to interrupt the possible blackmail that could come from it.

And perhaps it was nice to have something cut through the silence of the forest.

Gajeel had trained in this forest many times, and as such had come to know how to utilise it's assets. He wandered slowly, blinking away the sleep in his eyes, and eventually found what he was looking for. A large tree that had fallen down years ago, and stumbled down a hill. What remained was a leafless trunk at the bottom of a steep incline, perfect for strength training.

Next, he walked to the largest upstanding tree within reasonable walking distance. Gajeel had often climbed this tree to push his agility and upper body strength, and it was the perfect way to test Freed's practical skills. The tree was still standing tall, the branches Gajeel used to climb still attached. Perfect, no excuses for when Freed fucked up.

When he got to the lake, Gajeel grinned a little. The morning was cold and the water would be freezing, the worst temperature to take a swim in. Normally Gajeel would have hated to swim in weather like this, but it would certainly be a nice wake-up call for the spoiled little Prince.

Yeah, this was gonna be fun. For Gajeel anyway.

——

"I think yesterday proved pretty damp conclusively that you're out of luck if you don't have your magic," Gajeel said with crossed arms, looking down at Freed. "So, today I'm gonna teach you a couple techniques that'll come in handy when you're in a situation where you can't spell yourself out of trouble."

Freed clearly wanted to make a comment, but held his tongue. He was learning, huh.

When Gajeel had returned from his check of the forest, Freed had woken up, set up a new fire and was using the rest of the fish (and a few berries that he had picked) to make them both a breakfast. Gajeel had wanted to reject it out of hand, but it had smelt great and if it was anywhere near as good as his meal the day before, refusing it would be a mistake. It had tasted amazing, so Gajeel had huffed out a thanks and gave a short nod of thanks.

Soon after that, Gajeel had motioned for Freed to follow him. Freed had done so without complaint - Gajeel couldn't prove it, but liked to think it was because the asshole was too embarrassed after his loss - and allowed himself to be led down the stream, towards the lake.

"You've got wings right, when you use yer magic?" Gajeel asked. "So yer probably gonna use 'em to get over every little thing, right?"

"Like you do with your little cat friend, I expect," Freed commented, and Gajeel stiffened slightly. Freed noticed and smirked a little. "My apologies, I interrupted you. Please, go on."

"Don't need yer permission," Gajeel grunted, more to himself than to the man standing before him. "But if yer using yer wings as much as I think you are, you ain't ready to deal with terrain that ain't easy to walk through. So, if this week's about improving then this is gonna help you get over that flaw. We run from here towards the lake, taking us through forested ground which ain't even and ain't safe, and then we swim from one side of the lake to the other."

"So it's a race then?" Freed asked, annoyingly not intimidated by the proposition.

"If you want," Gajeel shrugged. "But I ain't got a prize or anythin'. Definitely not one for participation, like yer probably used to."

Freed rolled his eyes at that, but didn't ride to the bait. Instead, he said, "Perhaps when I win, you'll cook for once."

"You ain't gonna win," Gajeel claimed.

"We'll see," Freed hummed a little, far too smug for his own good.

"Stretch up," Gajeel muttered, even though he wanted to push the man further, maybe even see if he could add an actual forfeit for losing, something to really make the fucker squirm. But, well, Gajeel didn't know for sure he would win, so couldn't risk things just in case.

Just as Gajeel went to start stretching his calves, he heard the sound of ruffling fabric and frowned. He ignored it for a moment as he felt the gentle burn of his muscles working, but caught sight of Freed's white - now dirt stained and crumpled - shirt now hanging over the branch of a nearby tree. With slightly furrowed brows, he turned towards Freed to demand an explanation, only to see him kicking off his pants and placing them right next to his shirt, leaving him only in his boxer-briefs. His tight and eye-catching boxer-briefs.

Before the thoughts could even form about how Freed was wearing his underwear to perfection, Gajeel forced his memory back to the night before. About how he'd acted and how he had tried to make Gajeel feel like crap just to feed his own ego.

Freed had lost a wrestling match, and had thrown a fit about it. Gajeel couldn't respect a man like that, and he couldn't find a guy hot if he didn't respect him.

"The hell are you doing?" Gajeel demanded.

"If we're going to swim, then I'd rather not get my only set of clothes wet when it could be avoided," Freed explained, and Gajeel was momentarily thankful that he didn't look ready to remove his boxers. He couldn't think like that, so spoke again.

"Cause you can't stand a bit of discomfort, right?" Gajeel grumbled.

"No, I just don't see the point of making things worse for myself to prove a point," Freed looked pointedly towards Gajeel when he said that. "The water is clearly going to be cold and the weather doesn't look like it'll improve, meaning it'll be a struggle to dry ourselves already. The fire can only do so much, and we'll either have to lounge around in wet clothes out of stubbornness, or remove them and wait for them to dry while we ourselves get dry. That extends the time we'll be cold, making us both uncomfortable and wasting time before whatever inane task you've got next. That, coupled with the fact that this is flu season, seems like good enough justification for avoiding a stupid problem."

Gajeel could hardly argue the point, so instead he mumbled, "We ain't gonna be lounging around."

"What an astute and well thought out argument," Freed deadpanned, and Gajeel wanted to punch him again. He didn't, instead averting his eyes as Freed started to stretch his arms. "Nobody is forcing you to do the same if you're shy, Mister Redbox. To me it just feels like the reasonable course of actions."

Rather than speaking, Gajeel turned his back. He also removed his shirt and boots; but he wasn't getting half naked like the pervert next to him.

Calling him a pervert was maybe a stretch.

He pushed back that thought, as well as the thoughts of how damn good Freed's ass looked in those boxers - Gajeel was only a man, and he couldn't deny what he saw - and instead got himself into line with Freed. The race is what he should have been focusing on, not the fact that Freed didn't look half bad when he was taken away from his pampered and luxurious sheen. Tangled hair and the odd spec of dirt really did wonders for the pretty-boy.

The race. Focus on the race. And the fact the guy couldn't deal with a loss.

"Ready?" Gajeel asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Go."

He lurched forward before he could think, sprinting through the undergrowth of the the forest as he ran towards the lake. Years of guild work in places like this had allowed for the perfection of running through the forest; you kept alternating your gaze between the ground and on the trees.

Usually he would have turned his skin to iron so he wouldn't have to focus on the branches in his way, but he was trying to prove a point. He winced a little as a sharp end to a twig scraped against his cheek, far too close to his eye, but didn't let it stop his pace. He could hear Freed's breathing very close behind him, so evidently Freed knew how to run through a forest as well as Gajeel did, so he couldn't let up for a moment.

When they were out of the forest, there was a short run towards the lake with more space than there had been in the forest. Gajeel forced himself to run as fast as he could, not wanting to let Freed overtake him now he had the width to do so. And not having a view of the man's body might-

The race. The way he'd acted the night before. Focus dammit!

If telling himself wasn't enough to cut off his libido, the face first plunge into freezing, dirty water certainly did. He let out a shuddering gasp when his head broke the surface, but couldn't allow the ice-cold water to stop him. He quickly started to swim, smirking a little when he realised he still had the lead.

The smirk died when Freed overtook him pretty damn quickly.

Gajeel saw nothing but ripples of water ahead of him, and gritted his teeth as he tried to speed up. He was a man built to brute force his way through a problem, while Freed was apparently more agile. He should have expected that, but he had wanted to leave Freed in the dust during the run so it wouldn't be an issue.

All he could do now was swim to the other shore of the lake, pissed off.

When he reached the end of the lake, he saw Freed resting on one of the large boulders that made up the shoreline. He was panting, soaking wet and still wearing those fuckimg boxers. When he saw Gajeel haul himself up from the water, he looked towards him and smirked.

"That didn't end up how you wanted, did it?"

"Shut up," Gajeel snarled. "Get yer clothes, we've got a busy day."

When Freed laughed, Gajeel nearly pushed him into the lake again.

——

"So, you think ya can beat that?"

Gajeel had more than got his confidence back now, and he was smirking at Freed with his arms flexed intentionally.

Both he and Freed were stood at the bottom of a steep hill, where the dead tree-truck sat. Gajeel had explained this challenge; they would both have to push the tree-truck up the hill as far as they could. The justification for this exercise was that Freed might one day find himself in a situation where he was trapped without his magic and needed to force his way out with his strength alone, and the exercise was meant to simulate that. Freed clearly saw that Gajeel just wanted to push his limits, but he didn't say anything.

This was the last task of the day. They'd already attempted the tree climbing that Gajeel had planned, and Freed had been obnoxiously good at it. Gajeel had been faster, but they both knew that he had a natural advantage because he'd had practice. Gajeel could hardly boast about being slightly better then Freed at something he had done many times and Freed was new to.

Gajeel had just finished his attempt at pushing the trunk, and was fucking delighted when he saw he'd beaten his own personal record. This was how he would regain his control over things.

Freed didn't stand a chance.

"I'm sure I'll be a worthy contender," Freed stated, walking towards the tree-trunk. "Which is a feat, I expect, given that you've clearly been setting me up for failure from the beginning."

"Maybe if you weren't so predictable then I wouldn't have been able to plan things out so well," Gajeel grunted.

"So you predicted that, in everything other than tasks that relied solely on physical strength, I have exceeded your expectations and beaten you in completion, I suppose?" Freed taunted quietly as he positioned himself against the tree-trunk. "I expect you did all of this simply to prove your inferiority."

"Inferiority?" Gajeel scoffed. "You ain't done anything but bitch about this because it's not going yer way."

"Not going my way?" Freed laughed, turning from the log and looking at Gajeel again. "You are joking, aren't you?"

"All you've done is make yer little comments about how you don't think it's fair," Gajeel challenged, taking a step forward and glaring the other man down. "And when ya lose, you throw a tantrum."

"I throw tantrums," Freed demanded, sounding equal parts exasperated and annoyed. "As opposed to you, who has been acting perfectly rational throughout this? It hasn't escaped my attention that you clearly see Makarov's initiative as some sort of personal affront to you, and you have apparently seen it fair to force all of these grievances onto me. So for you, a man who has been as close to stomping his feet and wailing as his pride allows, to complain about me throwing a tantrum is practically laughable."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Gajeel took another step forward. "I'm doing this because yer clearly a spoiled little city-boy and I ain't associating myself with something who can't-"

"Can't what?" Freed snapped. "Can't make a shelter? Can't start a fire? Can't swim across a lake faster than you? Because I've done all of this despite your clear hopes otherwise. Or would you rather judge my worth as a mage by seeing me push a dead tree up a hillside, or to wrestle you without the weapon I use nor the magic I wield? Because, Mr Redfox, if you need to force such strict parameters to best me and you consistently lose, then perhaps your plan isn't a good one."

Fuck, he wanted to punch the guy. Fully encase his fists in iron and beat the shit out of the guy. It would be damn satisfying to see the guy knocked out, while the smugness straight out of him.

"Nothing to say?" Freed continued, a patronising look on his face.

"Fuck off," Gajeel growler, turning around and going to walk away. Before he could take a step, a wall of glowing runes shot up in front of him, blocking his exit. He turned to Freed with an expression of fury. "What the hell is your problem?"

"You," Freed snapped, and magic seemed to emanate from him.

He looked feral in that moment, with all the shields of fancy clothes and smart ass words replaced by anger and magic. His shirt was billowing in the magic induced winds, and the glare on his face was accentuated by the purple swirling in his eye. Fuck, he looked like a man on the edge and it shot straight to Gajeel's dick. Freed was a gentleman gone wild, and if that wasn't one of Gajeel's most well-buried fantasies then he didn't know what was.

The expression was gone as quickly as it came, and the magic swarming Freed's eye fell away. For a moment, Freed looked worried, but he was talking again before Gajeel could understand why he looked like that.

"Neither of us are happy about this, but at the end of the week we have to fight side by side, and the biggest issue we have right now is that we can't stand one another," Freed seemed more calm now, as if the bubble of anger had burst. What the hell had caused that? "So, either you plan something that might make us work together, or at least respect one another, or we both stop trying and say to hell with the consequences."

Gajeel didn't say anything. It felt like the rug had been pulled from under him.

Suddenly, a wave of shitty realisation hit him. Freed had a point when he said he was taking his anger out on him, when he really just didn't want to do the damn training thing at all. He wasn't being fair.

"I think that's enough," Freed sighed. "I'll gather my things and go home. You needn't contact me again."

Freed was walking away before Gajeel could react, and the walls of runes fell around them both. A horrid feeling of regret filled Gajeel, and he quickly jogged to catch up with Freed, who was clearly ignoring him. He kinda deserved it.

"Shit, Freed, wait," He placed a hand on the man's chest, and Freed glared at him. "Yer right, I ain't been fair," It wasn't a fun thing to admit. "I had some ideas about who you were, and didn't wanna let ya prove me wrong, even when you were kicking my ass," He sighed. "And yer right about me wanting to fuck you over, that's why I did this shit, and it wasn't right. That was shitty of me."

"Well, I can hardly blame you for judging me. We were both guilty of that," Freed admitted. "And thank you for admitting that. But I don't see how we could suddenly become a cohesive, effective team, we're hardly compatible."

Gajeel sighed, Freed had a point.

But if a Fairy Tail mage was good at anything, they were good at being stubborn.

"What if we have a fight?" Gajeel proposed, and Freed frowned at him. "Talking like this ain't gonna get rid of the attitude we have for each other, right? You're still pissed at me, and you said some things that made me wanna sock a punch in yer jaw. Maybe having the chance to beat the shit outta each other might break through the attitude problems we have."

"That's not too bad an idea," Freed admitted, glancing at the evening sky for a moment. "It would be cathartic to make you scream."

"Buy me dinner first, city-boy," Gajeel teased before he could think. Freed all but gaped at him, and Gajeel was speaking to fill the silence before he could stop himself. "Y'know, I ain't ever seen you fight before. Don't know how you work."

"Then I have the advantage," Freed grinned slightly. "And you're voluntarily giving it to me. Perhaps you really are repentant."

"Nah, just wanna kick yer ass without you having an excuse."

"We'll see," Freed smirked, and Gajeel found himself grinning back.

[sleepingcrisis]

Teamwork

@like-a-festival

*****

"Okay so here is the plan —"

"Question!"

"What is it Reki?" Miya asked having to pause his elaborate explanation when the red head raised his hand.

"Why are we caring so much about this?"

"What do you mean?" Miya tilted his head in confusion, as if the thought had never crossed his mind.

They currently sat in Reki’s room. Langa with his head hanging off of the edge of the bed and Reki sitting on his knees on the bed while Miya paced the floor back and forth easily.

"It just seems like we should stay out of their issues. They will figure it out eventually," Reki explained.

"Will they?" Miya asked the hypothetical question but didn't wait for an answer, "They have known eachother for over ten years. They are getting old. You two managed to figure out your feelings within a year. These three have known eachother for —"

"Don't forget Tadashi," Langa piped up.

"Who?"

"Snake."

"Oh... well he and Adam can figure their stuff out, I have full faith in them. It is when you put Cherry, Joe, and Adam together that they only have two brain cells split among the three of them," Miya explained, "They have known eachother for over ten years and they haven't figured themselves out yet!"

"It still isn't our business —"

"When it effects us it becomes our business."

"How has it effected us?" Reki asked with an eye roll.

Miya cleared his throat, "The incident after the tournament, the incident during the tournament, the way they hog the track at S, the way Joe nearly crashed into you when trying to show off, the way Cherry has been nagging us more often when Adam is around, they argue constantly but not actually argue. You know what I mean?"

"No," Langa muttered and sat up. Maybe the blood rushing to his head was keeping him from thinking.

"They are flirting," Miya explained.

The other two didn't seem convinced.

"Okay fine. What flower does Adam bring to his opponents?" Miya asked.

"Roses," Langa explained like he was stupid.

"What did he bring Joe when they had their last beef?"

"That doesn't mean anything —"

"Sunflowers!" Miya cut Reki off. "He brings Joe sunflowers and Cherry gets —"

"Lilac or Cherry Blossoms," Langa answered.

"Precisely!"

"So what is the plan?" Langa asked and ignored the way Reki groaned.

***

The plan was simple enough even if Langa wasn't sure if it made sense.

It started with a bouquet of flowers that Langa convinced Shadow was for Reki... considering Reki and Miya were standing right beside him it probably wasn't very convincing.

Regardless they got the bouquet. Light pink flowers: liles, carnations, bleeding hearts, and more mixed in with a few bright yellow roses. As far as flowers go it looked really good.

Phase two of the plan was easy and went off without a hitch. They simply requested that Langa have a beef with Adam tonight.

He agreed enthusiastically as always.

"They haven't had a beef since the tournament," Reki pointed out as they were making their way there.

"Well they will tonight," Miya decided.

It was true. The three hogged the track on regular nights but never had an official beef again. Now that word was out that Langa was having a beef against Adam there was sure to be a crowd... they just had to hope all three of the actual competitors showed up.

"Hello my little snow bunny. Isn't it always such an honour to share this stage together?" Adam asked as he presented Langa with red roses as always.

"Sure," Langa said as he carefully took them with a small "thanks". He always accepted the roses even if he never knew what to do with them. "Uh Miya?" He glanced over to his friend.

They noticed Adam looked confused but the confusion morphed into an unreadable expression when Miya took the flowers from Reki and presented them to Adam.

"My little snow bunny! I'm honored. Truly —"

"They aren't from me," Langa explained quickly (his wallet said otherwise).

"Well then who are they—" Langa made a slight nodding motion to Cherry and Joe who were watching from their place above the crowds in the rocks. Langa watched as Adam’s eyes, hidden by his mask, made their way over.

From this distance Adam wasn’t able to see how confused the two looked.

"Sorry little Langa. You are going to have to find another dancing partner for tonight," Adam said before leaving... he left. That wasn't supposed to happen.

"Did he just drop out?" Joe asked.

"Adam doesn't drop out of races —"

"That is what he just did Kaoru," Joe fired back. He expected a swift kick, but when he glanced over the pink haired male was staring down at the start point with calculating eyes.

"They did something," Cherry said after a moment before he began to slid down the rocks before Joe could respond, it forced Joe to follow after him.

Cherry got within grabbing distance of Reki first which meant grabbing him by his yellow hoodie.

"Hey Cherry!" Nervousness laced Reki’s voice. He had been about to take Adam’s place for the beef so people still had something to watch.

"Don't give me that, beef is canceled for tonight boys," Cherry stated. "Joe grab the other two," Cherry tacked on. He let go of Reki briefly before grabbing his arm and continuing along.

"There is no way he can get both of those two," Reki scoffed. Ear grabbing simply wasn’t Joe’s style.

Reki was very wrong though when he glanced over in an attempt to ignore his pain when he heard, "let go you old man!"

Joe had Miya and Langa over his shoulders.

"Hold onto your boards or else they are getting left behind," Joe hummed as he kicked his own board along.

They were set down once outside of the gate and a flurry of cusses was thrown at Joe by Miya.

"So what happened?" Cherry asked when Miya was done.

"What do you mean?" Langa asked dumbly. It was hard to know if he was playing along or if he actually just didn't know.

"With Adam," Cherry clarified and rolled his eyes.

"Oh," Langa hummed and didn't elaborate since he felt that Miya should be the one to take the fall on this one. Apparently Reki thought so too but Miya glared at them in return.

"Fine," Reki grumbled, rubbing his sore ear. "Miya had the wonderful idea to buy Adam flowers," he explained.

"Okay and what else is there?" Joe added and tilted his head. "He has always liked being given flowers so that can't possible be it —"

"You didn't say they were from you three did you?" Cherry asked. His calculating eyes seeing through them immediately.

"Wait did you guys say they were from us?" Joe asked when he realized what Cherry meant.

"Uh... nooooo?" Miya hummed with a grin.

Cherry and Joe shared a look that morphed between concern and frustration.

"What is the big deal? People cancel beefs or drop out at the line —"

"Not Adam," Cherry cut Miya off and rubbed his face.

When realizing they had caused him, not just him... both of them, stress they felt the guilt come over.

"Sorry," Langa piped up first and was followed by two other apologetic mutters.

"It's fine," Joe spoke up quickly which earned him a glare from Cherry.

"It most definitely isn't fine —"

"It is fine," Joe insisted and sighed softly. "Let’s go get him," he muttered.

"You two know where he is?" Reki asked but Cherry looked just as confused.

"Yeah I have a hunch," Joe hummed.

"Oh wonderful, a hunch," Cherry grumbled but followed after him anyway since he had a similar guess about where Adam was.

"You three don't pull a stunt like that again!" Joe called as they took off on their boards.

"Well wrong equation but maybe the right solution?" Miya suggested and was met with a wack on the head from Reki.

***

"Told you we would find him here," Joe mentioned as he kicked his board up.

"Shut it," Cherry grumbled as they made their way over to the railing where Adam was. The last time they had all been here together didn’t end well to say the least.

All three were still in their skating outfits and Adam had that bouquet of flowers clutched in a hand over the railing with a frown on his face. When he heard the other two he plastered on an easy smile and turned over to them.

"The boys told me you got me flowers, how kind. Although do wait until we have a beef to gift flowers," he hummed and offered them back.

"We didn't buy them," Cherry mentioned, "I wouldn't but you a bouquet like that anyway."

"Oh—"

"I would buy you a magnolia," Cherry stated quite simply.

"Oh," Adam’s frown turned into something unreadable before he smiled slightly. A little more genuine, "only one?"

"Only one," Cherry confirmed.

"Well then you let yourself get outclassed Cherry. We both know you would get a bouquet of them," Joe scoffed and leaned back against the railing. He considered it for a moment, "Sweet peas."

"What?" Cherry tilted his head. He didn't know much about flowers. Had no reason to get them aside from occasionally for his office.

"Just know that they are nicer then magnolias," Joe hummed with a grin.

"Whatever," Cherry scoffed.

They both looked back to Adam and Cherry reached over to gently take Adam's mask off his face.

"What are you —"

"You showed up to the after party with your mask on yet you said that we were special when we were younger. So what is it going to be Adam?" Cherry asked using only his fingers to hold the mask in place. When he was met with no resistance he carefully took it off.

"You two are special," Adam insisted.

The two seemed skeptical to say the least. The glanced back to one another in silent communication, but they weren't good at regular communication nevermind silent.

"Do you love us?" Joe asked. It had Cherry making noises similar to that of a dieing fish.

"Yes," Adam didn’t hesitate.

Cherry felt his face heat up and the other two though he was flustered for a second, but it wasn’t that... it wasn't embarrassment either. Then his lip quivered and his eyes glossed over.

"You can't say shit like that and also say how boring I am while giving me a concussion!" He snapped. Anger was easier then breaking down, but breaking down followed his anger anyway. When he pressed his palms against his eyes and his chest tightened, Joe was by his side in an instant and had his arms around him as if to shield him from anymore pain. It was like Joe thought that he could protect Cherry — it was as if Kojiro thought he could protect Kaoru from the entire world.

"I —" Adam bit his lower lip in nervousness and looked at his two former best friends — his two lovers — in a way that could only be described as fear, "I wish I could take it back. I wish I could take it all back."

"Ainosuke," Kojiro urged since he could see that the words were on the tip of his tongue. Just waiting to spill out.

"I'm sorry Kaoru," Ainosuke whispered. He reached a hesitant hand over to touch his shoulder but pulled back when Kaoru lunged forward and pressed their lips together. The mask dropping from Kaoru’s hand and onto the pavement in the process.

It wasn't a very long kiss and when Kaoru pulled away Ainosuke realized he was still crying. He had tears running down his cheeks. Before Ainosuke could reach a hand up to clean them away Kojiro did it for him. Gently reaching over Kaoru’s shoulder from behind him and cleaning away his tears without even needing to see where they were. He had the tracks Kaoru’s tears ran memorized.

"You two are so special to me, and if I have to spend the rest of my life proving it to you both then I will. You both are worth every moment of it. Please let me prove it to you?"

"Okay," Kaoru and Kojiro both agreed.

When they left two things stayed: the bouquet of flowers, and Adam’s mask. Propped up against the railing.

***

The problem with someone like Ainosuke trying to prove that Kaoru and Kojiro were special again was that the two were competitive. They couldn't simply allow themselves to be spoilt.

So when Adam showed up with bouquets for them, they both brought flowers for him. And Joe was right. Kaoru couldn't just bring one.

"Wrong equation right solution," Miya pointed out as the three founders of S stood at the starting line, offering eachother flowers.

"Oh shut up, now we have to deal with this," Reki grumbled, "this is arguably worse." Despite his words he did allow himself a small smile.

"Arguably," Langa pointed out, "Should I get you flowers before beefs?"

"No!" Reki shot right back as his face warmed.

There wasn't really a point to it anyway. The three couldn't actually skateboard with flowers in their hands anyway. Instead of giving them to fans (like Joe normally did) they were dumped on the three younger boys.

"They are special," Cherry informed.

"Besides this is your fault," Joe tacked on.

"So hold these for us until we are done, thanks my little snow bunny, you to kitten and birdie!" Adam hummed all happily.

"'Kitten'?"

"'Birdie'?"

"Good luck you three!" Langa called before the lights changed from red to green and the three took off.

[voidstilesplease]

By the Angel, TALK

Warning: THIS IS AN ANTI-CLARY AND JACE SPOILER RANT because I need an avenue to let out some of the steam I've been holding off since starting City of Fallen Angels. So PLEASE SKIP AHEAD because I don't want to burden you all with my reading woes.

This thing centers on the beginning of Chapter 9: From Fire Unto Fire and a little bit of Chapter 8. About eight pages of bad, bad romance set me off.

To start,

The rest is under the cut, so you can go away now.

So, what's been happening to Clary and Jace thus far?

This book introduced them now as an official couple, picking up from the end of TMI Book 3: City of Glass. I don't remember their every scene since then to the point in Chapter 9 where I stopped, but basically, they're having relationship issues early on. They're less than two months into their relationship, and the drama is too frickin much. 

Jace has these weird dreams about murdering Clary and waking up guilty about his subconscious thoughts, so he goes angsting about it and avoiding her, snapping at her, being a total dick, and still question why people think they are on the brink of a break-up. 

So, Jace goes with Simon in the next few scenes, in his plight to get away from her as far as possible, yet still be somehow close by being around Clary's best friend to "protect" him, so his distant behavior will be reasonable and forgivable. Yeah, make that make sense. 🙄 But of course, one way or another, they're going to have to get to the confrontation part (that I still wish had been equivalent to an actual break-up), and so that's when Chapter 8 & 9 enters.

Chapter 8: Walk in Darkness pp. 185-186

Almost instantly, the light went out of them, and the remaining color drained out of his face. "I thought --- Simon said you weren't coming." ¹

[...] "So you only came because you thought I wouldn't be here? [...] Were you ever planning on talking to me again? [...] If you're going to break it off, the least you could do is tell me, not just stop talking to me and leave me to figure it out on my own."

"Why does everyone keep goddamn asking me if I'm going to break up with you? [...]²

First, what an asshole?! 

[1] So Jace finally in-your-face's Clary and confirms that he has been keeping his distance like Clary has the plague. He then has the audacity to [2] be annoyed for being questioned on his intentions of keeping the relationship that he has been actively evading for days!

I get that Jace sucks in romantic relationships and has been fucked up by his daddy-issues, but he has the Lightwoods. Heck, Alec is his parabatai. He sees working relationships, so he has to have known that you don't just stop talking to people close to you and have them not question the behavior, whether you're trying to pull away from them or not. Otherwise, then Jace is dumb for all that he's marketed as the "best" Shadowhunter in his age. Screw that.

---

“You talked to Simon about us?" Clary shook her head. "Why? Why aren't you talking to me?"

"Because I can't talk to you," Jace said. "I can't talk to you, I can't be with you, I can't even look at you."³

[3] Way to make a girl feel special, Jace. Oh, no, yeah. He's trying to do the opposite and push her away with some teenage boy angst that doesn't make any sense. Like, who says that, though, aside from dramatic love interests that can't make a better excuse for going emo? 

That line IS TOO DRAMATIC that it hurts, ugh. 🤮

Anyway, so Clary walks out after that. I don't sympathize with her, but I'd do the same. Who wouldn't? Unless you freeze in the ridiculousness of the situation, that is, which is also likely.

Chapter 9: From Fire Unto Fire pp. 190-195

Now, here's the real shit. I want to quote this entire six-page scene back to Cassie and scream at her.

Clary reached the door and burst out into the rain-drenched evening air. [...] and was about to race across the street against the light when a hand caught her arm and spun her around.

It was Jace. [...] "Clary, didn't you hear me calling you?"

"Let go of me." Her voice shook.

"No. Not until you talk to me."⁴

[4] DUDE, what even happened to your I CAN'T TALK TO YOU, I CAN'T EVEN LOOK AT YOU speech, huh? Be consistent for once, apart from your douchebag routine. Make up your mind, Jace.

---

Still holding her by the arm, he half-dragged her around the van and into a narrow alley that bordered the Alto Bar. ⁵

[5] Man, I love a bit of rough loving in my literature, but I'm so pissed at you, Jace, don't even. Lay the hell off.

---

"I was going to tell you that I was trying to help out Simon. [...]

"And you couldn't tell me? Couldn't text me a single line letting me know where you were?"⁶ [...]

[...]

"I think," he said slowly, "that I thought that the closest thing to being with you was being with Simon. Watching out for him. I had some stupid idea that you'd realize I was doing it for you and forgive me---"⁷

[6] Addressing the lack of communication, that's a great path to follow. These two need to talk so bad. [7] But this line? Sucks Balls. You could be with her, Jacey, and save all the readers your drama if you only pull your head out of your ass and try to communicate. It's like you're allergic to it.

---

She took a step back, blindly, and nearly tripped over an abandoned speaker. Her bag slid to the ground as she put her hand out to right herself, but Jace was already there. He moved forward to catch her, and kept moving until her back hit the alley wall, and his arms were around her, and he was kissing her frantically.⁸

[8] Not only is this achingly cheesy, but it's also totally not the way they should be going off about their situation. They were already talking -arguing, yes, but they're still using words to reach out, and their relationship absolutely cannot be healthy without them. Thus far, they have spoken so less in comparison with the times they've spent canoodling. They're not solving anything by having drama on one second and getting it on with dramatic kissing on the next.

I don't care what Clary says about being so lost in love with Jace. He's treating her like shit. The least he can do is give her answers that she has the right to demand from him. Kissing is not an answer. But, well, maybe to Clary, it is because the next parts from page 192 to 194 are spent on softcore porn in a dark alley under the frickin rain. I bet that's a very romantic setting in their minds, huh.

---

And now this part:

It was nerve-wracking. She could feel the feverish heat that came off him; her hands were still on his shoulders, but it wasn't enough. She wanted him wrapped around her, holding her tight. "W-why," she breathed. "can't you talk to me? Why can't you look at me?"

He ducked his head down to look into her face. His eyes, surrounded by lashes darkened with rainwater, were impossibly gold.

"Because I love you."⁹

[9] Is that supposed to make me tingle? SET ME ON FIRE, but that is the lousiest I love you in books that I have ever read. AND IT'S THE ONLY ONE THAT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE, at all!

Shut up with this, can you please. It's not romantic at all. It's a dumb excuse and an even dumber love from the two dumbest people in this whole frickin series. Oh my god.

Clary, realistically, will frown at this answer. She will pull the hell away and spat him in the face with how demeaning his love is if it can make her sick to the stomach with thinking he has already gone bored and is only cooking the perfect way to cut off their connection. He hasn't given her a sound reason, only desperate declarations of love like he's trying to convince them both that it's true. And it doesn't make sense how she's still plastered around him in the cold, trying to convince the readers that every word from Jace has deeper meanings that she understands no matter how gibberish they are. I'm not buying that, okay? Stop selling your larger-than-life connection bullshit because that isn't real.

You've only been together for two months, okay? The strongest you can feel for each other is lust. And it's showing.

---

His hands slid down to her waist and he kissed her, long and lingering, making her shudder.

She pulled away, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Neither does this," he said, "but I don't care. I'm sick of trying to pretend I can live without you. Don't you understand that? Can't you see it's killing me?"¹⁰

She stared at him. She could see that he meant what he said [...] Her desire for answers battled the more primal part of her brain, and lost. "Kiss me then,"¹¹

[10] NOBODY THREATENED YOU UNDER BLADE TO DO THAT BULLSHIT, so shut the hell up with the whining. [11] and Clary, I am so disappointed. You've both just drained me, and I'm dry inside like a raisin.

The next paragraphs describe their very erotic kissing against the wall. Jace, propping her up and her legs around his waist bull crap. Seriously? Am I supposed to believe these two are, what sixteen?- up until Isabelle thankfully ruins their moment by kicking a garbage can that would look better with Jace and Clary in it tbh.

---

And the nastiest horseshit of all:

Clary looked at Jace. At any other time, they would have laughed together at Isabelle's moodiness, but there was no humor in his expression, and she knew immediately that whatever they had had between them ---whatever had blossomed out of his momentary lack of control--- it was gone now. [...]

"Jace---" she took a step toward him.

"Don't," he said, his voice very rough. "I can't."¹²

And then he was gone [...]

[12] No, I frickin CANNOT. His actions keep on contradicting his words, and he's fickle and can't decide which mood to settle, and it's so exhausting, honestly. He wasted a few pages for a cosmic, meaningless declaration of feelings. They're empty words. At this point, I believe the writing only strives to convince the readers that these characters care for each other but is shitty at showing it.

It's not love, because they say it is love.

---

I was already gaining hope for this book, and then one simple few-pages scene with clace squishes it, smearing the innards on my face.

Honestly, TALK OR TAKE A BREAK. This back and forth can't continue throughout the rest of the book or -heaven forbid- the rest of the series. Or at least, put these characters in the background if they really must drag on this problem, because I care not a lick.

Bye.

[cherry-ber]

Too drunk to fuck pt.9

Previous | Part one

Whatever that text was supposed to mean, you didn't care. You purposely ignored and avoided Mark the whole week, and after a few ignored messages, he gave up, and seemed to understand what you were probably thinking, every day Jaemin walked you home -because then you'd spend more time together than if he drove, he said- after a day in school with your new friends, and every day promised to be better than the last one. Friday came sooner than expected, and you got up earlier to dress extra special, tonight's dinner with Jaemin and your parents, although excited, made you incredibly anxious. So many things could go wrong.

When the classes were over, Jaemin was waiting for you outside of your classroom, holding your hand and giving you a sweet kiss as soon as he saw you. He carried your bag as you walked to his car, before you were home for dinner, he figured it would be nice to have a real first date, not a risky late night trip or an awkward meeting with your parents. He'd never done that, dating had never been important for him, he was too busy, and too invested with his deals and his friends, no time for girls and feelings at all, but he did a great job at planning, though. He took you to a museum, fair enough, you had to go as an assignment from Art class, but when you asked him to be your museum date, he was absolutely into it, then he took you to an ice cream parlor, a cute one, with the prettiest walls and decorations, and the best ice cream you've ever had. He took you flower picking, and to a park with lots of dogs being walked, and finally back home, just in time for you to be earlier than your parents. He greeted them politely, and your father was happy to see him again. Jaemin looked as handsome as he always did, but putting on his good boy persona, he looked softer and nicer than he usually did. His hair was pushed back, and he was wearing a light, baby blue sweater, that matched your baby blue, princess dress, your mom wasted no time mentioning how cute it was that you wore matching outfits, although it was actually a big casualty you did.

They had many, too many, questions for him. How you two met, how long you'd been friends, what classes you had together, what did the rest of your friends do, what did he want to do for a leaving, what were his plans after school. Jaemin handled every single question and gave an answer to every question that astonished your parents.

Jaemin's phone received a bunch of calls, he never picked up, arguing that if it were truly important, no one would really call him, but when your parents stood up the table for a couple minutes, and he finally had time to check his phone, all the calls were Mark's, but he left no message, and your date assumed it was, probably, not important at all. Usually, at least some months ago, on Fridays they'd be going to the abandoned warehouse, get drunk and have a race, or maybe they'd be shoplifting, attending their clients and playing dumb when they got caught, and although Jaemin, and the rest of his friends, knew it was bad, a tiny particle in his mind is telling him that he should be doing that right know. There's a part of them that has accepted the path they started walking so long ago, and it's a shame that they did, since the could be doing so much better.

After the food, and the awkward, intrusive, questions were out of the table, Jaemin suggested you went to Jeno's place again, and because you had no interest in staying home, you agreed, asked your parents permission to be home, and reluctantly they said yes, although you knew they agreed basically because Jaemin is too convincing, and too likeable.

He drove with the windows down, which made the chilly air play with his hair, giving him this absolutely attractive, messy hairstyle, and then all you wanted to do was to make him stop and kiss him while you ran your fingers through his hair. The annoying ringtone of your phone got your mind back to where you were sitting, and looking at the notification bar, you notice how many texts from Mark you got all day long, last one being received in thus exact moment.

“Friday, 7:15 a.m, Mark ♡:

hey”

“can we meet today?”

“Friday, 8:30 a.m, Mark ♡:

are you free after this period?”

“Friday, 9:48 a.m, Mark♡:

are you okay?”

“Y/N”

“???”

“Friday, 2:45 p.m, Mark♡:

are you at home”

“did I do something wrong?”

“Friday, 4:04 p.m, Mark ♡:

I think you hate me?”

“wait”

“you're with jaemin right?”

“Friday, 6:36 p.m, Mark ♡:

So i saw jaemin driving”

“And i was about to get close”

“and then i see you on the passenger side”

“you couldve replied, yk”

“Friday, 7:19 p.m, Mark ♡:

Ans know im fucking drunkk”

“fuck yOu”

“actually no”

“Friday, 8:58 p.m, Mark ♡:

hu sorry im liken really rly drunk”

“im at jenooossssss'”

“ypu should comeb too”

By the time you finished reading, it was too late, Jaemin had already parked, and when the men inside noticed, all of them, except Mark, came out to greet him, and when they saw you, they couldn't look happier. They urged you inside, but before you could get to the living room with them, Jeno stopped you and Jaemin.

“So, look, Mark is... Kinda sensitive right now” he looks into his direction, Mark sitting on the floor, with his head head resting on Renjun's lap, he's laughing and smiling and rubbing his hands on the carpet “I don't know what he had, he's drunk but, I think he might be high too”

Jaemin makes an effort to keep his annoyance unseen, remembering that every time Mark drinks, it's a mistake, a mistake that he's gonna have to solve.

“Just” Jeno knows, Jeno can read Jaemin like a book, and although he agrees that they shouldn't be the ones caring after his oldest friend, he can't let him alone whenever he needs them “don't mind him, he's saying weird shit, he's harmless”

Jeno sits in the couch next to Renjun, trying to block Mark's view of you, but when you walk in, holding Jaemin's hand, he loses it. His laugh is insanely loud, and it's almost scary, making Jaemin squeeze your hand harder between his, and he grabs someone's drink and takes it in a single sip, you can tell it was strong, because of the face he's making. Suddenly, everyone in the room is uncomfortable, waiting for someone to make the next move.

After minutes of staring at the wall in front of him, Mark stands up, tumbling when he does, and walks closer to you, stopping when you are just a few centimeters away from him. Jaemin reacts immediately, pushing Mark away from you, and putting himself between you two. Mark giggles, he looks innocent, and when you're about to apologize to him, that sweet look disappears.

“Are you really gonna let her get between us?” he asks jaemin, arrogance in his tone, and absolutely spiteful when he looks at you.

“You're drunk, go home” all eyes are on them both, but no one really dares to interfere.

“Is that all you're going to say?” he walks closer to Jaemin, and although he wishes that Mark doesn't do anything else, he's ready for whatever he tries “is that it, huh? I give you a home when you need it, a job, money, my time” he grabs Jaemin by the collar of his shirt “I let you into my life” Renjun rushes to you, dragging you out of the room, meanwhile Jeno and Donghyuck try to get Mark and Jaemin away from each other.

Everything happened too fast, and you can't even complain when Renjun walks you upstairs to Jeno's room and locks the door. You can hear the screaming from downstairs and there's nothing you can do to help. Your mom couldn't have possibly chosen a worst time to call, lying, you tell her that as soon as the movie you're watching is over, Jaemin will drive you back home.

Jisung and Chenle are leaving, after Renjun insisted that they shouldn't be there, although they are worried, they know there's not much they can do, and promise to be ready if something else happens, they say you goodbye from the porch, and offer to walk you home, but you know you can't leave just yet.

Jeno was successful in calming Jaemin down, but Mark wasn't going to stop until he got what he wanted, Donghyuck and Renjun getting tired of dealing with him, but doing it anyway because the idea of what could come next was too scary. Jaemin unlocks the door, and brings you back down, with Jeno and himself protecting you from whatever Mark could try, going outside and into his car. Jeno apologizes to the both of you, and runs back inside.

Jaemin doesn't speak in the whole way back home, when he stops, he opens the door for you, walks you to the door, and says sorry when you open the door. You can only shake your head and give him a kind smile, hoping that he understands what you are trying to say. He drives away, but instead of going home, as you wished he did, he takes the way back to the mess, you watch him drive off, and you can only hope that things don't end up too bad.

“Saturday, 1:26 a.m, unknown number:

Don't panic, but Mark's in the hospital”

next♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

A.N: well that escalated quickly 😳

HeyyYYYyYy I'm finally bringing this back, after, well, i got notes from the whole series again. I hope you're having a good time guys, be healthy, be safe.

[dreams-of-wings]

Impossible (6/8)

Imagine Billy Hargrove with a Mixed Race/Biracial S/O

Warnings: Racism, swearing, homophobia, homophobic slurs, mild violence, you throw hands a lot, angst.

Masterlist

You stay blocking the window sill for a bit cuz you enjoy seeing him squirm.

Honestly, he is bad at this whole climbing thing and he's struggling to not fall on his ass.

You finally let him in after he almost falls.

You're laughing your ass off while he's climbing through your window and simultaneously having a heart attack.

"It would have been less of a hassle if you used the door."

"I didn't think your parents would be happy if someome like me came knocking on their door asking for you."

You raise a brow at this, someone like him?

After a minute it occurs to you.

"Oh you mean a violent, racist, douchbag, with a reputation that surpasses the devil?"

He frowns.

Contrary to popular belief, Billy Hargrove is very self aware, and very self conscious about himself, his actions, and his self worth.

He doesn't like being an asshole but it's all he knows.

He low-key is afraid of growing up to be like his father.

Even though he has that nagging voice in the back of his mind that's telling him he's already as bad as his dad, if not worse.

He hides it all under a mask of confidence, booze, and cigarettes.

It still doesn't make his actions okay.

You snap him out of his thoughts.

"What?"

"I said my parents are out of town."

Now that he's in your room you noticed that Billy looked shaken up.

Billy Fucking Hargove, for once didn't have a scratch on him, but he looked like hell.

You question him.

It takes a while but he finally answers.

His dad got pissed at him because Max wasn't home, and he came hoping she would be here so he could drag her home.

You convince him to let you come along, because he is pissed and you know how he can get.

He caves and lets you tag along.

The next stop was Lucas' House.

Neither Max nore her son were there, but she said the kids all loved to go to Mike's house to play games.

Next stop is the Wheelers residence.

You dont know what's being said between Mrs. Wheeler and Billy, but knowing Billy and being able to read his body language- well. It takes everything in you to refrain from rolling your eyes and honking his horn (though you fail at not rolling your eyes).

I mean come on you guys are looking for Max, this is not the time to be flirting.

Fuck he went in.

You audibly groan and contemplate jacking his car to go look for his sister yourself, unfortunately he has the keys and you dont know how to hotwire a car.

Finally, he's out.

You forgive him because he comes out with a cookie in his mouth and has another one in his hand, which he gives to you.

"Hell, yes!!"

What?

Who the hell turns down food? And cookies at that. Home made cookies. And they're fresh.

Last stop was the the Byers house.

Fuck, Steve is there.

"Stay in the car."

"What? No!" Like hell you were going to let him beat up your friend.

"Stay in the fucking car!"

Steve seems both angry and hurt when he notices that you're in Billy's car.

You can't really hear what's being said, it's all muffled.

You panic a bit when Billy shoved Steve and you worry they'll start fighting.

"Shit!"

You burst out the car when you see Billy storming for the door, but stop to help Steve.

"Why the hell are you driving around with him?"

"He came to my place first, looking for Max and I offered to help him. What'd you say to piss him off?"

Steve gets mad, thinking your taking his side, and for the second time that night you find yourself rolling your eyes. "Why did you tell him you didn't know her? I tutor Max and her friends, and you babysit her friends, and you and I hang out, of course you would know her?"

You both stop arguing when you here a loud crash from inside the house.

"Damn it!" "Shit!"

You both walk in just in time to hear Billy threaten Lucas.

Fucking excuse you, Billy???

Steve decks him across the face, Billy taunts him, and this time an actual fight breaks out.

You try your best to get them both to stop fighting, but neither of them will listen to you, the voice of reason.

When Billy has Steve pinned to the floor and keeps punching him over and over again you finally get physical.

You tackle Billy off him while he's oblivious to his surroundings and use your hands and knees to pin his arms to the ground.

"What the fuck is your problem, Billy?!"

You've never seen him look at you so angrily, probably because he feels a bit betrayed.

He somehow manages to roll you both over so now your stuck underneath him.

You flinch when he draws his fist back like he's going to hit you, but the next thing you know- there's a syringe sticking out the side of his neck.

"Holy shit!"

He gets up to go after Max, but promptly falls.

Your a bit shocked by Max's outburst.

Now her, you have never seen that angry before.

When they leave, you stay behind to look after Billy and move him to couch

He isn't happy when he wakes up.

He's actually really fucking pissed.

But he's still a little groggy from sleep and the drug (mostly the drug) so it's funny.

Help this child, he thought he was getting off the couch normally, but turns out he just rolled off and onto the floor face first.

Your freaking out and laughing all at once.

Slurred, "What the fuck's so funny?!?"

He needs aspirin and water like a hangover.

He falls asleep again after you get him back onto the couch, and you fall asleep on the floor propped up against the couch in a sitting position.

You don't wake up till the kids get back (Max wakes you up).

The both of you manage to get Billy to his car. He still asleep like a log.

You go to your place, and they spend the night - Max was worried their dad would be even more angry if they woke him up, and even more so if he caught you helping Billy and Max into the house.

The next morning was very #Domestic.

With You waking up to find Max already up and looking through your cabinets for food.

Suprise, you end up making breakfast for everyone!

Max wanted chocolate chip pancakes, so chocolate chip pancakes she shall get.

No suprise, Billy wakes up while you both are making the sausages and bacon.

Full plate of eggs, bacon and sausage, and pancakes for everyone! Yay! 😀

Honestly the best morning the two of them have had for a while, but you won't catch either of them saying that outloud.

Max leaves to hang out with the others.

Billy still seems mad about the previous night.

"What, are you going to pout all morning? All day?"

"I dont pout."

"Oh I'm sorry, what would you prefer to call it- sulking? Brooding? Plotting my death?"

He tries to hide a snicker and lightly shoves you.

Going back to school the following Monday felt weird after everything that happened over the weekend.

You tried asking Steve what was up with all the drawings in Will's house, but he wouldn't budge.

Of course you tried asking Nancy and Jonathan too, but they acted like they didn't know anything.

The next few weeks were full of practice tests and prep assignments for finals.

You saw Billy less and less because you were hitting the books.

Sure he knew you were probably in the library, but after that weekend he wasn't sure how to go about interacting with you, or if he should do so anymore at all.

He kinda feels like you picked Steve over him.

He pops buy on Wednesday and almost gives you a heart attack. He's not surprised that you've been working yourself ragged, and your not surprised he hasn't even touched a text book (let's be honest, Billy doesn't strike me at the type of person to take notes in class, just pull out a pencil and paper to look like he's interested and go about his day).

Your freaking out, because finals but he doesn't flinch because you're like the smartest person he knows.

"Oh c'mon," he's managed to take your precious notes away, "You'll be fine, you're only stressing yourself out."

"Billy, I need those!"

"No you don't," He starts acting like he's reading the notes outloud, but he's getting the facts and formulas all wrong.

You correct him several times, and have actually started to chase him around the library.

Finally he closes the book after your sure you must have chased him around at least twice, "See, I told you. You don't need to study, you know this shit."

You both got kicked out of the library, again.

Billy is banned, but the librarian gives you one last chance...starting tomorrow.

You sigh in defeat, "Alright you proved your point, now give me my notebook back."

You reach for it.

"Nah," He raises it above his head so you can't reach it. Asshole.

Tommy and Carol show up and they think he's picking on you.

Neither of you sees them.

Tommy manages to snag the notebook, gives you an obnoxious laugh when you reach for it, and tosses it to Carol

"Give it back, shit face," Your mood went from playful to pissed in point zero seconds.

"What are you going to do about it, Heinz?"

Lord help you, you're about to throw hands again.

Billy snatches the book back and hands it to you, before looking at Tommy and Carol with a very stern expression.

"You idiots got anything better to do, huh?" He takes a few steps towards Tommy and for every step he takes, Tommy backs away.

Carol is distracted, which allows you to snatch your notebook back. She reaches for it again but you slap her hand away.

The message was very clear for them, so they take their leave and retreat back to wherever they came from.

Billy has lunch with you and manages to get you to skip the rest of school with him.

You don't want to miss during dead week, but the whole fiasco during your study period in the Library got you thinking- you need a break.

You also don't want the absent strike.

"You're such a goodie-two-shoes."

Peer pressure sucks.

You convince him to give you 30 minutes after the late bell rings to show up.

You go to class, set up your desk, the late bell rings, teacher calls role and marks you present. 7 minutes have passed.

You feign being ill.

It really wasn't hard. You just acted more tired than normal, threw in a couple "I have to stop what I'm doing because I have a headache," gestures. You even put your head down for a minute. You sit in the front so your body language is easy to pick up on and the teacher allows you to go to the nurses office when you ask. 12 minutes have passed.

When you get to the nurses office you throw the pass on the desk and storm into the private bathroom - closing the door behind you, before forcing yourself to dry heave. 27 minutes have passed.

You convince the nurse that it must be something you ate that's making you sick.

She gives you a pass and let's your teachers know you're sick and have gone home.

You meet Billy outside the school 30 minutes on the dot, he's surprised you actually came, and even more surprised that you lied well enough to get the teachers to excuse you for the rest of the day.

Of course you're upset when you see Tommy and Carol in the back seat, but you just roll your eyes and brush it off before climbing in shot gun.

Tommy and Carol are mocking you before you even get in.

"We didn't know the, mutt was coming along."

"How nice of you to bring something to entertain us, Billy."

Your looking at Billy through the corner of your eyes as he starts the car.

He waves you off, "Dont mind them."

You have no idea where you're going, or how long it will take so you pull out a book to read.

Before you can even open it, Carol snatches it from you, "What's the Nerd reading?!"

You roll your eyes again.

Tommy snatches it from the red head, "Stephan King. Christine."

"What's it?" Carol pipes up again, "Sappy romance novel?!"

"Wow, you both are actually uncultured, " you snatch the book away from Tommmy, "I'm impressed," and keep it out of his reach by out stretching your arm towards the dash, "Did it take all three of your brain cells to read that?"

Tommy tries to get his hands on you now, but you smack them away.

"Alright, alright!"

The three of you look surprised at Billy, "If you two don't quit your shit," he looks to the rearview mirror, "I'm kicking you out."

The rest of your ride was uneventful.

You arrive at Tommy's house.

His parents are also out of town.

But he lives in a large house with a pool and bar.

They're having an end of the year party and whoops you got dragged along.

You hadn't planned to be doing this with your time so you resort to studying more, much to Billy's behest, and Tommy and Carol's attempts to distract you.

You sit outside on a lawn chair next to the pool while they get everything prepped for the night.

Not much happens till it starts turning dark out, Billy calls you for help with something and when you leave you don't notice Carol and Tommy going for your stuff.

You can imagine your suprise when you find you stuff had been emptied into the pool.

Notebooks, text books, pencils, pens, erasers, even the book you were trying to read on the way.

You look up when you hear Carol laughing as she rounds the pool in your direction, and you see Tommy throw your bag in the pool.

"Are you fucking serious? What are you twelve?!"

Before you can react, Carol shoves you into the pool.

"And that's how you get a book worm to swim!"

You somehow manage to keep your cool, gathering your stuff and putting them on the edge of the pool away from Tommy and Carol. Though you didn't know why you bother, you can tell the ink is smeared and the pencil is faded now, only thing possibly salvageable was your pencils and your reading book, but even that was debatable.

You climb out and sit at the edge.

You feel physically uncomfortable

Your clothing is sticking to you.

And it's basically summer already so the air is hot and a little damp. You look up to see Billy storming out of the house.

"What the hell is going on?!"

"Relax, Billy, we were all just having a little fun, right?" Tommy looks at you like you're afraid of him so you're going to agree with him.

Yeah, no.

"Fuck off," you chuck your biggest text book at him.

None of them knew how well a text book could fly till it hits Tommy in the gut.

Go you! Bonus points for nailing him with the corner.

Your trying to wring the bottom of your clothes out when Tommy comes up from behind you and tries to grab you by the back of your head.

"Hey!" Billy is quickly making his way over to the both of you.

Carol tries to stop him, but she is poetically shoved to the side and subsequently falls into the pool.

You manage to elbow Tommy in the balls but the pain only makes him hold on harder.

"You little-"

He doesn't get to finish because he's promptly punched in the side of the face. You quickly back away from the edge incase Carol gets anymore funny ideas.

Billy helps you up and ushers you into the house.

"Sorry..." He sounds awkward, "About them."

You look at him with a deadpan expression, "Billy Hargrove, apologizing," you sigh with attitude, "pinch me. I must be dreaming."

He grits his jaw, "Don't you start being a smart ass with me- it's them who keep giving you crap!" He started raising his voice.

"Yeah, yet you still keep them around," you make your way over to the sink to keep wringing out your shirt and shoulder check him on the way, "Honestly, I don't even know why you keep them around- at least you have your reasons for being an asshole." You take off your shirt -much to Billy's suprise- so you can properly get rid of the water. Let's face it, a soaked shirt sticking to you like a second skin doesn't leave much to the imagination anyways, "Reasons," you turn to look at him for emphasis, "Not excuses," you turn back to the sink, "but understandable reasons nonetheless." You lay your shirt out flat on the kitchen's large counter to air dry (it's too dark and humid outside for it to dry any better outside anyways), "But they're just assholes because....because...." You sputter and shake your head, "I don't know, probably because they know they won't ever amount to anything better in their lives, so they figure they might as well tear down as many people as they can on their way to fucking nowhere."

You turn and look at him with an aggravated huff and cross your arms. Unfortunately Carol and Tommy walk in at that moment.

"You trashy mutt!"

"Stupid whore!"

"You really think, Billy's that desprit?!"

For a second you were confused. Then you remembered you didn't have a shirt on.

You roll your eyes again before throwing your still wet shirt back on.

"And what the hell Billy?! You really gonna' side with this half-breed?!"

Fuck this.

Fuck Carol.

Fuck Tommy.

And you know what? If this doesn't change, fuck Billy too. You dont need or deserve this.

You storm out the back door, gathering your things and shoving them in your dripping bag before walking around the side towards the front. Billy quickly runs out the front door to meet you outside.

"I'll take you home."

"No."

Billy calls your name and he almost sounds tired.

His tone is what makes you pause and turn around.

"Please."

You raise a brow and swallow your pride as well as your snarky comments, "Fine."

The party commences and goes on without the both of you.

Billy isn't quite sure what he enjoys more, being out and partying or enjoying a relaxing evening indoors, heavens knows he can't relax at home.

Max surprises the both of you by stopping by to visit.

The three of you hang out in your living room flipping through channels and eating popcorn.

Billy eats the least pop corn out off the three of you and opted to have some carrots and grapes less than half way through the first movie.

Billy is totally a health buff.

"Are Carol and Tommy really that bad?" Max mistakenly asked about your day.

"They have absolutely no redeeming qualities."

Max doesn't hide how she shoots a glance at her brother, 'And that fool does?' Is basically what her expression asked.

Billy glares at her from the couch opposite to hers and bites a carrot like it's her head.

You're covering your laughter with your hand.

From now on all my Imagines will be tagged by their titles, series, and parts! Hopefully this will make it easier to find a specific imagine if your looking for it. For example, anything relating to this series is tagged with "impossible", the series itself is tagged as "impossible series" and each individual part is tagged as "impossible pt.[1/2/3/etc.]"

Another example: part one is tagged as "impossible pt.1"

[themutantunderground]

Take My Hand Ch. 1

Ahh, so, HQ will probably get discovered in the series at some point, but up until now in this AU, they've managed to keep the bank HQ hidden. But I love creating drama so yeah, HQ is getting raided. The Thunderblink kids JD and Hope are 8 and 4 in this one, and the Eclaris kiddo, Aurora, is 9. And it's multichaptered, so woo-hoo! Thanks, @bisexualblink, for letting me headcanon about this family so often!

Ao3 | FF.net

It was a siren sound that woke up Clarice, tearing through her dreams and making her sit straight up in bed, her skin crawling in protest. The noise filled the room, the volume increasing each second. It had to be Amp since no one else in the HQ could take a sound and manipulate it like that, giving it a slightly unnatural edge.

Clarice winced and automatically reached over, ready to clap her hands over John's ears, knowing that the noise would be too much for him. He might be physically invincible but having enhanced senses was actually a weakness in moments like this. But the other side of the bed was empty, reminding her that John was out on a supply run.

Her mind stumbled into action, and she slid out of bed. If Amp was using the siren, that meant HQ was under attack or would be very soon. She had to get the kids out of there, meet up with John, run. They needed to get as far away from HQ as possible.

They had known that it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. It had been too many years, even with all of the precautions and measures they took to keep the location a secret. Too many people knew about the HQ, and besides, Sentinel Services was getting smarter and pulling in more mutants for its program. Some decided to work for Sentinel Services willingly, whether for money or protection, while others were arrested and stuck in the Hound Program. It went without saying that Sentinel Services would eventually find the right combination of mutants to uncover the location of the Atlanta underground headquarters.

But Clarice had always thought there would be some sort of warning. That they would know through the scanners or one of Hope's premonition dreams or John's ability, that something would give them a heads up before their lives were turned upside down.

And she had always imagined John being there.

Clarice ripped open a portal to her daughter's room and leaped inside, looking around for her little four-year-old. Hope cowered in the corner of her room, holding her hands to her pointed ears. When she saw her mom, she jumped to her feet and raced over, her long dark purple and blue hair looking wild, just like her brown eyes. "Too loud!" she yelled, though the siren almost drowned her out.

Clarice picked her up and looked around, searching for a jacket, a coat, a – She snatched a hoodie off the floor and grabbed Hope's boots, hastily dressing the girl before clawing another portal into the air, one-handed, as she held Hope on her hip. This time she stepped into her son's bedroom.

JD was up and dragging on a coat, his sneakers already on. He looked up at her with huge green eyes, the same bright color as her own. He knew what was going on, that their lives were about to change.

Clarice was reaching for him when the siren sound abruptly stopped and gunfire cracked through the silence. That's when the screaming began. Hope gasped and buried her face in Clarice's neck while JD rushed to her side, grabbing onto her loose pajama t-shirt. Light green energy, as pale as JD's eyes, glowed around his fingers and wrists, his powers activating.

"Where's Dad?"

"He'll meet us soon," she said, hoping that was true. There was always the chance that Sentinel Services had… No, no, she couldn't think about that. John would meet them. He would be there or she would find him. There wasn't another option.

Clarice tore another portal into the air, this one opening into the cold winter forest near the HQ. There wasn't any snow, but it was still barely above freezing and none of them were really dressed for the weather. Still, it was far better than staying where they were. A muffled explosion boomed toward the entrance to HQ and Clarice hurried through the portal, JD following her. It shut behind them, taking the panic of headquarters with it.

Taking a deep breath of the sharp air, Clarice set Hope down and looked back in the direction of HQ. It was too bright, too lit up, and she knew that Sentinel Services had brought in floodlights. Overhead, a helicopter roared over the old bank, and Clarice shoved her kids down into a hollow. There was a hole in a nearby tree and she rushed up to it, yanking out the pieced-together sheet of old leaf-like ghillie suits. It had been John's idea, a leftover from his Marines days.

Hurrying back to the kids, Clarice bent down at the edge of the hollow. There was another explosion in the direction of the HQ and then arcs of energy burned through the air, massive and terrifying. The underground was fighting back, but really they all needed to run. And while Clarice wanted to take the kids and go, she knew she had to go back and try to get a few more people out and find John on the off chance he had already gotten back to HQ. The kids would be safe for a few precious minutes that might let her find him.

"I have to go—"

"No," JD said, staring up at her, "Mom, no, please, you can't—"

"Hey, I'll be right back," Clarice said. She reached down and brushed her hand over JD's messy black hair before bending over and hastily kissing Hope's forehead. "Look out for your sister, JD. Do not move from this spot unless you absolutely have to. Got it? I'll only be gone for a few minutes."

JD nodded and pulled Hope to him. The four-year-old was crying, tears rolling down her cheeks, and Clarice had to resist hugging her. She tossed the ghillie blanket over the kids and ran back toward the HQ, tearing open a portal when she was away from her children. She stepped into the computer room of HQ to find Sage and Shatter breaking everything in sight.

"Have you heard from John?" she demanded even as she grabbed one of the computers and smashed it. They had to destroy everything that could give the Sentinel Services the info they had gathered or any ideas about other HQ locations or safe houses.

"I texted him and Harry," Sage said, "So they know."

"And how close is Sentinel Services to getting in?"

"About three minutes and twenty four seconds," Sage answered quickly, "There's too many for us, we have a 94.5 percent likelihood for failure and losing everyone who's still in the building once they get in. You should get the kids and go, Clarice."

"Already did that," she said, trying ignore the goosebumps raising on her skin. Those were awful odds. "I'm going for Marcos and Lorna."

"Lorna's not going to want to leave," Shatter said, glancing over at Clarice.

Clarice made a face. "No shit." She already knew that Lorna was going to be all fury and rage and vengeance. Hopefully Marcos would be able to convince her to leave or at least drag her through a portal. "Sage, you guys need to go too." Out of all of them, Sage had the most information stored in her head.

"Yeah, I'm working on it. I'll go in a minute."

"I'll make sure she gets out," Shatter said.

Clarice nodded and headed downstairs, not using a portal. It didn't take her long to find Marcos and Lorna. They were ushering people out of the building through one of the actual tunnels that led out of the building. Their daughter Aurora was hiding behind Lorna.

"Guys, time to go," Clarice said, "We're outnumbered here."

"We just need a few more minutes," Lorna said, her teeth gritted.

"Well, guess what, that's all Sage says we have," Clarice said, "Here, take the rest of them out this way, and hurry." She grabbed at space and pulled open another portal, this one leading to another spot in the woods far away from HQ. The amount of portals she had created in such a short span of time was getting to her, she could feel them weighing on her, but she pushed through. People ran through the portal, dashing into the quiet black night in the forest.

"We'll call you, set up a place to meet," Marcos said as he grabbed Aurora. The blue-haired little girl was shaking as Marcos met Clarice's eyes. "You and John and the kids stay safe, hear me?"

"Gotcha, sunshine," Clarice grunted, "Now get out of here."

Lorna's eyes were dangerous as she looked at Clarice. "We'll get them back for this."

"Go already, Lorna," Clarice said, "We can do the revenge thing later."

Once that group was out, another explosion rocked the HQ, and she knew that this was the one that finally broke the defenses. Clarice ran, pulling open a portal and launching herself through it, back to the hiding spot where she left the kids. She stumbled out of the portal and strong hands caught her, keeping her on her feet. The touch was familiar and welcome.

"Are you hurt? Clarice, are you okay?" John's calloused hands traveled quickly over her face, her arms, her sides, searching for injuries. She snagged his wrists and stilled him.

"I'm fine, I'm good," she said, fighting back the threatening exhaustion.

"Don't portal anymore. We'll go on foot," he said.

She didn't even wonder how he had found them so quickly. Of course he had. "I can do this, John."

He looked at her searchingly and then nodded, not arguing anymore. Which was one of the many reasons why she loved him.

Overhead, the helicopter was making sweeps of the forest, searchlights wavering from its underbelly. As it came toward them, John pressed Clarice against a tree trunk, covering her, his arms over her head. He was already wearing dark clothes, the kind he always wore when they were out making illegal supply runs, so he blended better into the forest than her and her silky pajama pants and old t-shirt. For a second, John's forehead rested against the top of her head, his breath brushing through her hair.

The helicopter passed over them, and Clarice sighed. John pulled off his coat and put it around her shoulders before he walked over to the hollow and pulled the blanket off of the kids. They both scrambled to their feet, their pjs covered in decaying leaves and dirt.

"Dad!" JD cried, but John gently shushed him. JD latched onto John's side, getting in a quick hug before he darted over to Clarice. "You okay, Mom?"

"Yeah," she said, pulling him to her.

Hope raced into John's arms, and he picked her up, cuddling her for a moment before he walked back to Clarice and JD. He tossed the ghillie blanket over his shoulder, which told Clarice he thought they might need it again. His free hand grabbed hers, and he ran his thumb over the back of her hand before letting go, giving her the chance to drag a portal into existence.

They didn't say anything as they fled through the portal, John leading the way and leaving their home behind.

[shadowkat678]

Those are all options, and at least here I haven't really seen any that do more than my studies have. Teach the topic you're learning so you know what you need for the job. Every job has on the job training. My cousin is a electronic engineer and had on the job training.

And no, that is absolutely not equality to treat uneducated men and women like shit. That's classism. If a man is a wife abuser, you treat him like shit because he's a wife abuser. Not because he didn't get a chance to go to college, can't find a job in an extremely competitive area, and wasn't born into money, and the same for women. Equality is judging someone based on their actions and words and personality, instead of their sexuality, gender, race, disabilities or lack thereof, and so on.

I think you're also forgetting that we need words AND actions, and that I've already stated that yes, it is worse where you are. That does not make any pain cased by bad things here irrelevant. Those women you spoke of acted AND talked. They spoke their mind as well as showed through what they did. They informed and educated. Activism isn't just whining in the USA and western countries. Do some do it? Yes. Is that all? No.

That's WHY I choose liberal arts and Global Studies. So I could get a job acting. To help be educated about global issues as well as those close to home. I know, if I've not experienced, what you've talked about, and myself and many others want to work with communities abroad and in our countries to change things. From this one degree you can go into law, you can teach, you can go into multinational buisness, you can do nonprofit, you can work with refuge communities, and more. It can be personalized for what you want and what you're passionate about. I don't want those other fields because I don't want to work in those. I don't think I've met someone in my classes who isn't using this in hopes to get a job, and this is something that opens far more pathways than more rigid majors.

Not to mention a lot of people, including in the majors you listed, don't even get jobs in their field anyway. The Bachelor Degrees show employers you can learn. That's pretty much it. Get higher and it matters more, but most don't and wouldn't need to.

And I don't think you understand much about our system. My mom and nan did do crafts, but the disability laws only allow you to make so much before you're cut off from aid, and that amount is miniscule here. Besides that there were doctor's bills. They were both often sick. They had to do anything locally through friends helping spred the word because niether one really knew how to use a computer.

I don't think movies are a good source to cite, but yes. I know about the issues being brought up currently.

Yes, usually that's how it goes with girls and boys in poverty and I'm not suprised, or have or will argue, that. Have you thought, however, that there's only so many of those scholarships? What about the rest? You can't just teach them and go, expecting them all to pull themselves out, though education is always the first step. The cycle of poverty also needs to address structural inequality. There are more poor than rich. That 20% is absolutely miniscule. That would lead up to less than 1% of the total poor population of children in your country, without doing the math for the lesser exact percentage.

There are a lot of hurtles when it comes to "the common man" in this, yes. However, that's one of the issues trying to be addressed. The way voting takes place at times that hurts poor people who can't afford to miss work. The way a lot of people affected by issues trying to be changed have extra hurdles making it hard to fight back.

Like I said, the movement isn't just screaming about politics, and people saying that already have made an error. Again, are there plenty that do? Yes. But many more, and that's increasing, are working to fix things as WELL as talking. We know, especially those most affected, that talking isn't enough. That's why you'll hear so much about intersectionality in social rights, because of how many privileged feminists and LGBT+ activists etc seem to forget how complex the reality is, and how many people they don't consider when they talk about issues. Upper middle class white abled straight women telling people to just do what they want and do this and do that and say these things, while ignoring the reality of harm could come to other women who try, because they don't have the same privilege. When other women are exposed to more risk for standing, and while those are important risks to take to move foward, they're not something to brush aside.

Those who stood at Standing Rock against oil companies ended up against extreme police brutality, getting drenched in water in freezing temperatures, being physically attacked, and still watched sacred land be taken from them. Women with families can't just up and leave their children, especially poor single mothers working multiple jobs at minimum pay who also can't afford to go back to school because they're living paycheck to paycheck to keep their kids fed. LGBT+ people can't openly go to support causes when they have family that could kick them out and leave them homeless, or be open to abuse. Disabled people have to worry about accessibility to go and attend protests and events. There are real physical dangers involved here. In 2018.

There are complexities and nuances to what happens you can't judge just by watching people on Tumblr. Many of us do both. Many of us are fighting. Many of us are being hurt for fighting. Stop gatekeeping the idea of who is or is not dealing with oppression based on your own limited experience. You have not seen our fight anymore than I've first hand seen yours. People are still dying every year due to hate crimes. Women still face abuse and unequal employment opportunities even in jobs you mentioned. Women still have higher risks of rape. You do not get to dictate the validity of another person's struggles.

it is tiring, being endless political just as someone existing. my teacher asks me if i’m writing more of that “feminist poetry.” a lot of it is just talking about me, being a woman, being afraid in the city. i write about walking a line, about how i am expected to choose between home and work, how each comes with a slew of its own insults; how it feels when i am wearing shorts and there are too many men outside. these are just facts of my life. someone in the comments says, “where are woman even coming up with these crazy generalizations in their feminism?”

i hold hands with the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen and someone sighs when they see me. “do they have to make everything gay?” she asks her friend, loudly, “like, do you have to force those views in my face all the time?” i can’t stop blushing. my girlfriend holds my fingers tighter, tighter, tighter, until my knuckles are white, and i let her. somehow, this is us, protesting.

my father’s cuban blood stains my skin, i think. when i am honored with a position in the dean’s private council, a boy sneers, “you only got in because you’re hispanic.” did i? i spend the rest of our meetings wondering if i was selected for my stellar academic record, for the multiple recommendations, for the clubs i lead - or if i was just a move the dean made, to make use of me. when we all take a picture, the dean brings me in the front. in the first three we take, i am not smiling.

it is odd. “i exist.” i say, “i deserve to exist.”

“oh my god,” he groans, “we get it, you’re a feminist.”

[obfuscobble]

Passerby here - in regards to Fate/Grand Order, the reason they don't explain stuff in detail is because they kind of already did? The Fuyuki prologue in the actual mobile game is a longer, more in-depth tutorial, while the anime is an hour-long film. They can't do EVERYTHING in the short time slot they have. Also, the "explanation on Servants" thing is something repeated in every adaption and spinoff and just gets very redundant after a while, so it getting cut is understandable.

Also, arguing that they HAVE to explain EVERYTHING for newbies within the short 1 hour time slot for the F/GO anime is nonsensical considering the setting of Fuyuki - everything and everyone in Fuyuki (such as the statue Medusa Lancer destroys) only has significance if you’re familiar with Fate/stay night proper, and explaining EVERYTHING would waste time, especially since the premise of “Chaldea has no idea what originally happened in Fuyuki” makes explanation impossible anyway. Basically, you’re treating the Fate/Grand Order anime like some sort of standalone story, when in reality it’s more like the Rogue One to Fate/stay night’s mainline Star Wars, or the Fantastic Beasts to Harry Potter. Even if it’s a spinoff, demanding that it explain everything all over again is pointless and would detract from the plot given the very limited timespan, especially when the premise IS so heavily based in past installments. I hope you understand my points here.

I perfectly understand your points, but please keep in mind that you are making the exact same points as your predecessor which I have already rebuffed politely by reiterating my points of debate.  I thank you for trying to state this case in more detail again, but my counter points remain solid and admittedly mired in my initial reactions to the material.  The strength of my initial negative reactions is what prompted me to write my post, and upon re-view of the film, my problems with its structure, choreography, and colour design remain.

If I may attempt to restate your points, trying hard not to make a strawman : 1. there’s more info on everything in the game, 2. there’s more explanation of everything in the rest of the Nasuverse media, 3. this is for fans who already know everything and trying to explain too much in a short one hour featurette would be wasteful, 4. this should absolutely not be viewed in a standalone manner.

1. there’s more info on everything in the gameI understand this.  But the movie was, as I was approaching it, supposed to get me pumped to play the game had I not already done so.  It did not.

2. there’s more explanation of everything in the rest of the Nasuverse mediaI understand this.  But it doesn’t defend against bad story structure.

3. this is for fans who already know everything and trying to explain too much in a short one hour featurette would be wastefulI contend this.  Allow me to voice my contention in two manners, one polite, and one rude.Politely: Fans who enjoy this are absolutely deserving of their enjoyment, and as a fan placation vehicle this movie is certainly fantastic.  I do not want to rid anyone of their enjoyment of this featurette.  People should hold on to their joy where they can find it. : )  However, I still believe that a shortened running length was not truly a bar to cut out all explanation.  I’m not expecting someone to dump typemoon.wikia.com onscreen.  I was simply stating that within the world that the movie itself created with a protagonist who knows nothing and a fresh new aspect of the Nasuverse being presented, that a tiiiny bit more explanation would have been completely natural to present within the storytelling framework of the brand new setting.  To fully explain Servant structure and the history of Fuyuki is not necessary.  To explain more about Chaldaea and how it interacts with these structures is highly desirable.  That Fuyuki is a mystery to Chaldaea is absolutely fine and a good mystery to hook the audience.  That Chaldaea remains a complete mystery to the audience, apart from clichés that the audience can place upon it through inference, is unforgivable.Rudely: yeah I get it they made a pretty movie out of your waifus look at your waifus in good animation happy new year nasufans here’s a tv special to sell more nasushit including 5000 yen dvds but it’s worth it because WOW YOUR WAIFU she’s moving and going UGUU this is such a CATHARTIC pandering MOMENT you can’t wait to heal her with YOUR MAGIC RITUAL YA KNOW WHAT IM SAYIN[* “your waifu“ in this case referring to the fandom at large, not you specifically, holdharmonysacred, as I do not wish to make assumptions about you.]

4. this should absolutely not be viewed in a standalone manner.You bring up a comparison of Fate/ Grand Order to Rogue One and Fantastic Beasts.  Here is where I very much would like to make more comparisons, as I have seen those movies and their attendant series as well!  However, first it is important to keep in mind that whether one chooses to view a film as a standalone vehicle or as a chapter of a larger narrative is up to the individual viewer.  Yet, ask any good author or script editor and they will tell you that the internal story of a feature should hold itself as a standalone story with good arc structure.  While it’s true that Grand Order had a proper arc structure (problem, mysterious anomaly; action, fight to stop anomaly; resolution, bad guy temporarily wins, time to steel ourselves to do this again), I feel that it failed to present a story that an outsider could care about.

Honestly, Rogue One also failed to impress me as a standalone vehicle.  It was infinitely more pandering than Grand Order, although at least it didn’t leave too many questions unanswered.  Largely, it had more running time to establish its world, which Grand Order did not have.  What Rogue One had in common with Grand Order was a dearth of likeable protagonists.   At least the motivations of Rogue One’s antagonists are clear though, unlike R.E.O. Lev’s.

Fantastic Beasts actually worked as a standalone film.  Parts of it that connected directly to the Potter storyline [erhem, Grindelwald] were frankly its worst aspects.  Yet apart from that, the movie clearly established through its action and a bit of exposition the stakes of its world.  There are wizards and magical beasts and non-wizards, the wizards try to hide from the non-wizards, never the twin shall meet, and in America magical beasts are not allowed to run free in non-wizard areas.  The audience doesn’t have to know about rulings of the wizengamot or the history of wizarding in America to appreciate these in-story rules.  Magic is shown throughout the movie, and major magical plot points like the obscurial are explained, though not exactly perfectly.  But a bully attempt is made.  One can watch Fantastic Beasts without knowledge of the Potterverse and still follow its structure while appreciating its characters who are presented with definite emotional ties and stakes in the movie.  It’s not an outstanding movie, but it does very well to establish the basics of its world.

On the other hand, I maintain that Fate/ Grand Order failed to firmly establish the very basic internal rules that its world runs by either through exposition or onscreen action, preferring to hint at them, and that its characters were flat, especially the main character who could have been replaced with a soggy cardboard cutout for all it would have mattered. 

I understand that the main character of this movie is supposed to be an audience insert surrogate, and a standin for an in-game protagonist, but that’s honestly no excuse for having him be void of emotional reaction to anything in the world around him except Mash.  Mash is hurt?  Oh noes, she’s pretty and talked to me so I guess we’re dating and now I’m upset.  I’ve been transported to some techno-magic base? Oh well.  Everyone else here has died en masse?  Oh well.  Now I’m in the past and things are attacking me?  Oh well.  That girl just died? Oh well.  The guy who was nice to me turns out to be evil and he has some weird plan to do with wiping out the entire human race?  OH WELL.  I’m not asking for him to scream or anything, but the most proactive action he took in the entire movie to move the plot forward was to hold Mash’s hand in her climactic battle, and even then he did so blandly, not even a “ganbatte” or a “You mean a lot to me so don’t give up.”  Every other scene where he took an action, he had stumbled into that place or been pushed there by other characters or the plot at large.  The guy fell asleep during the one scene that would have explained shit to him and therefore us.  How are we supposed to like him as a protagonist?

In conclusion, I do indeed understand the points you laid out in your asks, but feel that I have previously responded to most of them.  Of the new concerns you bring up, my previous complaints about Fate/ Grand Order still hold sway.  And yet, I do not at all wish to say that people should feel bad for liking Fate/ Grand Order.  My stance is that I did not enjoy it, and it failed the rubric by which I was watching it.  You state that my rubric is flawed, and that is a fair enough criticism.  Please continue to enjoy the Fate/ universe and the Grand Order game.  I hope they all bring you lots of continued enjoyment in the coming year!