#i have answered asks related to donations because a lot of people were facing problems i think you may have become confused with that

[kaalbela]

You once said you had a way to donate abroad and we can send you the money. Is that still on. I only have 200 rupees as of now.

Huh?! I have never said that?

If you are donating to PCRF or to individual fundraisers via Gofundme, you just have to have your ATM card enabled for international transactions. You should be able to do it from the bank's customer portal website. If that doesn't work I'm sure if you visit your branch the people there will be able to help you.

[crispycrimebrulee]

🎄25 Days of HXH: Day 3: Knuckle x Wishes🎄

A/N: The song listed is from my favorite Christmas movie, The Polar Express. For some reason it makes me super emotional.

The snow crunched under your feet, occasionally kicking up thin ice sheets that had frosted over the snow, cracking and popping beneath your steps. Stooping down, you wiggled your fingers under the thin sheet, gently tugging a chunk loose. Turning to Knuckle, you handed it to him, watching him gently take it and tap it, only for a piece to crack off and fall, much to his slight dismay. He then stooped down as well, attempting to take a new chunk like you’d done moments earlier. He managed to take one and gingerly placed it in your hands. He looked proud of himself for obtaining a sizable chunk, grinning at you. You popped it between your thumbs, placing the broken pieces over each other and continuously popping them until you had tiny glass like bits in your hands, letting them fall into the snow. Taking Knuckles hand, you continued on through the park, admiring the winter wonderland while it was still here. Believe by Josh Groban

Taglist:  @to-move-on-means-to-grow​ @lifescreams27​ @twistedsmth​ @some-weeb-chick​ @dukinaxael​ @errorpeachy​ @demon-hugger​ @my-child-gaara​ @absolute-flaming-trash​ @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes​ 

Knuckle had asked you to accompany him to the park, embarrassed by Shoot teasing him about wanting to admire the park in its snowy, Christmas decorations, including teasing about being so excited about the Christmas season. In truth, Knuckle rarely got to do anything fun that was Christmas related. It wasn’t because he was working, but because he’s never worked up the courage to go and see things himself. Between Shoot teasing him about his secret affinity for Christmas and genuinely feeling silly to have such a child like feeling towards it, he shied away from participating in the season, other than purchasing gifts for his friends. His family rarely did anything fantastic for the season either, despite him being so enthralled by all the lights and the spectacle of it all. He’d always watched from a distance, and he’d only mentioned a snippet of that revelation and fact to you, causing you to nearly lose your mind, him not having done so much as make a snow angel or make cookies. There was so much more to Christmas than gifts.

Seeing Knuckle quietly mess around with the snow, attempting to make a perfect snowball, hitting the icicles off the tree branches or simply making tons of snow fall from the trees was quite the sight, because the simplest things seemed to spark something in him. Knuckle had made another snowball, walking towards a tree just before chucking the snowball at it.

That was quite the mistake on his part.

The snow from the branches came crashing down, landing on top of him.

You doubled over in laughter as you made your way over to help him as he slowly got up, looking dazed and slightly cold. You brushed snow off his hair and shoulders, taking care to gently rub his rosy cheeks, trying to make sure his face didn’t get too cold.

“You were too close, sweetheart” you laughed, taking care to gently rub snow from his lashes.

“I didn’t think I was that close…” Knuckled looked up, finally taking note of the branches directly above him. 

“Are you alright though? Did any snow get in your jacket?” checking him over, trying to sweep snow out of the hood on his jacket.

“A little bit, but I’m alright, thank you.” Knuckle reassured, blushing at you fussing over him. 

Continuing on with him in the park, you arrived at the center, an open ice skating rink filled with people, mostly couples, skating away in small circles, holding each other. Glances at Knuckle, he was completely taken by this, his eyes flashing from couple to couple, watching them hold each other and their movements, slightly in sync as they would keep each other from falling...or falling all over each other. 

You giggled, for every time you caught him admiring something, his eyes would glow, that special glow that’s only found when something strikes a chord in someone's heart, setting their soul on fire. 

“Do you want to go ice skating some time, Knuckle?” you nudged him, gesturing to the couples on the rink.

“We don’t have to, I was just watching-” he had panic and embarrassment in his voice, peeling his eyes away from the rink.

“You don’t have to be shy about it. If you want to go, we can go!” you said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I would rather not force you, y/n…” looking away from you as he began fiddling with his hair gently.

“I’d love to go with you, Knuckle. It’s not a problem.”

His eyes met yours, full of excitement as he grinned. He nodded with such enthusiasm and force, you were afraid he’d hurt his neck.

You squeezed his hand and kept walking as he went back to absently watch the people on the rink.

“I’ve never been ice skating before, although I doubt I’ll be good at it.” Knuckle mused, letting out a nervous huff.

“Well that’s alright! I still get to spend time with you, so it works out!” poking his cheek, looking at him.

He gasped a little, his cheeks burning red with your casual statement. 

“Thank you, y/n...for all this!” he waved his hand around, gesturing to the trees and snow.

“For...the...park?” you asked, tilting your head.

“No for doing all this with me. I’ve wanted to do stuff like this for so long but…” he trailed off, his eyes suddenly looking distant. 

“Of course I’d do this with you. Why wouldn’t I?” looking at him, trying to read him. 

“Because I’m too old…?” sounding more like a question than an answer. 

You squinted at him, absolutely incredulous. Too old? Too old? Was there an age limit on Christmas activities?

“What does that even mean?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“You know...all the Christmas stuff. I was younger and I always wanted to do it, but I never got the chance.” his eyes looked glazed over as he was lost in thought, lost in memories of dreams long forgotten. “I wished a whole lot that I’d get to do it eventually but I just got older, and people told me I’m too old and...yeah.” 

“Knuckle, honey.”

“Yeah?”

“You aren’t even 30 yet. Even then, that doesn’t stop you from enjoying Christmas.” you rubbed his knuckles gently, your heart melting from seeing the look in his eyes. It was a lonely look, a look deprived of a joy that everyone should feel at least once in their life. 

“I know! I still want to do it! I do! But it feels so silly sometimes, so childish.” his voice sounded angry, on the edge of falling apart. 

You moved your hand to his back, quietly rubbing it as you spoke.

“It’s not childish, it’s different. It’s…special. A Christmas thing, really...I don’t know how to explain but you’ll get it…”

Knuckle sighed, looking distant as he quietly kicked at the snow, nudging the ice sheets with the tip of his boot. He didn’t answer you, just kept walking, his eyes still somber.

“I’m taking you out tonight, Knuckle.” you said, planning something quietly. Whether or not it would work, you had no idea. 

“Eh? Where?!” he looked at you, excited again, forgetting the previous conversation. 

“Can’t tell you that silly. It’s a surprise~” laughing at him as he pouted.

You squeeze his arm, and he pokes and prods at you, trying to get the surprise out of you. For the rest of the walk, all he did was try to figure out just where you were taking him later.

Later that night, around 8pm, you told Knuckle to get ready, since it was time to bring him out again for his surprise. Hearing that, he nearly hurt himself in excitement putting his jacket and scarf on, his questions flying out a mile a minute, once again trying to figure it out. 

Once you were ready, you laced your fingers in his and walked out into the streets, making your way to the city.

Upon entering the city, Knuckle couldn’t hide his pure awe, taking in the city. Cities with skyscrapers and busy streets always had a starstruck type appeal during Christmas. The lights on display in a city were always dazzling, the city holding no punches in putting on a show with the lights and decorations. Cities always had an extra air of love and giving during the holiday season, its inhabitants carrying the atmosphere from person to person. Little pop up shops and carolers were on every corner, so a surprise would be always somewhere for you to find. Knuckles eyes couldn’t stay in one place, flitting from one scene to the next, a smile making its way to his lips, and you could see him falling in love with the city Christmas scene. 

Gently tugging at him, you pointed out little things to him, like the horse drawn carriage (which he gushed about for 20 minutes, begging you to please go with him, to which of course, you obliged because, how could you not?), and to a little shop on the corner of a street, to which he sheepishly bought a Christmas hat (claiming it was for Morel). You both stopped again after some time to get hot chocolate with a candy cane, which sent Knuckle into a tizzy about mixing hot cocoa with a candy cane, how it was smart and delicious all at the same time. He placed a donation in a donation bucket, absolutely falling apart at the thought of people suffering at a time like this, and in general, but especially during the holidays. Eventually, the two of you got to your destination.

Knuckle was speechless.

You’d brought him to a wishing tree, a giant Christmas tree in the center of the city, and it reached the height of some of the office buildings surrounding it, suggesting it to be hundreds of feet tall. As scary as the height of this tree was, it was the decorations that’d clearly caught Knuckle’s eyes. The lights and ornaments traveled up the entire tree, stopping at a massive star on the top, sparkling and glowing. There were gifts beneath the tree as well, hundreds if not thousands of boxes. There was a glow in Knuckle’s eyes as well, completely taken by the sight of this tree. 

“This tree is…” clearly none of the words he was thinking of couldn’t fit, as he fell into a smile, grinning from ear to ear as he shuffled up to the tree, taking a better look at it. 

His brows furrowed, running his fingers over a small envelope stuck to the tree. He flipped it over only to find that it’s sealed with a small stamp as he ran his fingers over it. He inspected a few more, finding the same thing continuously. 

“What’re all these cards for?” he turned to you, holding up a card.

“It’s a wishing tree!” walking over to him, gazing at the tree. “You write your wish on a card and seal it, put it on the tree and it comes true!”

Knuckle’s eyes lit up again as he took note of the hundreds of cards all over the tree.

“Can...can I write one…?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“Of course, hun. That’s why I brought you here. I figured you’d get to make your wishes come true.” you smiled at him as he stared at you. 

He blinked and immediately flushed red, hiding his face in his scarf.

Walking over to a small table, he took a card as you followed suit, taking a card as well. You scribbled something, thinking about a good wish. Finishing, you looked at Knuckle, his face deep in concentration as he slowly wrote out a wish, clearly taking this to heart. Handing it to the person at the table, they sealed it and stuck it to the tree, waving to you as you walked off. 

Stopping in front of the tree again, you nudged Knuckle.

“Sooooooo what’d ya wriiiiiiiiiiite?” poking at his side.

“I can’t tell you that!” he pouted, squinting at you, “It won’t come true if I tell you!”

“Can I get a hint?” asking again, batting your lashes at him.

“No way!” turning his nose up. However, he glanced at you, pursed his lips and sighed. 

“You’re on the card…” he muttered, seeming upset with himself for giving you a hint.

“You wished...for me?

“No! Well, sort of, but that’s all you’re getting.” his resolve is strong, looking at you. 

You stopped and stood in front of him, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling him turn to putty in your arms. A soft kiss, gentle and warm, with a hint of sweet peppermint from earlier. You attempted to pull away but he pulled you back, his lips feeling desperate, wanting you closer for longer. 

You finally pulled away, letting your gaze slowly meet his, his eyes hazy and soft. 

He spoke first, his voice low and sweet.

“That Christmas feeling...you told me about…”

“Yeah?” you nodded slowly, wondering if he truly got it.

“Yeah.” he nodded in return, making you smile.

You took his hand, continuing your adventure through the city.

And it’s this feeling, the feeling of your heart swelling, full of an emotion that really has no name. A feeling of Christmas that’s universal in the hearts of children and those with love left to give. The feeling when the city’s lights look particularly beautiful, dazzlingly bright, only second to the sparkle of pure awe in the eyes of those that still dream. The feeling of waking up late one morning, seeing the world graced by fresh snow, sparkling in the late morning sun and being unable to keep a smile from gracing your face, overwhelmed with excitement in anticipation to play in the snow with friends. Maybe it’s the feeling of happiness in baking cookies with those you love, stealing bits of cookie dough, only to be far more enraptured by fresh baked cookies and hot chocolate, adding just a bit too many marshmallows to the mix. It could be singing your favorite Christmas songs with friends, letting them take you back to Christmas’ that have passed, memories nearly long forgotten, only to bubble to the surface listening to overplayed Christmas classics. Is it the scents of Christmas? Peppermint and myrrh, frankincense or the smell of sugar cookies and cozy, sweet aromas floating around, making you hungry yet in need of a good nap. Everyone will say the feeling of Christmas, the emotions of it all is caused by something different, and there is no universal correct answer, only the agreement that the feeling exists and that it’s powerful. The feeling of dreamers, believers and those with hearts full of hope, hope that refuses to die. The feeling of being young, innocent and full of life, still awestruck by the wonders of the world that are so large and staggering to those who can still believe in magic. And sure, the feeling fades away after New Years, the realities of life slowly crawling back, shaking the feeling of hope and wonder from hearts that truly need it. Maybe that’s a blessing of the Christmas season, reminding people that hope and wonder and love still exists. 

[blindbeta]

Hi! First off, I'd like to say your blog has been an amazing resource and thank you for all the feedback you've given people. I'm writing a sci-fi/fantasy story and one of the protagonists is blind due to having no eyes. They are not human and the "no eyes" thing is not considered normal for their species. Their parents are well-meaning but horribly ableist to the point of funding a corrupt research facility in exchange for a possible "cure". I wanted to use this because I think it helps illustrate an aspect of their people's culture that needs to change as well as the desperation, misguided as it may be, to "help" a loved one, which is a theme that comes up later. However, looking at it again, I'm not sure how appropriate that is, given how damaging real life ableism is and how I am not disabled myself. I was also wondering what your thoughts are related to the kind of blind jokes where the joke has more to do with someone else forgetting the blind character can't see, like in Avatar

Blind Character With No Eyes, a Bit of Info on Prosthetic Eyes, Ableist Parents Who Want a Cure, and Possible Blind Jokes

Hi anon! Thanks for your question. I have helped someone with a similar question before, so I’ll use some of the same resources and if you need more help, feel free to ask.

I’m not sure how I feel about the no eyes thing. Personally I would prefer to see prosthetic eyes used in media more. If this character was born with no eyes, it might be okay, but generally the loss of eyes can affect the bone structure of the face. So, with that in mind, I assume this would also be a risk of being born with no eyes. Depending on the type of creature this character is, you might be able to deal with this if you account for it in the narrative. At the very least, they might have a ‘comforter’ put in to support the structure of their face.

Since this character is not human, it is up to you. If you go the prosthetic eyes route, you can make it more relatable for blind readers, especially because prosthetic eyes are uncommon in sci-fi creatures. I don’t have a prosthetic eye myself, but here is an FAQ about the process of getting a prosthetic eye. These fake eyes do cost a lot, but if the character’s parents fund a research facility, I don’t think it would be a problem. Joy Ross also has videos of her prosthetic eyes on YouTube. Her channel was suggested to me by a follower I helped with some prosthetic eye research.

As always, I suggest having at least one other blind character at minimum.

If you decide to continue with the no eyes thing, I would advise researching animals born with no eyes and seeing what happened with them. You might be able to research humans as well, but I don’t know how human-like your character is. You can also research how to write changes in bone structure due to a lack of eyes. If you don’t, the lack of changes should be explained somehow in the story. If you go this route, I would suggest adding more blind characters aside from the main character. My suggestion is at least two other blind characters with different kinds of blindness, but if you can add more, that would help.

As for the cure part, I like the focus on ableism and the ableism in wanting a cure for their blind child. I think it is a nice contrast to the prevalent cure narrative. It could also possibly help readers see how common and upsetting this can be, how wanting a cure when your child doesn’t tells them they aren’t accepted as they are and that their bodily autonomy is not respected as it should be. I will say that this is a very sensitive subject in real life and will require not only nuance, but also a few sensitivity readers. @sensitivityreaders should be useful.

This type of parenting is surprisingly common even if it takes different forms. It can be unwanted religious healing, discouraging blind kids from using a cane or reading Braille, assuming the child wants to be cured, limiting what the child is allowed to attempt, and surgeries. I have experience with many of these myself from different areas of my life, although not as much from my parents.

The sensitive part comes in with how you portray the parents. They should be relatable, but still portrayed as in the wrong. Because even loving their child does not mean they cannot be ableist, especially because their society, like ours, wouldn’t tell them they are wrong. The cure narrative is so prevalent that non-disabled people think it’s okay because they would want a cure for their disability if they had one. The reality is that, unless it causes them pain, many people with physical disabilities do not wish for a cure. A cure may even be impossible or painful for them and hoping for one might decrease their chances of getting aids they need or managing their disability or condition in a way that works best for them.

For example, would the parents discourage the character from using a cane while they wait for this cure? And is there even a cure for such a condition? There certainly isn’t one in real life.

As for if you should continue with the parental ableism plot, I’m not sure. Part of me thinks you could pull it off if you have a lot of sensitivity readers (with as many blind readers as possible). I also think having a few blind characters with supportive, accepting parents would be helpful. I also feel like it might be one of those stories I really like it if it is portrayed well. It isn’t that I think non-blind people shouldn’t write such a thing, but this is also one of those times where I don’t know what the wider community thinks either. And this could go badly if not handled well.

However, we also don’t see this type of story as often, with the cure being portrayed as obviously bad. With parents who are otherwise loving being portrayed as ableist because they want to cure their child. Something that is normally portrayed as a good thing by writers who don’t know what they’re doing.

I would suggest avoiding parents being otherwise abusive, forcing or coercing the character into surgeries, and otherwise taking away any of their bodily autonomy. This has real life consequences and I know I don’t want to read about it from the point of view of someone who has never experienced it. I also don’t want to see the character face unnecessarily physical altercations or violence or medical trauma.

I personally would feel better if this was just an emotional or mental thing. I don’t want to see the character get hurt or be forced into anything. It sounds like you aren’t planning on anything like that, but I wanted to share all my thoughts just in case they are helpful to you or anyone who is reading. I would also feel better if, after publishing this and being paid, you were able to donate a bit of your author rates to organizations for blind people in your country. Assuming you are going that route. If not, you could simply share some helpful links along with your story, both resources and educational links for people who aren’t disabled.

If you decide to write this plot, I’m going to say it should be fine for me personally as long as you also have sensitivity readers and have other blind characters (more than one extra) who has non-ableist parents.

In terms of the extra blind characters, here is my thinking so you have it all together. You need:

-at least 1 other blind character at minimum to avoid tokenism, if you don’t have 1 already.

-if you go with the no eyes thing, at least 2 other blind characters who have eyes.

-if you go with the prosthetic eyes, at least 1 other blind character.

-at least 2 other blind characters with accepting, supportive parents who aren’t ableist

That is the minimum. I always encourage as many blind characters as you would like to include.

Back to the parents plot. I wish I could give you a straight answer. Unfortunately I’m not sure myself. I would like to open this to any blind or otherwise disabled people who would like to share their thoughts on a non-disabled person writing a plot such as this. Should they write this or should it be more ownvoices? What might help you feel better about this if they decided to do it?

As for the jokes, I would proceed with caution. I thought they worked well in Avatar, but that was a specific situation and in real life those kinds of jokes can sometimes be cruel. To be fair, the characters always made it a point to apologize to Toph in the show. In real life, some of the jokes or reprimands I get are about how I should see something because it is right in front of my face. This can be embarrassing for me.

Can it be done well? Yes. Do I want to see everyone attempt it? No.

I wouldn’t mind if the blind character made some jokes themselves, but I would keep these to a minimum.

However, if you would really like to include a joke or two, you can always run them by a few sensitivity readers and see how they read. Some jokes might do well in specific situations and some might not. Jokes are pretty easy to edit in and out, so, as you write, I suggest making note of the joke and running it by sensitivity readers.

Here’s a post on blind jokes. It can be one of those things where if it works, it works. If it doesn’t, it can stand out in a bad way and even seem cruel or uninformed if it isn’t called out as such. I don’t know if this will help, but here is another post I made, although this is about strangers who haven’t met blind people or have and still don’t know much about them, but make jokes anyway.

So, to wrap this up, I’ll leave you with this. Some of the information here isn’t as concrete as you may have liked. I can’t give you an answer for some of it. But if you are open to listening, that will show. Having a lot of different blind characters can help with almost any trope with a few exceptions, and getting multiple sensitivity readers will also help.

Good luck on planning your project!

-BlindBeta

[teamhook]

FFN

AO3

Hello all! This story was written for the lovely amazing @searchingwardrobes today is her birthday. Happy Birthday!! woohoo I had to do this because she has gifted a lot of us with an amazing birthday story. Love you sweetheart!!

Story beta-ed by @ultraluckycatnd

Killian walks inside Granny's and goes straight to the counter. He sits down and orders coffee, black no sugar, his attention turning to the door. He has no idea who he is looking for. The older woman hands the coffee cup to him. "Ma'am, I was wondering if you could be of assistance. I'm looking for Emma."

The older woman narrows her eyes. "Emma Nolan?"

Killian smiles. "Is that her surname?"

"What do you want with Emma?" Granny crosses her arms.

Killian scoffs defensively. "Nothing nefarious, I just want to clear up a misunderstanding."

The woman, Granny, nods and walks away to the back.

Killian purses his lips at the lack of answer and takes a drink of his coffee. He starts looking around the diner. He wonders if his mum sat on the same chair he is currently occupying. He chuckles to himself.

"What's so funny, man?" A voice to his right startles him.

Killian turns his attention to the voice and tilts his head. "Hello, mate. Killian Jones, at your service." He extends his hand.

The younger man extends his hand hesitantly. "Nice to meet you, man. Leo Nolan."

Killian smiles. "Leo Nolan, any relation to Emma Nolan?"

"What kind of trouble has my sister gotten into this time?" Leo asks and mutters under his breath, "Not that I'd mind after meeting you."

"No trouble, just a bit of misunderstanding. To be honest it's not a big deal. My brother has no sense of humor. That's the real problem," Killian insists.

"That doesn't answer the question."

"Alright, she sent a compromising letter. At least in my brother's opinion. A letter without an addressed name attached that my brother immediately assumed belonged to me. So here I am to put an "end" to it."

Leo looks down. "I'm sorry, I'm sure she didn't mean to cause any trouble."

Killian sighs. "In a way I'm thankful. See, my mother was from here but we never got to see her beginnings. It's a bit of a treat to know that my mother walked the same corridors at Our Lady of the Lake College."

Leo mutters something about a Legacy. "My mother went to the same place as does my troublemaker sister."

"To be honest, I'm here more out of curiosity. I was tempted to spend the week in New York and then fly back home and tell my brother the issue was resolved but I remembered Mum was from here so here I am. Trying to get to know my mother better and find your elusive sister. I was told she would be here."

"She was here; she left right before you got here," Leo says, shrugging.

"Ah, could you perhaps arrange a meeting? Inform her she's not in trouble?" Killian asks with a twinkle in his eye.

"I shall talk to her. Are you staying here?"

"Aye, I am."

"If my sister can get over her embarrassment when I tell her why you are here and wants to meet you, I'll leave a message for you with Granny."

"I accept, lad. It was nice meeting you. I'm still a little jet-lagged, so if you'll excuse me. Goodnight," Killian says as he turned to go inside the Inn.

A stern voice makes Leo jump. "What are you playing at Emma?"

Emma winced.

Killian walks inside his room and snorts a laugh. His instincts tell him that he needs to see this through. Whatever it was that brought him to town was important and he knows that it will change his life. He still didn't know if it was about his mother or something else. What he did know was that the lad was a part of it.

Granny had that look on her face. The one they all feared.

Emma sighs. "Granny, it's nothing bad. I was just trying to figure out if he was here to cause trouble or not."

"Emma, the only trouble maker I see is you. Do you mind enlightening me about why you told him you were Leo Nolan, your brother? If memory serves me, there are only three Nolan children: James, David, and you. There's no Leo. Think carefully about what you're about to say to me."

"Granny, okay." Emma taps the top of the counter. "Some days back, I might have sent a letter with my name and it seems his older brother has no sense of humor. And you know that because you heard it with your wolf-like hearing." She shrugs. "It was a mistake and well, he flew out here and Granny, he is kinda hot and I didn't think I just reacted. I mean, we wanted to make sure my dressing like a guy would work for the production at school. It just happened. The words didn't want to come out of me. Hey sorry about causing you so much trouble with that letter. I was daydreaming and by the way, you have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen."

Granny smirks. "Isn't this interesting. Emma Nolan speechless around a handsome man."

Emma rolls her eyes. "Don't worry, I will come clean. Eventually."

"Well, you don't have that much time. He only booked the room for a week." Granny grabs some dirty dishes and walks into the kitchen.

Emma sighs. She should go upstairs and confess. It was a mistake and he was nice enough. Okay, she will apologize to him, but as herself, not as her brother.

Killian stands at his room's window looking out at the view. He likes the town. His phone rings until it goes to voicemail. He doesn't feel like reporting to Liam just yet. What was he going to say, sorry brother but the lovely Emma has eluded me so far? The phone begins to ring again. Killian rolls his eyes. It appears Liam will not be giving up until he talks to him. Killian looks at his phone's screen. Bloody hell. It was Milah. He winces and just answers. "Milah, love-" Before he could continue, he was interrupted.

"Killian, what the hell are you doing in Maine? You're supposed to be here helping me plan the wedding and you didn't even tell me you were leaving the country!" Milah complains.

"Love, it was a sudden trip." Killian tries to calm her.

Milah stays quiet. "Killian, you said that you would take me with you on your next trip."

"Milah, darling. This trip is partly business but it is also to the town my mother was from. I didn't think you would like to accompany me to a small town in America." Killian tries to appease her. She could be volatile if she didn't like the answer.

She sighs. "When are you coming back?"

He can hear the pout in her voice. "I shall return in a week or so."

They end their call with a half-hearted 'I love you'.

Emma goes home and changes from her Leo persona's clothes. She really tries not to think too much about the reason why she put on her favorite dark jeans, the ones that made her butt look great, a thin red sweater that made her feel sexy, and black knee-high boots.

Emma walks into the Inn and squares her shoulders. She walks to the check-in desk and walks around to get the guy's room number. She finds the ledger and looks for the name he gave Leo. Killian Jones. Room 204. She smiles; it's the one with a view. She looks at the reception phone and opts to just go upstairs to get it over with. She didn't feel like been scolded by Granny again.

She knocks on the door lightly and looks around the hall. A few minutes pass with no answer. He had said he would stick around for a few days. She looks at her watch for the time. It was still early.

Maybe this is a sign that she is crazy and she decides to leave. Emma sneaks out as easily as she snuck inside.

The disappointment she feels is a lot. She wants to meet him, be herself, and the thoughts that swirl in her mind are not her own. She has obviously been around MM too much for goodness sake. She used the name that MM had told her she would use for her first son with David.

Killian had left to go sightseeing for a while. The truth was he was feeling cooped up in the tiny room while waiting for Emma Nolan to make her appearance. He was making his way back to the Inn when a flash of golden hair caught his attention. He pauses for a second as he takes her in. Bloody hell, he really shouldn't be noticing other women, but he couldn't help fall victim to the enchantment the woman had clearly placed upon him. He followed her from a distance, and she was oblivious to his presence.

He grins as he notices how freely she gave genuine smiles to the town's people that happily greeted her. He was still too far away to listen to how they addressed her, but he was truly entranced by her.

His thoughts race to Milah; she was a beautiful woman for sure, but she was not exactly a people person. She could be cold and unwilling to grant a simple smile unless she was forced. His brother didn't understand the relationship, but had encouraged him to finally give up his bachelor ways. Killian had enjoyed his life as a single man thoroughly and would not miss out on anything except for one thing; true love. He was ready to accept that perhaps that wasn't in the cards for him. He could settle for the relationship he shared with Milah. She was a good match; she was from a good family, and a union between them could solidify the business. People married for less.

The next day, Emma goes to school and she is pulled aside by Silv.

"Emma, you had a visitor yesterday," Silv informs her.

"Uhm, I did? I don't remember seeing anyone." Emma quirks a brow.

"No, no there was a man looking for you, but you know Miss Blue and her rules. She sent him away and he was unhappy. He even mentioned stopping the donations in the name of his mother, Alice Rogers-Jones. That caused Miss Blue to be upset all day. I don't know if we can fix it, but the money we receive from her estate is the most generous one." Silv worries her bottom lip.

"Oh, so maybe I shouldn't go to class today. I know how Miss Blue gets. She is going to make my day miserable, isn't she?" Emma sighs.

"I don't know, but chances are high. Oh, and Emma, Alice Rogers was close friends with your mother. Maybe you can find a way to use that to get Mr. Jones to reconsider stopping donations. He seemed to be reconnecting with his dead mother since he's been in town," Silv suggests.

Emma pinches the bridge of her nose. "Alright, I will see what I can do. I guess I better go." Emma smiles at Silv and leaves campus.

Emma enters Granny's as Ruby is about to leave. "Hey Ems, have you seen that hottie staying here?" Ruby winks.

Emma sighs. "Is Mr. Hottie here?"

Ruby thinks for a moment. "Nope, I saw him leaving to go for a run. At least that's what it looked like from what he was wearing. That's when I noticed him. I had heard the girls talking about him. Mr. dark-hair, sexy accent, and eyes to die for, but how do you know him?"

"I don't know him, Ruby."

"You just asked if he was here and you should be on campus already. Shit, I'm going to be late," Ruby whines.

"Damn it, I guess I can try later. I wanted to avoid Miss Blue. Come on, let's go." Emma puts her arm around Ruby.

On the drive, Emma explains what had happened. She leaves out some details because Ruby couldn't stop laughing at her.

Emma's day is filled with dread waiting for Miss Blue to call her to her office and lecture her, but it never happens. Astrid explains she was not feeling well. Small miracles.

Killian is about to cross the street to Granny's when he sees the blonde from the other day leaving the diner with Granny's granddaughter. He winces, he had heard the old lady yell at her a couple of times already. He tries to hurry to get a better look at the blonde, there is something familiar. Maybe it's the way she carries herself. He scratches behind his ear. The thought is preposterous; he has not even met her, but yet... Bloody hell, he feels like such a wanker. He's acting like a creep. His eyes linger on her without his permission.

He enters the Diner and sits down in a booth near the door. His eyes gaze out the window.

"Hello, I'm Ashley and I will be your waitress today," Ashley introduces herself.

Killian smiles. "Hello, I'll just have some scrambled eggs, toast, and a banana if you have it. Orange juice and a glass of water as well."

She smiles and walks away.

Killian finishes his breakfast and goes up the stairs to his room to shower. He's about to finish getting ready when his phone rings. Killian grimaces when he sees the caller ID with a photo of his brother pop up. "Hello brother. How may I help you today?"

"Killian, I need you to come back home, now! Your betrothed has been harassing me nonstop. Please brother for all that is holy, come home and make her stop. She calls me constantly to complain, and it's always the same question. 'Why did I send you away on business?'" Liam sighs. "Why did you tell her it was a business matter?"

Killian laughs. "I'm sorry Liam, was I supposed to tell her I left town because a letter that wasn't addressed to any one caused my older brother to have a hissy fit? That you sent me away to fix it? You're a big boy, deal with it."

"Kill-" That's all Liam manages to say.

Killian smiles big as he disconnected the call. He looks out the window. Should he go to the marina? He finishes getting dressed and grabs his wallet, opting to leave his phone in the room. He doesn't want to deal with Liam.

Emma is supposed to meet the girls to practice at MM's house, but she has been nervous all day so she figures she should apologize to Jones first. She's in front of room 204 once again, takes a deep breath, and knocks. She waits, no answer. She shakes her head. Maybe he went to eat or take a walk. What else can he be doing in town? She waits one second just to be safe but no answer.

Another lost opportunity and her time to come clean was coming to an end soon.

Emma rushes out to meet the girls for practice. They had decided to practice at Mary Margaret's house since they wanted to surprise Miss Blue. Emma arrives just in time to change to Leo and start.

Killian finds Blanchard Farmers Market not far from the fish market by the harbor. The smell of the sea had called him to the pier and he inevitably became hungry from walking all day. He was pleased they served fish and chips like back home. He enjoyed his meal and left, eventually finding the Blanchard Farmers Market. The fruit and vegetables look delicious. He opts for some crisp apples and sweet oranges to keep in his room at the Inn. He wonders if he will ever see his friend "Leo" again, or if said friend had passed on his message; he hadn't received any indication the elusive Emma had contacted him. With a shrug, he heads back to the Inn before he goes looking for his friend. He wonders if he can ask Granny for the address or the phone number of the Nolans, but decides to find someone else for the information and use her as a last resort.

He had tried using his cellphone internet, but the town is as if it is trapped in the nineteen eighties for the most part. Killian approaches a rotund man at Granny's. "Excuse me, Sir?" Killian asks with a smile.

The man looks back at Killian with a scowl. "What is it? Can't you see I'm enjoying my food?" the man all but growls.

Killian mutters under his breath, So much for small-town hospitality. "I'm sorry to bother you. Could you direct me to the Nolans' home?

The man laughs. "Did Emma get a hold of you?"

He sighs. "Look, we all love her, but she makes idiots of the men she gets involved with." He shakes his head.

Killian quirks a brow. "No, actually I made acquaintance with her brother. We didn't exchange information, unfortunately."

"Hmm, all right." The grumpy man knows how friendly one of the Nolan twins is, so he takes out a small notepad from his shirt's pocket and scribbles on it, handing the paper to him.

Killian takes the paper and smiles. "Thanks, mate."

"The name is Leroy," he grumbles.

"Ah, to show my appreciation for your kindness, how about I pay for your meal?" Killian asks.

"Thank you. I appreciate it," Leroy says begrudgingly as he begins eating again.

Killian arrives at the address quickly. He notices a group of men arguing outside the house. He approaches slowly and tries to go unnoticed until he hears the subject of their conversation.

Jefferson says, "She's an artist, why would she want to be with anyone who would suffocate her creative side?"

August chimes in with, "I've known her the longest, what better partner than a friend?"

Graham scoffs. "Emma needs someone who will show her adventure and is experienced."

Killian can't help but scratch behind his ear as he makes his way to the front door to knock.

"Excuse me," one of the men says from behind him.

Killian clears his throat as he turned to face the group of admirers.

"Are you here to see Emma?" the man with a slight accent asks.

Killian shakes his head. "No, I'm looking for her brother."

The group nods and the relief on their faces is evident.

"He's not here," the man says. "I'm Sheriff Humbert. Is there anything I can help you with?"

Killian shakes his head in disappointment. "No, thank you."

"Wait!" one of the other men shouts. "Please, help us settle a disagreement. See, we all think Emma should choose us to be with. I was wondering if an unbiased opinion would help clear this up for us."

Killian looks at the Sheriff. He is about his age, with the other two men being younger. "I'm sorry, but shouldn't it be her decision? I don't know the lass in question personally, but it should be her choice. When you know, you know," he says as he walks away, not wanting anything further to do with their argument.

The three men, not satisfied with his answer, begin bickering again almost immediately.

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[halothenthehorns]

TLTNL- THE LION AND THE SERPENT

Lily wished she had a whistle herself to get the boys attention sometimes, but finally she'd wrangled them all around one table which did nothing to cease their desire to talk about that room.

She even engaged in a few of their more reasonable questions, like speculation of what would happen if more than one person asked for different things of the room for something at the same time. Harry and his friends were all asking for a similar request, but would the room have two doors appear, combine the two requests as it did for the trio, or remain empty until one more solid thing was asked of. While no one had an actual answer for any of this, it was still fun to speculate. When the meal was over Lily happily nursed baby Harry and laid him down for a proper nap, and when she finally settled down to continue it took the boys a moment to realize she was reading without their even paying attention. It took James pleading with her to start over so they could all hear.

Harry felt as though he were carrying some kind of talisman inside his chest over the following two weeks.

"A worthy secret then," Sirius grinned for his old memories of feeling the same.

A secret that kept him smiling through Umbridge's useless lessons as he easily met her bulging eyes.

"A miracle I'm not sure I could share," Remus crinkled his nose.

The DA's magical ability only grew from their first meeting, Harry often reflecting on their progress while pretending to read the assigned text for his Defence class.

Lily was watching Harry preen with more pride than she'd yet seen, and it was for others accomplishments. She'd loved her son the moment he was born, and seeing him glow with pride at seeing others accomplishments after just a little bit of help from himself truly made her realize he may have found his own calling in this field.

  It became nearly impossible for their group to have a fixed schedule what with accompanying three separate Quidditch team practices and the paralleling weather, but this Harry supposed as a good thing. If anyone was watching them, it would be impossible to pin down a non existent schedule for their meetings.

"Indeed, unpredictability is always better," Sirius agreed enthusiastically.

Hermione even came up with a better method of communicating when these would occur by handing out fake Galleons at the end of their third meeting, causing Ron some excitement at first.

"Did he think she'd come into inheritance and was being generous, donating to a worthy cause?" James chuckled.

Lily shushed him and kept going curiously how a coin helped with this.

Hermione explained to the whole group about the numbers around the edge, normally just a serial number, but she'd designed them to all be exactly the same. When Harry changed his numbers, that would be the corresponding date of the next meeting, and the Protean charm she'd placed on them would make all of them change with his.

Lily finished with utter exasperation at herself for still being so impressed with Hermione. Doing a sixth year potion in her second year had been impressive enough, now Hermione was showing how advanced she was in Charms as well, was there any subject, anything she couldn't do without putting her mind to it?

The Marauders were just as impressed. They'd never thought they'd find anything more impressive than fifth years being able to pull off becoming animagus', but it was clear enough to them Hermione would have already been able to do this as well if she'd set her mind to it, and that meant far more to them than any grade she'd ever get.

Hermione was met with stunned silence from the DA, Terry Boot from Ravenclaw demanding how she could perform a Protean Charm, that was NEWT level magic, how come she wasn't in his house.

"We've all been wondering that since her first year," Remus rolled his eye.

"I suppose she asked the hat for Gryffindor, or Ravenclaw and got Gryffindor anyways?" Harry recalled a previous conversation about how the Marauders guessed people got put into houses.

"That would be our guess," Sirius agreed. "As far as I can tell, even after everything we've seen of her, she still seems to value intelligence over, well everything."

Harry said back in defense of his friend, "After the rules she's broken? The laws? I know Hermione puts much more value into our friendship than her grades ever could."

"That's not just a Gryffindor trait though, Ravenclaw's have strong bonds of friendship as well," Remus shrugged. "It's what the hat perceives as the way you'd learn best, and being brave enough to put up your opinion put her in with her lot."

James and Sirius exchanged an amused look but stopped arguing the point. Lily had kept her mouth shut because she'd never liked the idea of sorting at all. One particular Gryffindor coming to mind who most anyone would have called a Slytherin if they knew what he'd done, Lockhart was a blithering idiot, Zacharias Smith had already proven to be an arrogant little thing from the humble house, and her favorite teacher in school had been all the qualities Slytherin house prided itself on without turning into a Death Eater. She would never think of anyone as something just because of what house they were in.

Hermione agreed the Sorting Hat had seriously considered putting her into Ravenclaw,

"Why would she call me the Sorting Hat?" Sirius asked while ducking on instinct, though Remus only rolled his eyes that time.

but obviously she'd been put in Gryffindor instead. Then she kept focus, asking if everyone agreed on using the coins. There was no argument, and as they each took one and Harry examined his own, he told Hermione these reminded him of the Death Eater's marks, how Voldemort touched one and they all reacted.

"Maybe the Order should invest in something like this," James said as he thought it through. "These really can come in handy, so long as you don't lose them."

"Or accidentally sell them," Sirius chuckled.

"How do you know about meetings now?" Harry asked.

"Fawkes appears to us when we're alone with a note," Remus grinned. "How he always knows when to appear away from everyone I've only been able to guess at."

Hermione agreed she'd gotten the idea from that, but she'd seen this better than branding members.

"So much more deniability if you get caught with it," Lily said grimly.

Harry agreed he liked this better, only danger in these was a chance of spending them.

Ron said sullenly he wasn't worried about that, he didn't have another one to mix it up with.

They all winced hard for that line, wishing there was something they could say, knowing there wasn't.

DA meetings were put on hold two weeks before the first match as Angelina was demanding nightly practices. Tension between Gryffindor and Slytherin was always high, but was now turning into daily scuffles as well between the two houses. The teachers were trying to show they weren't taking sides, but Harry realized how much McGonagall cared about this game when she abstained from giving them homework in the week leading up to the match.

Sirius and James whooped with laughter at Harry's face as he got to partake in their old head of house's favor for her Quidditch team. Both of them were giddy with such excitement for finally getting another game they'd yet to complain about the fact they hadn't gotten this chapter.

When this announcement was met with stunned faces in class, she turned grim eyes to Harry and Ron and told them to use this extra time to train hard, she'd grown too accustomed to seeing the Cup in her office.

The other three joined in the laughter as well, all imagining how many times McGonagall had looked to that Cup and smirked.

Snape was no less obviously partisan;

"But that part's not unusual," James grumbled less harsh than normal because he was still grinning for his own head of house.

he had booked the Quidditch pitch for Slytherin practice so often that the Gryffindor's had difficulty getting on it to play.

"Wait, I thought you said the staff couldn't book the pitch for the team!" Harry yelped furiously.

"I, thought they couldn't," James's euphoria was instantly wiped clean in frustration. "At least, they used to not be able to, I can't imagine why Madam Hooch is letting him."

"I wouldn't even be that surprised if he was doing it around her noticing," Sirius grumbled in disgust.

He was also the worst in pretending no such fights ever took place, such as when Alicia Spinnet got put in the hospital wing because her hair was growing so thick and fast it was obscuring her eyes and mouth. Snape refused to punish the Slytherin who'd done it, despite the fourteen witnesses saying Bletchley had. He instead insisted the girl must have put a hair-thickening charm on herself and messed up.

Harry scowled in agitation that McGonagall hadn't been able to do anything either because the complaint had been set to Snape, though he didn't know why Alicia had done such a thing.

Lily saw red for a moment, hating this vile creature who continued to act like the very thing he'd hated as a child.

Harry still felt optimistic about their chances, as he'd never lost to Malfoy. Ron still wasn't up to Wood's old standards, but he performed very well when not under pressure. The problem turning out to be when he blundered once, he was far more likely to continue doing so.

"That is a really, really bad start," James muttered, bouncing in place as he tried to work on some advice in his head he'd offer Ron for that.

When he was on point though, Ron had shown off some spectacular saves, such as one memorable practice where he'd swung free from his broom and kicked the Quaffle so far away it went into the other team's hoop instead.

"Wow, sounds like Ron pulled off a Starfish and Stick," Sirius grinned for the talent.

The whole team had praised this, comparing it to the Irish International Keeper who'd performed this move. Fred and George had been so proud, they'd even seriously considered admitting Ron was related to them,

"I would never deny my relation to the Weasley's, it's one I'm actually proud of," Sirius grinned.

something they assured him they had been trying to deny for four years.

Lily tisked while the boys chuckled at the jab.

The closer the game approached though, the worse Ron continued to get. As Harry had been on the team for years now, he was well used to the buildup and resulting snide comments in the corridors, such as Pansy's whispered threat that Warrington was promising to knock Potter clear from his broom. Harry responded by laughing that Warrington's aim was so bad, he'd be more worried for the person next to him.

Harry grinned as it caused those around him to laugh as well, nothing pleased him more than watching them laugh, at least when he was in on the joke.

Ron however had yet to respond in kind, instead turning green at every insult, or else shaking so bad he'd likely drop whatever he was holding.

"And here I thought Ron always wanted attention," Remus sighed.

"Clearly not this kind," Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Well then this is a good lesson for him to learn, you don't just get one kind of attention," James said a little sourly.

The morning of the match dawned bright and cold.

James and Sirius groaned in unison they'd missed out on a Quidditch chapter, but both kept their mouths silent from complaint, for now.

Harry awoke to find Ron in bed, knees pressed to his chest, his eyes gazing at nothing. Harry insisted he'd loosen up as soon as he ate some breakfast.

"Food does seem to make him feel better usually," Remus agreed.

The Great Hall seemed noisier than usual with so many talking excitedly about one thing. As they passed the Slytherin table, they all jeered as usual, but many of them waved at Ron while pointing at tiny little silver crown badges they were wearing and then laughing.

"More scare tactics," James scoffed.

Harry could tell there was something written on the badges, but was walking too fast to get Ron away from them to read what.

"Maybe Umbridge approved some new club," Lily said without much care, though she'd already rather hear about that than spend another chapter on a game where her son was likely to be injured, so she supposed she should enjoy the boredom while it lasted.

They received a much more welcoming arrival by fellow Gryffindor's, but if possible Ron found the cheer more depressing as he sank into his seat as if it were his last meal.

"And all he's going to get is cereal, what a disappointment," Sirius chuckled.

Whispering hoarsely to Harry he'd been mental to think he could do this.

"He's being too hard on himself, the first game is always the hardest," James said with honest sympathy this time.

Harry said he'd be great, it was normal to be nervous, and reminded him of his brilliant save even Fred and George had admired.

"The highest praise that can be offered," Sirius grinned.

Ron turned miserable eyes on his best mate as he admitted that had been an accident, he'd almost fallen off and hadn't even realized the Quaffle had been coming towards him.

Remus couldn't help snorting in surprise even while the other three boys huffed in disappointment, James and Sirius at least thinking they never would have admitted that and instead Ron should have learned how he'd done that and practiced more.

Harry had to scramble a moment to recover from shock before saying a few more accidents like that and the game was made.

Remus and Lily started giggling this time while the old players chose to ignore them.

Ginny and Hermione arrived as Harry finished his own bowl of cereal, Ron watching the dregs as if seriously considering drowning himself in them.

"I've never considered drowning myself in milk," Sirius said with his head cocked to the side, this time ignoring altogether as Remus smacked him upside the head as he continued, "but that one's original at least."

They asked how he was doing, and when he didn't answer, Harry assured he was just nervous. Hermione said that was normal, she was always anxious before exams.

"Because bringing up homework right now is really the way to make him feel better," James scoffed.

They were called from behind, and turned to see Luna smiling at them with a peculiar item on her head, a life size lion's head hat.

Lily paused for a moment to take that one in while Sirius immediately clapped his hand to his forehead and cried, "how could I never have thought of that?!"

"Because you were on the team with me," James was grinning even as he rolled his eyes at Sirius, "why would you ever think to make something like that?"

"Because it's brilliant!" Sirius' grin kept stretching wider by the second the more he thought about this, before swatting Remus on the arm and demanding, "Moony, why didn't you ever think of this?!"

"I apologize," Remus said, and Harry couldn't tell how much sarcasm was in that.

She gestured to the hat as if they'd missed it while informing them she was supporting Gryffindor for this match.

"You think she has one for Ravenclaw?" James chuckled.

"I think Harry would have noticed before now if he'd ever played against Ravenclaw and a student was wearing an eagle on their head," Lily smiled.

She'd even magicked it to roar like a lion, demonstrating as much when she tapped her wand against it and the whole hall jumped from the noise.*

Sirius gave an exaggerated yawn at the idea as he watched Lily's cat lick itself, he'd never been afraid of a cat in his life. The lion head had been a cool idea to support his team, but the sound effect would have just made him laugh.

Luna asked if they liked it.

"Yes," Remus agreed at once. "I'm curious what she made it out of."

"I'm sorry I didn't ask," Harry said honestly.

Then continued on saying she'd wanted to recreate a serpent tail being eaten to represent Slytherin, but she hadn't the time.

"Now there's an excellent use of crafts!" James beamed, "I think I finally see why some kids wanted an art class."

"Well when Harry beats Slytherin and they have a slight chance at a rematch, Luna can put it on in the meantime," Sirius chuckled, both boys missing the pained look Harry got for imagining himself in the next game...

Then she gave Ron a good luck wave as she walked off.

The three Chasers came over to collect the boys, but Harry assured they'd be down soon, he still wanted Ron to have some breakfast.

"Remember your first match and how you were too nervous to eat," Lily reminded him, "I don't think it's going to work dear."

"Well we finally found the way to make Ron not want food," Remus muttered to Sirius.

After ten more minutes though, it was clear Ron wasn't having it, so Harry moved to get him out of the Great Hall. Hermione gave him a hurried whisper before he left not to let Ron see those Slytherin badges.

"Why?" All five muttered to themselves, trying to figure out what that had to do with anything.

Then she wished both boys good luck, before standing on tiptoe and giving Ron a kiss on the cheek. Ron now looked more bewildered than ever as he touched the place as they left the Great Hall.

"Oh, so she didn't kiss you on the cheek as well?" Sirius switched to snickering about this now.

"Here's hoping that puts Ron in a better mood," Remus said cheerfully.

"Or it might just distract him," James scolded much to his friends amusement, now remembering how he'd reacted when Lily kissed him before his last game.

He was now so distracted Harry had the chance to read a badge as he passed the table even while getting Ron outside quickly as possible, and saw the tiny words Weasley is our King.

"I'm confused," Sirius said slowly, knowing he was supposed to be angry but not sure at what yet.

Lily however kept reading while beaming, and it took the boys a minute to guess what she thought those were. Lily was probably hoping some of the Slytherin's were finally starting to show some equal support for both houses, and none of them were going to be the one to burst her bubble, though they were all thinking if it was anything like that Hermione wouldn't have told Harry not to let Ron see them. Lily was probably just discounting what Hermione thought they were though like she was to them.

Harry at once knew they weren't anything good as he led Ron outside. The frost covered grass crunched under their feet, the weak sun above making all visible without being cumbersome, and there was no wind.

"Sounds like perfect conditions," James said wistfully, he really was looking forward to a game soon that he could play in again.

Even when Harry pointed all these things out, Ron still seemed more distracted than anything, and this kept up even as they went into the locker rooms to change and Ron tried to put his uniform on backwards for several minutes before Alicia took pity on him.

"I don't see why they couldn't have been left like that," Remus couldn't help but poke fun just as he always did to his friends when they needed it whether Ron was here or not.

The crowd outside was already thundering into the stadiums as Angelina began telling them she'd only just gotten the final line-up for the Slytherin team.

"Typical of any team to hand that over last minute," James rolled his eyes.

Last year's Beaters had graduated, but the two new guys didn't look much different than the old gorillas, named Crabbe and Goyle.

"Wow, wondering if Malfoy got them the latest Nimbus models again to let his friends on the team," Sirius scoffed.

Harry said he knew them well enough, and they were of the same mold as the old dunces.

Angelina nodded, and then called them all to line up to head outside, wishing them all one last good luck.

"It sounds like they're going to need it," Remus couldn't help mutter.

A roar of noise greeted them from the cheering and booing of both sides, also what sounded oddly like singing.

James was starting to get a nervous feeling about that song the more it was mentioned, if it had anything to do with the Slytherin's he just couldn't hold out hope it would be a good thing.

The Slytherin's were lined up and waiting, Malfoy at once catching sight of Ron and tapping his badge while smirking.

Lily sighed deeply, any hope for her idea gone already if Malfoy was wearing one. Now she read on grimly, somehow looking forward to getting through this less every line.

Hooch instructed both captains to shake hands, and if Montague's tense frame was any indication, he was trying to crush Angelina's fingers, who never winced.

"Tough girl, it's not hard to see why Fred likes her," Sirius grinned. "Hey Harry, did her and Fred keep together after the Yule Ball?"

"I never asked them," Harry shrugged, "but I had seen George hanging around with Lee once or twice without Fred around, so maybe."

The fourteen players mounted their brooms, and the game began. Harry and Malfoy at once streaking to opposite ends of the field to find the lone gold snitch.

"Is he not going to try following you around with lame insults anymore?" James chuckled.

Commentation at once began with Johnson with the Quaffle,

"Honestly Lily, how can you read that sounding so bored," Sirius groaned as she read out for the commentator as if reading the morning paper.

Lily simply shrugged, but Remus suddenly wished Sirius hadn't said anything, as Lily continued if possible in an even more flat voice, much to both his friends annoyance.

he'd been saying for years how good she was and she should go out with him-

"Maybe I was wrong about Angelina and Fred though," Harry said good naturedly.

"Or the friends messing with one of the twins," Sirius brushed off, still glaring at Lily more every second as she tried to make her voice as monotone as possible.

but McGonagall finally cut in on Jordan and told him to focus. Lee agreed at once and went back to more details on the game, the Quaffle passing between Montague, then hit with a Bludger by a Weasley twin, then to Katie, Alicia and she was off for the Slytherin post-

"Alright, that's it," James made a lunge for the book, which Lily neatly dodged and kept the book close to her chest, now full blown grinning at her husband.

"What, I'm not allowed to have a bit of fun?"

"This is the opposite of fun woman!" Sirius groaned. "I've never heard someone be so dull about a sport in my life."

Lily's giggling increased while James kept muttering at her side and eyeing the book with longing, he'd clearly  been out of practice to long, but when she kept going it was clearly getting harder by the moment to hold a blank face as her own amusement kept rising.

Harry was listening intently to Lee's commentary as he continued his own search, only hearing about Alicia avoiding a Bludger and Warrington, but pausing in confusion when he heard singing.

While Harry had been enjoying the show, both his mum messing with the two and his old Quidditch memories, he could already feel a stirring of unease for whatever was fixing to come. Lily clearly felt it as well as she couldn't quite keep up a bored tone anymore, wondering at who could be singing during the game.

Lee paused so that the lyrics could ring out, insert Slytherin version of Weasley is our King.

Lily had blanched in shock upon the first line, but she'd managed to stutter the whole thing out in the thick, heavy silence before coming to a screeching halt when she'd finally run out of insults.

"I-that is the lowest-" Remus looked too disgusted for words at what they were doing to Ron.

"Wow, I have seen a lot of backhanded things to mess with a player, but never a song dedicated to them," James's face was scrunched up with derision even as a very tiny part of him vaguely admired the dedication that went into something so elaborate.

"Really makes you wonder what Malfoy does with the rest of his free time, sings ballads to Hermione's parents, or poems to Harry's fame." Sirius snapped, his face twisted with dislike as he knew he'd have cursed Malfoy out of the air if he'd been there.

There was no longer any fun in Lily continuing with much less enthusiasm than anyone else, they all would have felt the same forcing themselves to read this bit no matter their love of the sport.

The moment Lee had realized what was being sung he'd tried to launch back into even louder and more detailed comments, but Alicia had passed to Angelina, who'd missed, making the ball Slytherin's as the song erupted again louder than ever.

James was practically vibrating in place, wanting to snap on a burst of speed and deck Malfoy where he flew, wanting to say something that would make Ron put that stupid song out of his head, but both were lost to him.

Warrington was heading back up the pitch with the Quaffle, finally putting a test to the new Keeper blood Ron Weasley, brother to Beaters Fred and George.

"The twins friend is doing a terrible job of helping them deny relation," Remus randomly muttered as anything else to think about, fighting back the impulse to press his hands to his ears in worry for this to come.

Even as Lee cheered on Ron, his wild dive saved nothing, it was ten zero to Slytherin.

All five of them cursed in sync for this misfortune, Lily denying doing any such thing by reading on loudly so as not to let the boys miserate for too long.

The singing burst through even louder, more people seeming to join in with every rendition.

"That can not be allowed!" Harry finally burst with frustration. "Can you put a whole house in detention! McGonagall, or someone shouldn't be letting them say that about him!"

The others remained completely silent with frustration, no one wanted to be the one to tell Harry what he already knew, there was nothing that could be done, it would be impossible to halt the whole game and kick those singing out of the stands.

Gryffindor continued the game with the ball in hand, as Harry continued more desperately now for the search of the Snitch, the chorus still thundering through the stadium.

Lily was forcing herself to keep reading this in a flat rage now, what she wouldn't give to put silencing charms on the lot of them for ever turning someone's life into such a cruel joke of a song.

The pattern continued as the ball continued passing hands, even out of the immediate action the song still being belted in the background.

Remus was twitching with unease in the tense room, wishing he could go back to laughing along with his friends about something as fun as a Quidditch game, why couldn't they ever go one of these without something terrible happening every time.

Harry refused to watch the actual action as he passed by the Slytherin Keeper, who was singing along with the lyrics.

"I'm going to imagine for a moment they skipped on some practices to all memorize this rubbish," James hissed under his breath.

Soon enough though, Ron was once again at bat, and the groan from his side of the crowd below was all Harry needed as answer. Still, twenty-nil was nothing, a few goals and they'd be back on even.

Sirius gave Harry an absent pat on the shoulder, absolutely agreeing with him this could all turn around any moment. The score wouldn't even feel as bad as it did if that wretched song would quit being passed around, but though Lily looked like she was considering skipping any more lines of it, that wasn't making it vanish.

After two more goals got through though, Harry really felt the beginnings of panic. He needed to finish the game quickly, and then no one would remember the rest of this mess. Angelina gave the Gryffindor's below something to cheer on soon, making the score forty-ten to Slytherin. Harry was ducking a Bludger sent his way

"Hooch didn't call that?" James snapped. "Could have used that penalty, Harry wasn't showing any signs of having seen the Snitch!"

"That's such an arguable call hardly anyone goes for it," Remus disagreed, James opening his mouth to argue the point but Lily ignored them both.

and keeping an eye on Malfoy as the game continued around them with those lines still being shouted.

Finally Harry saw the Snitch at the bottom of the Slytherin's goal posts, he dived, and in seconds Malfoy was on his tail, the two neck in neck,

Had Lily's joke at the start of this game not been interrupted she still wouldn't have had it in her to mime carelessness now, even with that horrid song echoing in the back of her mind she was edging in her seat with excitement.

It was over in one breathless swipe, Harry's fingers encasing the struggling, minute ball as Malfoy's fingers scrabbled at the back of his hand, and Harry stopped short to wave to the roaring approval of the Gryffindor crowd.

"YES!"

The echoing cheer of excitement could have woken neighbors. This was exactly what they needed to shove in those stupid Slytherin faces just how useless they were, how some hateful song wouldn't be enough to stop such a magnificent team!

Harry glowed for a moment in their praise, but the smile never quite reached his eyes as he watched them bounce with excitement for him. He wasn't sure he wanted to understand this feeling of dread, of something heavy just waiting to pounce on him for this win. Was it to do with Ron? Surely no one was really going to hold that against him, it was his first game after all...

WHAM.

Harry felt a Bludger punch the small of his back, flinging him off his broom.

Lily jerked in surprise as she read that, whatever victory she'd been holding before in that small moment blown away as effectively as a cannonball. The game was over, and Lily was hoping Ron got his revenge by clocking whichever Beater that was for pulling that stunt.

Harry was still only five feet off the ground, so the tumble forward merely winded him. Hooch at once flew up to begin shouting at the Slytherin Beater while Angelina landed near him, asking if he was alright.

Harry said of course he was while getting to his feet.**

"Oh yes, just a solid metal ball slamming into your spine, walk it off," Lily grumbled under her breath as she eyed her child, then turned sharp eyes on her husband who looked no more pleased but certainly not worried about injury.

Angelina explained it was Crabbe who'd done it. Then she began cheering they'd won!

A derisive snort from behind showed that Malfoy had not landed far away, now furiously telling Harry it was a miracle he'd saved Weasley's neck, but of course he'd be rubbish, he was born in a bin, then asked Harry if he liked the lyrics, he'd done them himself.

"He's wasting his talents as a slimeball," Sirius snarled, "he needs to pass on already and become a poltergeist."

"So long as he doesn't haunt Hogwarts," James agreed.

Harry refused to answer, turning away as the rest of the team landed around him except Ron, who landed over by his goals and was walking towards the changing room alone.

"I hope you go after him Harry," Lily couldn't help but urge, "you're only giving Malfoy what he wants by hanging back and listening to him."

Harry didn't answer, his face growing tighter by the minute as that feeling of anger continued to pound through him.

Malfoy kept going, pretending he had an audience as he explained he'd wanted to add some more in about being fat and ugly, for the Weasley's mother of course,

Harry's eyes flashed, he tensed and would have shot a curse at nothing if Sirius hadn't laid a restraining hand on his shoulder and whispered a calm reminder there was nothing for it now. It didn't make anyone feel any better, even though some of them held a dislike for Molly now they could never condone saying such a thing about her.

as well as loser for his father.

Lily was trying to read this quickly, so as to get the feel of sandpaper off her tongue from pure frustration. It never angered her any less when Malfoy continued using the same insults.

Fred and George tensed as they watched Malfoy with disgust, but even as Malfoy began backing away he was still talking about why this wouldn't bother Potter of course, the stank of the blood-traitors house must be similar to the Muggles who'd dragged him up.

No one ever appreciated any reminder of the Dursley's, but putting them in any kind of comparison which was the safe house of the Burrow like that truly was the most insulting thing they'd yet heard.

Harry grabbed hold of George to stop him doing anything, while the three Chasers were doing the same to Fred.

"I don't know why they're bothering," Sirius articulated through gritted teeth, "Malfoy's gone past where a detention would be worth it."

Malfoy clearly didn't care as he kept going, saying Potter must remember the stench from his own mother's house, she'd been even worse off being a-

James moved so fast Lily didn't realize the book had been wrenched away until she was staring at her empty hands, a slight burn in her palms from how tight she'd been holding the cover the only imprint of it. Maybe he'd just been going easy on her before then.

 She turned to snap at him, but he was too busy jabbing his wand at the offending page. "James!" She protested, trying to push her hand in the way to stop him before he did permanent damage.

"I am sick of that little scumbag insulting everyone, especially you," he said in a scary calm voice.

"Well doing whatever you're trying to do to that won't fix anything," she snapped as she pulled it back to her.

He gave in with a hateful scowl still in place, and Lily turned back to see the spell he'd managed to put in place, where Malfoy's name had been replaced with, well a colorful swear word Lily wasn't going to be saying. She fixed it and then kept going while James grumbled that hadn't been nearly enough payback.

Harry had no memory of releasing George, the two running side by side on their path to Malfoy, nor the shouts from his fellow teammates telling them to stop. All he knew was the fist drawn back, punching at Malfoy as hard as he could.

Lily stopped for a moment to look at her son, nibbling softly on her lip, but not a word could she find to speak against this. She couldn't claim to be much better if someone had been speaking of her mother.

The two only stopped when they fall off after the shout of the Impedimenta curse.

"I don't see why that was a reason to stop," Remus said quietly, "now's the time to go for the wand when the Muggle way stops working."

Sirius nodded in absolute agreement, his hand had long since been on his wand, just aching for something to curse.

Madam Hooch was in a towering temper above them, her wand out meaning she'd performed the jinx. Malfoy was still curled up in the grass, whimpering and nose bleeding.

"Clearly you didn't bash it into his skull, so I don't know what he's crying about," James snarled.

Hooch demanded the two go to McGonagall's office at once. They stormed off, Fred still being pinned beneath the Chasers and immune to anything else around them. It was only when they got to the office door did Harry start to feel something, and he glanced at his hand in surprise to see the one he'd been punching Malfoy with had still been holding the Snitch.

James struggled for a moment, but the compulsion to share his life with his son won out after his anger as he burst into speech, "I convinced our Seeker, Shilling, to keep the Snitch after every match and she passed it along to me. One of my favorite past times when I was bored was to pull it out and keep my reflexes up. Even I never thought of that though!"

"One of your very many annoying habits," Lily sniffed, her old angry bleeding tone giving James even more flashbacks. "You looked like such a show off."

"I was showing off," James agreed without remorse.

Harry couldn't marshal up much of a smile for the two, there was something about this day that promised to get even worse for him, and he had a feeling it wasn't about detention. There was also something else, a smaller memory that didn't align with this day, but promised he somehow had a first hand account of knowing those things his parents had just said, but that was ridiculous of course, how could he have known that?

They only stood there for a second when McGonagall came marching into view wearing a red and gold scarf, which she at once tore off as she pointed into the room looking livid.

"Damn, and I always loved it when she showed our house colors," Sirius winced.

"We're past flattery to make this better Padfoot," Remus rolled his eyes.

"Never stopped me from trying," Sirius shrugged.

She threw the scarf to the ground as she rounded the desk and on them.

"Now that was just uncalled for violence," James grumbled.

She demanded an explanation, and Harry quickly said they'd been provoked, which McGonagall did not find excusable as she pounded her fist on the desk, knocking over her tray of Ginger Newts.

"I think she needs to have one of her own biscuits and breathe for a moment," Lily said grimly, knowing Harry would get a chance to explain, but also knowing as well as anyone it wouldn't get him out of trouble no matter how much Malfoy had deserved it.

She snapped of course he had, he'd just lost, but nothing he could have said should have justified the two-

George cut in to say the insults, but McGonagall still said they should have gone to Hooch instead of displaying Muggle dueling.

"A very educational performance with splendid end results, really they should be getting thanks at least from Burbag," Sirius said flatly.

"There's that extra week we always got," Remus muttered.

Nothing further could be said before a hem, hem, entered the room.

"No!" Lily groaned as she gazed at that stupid little noise. "No, no, no-"

"Oh Lily, please tell me you're doing a terrible impression of a joke," James groaned into his fingers, he couldn't even look to her face for confirmation.

"What on earth is that roadkill doing there!" Sirius all but exploded. "She's nothing to do with any of this!"

Harry's horrible impression was growing more sickly by the moment. Somehow, this was all about to get terribly worse.

Harry and George turned in surprise to see Umbridge in the doorway wearing a green cloak, only further enhancing her resemblance to a toad as her pudgy eyes gleamed with a sickly ominous way Harry had come to associate with imminent misery.

"A face only my mother would love," Sirius groaned, digging his heels into his eyes so that he wouldn't have to keep watching Lily's face turn red from frustration of having to read about this woman in the same vicinity as her son again.

Umbridge offered McGonagall help in a poisonously sweet voice.

"You can help yourself off the astronomy tower," Remus snapped.

McGonagall actually grew more furious in the face of this, asking what help.

Umbridge insisted she'd thought McGonagall would be grateful for a little extra authority.

"I'd be more grateful if you dove headfirst into the black lake, meet the local population," Sirius promised.

Harry would not have been surprised to see sparks fly from Professor McGonagall's nostrils.

"Ah the twisted irony, Umbridge is actually doing more good than harm arriving then, because now McGonagall might go slightly easier on you in front of her," Lily sighed.

McGonagall snapped she'd thought wrong, trying to turn back to the two boys and giving them a week of detentions, but Umbridge would not be so easily deterred as she again made the hem, hem noise.

McGonagall closed her eyes as if praying for patience before slowly looking back to Umbridge.

"Merlin himself couldn't have offered any support for this except some toad-be-gone," James snipped.

Umbridge insisted she thought they deserved more than a detention for this display.

Harry was starting to twitch uncontrollably in his seat with unease, fighting the urge to either bury himself under the couch from a reaction he could sense coming, or tear the cushions in half from his own mounting anger. It helped nothing his family might just join in with McGonagall breathing fire soon, they all knew what Umbridge meant about her 'detentions.'

McGonagall's eyes flashed with outrage as she snapped that as these two were in her house, it was only her decision that mattered.

Umbridge oh so politely corrected that her decision did matter more while reaching for something.

"No..." Remus trailed off, too appalled to manage anything else in fear of where this was headed.

She pulled out something Cornelius had sent her, before correcting herself the Minister of course,

Lily only absently noted the lack and then use of the title as Umbridge's own self-importance in thinking she could be so informal, she was far more keyed into the new level of horror of where this could be going.

and unfurled a paper declaring it as Educational Decree Number Twenty-five-

though McGonagall interrupted in exasperation not another one!

"My sentiments exactly," James snarled.

Umbridge looked to her in surprise, saying McGonagall had given her the inspiration for this one as she'd overstepped and had Dumbledore intervene about putting the Gryffindor team back in play. Umbridge couldn't have that.

"No good deed goes unpunished," Remus said faintly, his two friends going bone white as they suddenly feared why this was being brought up again. Surely, no it wasn't possible, Umbridge couldn't have found a way to force the team to disband again, could she?!

Umbridge had contacted the Minister after this of course, the High Inquisitor couldn't be superseded like that or she'd have no more power than a common teacher.

"You shouldn't have any more authority than a sack of dung!" Lily screeched. She didn't want to keep going, was almost tempted to hand the book back over to James just so she wouldn't have to be the one to find out what this monster was going to do to her son next.

Then she went back to reading the amendment, that the High Inquisitor would henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments in school.

Lily had found it hard to believe the audacity of those first few amendments, and they somehow got worse every single time. This woman was creating these as she went along, and no one was stopping her!

She folded it back and put it away, before turning to the two boys and decided a life long ban on Quidditch for these two seemed sufficient enough punishment.

Harry's mind went blank. He heard shouting, he saw something get tossed across the room, but it was impossible to understand details as he struggled to wrap his mind around what he'd just heard.

Lily watched as the book thunked onto the mantel above the fireplace without regret, her fingers still twitching to throw something much bigger. She wasn't even a fan of her son being on the team and that was too far! She only held herself back from saying this by watching her husband work himself into a rampage with the only background thought being she should find a way to record this moment, otherwise there would be no record of Umbridge left when James was threw with her.

"-youngest Seeker in a century, she can't do that to him!"

Then again, what did they need a record of her for except an example of a transfiguration spell gone terribly wrong.

Sirius was too busy running scenarios in his head about something far too violent to be put into words, he needed action to get this one out of his system. Remus couldn't get his mind to act much better, as affronted as his friends and more than willing to enact whatever revenge they came up with.

Lily watched the lot of them try to find some way to work off their temper without destroying the house in vain, she really couldn't see a way to call their attention back even if she'd wanted to. So it was to her surprise when James finally found something resembling his normal voice and forced himself not to shout at his wife, "Lily would you keep going please. I'd like to get to the end of this book and find out how she's leaving this school." Then he trailed off into more hateful mutters about how that wasn't going to happen fast enough, and he couldn't believe his son was missing this sport for a whole year until that walking wart left.

"If it isn't Remus tearing her head off to replace her than it's not going to be as satisfactory," Sirius said grimly.

Lily silently agreed as she summoned the book back and pressed on for more horror.

Harry went numb in shock as he gazed at Umbridge telling herself this was for the best, terrible tempers the both of them, and for good measure Fred Weasley should be taken off as well as surely he'd have joined in the malay if he hadn't been restrained. She also wanted their brooms in her office, to make sure her ban was being enforced.

"She's gone from crossing the line into a whole new abyss!" Sirius howled in frustration. "She's, that's not, there's no-"

"She can't do that," Lily said in opposition. Quietly, a dangerous predator about to strike. "That's his private property, it's not against school rules to have."

"Well don't tell her that, or she'll ban brooms from the school next," Remus threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

Then she addressed McGonagall that she was not being unreasonable,

"You are something that I have only called one person, and you deserve the term far more than them," Remus growled.

she would allow the other members to continue playing, while McGonagall gazed at her as if carved from ice.

"I need McGonagall to understand that her life purpose now needs to be revenge for this," James pleaded with the universe. "Someone in that castle must understand this!"

"I'm worried there will be someone who does," Remus suddenly said with a touch of worry, looking to a still fuming Sirius. If he heard about Umbridge doing this, he may come up to the school and give her what he'd promised Harry Prongs and Padfoot would do in their own time.

With a look of satisfaction, Umbridge left the horrified room with silence in her wake.

Angelina was beside herself with anger when she heard there were no more Beaters or a Seeker on her team. Harry looked around the rest of the morose common room, it was as if they hadn't won at all.

"This woman is the physical embodiment of a mood killer," Lily groaned.

"I honestly believe she's a demon sent from hell at this point," Remus agreed.

Angelina was the only one with energy, shouting about the injustice of this. Fred didn't even deserve it, he hadn't done anything!

Fred snapped back in anger that was only because he was being held back from punching that scumbag to a pulp.

"Hey, the twins," Sirius suddenly snapped his fingers, giving Remus a pleased enough smirk. "Stop your worrying about me Moony, I can guarantee the twins won't be taking this one lying down."

Remus nodded grudgingly. It didn't make anyone's anger disappear by one level, but it did ease the misery of watching Harry's face as he relieved this moment.

Harry could only gaze out the dark window where snow was falling again. The Snitch had made its way back to the common room with him and was now flitting about chairs with Crookshanks chasing it.

James sighed as he imagined the old grin he could put on people's faces as he did this same thing nights in a row, of the party that should be going on, of simpler and fun times in his school, was it truly impossible for his son to enjoy that?

Angelina finally slumped off to bed, wishing this was all a bad dream and they hadn't even played yet.

"I don't ever want to relive this day, considering I'm struggling to come up with a worse outcome than this," Sirius huffed.

Remus gave a commiserating nod of agreement, Lily frowning pityingly at all of the boys in the room, but even she couldn't imagine how this could have gone a better way, the end results seemed inevitable by this point.

The common room slowly dispersed as well, only Harry and Hermione lingering because Ron had yet to make an appearance. When he finally did come edging in, he was covered in snow and just as pale as it.

Hermione quickly ushered him to the fireplace, asking where he'd been.

Ron just said on a walk, then told Harry he was going to resign first thing in the morning.

Lily truly pitied him, but couldn't help wondering if that wasn't for the best. Just because you were good at something didn't mean you could do it in front of a crowd, and that's clearly where Ron was sitting. She'd hate to see him ever feel so low again.

James absolutely disagreed, setting his shoulders and wishing he could drag Ron onto the pitch right now, already an idea forming in his head of how he'd help him to work through this. First he'd put one person in the stands until Ron could easily ignore that no matter what was said, and then keep adding people until Ron could block them all out. He didn't care how long it took, he'd find a way so that Ron would never let someone get the better of him like this. There was no such thing as quitting with dignity as far as he was concerned.

Harry snapped at him if he did that then there'd only be three players left. Ron looked at him in confusion,

"He hadn't heard of this!?" Remus said in surprise.

"I was wondering why he didn't question why the common room wasn't in party mode," Sirius grumbled, "clearly he hasn't heard much of anything."

before Hermione explained what had happened.

Ron looked even more anguished as he said this was all his fault.

"Oh it's nothing of the sort," Lily snapped, wondering if Hermione would whack Ron upside the head for his thinking something so stupid.

Harry said it was nothing of the sort, while Ron returned if he hadn't been so bad at Quidditch,

"Malfoy would have caused all this no matter how Ron played," Sirius snapped.

the two going back and forth like this until Harry burst loudest of all for Ron to stop blaming himself for everything.

Remus winced for Ron, sympathizing with him more than anyone else as he could really see why Ron did. People telling you you were something long enough tended to leave a mark.

Ron remained in a silent misery for a moment longer before saying this was the worst he'd ever felt in his life.

Remus had watched the exaggerations of his friends all his life long enough to know better than to pick on Ron for that statement. Though he was hard pressed to really not ask if this was worse than thinking his sister was dead.

Harry snapped he could join the club.

Hermione had gotten to her feet to stare at something out the window before telling them she'd found something to cheer them both up.

"Umbridge's tombstone," James snapped.

"His Firebolt back," Sirius sighed.

Harry asked what that could be skeptically, and Hermione said with a brilliant smile that Hagrid was back.

"He what?" Harry demanded, jumping to his feet in joy as Lily eagerly pressed the book into James' hands now so he could read more about that!

HPHPHPHPHP

The Lily reads a Quidditch game in a monotone voice idea was offered by, DjuulLOVEhp!

*Fun fact, most lion roars in movies are actually done by tigers. Ever heard a lion roar? You should, it sounds like their hacking up a hairball, not exactly intimidating to watch on a computer screen, more funny than anything, but I'm sure it's plenty scary in the wild. Now tigers, those guys will make you piss yourself through an enclosure.

** Reports say a Bludger weighs 149 pounds! I don't need to be a scientist to know that is more than enough to not only break a spine but go right through the human body if dropped on someone, let alone hit with force from a distance. In second year one of these was enough to break his elbow at a glancing blow! I'm not sure whether to call bull on inconsistency, or wonder if Harry died in this moment and the rest is all some twisted version of hell.

[tipsydipsydo]

Improvisation 💻 [M]

Pairing: Sub! Jin x soft Top! Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: very in detail descripted/graphic sexual content(!); filthy language; swearing; soft Sub-/Dom-Themes (➙ shy but needy and also teasy Jinnie; the Reader is sometimes not the most assertive Dom, Jin's charm kills him 24/7); Cam/Videocall-Sex; Mastubation; Anal Play; Sextoys; Dirty Talk; Praising; light Edging; Mentions of Nudes and Sexting; Mentions of Unprotected Sex (pls stay safe!)

Summary: This wasn't planned. Well, the whole world didn't planned to deal with a damn pandemic in 2020! If everything would have gone "normally", you would be in Seoul with Jin right in this moment and just enjoy that you're finally able to be close to Jin again. But now you two are stucked at home, Jin in his dorm in Seoul and you in your apartement in your town, far away from him. So you have to improvise for now on, how you want to deal with longing emotions and urging sexual desires...

[Links]

My Masterlist for your requests!

My official Masterlist!

『Disclaimer: This fanfiction should not trivialize or romanticize the actual situation! This pandemic itself is worse enough. The reasons why I wrote a fanfic about this very difficult and sensitive topic can be found in my Authors Note down below.』

Author's Note:

(Be prepared, it's gonna be a long authors note but it's important! So please read it.)

I hope you all (and your friends and family!) are okay and that you didn't get infected with the corona-virus... or at least getting through your infection in the best way possible!

Like the majoritiy of the world population, I got house detention from our government as well (Okay, I'm already two weeks at home because of school closing).

I know, some other writers already used this special situation to write some stuff for us, so we're not going completely crazy by our boredom.

And yes, I wrote something about this too, this here is my own version of all these coronavirus-quarantaine-caused writings out there ^^°.

I hope, y'all not already sick of it... I know, the "Corona-Topic" is literally everywhere and at some point, you just can't listen to anything, that is related to that theme anymore! (Even when it's really important!)

But like all writers here, I just try to "make the best out of this horrible pandemic" and help you, to get through your quarantaine in the best way.

And when you (or someone of your friends, your family or your relatives) are not in quarantaine and you/they have to go to work, because they're a doctor, a nurse, a pharmacist, a scientist, a police officer, part of the military, an employee of a supermarket/drugstore, a factory worker, a truck driver, a farmer etc, you deserve my biggest respect, really! (And to be honest from the whole world population!)

They try to fight the virus itself or their Job count to the sensitive infrastructure of your country, that's why they all try their best to keep the health care system/the minimum of infrastructure in their country going! All these peoples are amazing and they should know that!

I know, especially in this crisis just a little "thank you" can't help them. All of them need to get paid a lot better for their job and they need suitable protective clothing, masks, sanitizer and so much more. In particular these peoples that have to work directly with infected patients like doctors, paramedics or nurses. 

They need these utensils to take care of infected patients properly (especially in risk groups!) and to protect themselfs as well! That's why I appeal to you, to donate medical face-masks or sanitizer that you or your family bought in an inordinate amount in of panic buying to your local hospital.

There is nothing wrong with having one or two face masks or a bottle sanitizer at home. But you don't need 10 bottles sanitizer or 50 face masks, when you simply stay at home!

Trust me, they'll need it so much more than you. We can't fight the virus when the medical staff themself get infected. All these peoples out there risk their own health, maybe even life for us! In some countries or regions they're already completely overworked and near to a (systematic and mental) break down.

When we could help them with literally doing nothing and staying at home, then please, please, please do it!

I'm not a doctor or a nurse, but I think when everybody follow their government's rules (or in general, the instructions of the WHO) and help the health care system of their country with simply staying at home, we're able to get through this pandemic somehow.

「So in short: This following story should only be a gentle reminder to stay at your fucking home and to follow your government's rules to prevent that the virus spread even more! Okay? Thank you.」

So, now you're allowed to read. Enjoy~💚

「© tipsydipsydo」

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You sigh and play around restlessly with the cable of the charger of your laptop, which is plugged into it and is just in front of you on the bed tray. Even when Jin and you text each other almost every free minute, you get nervous every time he takes a little longer to answer your video call.

The past few weeks have made you an emotional wreck, especially when suddenly the infections in South Korea are skyrocketed. You contacted Jin immediately and asked him, if he, the members, his family and friends were doing well.

And overall, how the situation in Korea is and with which Strategy his government is now going to deal with it.

In the following weeks the virus continued to spread. Every day new states reported their first cases, infections increased in many countries, more and more nations prescribed school closings and national quarantine for almost all citizens. With each new day, the international infrastructure and thus also the economy gradually came to a standstill. Sometimes it feels like the earth has stopped spinning around the sun.

The whole further development of the epidemic, now pandemic, is still absolutely uncertain. Too little is the knowledge about this new virus and his behaviors. No one knows when an effective vaccine will exist.

So there is nothing else you can do but hope for the best and follow the rules of your own government and the instructions of the WHO. That means self-isolation and quarantine at home indefinitely.

That was nothing you had planned... actually you wanted to be in Seoul since three days and at that very moment you would lying tightly wrapped up with Jin in his bed.

Your visit in Seoul had been planned for months, everything was already perfectly organized and arranged, Jin even got a few days off! And now? Now you both are sitting far away from each other in your bedroom and only have the opportunity to do video calls with each other. Again.

Although your vacation were already planned and your Boss agreed, it hasn't been so clear in the past few weeks anymore if you can still take your vacation days due to this current situation.

The economic situation has become increasingly difficult, especially for the international trading company you work for. In the End, the government destroyed your plans anyway by stopping air travel and the legal prohibition of entry and exit of the country.

Of course, you were incredibly angry and frustrated at first, but in retrospect you realized that it was a good decision to do that. At least to slow down the spreading.

If you had flown to Seoul, you might have been infected. Perhaps the virus can only cause you little or even no problems, but you could've negligently infected risk groups.

And, to be honest, if you would have flown to Seoul, that would be just because of pure selfishness. And you don't want to be responsible for for spreading the virus even more.

That was in general the reason, why you decided to basically stay at home for now on. You only go out for grocery shopping once a week. At least, you try  your best not to get infected and therefore not to infect anyone else. And at the same time not to die of boredom.

Although Jin currently has more time than usual, he still has to work and to practice with the other members. When they have finished their daily routine, Namjoon and Yoongi mostly continue their "quarantine" in their studios and Hoseok and Jimin stay in the dance studio a little longer. Here and there Tae and Kookie keep them company and practice their choreography a little bit more with them, before they come back to the dorm and play video games or do other things.

As usual, Jin takes over the cooking and takes the opportunity to talk to you on the phone as much as possible or to facetime with you. Of course, it's nice that you can still spend so much time together with the help of the modern technology. But it cannot replace a real visit.

They've not met each other for a too long time, for too long it has not been possible for you two to kiss, cuddle or exchange carresses with one another... For too long, you both had no sex. And that with two people who have, let's say, a very healthy sex drive. It's awful.

You had tried a few times to get sexually active with Jin in front of the screen. But it seems like it's not his thing at all. Talking a bit here and there via text message about your dirty fantasies is okay for him. And when your Jinnie is really horny, you can also encourage him with some messages to send you a dick pics or a few voice mails where he's masturbating and moan your name in such a sinful way. When you have brought him to this point, you praise him a lot and assure him, how sexy he is ans how hot it is that he sends you such pictures.

Pictures yes, videos no.

When you ask him then, if he would be comfortable with making phone calls or even video chats of this kind of "talk", Jin will backtrack.

He can't really explain it, but he doesn't feel comfortable with presenting himself completely naked in front of the camera and even doing filthy things at the same time.

But you understand what he's trying to tell you. Jin loves it intense and passionately, with an extensive foreplay and good aftercare, but "really freaky stuff" is not his world. Doing sexual things with his partner is very personal to Jin, and he's also an idol, it would be a catastrophe when a video or picture of this kind would get public.

Therefore you fully accept his limits! After all, there is nothing to complain about, sex with Jin is always wonderful and absolutely satisfying!

Only when you are separated from each other again, you hardly know how to deal with your sexual desire. Well, would you have thought that Jin has completely the same problems and your sweetheart is just a little shy, to make naugthy things in front of the camera?...

You gasp in relief when Jin finally accepts the call and greets you with an apology, that it tooks so long. The environment tells you that he is in his room. You assume that he's sitting on his bed and leaning against the wall, the laptop on his lap.

You smile at him affectionately, reassure him that he doesn't have to apologize just because his boyfriend unwillingly becomes a bit overprotective and worries too much. You know that all this is not good, but you just can't switch off worrying about your darling.

Jin smiles a little shyly at you, his cheeks are slightly reddened. You want to ask if he's really okay, but you bite yourself on the tongue quickly. The virus had been the subject of your conversation far too often. Jin can take care of himself, if there is any suspicion that he may have been infected, he will tell you. At least, Jin and BigHit Entertainment will know how to handle it.

"No, no Y/N. Don't worry, I'm just like you... You should hear how the boys talking about me. They say, that I'm overthinking way too much... But you are fine, right? And how are your Parents in your hometown, are there already the first infections?", Jin asks and looks at you with an insistent look, eyebrows knitted in concern.

This here became to a ritual, for now on you talk always the first five minutes about the current situation. No matter whether using text messages, voices mails, phone calls or videocalls. Every day you ask each other whether the infections in your both country has improved or deteriorated, how each other's friends and family are doing, and what measures South Korea and now your country are taking.

After that, your conversation mostly wanders to other topics. It's good to come up with other thoughts as well, so nobody is going completely crazy. As many politicians, doctors and virologists already said, we have no choice but to keep calm and not to panic before we start acting thoughtlessly.

You're just about to start complaining a little bit about all the work you have to do in your home-office when Jin anticipates you.

"Y-Y/N?"

You look back at the screen and see how the initial slight blush on Jin's face has intensified and spread to his ears. In addition, you've noticed a few minutes before that Jin has become a bit restless and keeps moving back and forth. As if his sitting position is uncomfortable.

"Yes? Darling, is something wrong? You seems to be so restless and that something is uncomfortable for you ...", you answer him and look at him questioningly with a concerned frown between your eyebrows. The blush on his cheeks increases a shade darker and now it has completely taken over his ears. God, if you're honest, it's so cute when he's shy and his ears turns red.

"Would you like to know why it took me so long to answer your call... there is... there is a reason for that," Jin says quietly.

In precaution, he looks at his room door again to make sure that it's really locked. Even when everyone else is not in the dorm right now, you'll never know who would opens the door of his room without expecting anything... indecent.

He takes a deep breath before he puts the laptop down on his bed, positions the screen with the camera at the right angle. You can see how Jin's prominent adam's apple starts bobbing nervously. This sight makes you involuntarily biting your lower lip and a warm shiver trickles down your back. 

Fuck, Jin's throat has always been one of your soft spots. This sight is tempting ypu to spread countless hickeys on his soft skin, want to mark him as your boyfriend. Because he's an idol, you always have to hold back with your little kink, because a dark love mark can't even cover up the best make-up really well.

But sometimes you just can't hold back or you just forgot that you should do it. Like when Jin's moaning and whimpering is so damn sexy, it makes you addicted to wanting to hear it again and again. Besides that, responds so wonderfully to your touch...

You going to be ripped out of your lewd thoughts when Jin turns with his back to you and his precious butt is now on the same level with your eyes. A completely confused expression manifests on your face. What the-

"I-I have a little surprise for you... I hope you like it...", says Jin in a trembling voice and hooks his two thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Your next breath gets stuck in your throat as your boyfriend pulls his sweats and boxer briefs at the same time down.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Your lips open, you want to say something, but no sound comes out of your mouth. You're absolutely speechless. Your sweet, innocent Jin...

Between his perfectly round buttcheeks is a metal buttplug, gemmed with a beautiful turquoise-blue jewel. You had never used toys in your sex life before. Jin is more of a fan of getting fingered extensively from you until he's prepared and relaxed enough to take you slowly all way in.

And now, this beautiful buttplug is enclosed in the most erotic and sinful way by your sweet, rosy musclering.

Fuck, if you only could be with Jin right now, to be able to admire this plug with a closer look, to pull it out of Jin and tease his hole a little bit with the tip of the plug.

You're so fascinated and immersed in admiration that you don't notice how Jin is getting nervous and insecure. You still haven't said anything, even though a minute has passed.

"Y-Y/N?", Jin asks in an unsettled voice. He's already about to turn around and pull his pants up again, when life comes back into your body and you answer him hastily.

"No, no, no! Please stay in this position! Fuck, baby... I don't know what to say... You are so damn sexy!", you're stuttering, you just can't take your eyes from his plug.

"But please explain to me... why... why are you doing things like that? And where did you get the plug? I-I mean, fuck, that's so damn sexy, I'm the happiest man in the world and I wish, I'd with you right in this moment and could tease you a little bit with this cute little plug... but why? I thought such things in front of the camera makes you uncomfortable? Please don't do such things only for me! Just because I'm so fucking horny today again! Please don't do it because you-", but then Jin interrupts your babbling.

When you got out of the shower this morning and looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help it but send Jin a picture of you shirtless, hoping to get him involved in a bit of spicy and horny texting. You've the feeling that this quarantine and the canceled visit makes you horny 24/7. You don't want to admit it, but fuck. You need Jin so much.

"I wanted to try this for a long time... for months it kept coming back to my mind. I was frustrated by myself when you tried to encourage me to do something sexual in videos or directly live in front of you but always pull back again. Because... because... I don't know it clearly. I wanted to do something with you, I-I had countless fantasies about it in my mind... I wanted to be sexy for you, to make you moan and curse with my s-sight... b-but I think, I was just too shy every time. I felt so awkward and ridiculous doing things like that in front of the laptop. Such things that the two of us usually only do together on our own. I was embarrassed by myself... ", Jin mumbled and is glad, that at this moment you only see his butt and not his crimson red face.

Your eyes grew round like bowling balls, filled with disbelief.

"W-What? So that means... you wanted to do these things all day, but you were just too shy? Because you thought you would be awkward and weird?"

"Y-Yes. I want to do... naugthy stuff with you while videocalling... Fuck, Y/N, I miss you so much! I miss your kisses, your hugs, your soft carresses, your tender kisses on my body. Our foreplay, when you gently prepare me and finger me open for you... I-I miss our sex so much and just mastubation with my hand isn't satisfying anymore! I want you... I need you so bad... ", says Jin. Starts whimpering at the last of his sentences.

With these words, a deep growl comes from your throat and some curses leaves your lips, your pants has become so damn tight at the center.

"Fuck, baby, I know. I know how you feel, I feel the same way! I want you so bad, I was looking forward to seeing you again. Fuck, this damn pandemic."

You push the bed tray with the laptop a little away, impatiently you unbuckle your belt and opens your pants. Your cock needs a little more freedom in this moment.

When Jin hears your words and the rustling of fabric, realize how worked up you already are, he immediately feels a little bit more confident. He moves a little closer to the laptop and offers you an even better view. He bites his lower lip in anticipation of what finally seems to follow after such a long time.

"Jin... would you be okay with it to pull your butt cheeks apart so that I can see the plug... a little bit better?", you ask in a husky growl, teasing your hard erection through the thin fabric of your boxers.

By this question, a soft whimpering comes over Jin's lips, with trembling hands he reachs back and placing each one on a butt cheek, pulling them slowly apart to give you the sight you desire for.

"Fuck, Jin Baby, that's so sexy. You're so, so damn sexy! Do you even know how all of this here is turning me on? God, you're killing me!", you groan and rubbing instantly harder over you clothed, rock hard dick.

A little smirk appeared on Jin's lips. When he's already killing you right know, how should you survive these other things that Jin planned for tonight...

"Honey, would you like it when I pull that plug out of me and gonna finger myself... w-while you can watch me?", Jin asks you sweetly with a slightly shaking voice. The thought alone let Jin's own erection twitch.

Oh fuck, Jin is going to be your death someday.

"Please, Baby... I would be so thankful when you allow me such a view. Letting me watch how you please yourself...", you answer in a breathy, hoarse voice and let your head fall back against the wall.

Closing your eyes for a moment, try to prepare yourself mentally for what coming next. This Show, Jin will give you, will be surely unbelievable sexy... but also an absolute torture for you.

You're usual the one with a leading hand in your relationship when it comes to bedroom stuff. But you have to admit, that you're not the most assertiv Top... and Jin knows way too well, where to find and to press your soft spots.

Sometimes it comes to the point that Jinnie is wrecking you more than you him! You think, that your Darling kinda loves the thought to make your knees weak instead of his. And to be honest... you loves it so fucking much, when your big shy bean find his self confidence again and tease the shit out of you, just saying, that he just wants to please you.

As you hear a soft whimper coming out of the speakers of you Laptop, you startle and your eyes snaps open immediatly. A little groan get out of you throat, that rises up from the deepest place of your chest. God, it shouldn't be allowed to be so fucking attractive, you think.

Jin pulled a latex glove of his right hand and is about to reach back to his most precious places, to grab the gemmed base of his plug. His left hand pull his buttcheek a little bit away to give you an amazing view of his action.

Your Boxer briefs has literally a tent at your crotch now and your cock twitch at the sight, is angrily fighting to be finally completely free. God, you're such a bastard for very detailed graphics... like the view Jinnie is giving you now.

You yank your Jeans and your Boxers with a curse down. Gripping your hard length and squeezes it with a firm grip, when you see Jin's rosy, seductively glistening muscle ring stretching open as your Boyfriend pulls the plug slowly out of himself.

He's panting fast when he let the plug fall on a towel beside him and his left hand leaves his butt. His upper body flops down onto the mattress and now, your Jinnie presents himself in the most erotic way you could imagine.

Ass up, sticking his butt out into the air and let you admire his sweet hole, slightly stretched my the plug, clenching around nothing in anticipation for the promised play session that will follow now.

Jin lets his lower body sink down as well, laying on his stomach and turning onto his right side. Allow you a little glance of Jin's adorably pink flushed cheeks and the red tips of his ears. This sight makes your heart and stomach flutter, blushy Jin while doing naughty stuff is just... hitting all of your soft spots in one tour.

He pulls his upper leg, his left leg up to his chest and positions himself comfortably, while he's pouring a good amount of lube onto his latex gloved fingers. Then he's reaching back again.

The pad of Jin's middle finger teases gently his entrance, his body is still moving until he founds a really comfortable position. After the tip of his finger disappeared in himself, the whole length of his finger sinks into his sweet hole as well. Let you watch, how he'll finger himself, enjoying himself, feeding his own desire, give him this desperately needed pleasure when you can't unfortunately. And fuck... that's so hot!

After he needs a short moment to adjust, he starts pumping his middle finger in and out. At first slowly, then faster and faster. Jin is getting even needier when the pleasure of his finger-play arise more and more. It didn't took long until he allows his ring finger to glide into his hot walls as well.

After a few thrusts of his hand, he begins to spread his two fingers apart, scissoring and stretching his sinful tight asshole open, let you watch the movements of his fingers very well.

You're gulping and breathing audibly out of your nose, a longing, slightly even desperate hum leaves your throat. You want to be at Jin's side, want to watch him in real.

You want to see, how he's stretching himself open for your cock, moaning and whimpering you name. You want to touch him. You want to grip his thigh and his left ass cheek firmly, give it a gentle slap and pull the soft flesh up to get a closer look.

Admiring how wonderful his fingers fucking himself, how rapidly he's slamming them into his hole, his noises getting even more whiny and desperate. His hips starts to circle, loud breathy and high pitched moans leaving his lips when his fingertips reaching for a second this sweet spot deep inside of him.

But just for a tiny moment, there is not enough stimulation for your needy Boy. Especially when he knows how good he could feel, when he remember the times when you teased his prostate.

Your thumb grazing again and again over your angry red, precum leaking crown, teasing yourself. The urge is enormous to just jack off in a brutal fast pace to finally satisfy the barely standable desire, that grows in your abdomen.

Your eyes don't leave the screen when you reach to your beside table and pull the first drawer open, searching uncoordinated with your hand in there. You curse under breath when you finally perceive the things you searched for, but can't grab them.

If you want or not, your eyes have to leave the erotic sight of Jin's figure for a moment, when you want to get your needed things out of the drawer.

You bend quickly over to the side, fishing the lube and your fleshlight out of your nightstand. You use this helpful toy when there is not enough friction to get you off or... when you're freaking horny... when you just want to fuck Jin right in that moment.

With it, you can better imagine how you'd be pounding into Jin, laying his legs over your shoulders and gripping his thighs. Let Jin whimper and beg until you allow him to touch his own cock to be finally able to cum. Imagine, how his hot walls gripping your cock tightly, literally squeezing and cock milking you until it's too much and you shoot you load of white, creamy cum deep inside of him.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! You need him so, so freaking bad right now, it drives you crazy!

When you turn back to your Laptop, Jin is panting heavingly and pulls his fingers out of himself right in that moment, throwing the used latex glove into the trash can next to his bed. Now you're the one who starts whining.

"Baby, why just stopped fingering yourself? Fuck, that was so damn hot and I love to see that, why-", you ask him, eyebrows pulled together in desperation and frustration.

Jin's body is trembling, he's panting fast and gasps for breath leaves his red swollen lips. He need a bit time to collect himself again and to be able to anwer you in a throaty voice.

"T-There is another surprise I prepared for you...", he's stuttering slightly and grab his laptop to place you with it in his desk. You're confused, again.

He goes back to his bed, step out of his pants completely now and pulling his green sweater over his head.

Now he's standing in his bare, naked full glory infront of the camera, let you gasp for breath. God, he's beautiful. His body reminds you always of these greek sculptures, his beauty is absolutely beyond all descriptions.

You can't describe him. You have to see him.

He grabs for the bottle of lube and lays it next to you, well, his laptop, on his desk. Without a word, you follow his actions, don't dare to say anything. Even when you two are not in the same room, there is a thick sexual tension between Jin and you through your laptops.

"Y/N... can you close your eyes for a moment? Until I say you can look again?", Jin says in a quiet voice. Looking at you through the camera in dark pupils full of lust and with pleading eyes, to just follow his appeal without asking.

Well, you wanted to protest but with this sight you close your mouth again and nod slightly, closing your eyes as well.

You hear some footsteps, something rumbles like he's moving something around. You knit confused and questioningly your eyebrows together, but you don't say anything. These noises disappears and silence returns to the speakers of your laptops. Just here and there you can hear some soft footsteps of Jin.

Suddenly, out of nowhere you can hear a long, broken moan of Jin that is followed by a soft, sweet "Oh my God, yes!" and a shaky, but so sensual hum that comes out of Jin's Chest.

"B-Baby... Y-You can open your eyes again..."

Even when you opened your eyes again, you can't believe them. That has to be a fucking dream, right?

You squint your eyes more than one time, your jaw dropped and you can't bring any proper sentences over your lips, starts babbling nonsense.

"O-Oh my holy fuck!... Jin, oh fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck, you can't kill me like that! Y-You can't do this to me, I'll going completely crazy to see you like that... Fuck, Jin Baby, I want you so bad... Oh God, that's so sexy. You're so goddamn sexy."

Jin is sitting with the back to you on a chair with a flat seating surface, gripping moaning and whimpering the edge of the backrest tightly. Lifting himself slowly up and lower his body with the most delicious and tantalizing hip circles again.

Bouncing at first slow, then faster and faster on this transparent pink silicone dildo that is placed with a suction-pad on the seat.

Let you watch how good he can take this fake cock in his tight ass after he prepared himself with fingerfucking so well. How he lowers himself down, stuffing the dildo inch for inch into his stretched and needy hole, filling himself up with this silicone dick.

The way, how he's riding this dildo in front of the camera, so needy and desperate...

The way, how all these moans and whimpers flowing over his lips without any shame...

Let you guess, how much he needed you too, how bad he needed to get fucked by your cock again.

It shows you how much he's missing the sex with you.

You can't see his face, but the red tips of his ears. You don't know why, but it turns you so fucking much on, to see Jin's blushing face.

To see, how he's a little bit embarrassed for being so needy but at the same time he's riding this dildo so fucking desperate, can't stuff enough of this plastic cock into his greedy hole. Bouncing up and down on this dick, moaning your name like he's riding you in this moment, instead of this fake dick.

Let you see, how he would bouncing on you, how he would fucking you when you would be at his side.

And this... this so goddamn sexy that you have the feeling that you'll go insane by your desire for him.

"Jin, Baby... turn around. I want to see your face when you cum. I want to see your blushy face. Flushed red, caused by your embarrassment for doing filthy things in front of the camera, right?", you ask him breathless, a little teasing smirk.

Jin whine and when he hesitatingly turn around, you see that he got even redder. God, your precious baby is so shy doing dirty things with you... you love it!

While he's turning around and re-positioned himself above the dildo, you hastily prepare your rock hard cock and the fleshlight with lube. When Jin sinks down on that dildo, you enter with a deep groan the fleshlight.

The fleshlight is only a poor comfort when you know how tight and hot Jin's walls really are. But you see Jin with the same unsatiesfied desire when he's bouncing on that damn fake dick. Jin knows, how wonderful your cock, only your cock, stretch his ass in all perfect places open and filling him up to the maximum.

But still, it's definitely better than nothing! You'll go through this time together until you're finally able to lay in each others arms again.

You hear in Jin's whines and his needy face expression shows you that he gets closer and closer to the edge, but it's not enough to cum. He's about to wrap his hand around his hard, precum leaking dick, when you start lecturing him.

"Nuh, nuh, nuh! Baby, you know the rule, right? You're not going to touch your cock until I say so, is that clear? You know the reason? Hm?", you say in a harsh, dominant voice and raise an eyebrow.

Jin bite down on his plushy and swollen lip, try his best not to let a whine out. Jinnie's face full of desperation and sexual need is one of your favourite views... that's pure art.

"Y-Yes... I-I'm not allowed to touch myself until you're close too, so we can cum together...", he whimper with a broken voice.

"That's right, Darling... so please wait a little bit longer... for me, yeah?", you wisper in a gentle tone into the microphone of the laptop.

The longer Jin wasn't allowed to touch his dick, the more whinier he got, bouncing breathlessly up and down on his dildo. But exactly that turned you even more on and your hand, with which you hold the fleshlight moved even faster. So it doesn't took much time that you're on the cliff to cum too.

You enjoy how Jin looks at you since the last three minutes. So fucking desperate and needy, impatiently waiting at your sign that he's allowed to touch his cock and jack himself off.

A thin layer of sweat is covering his skin, his bangs sticks to his forehead, plush lips are red from chewing. His chest rises and falls quickly, Jin's breathing is fast. His fingers are clawed on the edges of the seat, his arms supporting him while riding the cute transparent, pastel pink silicone cock.

Your gaze move lower in his body, a satisfied smirk spread in your lips when you see his thick long cock twitching whenever he fills his ass with the dildo up to the base. The crown of his dick is red and precum is spread all over his stomach and the top of his thighs. His plump balls, completely full of delicous cum are shacked up to his body. They're just waiting for release and to be finally able to let the load shoot all over Jinnie's stomach and chest.

You love the sight. Even when you're not there, at the end you're still able to make a complete mess out of your sweet Boy.

Now, you think, he should be allowed to cum.

"Now, Baby...", you said with a teasing smirk and you're literally bathing in satisfaction when Jin gasps in relief and immediatley wrapping his hand into a fist around his cock. He just needed a few rubs until he cum with a high-pitched whine that sounds like a mixture of a moan and a sob. God, he's so messed up.

This sound alone let you blow your load into your fleshlight.

Jin's orgasm seems to be strong, the waves of pleasure leaves his body trembling and oversensitive. He flinch when he's about to get up from the dildo and takes it out of his super oversensitive hole.

God, he's so fucking beautiful when he's messed up.

"Baby, this was undescribable sexy... we should do it more often, definitely! Who know's when we're able to see each other in real life again? Hm, what do you think, Jinnie?"

Jin is gulping, his adams apple bobs in damn attractive way and then, he's nodding with bright red cheeks.

"Yes... please."

Okay, with this fanfic here I've fulfilled my educational responsibility as a fanfic writer!😂😅

[manuphantom]

I replied to a post from pedro on twitter where he had put the link on the new mandalorian season 2 poster, I replied under his post that I was so excited to see him in October and that I was so fond of mando and baby yoda. All of a sudden I get a private message that I hear from Pedro almost takes me doesn't take a hit, I was really shocked. pedro wrote "hello I hope I didn't scare you in the message, thanks for writing in the post, I know who you are, I have seen many of your photos with me next to you you are really funny, I'm sorry I never liked you, I feel that I don't I would like to be too cheeky but I would like to meet you live, answer when you can ", my brain was traveling at an unprecedented speed I thought" oh my god pedro wants to know why I'm afraid of him, if I don't like them? "; in the end I replied "hello pedro sorry if I answer you now, thank you very much for replying you were kind, I don't know what to say to go out with you, however I accept the invitation tell me where". Pedro answered me shortly after "you just have to say yes, I wanted to ask you if you would like to have breakfast with me? I know a nice and quiet place to go called toast bakery cafè", I replied "ok perfect, thanks again then there see you there for 9:00, I'll be dressed casually in black ", Pedro replied" perfect see you there for 9:00, thanks to you for accepting and I apologize again for scaring you usually I'm not like that daring, but there is something about you that intrigues me a lot ", I said" I don't think I'm so intriguing haha, you'll see it for yourself later "; I closed the mail and got dressed. god i was taut like a violin string, i dressed as fast as possible, wore a black mandalorian t-shirt and baby yoda, i had a pair of black shorts below the knee and i was wearing a pair of black adidas trainers. I arrived on site at least 20 minutes early, I waited for pedro in front of the club, I had never been so tense with a man but especially with him, I was curious to see him live. I saw him coming god how beautiful he was, his hair was a little bit longer like in the mandalorian, his eyes were a dark brown like chocolate, that fleshy mouth cabbage I would have given them a bite willingly, it was really beautiful so fascinating up close. he introduces himself giving me his hand "hello nice to meet you", I replied "my pleasure", I shook it, that hand was so soft to the touch, imagine if that hand were to undress me and better not think about it ", pedro said" what about let's go in ", I said" yes of course ". we entered the place was nice and welcoming, we sat at the table facing each other. pedro said "so are you happy to come and have breakfast with me?", i said "i am very happy to be here with you, you really were very kind, why did you want to go out with me", pedro said "to make me to donate all the times that I have not even replied to one of your posts so I wanted to be forgiven ", I looked at him smiling I replied" you do not have to be forgiven for anything, you know it makes me strange to go out with someone like you, do not get me wrong I'm very happy, but I don't understand because just me, I just answered one of yours on the mandalorian ", pedro looked at me with his hypnotic gaze he said" you intrigue me a lot, I would like to know you more if you allow me ", I couldn't believe it pedro wanted to know me more ", I replied with a shy" yes ". Pedro said "let's order breakfast, I'm hungry like wolves", in the end we ordered. Pedro had an American black coffee and buttered toast with blueberries, while I had iced tea and French toast with strawberries.

pedro said "so what's your french toast", I replied "it's really sublime, it will be a lifetime that I didn't eat a french toast so good, instead your toast how is it?", pedro said "it's very good then i love blueberries only my favorite food, so tell me what brings you here in los angeles ", i replied" well i'm attending an acting class and i'm working as a waitress to be able to pay for the course since it's not so cheap ", pedro said" wow congratulations, I also started from scratch doing several auditions, I know what it means to earn a living alone, even if sometimes I suffered from hunger too, but luckily I had a very kind neighbor lady who he was always preparing food, when I moved to New York I was 17 ", I looked at him and replied" I have seen several interviews of you, you are really an interesting person not because you are famous, but because you are simple in hand and it shows, you know not everyone is like that, I love people though mplici because they are themselves I do not like snobs at all that if they pull it I hate them ". he said "you are absolutely right in this world there is little simple, we always have to fight with bitches because a person is different from the color of the skin or because of a different sex, unfortunately we are in a very closed society where the weakest lose and the richer they win, but I'm with the weaker ones we have to give voice to the lower people ", I replied" I agree with you, now let's talk about beautiful things, instead you what will you tell me of course if you can tell me something ", pedro said" well at the moment nothing special, I'm studying some scripts of some movies let's see if they interest me, then today I posted the photos of the entertaiment weekly newspaper and then yesterday I posted a post on instagram of an interview that I have done with a friend of mine about dogs other things related to the mandalorian, the game of thrones etc., have you seen it "he asked curiously; I replied "yes I saw both posts, the interview was super nice, then I love dogs, years ago I was a dog sitter and I volunteered at a kennel here near Los Angeles I wanted to take all the dogs home , too bad I can't afford it "; Pedro said "man, how nice, I have a mongrel dog named edgar, wait I'll show you the photos", took the phone and showed me how many photos he had with edgar, we were so close I could smell his scent of clean and mixed coffee , I had the chills. I looked at the photos ecstatic, how beautiful they were you could see that they really loved each other, then I said "you are really too cute, Edgar looks like a little hairy baby yoda I bet the ahi chosen for that hahaha", he laughed and said "no not I chose him for that, I wanted a dog to keep me company and not feel alone when I'm at home ", I replied" it's a beautiful gesture what you did furry animals are a good company more than human beings ", pedro he said "I'm not a good company?", I replied "of course you are a good company, thank you so much again for today, you have been really kind, but soon I have to go I have to go back to studying", Pedro a little sad said "ok, if you ever need help with anything just let me know is, you can send me an emal or a private message or even to have a chat", I replied "thank you". in the end, pedro paid for both of us, we left the cafeteria, the air was still cool and not too hot for 11:30. Pedro turned to me and said "can I hug you?", I replied "certainly", his hug was so comfortable and soft that I didn't want to let him go, man since they didn't hug like that, I smelled his scent of clean, I was stroking their back a little bit, but after a while I broke away from him, our faces were so close that Pedro kissed me without thinking twice, the kiss was sweet and passionate, I tightened their shirt, then I pulled away back to him but with a stupid smile. Pedro said "it was this morning that I wanted to do it, sorry if I was hasty, but you intrigue me a lot", I put my hands in front of my eyes replying "you kiss very well, but it's me who kisses shit it was a while since I was not kissing someone ", he took his hands from my eyes, stroked my cheek and looked at me" but stop not kissing so badly, I would like to see you again if I can ask ", I incredulously said" do you really want to see me again? I find a jealous girlfriend chasing me with a knife on the street right? ", he laughed heartily" no I have no girlfriend at the moment I'm free and that's why I asked you if I can see you again? " said pedro, I replied "sure there is no problem, I'll leave you my mobile number, now I really have to go", he said "thank you for the wonderful morning later I'll send you a message", I replied " ok ", we said goodbye a little sad, I would not have wanted this day to ever end. I greeted him again and started to go back to work when I get a message on my cellphone from pedro "have a good day", I replied "you too have a good day, we'll soon feel kisses", I went to work as happy as ever. part one

@thewaythisis @ohpedromypedro @oberynispunk @ithinkwehitametaphor

@pedropascalito @takemepedropascal @pedropascalownsmyheart

@poenariuniverse @pisss-offf-ghostt @abuttoncalledsmalls @thisis-theway 

@scout-134 @gamingaquarius @dornish-queen​ @javierpenaaddiction​

[melyaliz]

Remeber me chapter 2

Master List 

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x OC 

Notes: Special thanks to everyone who has supported this story so far! I see every like and comment and it brings so much joy to my life. 

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

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-0-0-- Bakugou --0-0-

“Welcome and thank you for joining us today,” The pretty brunette said, her dark hair pulled back in a soft bun. Bits of purple and pink twisted in and out of it. Her bright hazel eyes scanned the room as she stood in front of them all. Her Japanese was a bit rough but the joyful laugh and unassuming attitude made it all seem rather.

Cute.

Not that Bakugou noticed.

This was a little more preoccupied with the fact that all of this was such a waste of time. They had come to California to help with the spike in earthquakes and fires. Millions of homes and lives had already been lost, to the point that the US had reached out to other heroes to come and help. The border between San Diego and Mexico where he, Kirishima, and some water-based guy from Mexico had been stationed, had been affected the worst. But there had been other patches up the coast that needed help which was where Kaminari, that vine chick from their UA days were going to be stationed.

Although right now all Japanese speaking heroes were crammed in this small conference room listening to this young woman explain how health benefits worked and other “important” insurance things.

“Obviously there will be property damage but we just want to make sure you all understand what to do if anything happens to you, a victim or…” she paused a bit of smile flickering across her deep red lips as if thinking of a joke, “other stuff. It’s not your job to tell people what to do after you help them but, they will probably have questions which is what we are here for. Plus knowledge is power right?'' The last bit was said in a bit of a sing-song voice the playful smirk that had been on her face broke into a wide grin. Chuckling to herself she quickly switched the slide. “Nope? ok,” she muttered in English before continuing.    

“Man she’s pretty cute,” Kaminari said leaning forward in his seat whispering in Bakugou’s ear. Number 2 hero waved his annoying ex-classmate away. Honestly, somethings never changed.

“Aren’t you engaged?” Kirishima chuckled under his breath.

From the front, the young woman paused giving them a thumbs-up as she finished her presentation, “So that’s that, Any questions?”

It was followed by silence. Bakugou sighed rubbing his temples, “When are all these stupid presentations going to be over?” Next to him, his best friend elbowed his ribs.

“Geez man be cool.”

However the woman’s smile didn’t waver, in fact, she laughed lightly. “Welcome to America, but we do need you out there as soon as possible. And let’s be honest you guys are going to forget all this in the heat of battle.” she gestured to the packets they were holding, “So if you have any insurance-related questions my card is there. If I don’t have the answer I will find out.”

“Ok” Getting up Bakugou stood the other heroes standing up. The vine girl rolled her eyes at him.

“You don’t have to be rude, she’s just doing her job”

Glancing over at the woman Bakugou saw her packing her stuff up laughing and talking with the guy who she had come with. Totally unfazed and already moved on to the next thing. Something about her attitude stuck with him. It was so different. Normally he would get some sort of reaction from people around him -mostly annoyance- but not this woman. It wasn’t like she was ignoring him, more like agreeing with him making it into a joke. But like him, she was done with the presentation and moving on.

It was unexpected in a way he didn’t realize he had expected anything else until it didn’t happen.    

Also, her laugh was kind of cute. As if she found just about everything amusing.

Shrugging Bakugou led the rest of the team out already forgetting the insurance chick. He had a more pressing issue to deal with. As the woman -whatever her name was he had instantly forgot after she had introduced herself- they were needed as soon as possible.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

“We are here” Bakugou’s voice was soft as he lead Olive into the large apartment. The ride home had been silent, Olive’s face pressed up against the car window taking in the bright city lights. Her hazel eyes wide as if she was trying to take it all in and commit it to memory.

That same wide-eyed look was on her face as she looked around the apartment. As if she was taking it in for the first time and had not lived there for more than two years.

“Wow,” she whispered, “this place is amazing .”

The sound of a soft meow broke through her haze and for the first time ever Bakugou couldn’t help but be grateful to see the fluffy gray and white cat walking up to greet them.

“I… I have a ragdoll!?!” it was the first time since this whole situation started she sounded excited. Of course, that cat would bring her happiness. Bakugou couldn’t help but think back to the first time he had brought the little thing home. It had been a Christmas gift two years ago and Olive had literally started crying with excitement when he had added the little fluff ball to her. Ever since that day the two had been inseparable. To the point that if Bakugou wanted some alone time, he needed to lock that fluff ball outside their bedroom.

“Yeah he’s ok” Bakugou sighed looking down at the pretty cat that was purring around Olive’s legs just begging for all the attention. Letting out a soft coo Olive bent down picking him up giving him a kiss on the head.  

“What’s her name? Oh my god, I love her so much,” she said, a half-hearted smile on her face as she scratched the cat.

It was a simple question but it hurt so much. Something about it making his heart feeling three times too heavy. “Dolomite, I wanted shitty kitty but you said no.”

She chuckled picking up Dolomite who just lay in her arms purring. That cat was so dramatic, acting like he hadn’t seen her in years when it had only been about a day.  

“I have a type,” Olive mumbled as she kissed the cat again her eyes finally meeting Bakugou’s. Bakugou froze, his heart-stopping. Since the hospital, she had been unable to look at him. A few awkward glances but this was the first time he felt like she was really looking at him. He knew she was comparing him to her late husband.

Eliott.

Over the years she didn't really talk much about Eliott. But Bakugou knew there were remnants of that man etched in her whole being. From the things, she said to the jokes she would tell. After years of coming to terms with the woman, he had fallen in love with had been in love with someone else Bakugou had learned to appreciate Olive’s bits that were given to her from that other man. He had realized a lot of those little things he loved about her were better because of what she had gone through.

But now everything was different.

Now it was like all he could see was Eliott. As if the Olive who had been in love with Bakugou, the one who had healed from a year’s distance from the death of her first love was gone. In her place was this broken girl who had just lost her love.

He hated it, feeling so out of control. So unable to help her. To show her that their relationship had been just as -if not more- wonderful than that one.

“This is so… man” she sighed, breaking through his thoughts as she turned slowly walking further into the apartment. Dolomite lounging in her arms blinked slowly up at her adoringly basking in the attention he was getting as she aimlessly walked around. Watching her Bakugou realized she had no idea where she was going.

“Here,” Bakugo said, reaching out his hand, taking her arm. She flinched slightly jumping at the contact. It pierced him like a knife twisting hard in his heat.

Shit.

He clenched his jaw trying to keep his temper in check. All he wanted to do was grab her and shake her until she remembered. He knew it wasn’t her fault, that it wasn’t anyone’s fault. That fact, in and of itself made him even angrier. There was no one to punch the problem out of. No one he could blast for making her this way. The doctors weren’t sure why she had forgotten everything. In fact, they had been ready to let her leave earlier until she started crying and asking why she was in Japan.

Kirishima had suggested interrogating the robbers who had been at the mall and see if any of them had quirks that could alter memories. It was the only explanation they had to go off of. Nothing else made sense.

Until then here he was. Being angry at no one and unable to navigate his emotions with a woman who had no idea who he was. Letting out a long sigh he nodded toward the hallway that lead to the bedroom, office, and gym.

“Come on you can shower and stuff,” he said leading her toward the bedroom. She followed behind silently, the only sound was her soft footsteps and Dolomite’s purring.

“We live here, in Tokyo?” she whispered finally placing the cat down as he opened the bedroom door. He nodded.

“Yep.”

“Wow” her soft voice came up behind him as she looked around the large bedroom. Dolomite, knowing bedtime was near, lept from her arms to the floor before making his way to the low bed that stood in the middle of the room.

The room was clean and modern, a few pictures hung on the walls, one of them being of their wedding. Walking toward it Olive looked up at the two people smiling down at her. Bakugou watched her as she studied it. His heart picking up, maybe…

“Fuck” it was soft and he had no idea what she meant by that. As she turned he saw her eyes were glassy, her hands ringing unsure what to do with them. Looking around she tried to find anything but him to focus on.

Fuck, his thoughts echoing her words. Was she going to cry again? He didn’t know if he could deal with it if she did.

“You sleep here, I will sleep in your office,” he said quickly trying to distract her from whatever was overwhelming her at the moment.

“I have an office?” her voice cracked slightly. Her eyes met his in surprise and maybe a glint of .. was that excitement?    

“Tomorrow, you need to rest,” he said walking toward the large walk-in closet that was separated by a wall behind the bed. She followed him peeking into the large space as he grabbed some sweatpants. There were blankets and extra pillows in the hall. He needed to get away from her for a second. Maybe she just needed to sleep off whatever was going on.

Maybe his happy little badass Olive would wake up.

Nodding Olive peeked into the closet and it dawned on Bakugou he couldn’t just leave her. She didn’t know where anything was.

Letting out an annoyed sigh he brushed past her grabbing a large tee shirt and some fresh underwear for her thrusting them a little harder than he should into her stomach. She looked down at them and then back at him.

“The other door is the bathroom. Towels are on a rack and all your stuff is in the shower,” he said.  

She took the items from him nodding glancing at the bed. “I can sleep in the other room… or I don’t know…” she was struggling unsure what to do or say. Memories of the first time she came to visit him in Japan came rushing back. Such a strong contrast from this moment. Instead of timidly following him she had been running around his fancy skylight penthouse making fun of just about everything she could find.

“Oh my god… do you have three of the same jacket?”

“What!?! I liked it. And they are not the same! This one is Denim this one is cotton… where are you going?”

“Why are your sheets black?” she giggled looking down at his bed.

“Why are you making fun of my sheets?”

“Well look at me Mr. moody hero boy with my black sheets ” she giggled throwing herself onto his bed. He watched her trying to be annoyed as she poked fun. Sitting up she tried to give him a sexy look, eyes squinting, “I’m Mr sexy black sheets.”

“Oh are you now?” he said walking up to her looking down. “And what color are your sheets Miss America?”

“You know, basic bitch shit. White, turquoise, oh and I have some cool red tribal ones too. Wow, these are so soft” she distracted herself petting his sheets.

“They are 800 threat count," he said leaning forward loving the sight of her in his bed. Their long-distance relationship was fine but having her here meant they could do a few things they couldn’t before. Things he was ready to do the moment she had walked off that airplane.

“So fancy,” she whispered that playful smile still on her lips as he closed the distance between them.

“Only the best” he mumbled before kissing him.

“Katsuki?” the sound of his name brought him back as he looked down at her, she stood there holding the clothes now by the bathroom door, “Thank you,” she said softly. Her eyes down at her feet. Grunting he shrugged heading toward the hallway.

“Whatever, just get some rest.”

“Ok… good night… Katsuki.” the way she said his name. So foreign on her tongue.

He hated it.

He hated all of this.

-GET TAGGED!-

Story Tag: @0hmydeku @inumorph @it-jinxed-us @myraticm

[daisy--sorbet]

heyyy, hope you’re having a good night!! if you have the energy and feel okay answering, what’s up w taz graduation? i haven’t checked it out yet but i was thinking ab it. just asking bc you’re the first person i saw talk ab the show having serious issues, but also feel free to not answer this!! hope you have a good week!

i took a nice hot bath, had a strawberry kiwi capri-sun, and did a nice face mask and i’m feeling pretty good - so, y’know what anon? let’s talk about it. 

for anyone who likes taz grad who sees this post: it’ll be tagged with “taz grad hate” (although i feel hate is definitely a very strong word - it’s for the simplicity of tagging it) - so please block the tag if you don’t want to see this post (especially because i put a readmore on a post before and it didn’t show up on mobile and instead gave the full post). mobile tumblr has a tag blocking system, so please feel free to use it! i don’t mind haha

anyway, so this is... probably going to be a lost post, and i wanna go ahead and preface it: this absolutely isn’t any hate on the mcelroys themselves. i love the brothers and their dad a lot, and while i doubt any of them would ever see this (or have it sent to them, or shown to them, because im pretty sure they try to distance themselves from this sort of thing), i just want to make it clear that criticizing a product is different than bashing a person. which brings me to the point of if i do end up sounding as if im bashing someone - please call me out on it! it’s not my intention to target anyone.

with that said, let’s talk about this campaign.

so my problems are as thus: the railroading, the shipping (a fandom problem, but it’s present in the podcast), the NPCs, and some misc problems others have addressed better than i have.

which. i know. that’s basically the entire podcast. (i promise i’ll bring up some positive points to balance it all out). keep in mind i’ve only personally listened to... what, six episodes? and it was enough for me to drop it. some people dropped it first ep, some dropped it ep four, and others are still forcing themselves to listen.

the railroading

there was a time i could handle travis and his railroading [making sure the story goes exactly the way he has planned], because it was the very beginning of the podcast and that’s what you can kind of expect from a plot-heavy podcast. hell, i wouldn’t mind it if the interactions and goofs weren’t a huge part of why i listen to TAZ in particular (which, by the way, is why amnesty still stuck out to me - even if there was a direction griffin wanted to push them towards, the interactions between the players (or players and npcs) made up for any railroading). it’s kind of hard to not railroad a little when it’s story-heavy and you’re trying to built up a world that you’ve put a lot of thought into. however, a huge part of d&d is the spontaneity. 

it’s kind of why i think balance was so popular. while there was railroading towards the end, there was the presence of improv that made it all good. most mcelroy content is enjoyed because of the goofs. the magic brian moment is memorable. the jenkin’s fight still stands out because it was funny (albeit a result of some bad rolls). the boys teasing angus sticks out because the four would play well off of each other. even without that - griffin had talked about how he had to roll with things (the fact he had planned for a fight atop the train, but ditched the idea for what his family members came up with instead). even in amnesty, a couple moments that stick out to me still are ned with the jetpack taking out a pizza hut sign, and the scene with the water where jake was trapped inside. they aren’t as fun, but they still stand out as “things i didnt expect to really end the way they did.”

with grad, it’s just. one after another. the thundermen want to subpoena a xorn? cool, let’s run with that until actually the xorn gets fed rocks and goes home and who cares about the subpoena now. fitzroy wants to keep his cloak? lets talk about it for a while and you also get no rolls to even try to keep it. fitzroy goes to meet higglemas in his office? oh, why are you here fitzroy? im going to keep asking you until you answer fitzroy? you arent getting out of this scene until you answer me, fitzroy, so just tell me why you’re here already, alright, fitzroy? 

and even later in a episode i read a transcript of: hey argo, remember how you have this whole secret motivation? fuck you, im gonna talk about it here in your dream and reveal it to listeners and remove any tension you had building up, and you dont get a choice to talk about it because this all-knowing villain knows all about it :)

and even NOW in the latest episode, there’s a comment that “we should cap argo’s skills here” instead of just... making the checks higher. rogues are good at certain things and usually arent the best in battles. better hope argo never makes it to level 11, because who knows how people are gonna handle the fact that he gets a skill that’ll make it so certain skills can’t have a roll below 10 (reliable talent). 

(griffin, thankfully, calls travis out for that, but still - travis, why would you even imply that, considering you should be aware of how rogues work considering magnus multiclassed into rogue and you played one on tiny heist?)

and in the newest episode, their Big Bad chaos (which, god, i personally hate that name) straight-out says “dont do this” to the thundermen. travis tries to say, on twitter, “a character saying “dont do this” is different than me saying it” but i need to point out that it’s one thing if you’ve said “no” in character but worked with the PCs doing otherwise, but the railroading says differently.

the shipping

ill try to make this quick, because it’s nothing to do with the fandom (ship however you want, man) - but i really feel the need to draw attention to this.

fitzroy, as confirmed by griffin in a ttazz episode, is asexual. not aroace, but ace nonetheless. and i find it... troublesome that the idea of rainer and fitzroy having a relationship is still pushed nonetheless, despite the fact that fitzroy (to my knowledge) was never once shown to reciprocate any feelings. not to be that person, but i really hope that grad doesnt have any sort of romantic relationships in it (at least - not between NPCs and PCs unless they’re actually like... warranted?). 

i dont know, man. one of my closest friends is ace, and i know she wants a relationship, but i think it would reassure her a lot to see an ace character who isn’t pushed into one in case she ever changes her mind. someone once mentioned that they hope fi/tz/ra/in doesnt happen because theres relationships that have that “oh, you can just date” and it goes upwards there to “oh, you can have sex just to please them <3″  (which, to be honest, is kind of a gross mindset - if someone isnt interested, they arent interested).

also, uh, the TTAZZ where griffin states this, there’s kind of the mention tht the whole sexuality question was posed in relation to the episode “creative thinking” (the dream one i mentioned earlier) - which. uh. i don’t know if anyone caught this, but... rainer straight-up wrote fitzroy a letter in the dream like “are you going to accept my proposal? a girl doesn’t like to be left waiting” which. leaves me with some gross feelings because uh.

if... if the whole thing about fitzroys sexual orientation was addressed here, then why would you push your ship anyway? feels kinda iffy, man.

to which i want to say: fitzroy can date. he’s allowed to date. griffins allowed to do whatever he wants with his character. but when a lot of the flirting is met with nothing, i’m not gonna see the chemistry there. just because travis ships it doesn’t mean it’s canon.

the npcs

ah yes. lets talk about the npcs.

there’s... a lot. a lot a lot. i think travis trimmed down how many were present in a scene, but uh. there’s still a lot. and... uh... i kinda wish there wasn’t?

look, i know im going back to balance/amnesty, but just. hang in there for a moment. chill with me. vibe. 

balance didnt have too many NPCs present at all times in each mini-arc. gerblins had some big names like barry, klarg, gundren, killian, yeemick, and magic brian. rockport limited had angus, jess, graham the juicy wizard jenkins, and all of the tom bodetts mentioned. 

amnestys first arc had mama, barclay, jake, dani, pigeon, kirby, minerva, and that was about it for like. big names? and not all of them were present in each scene. 

in the first episode of grad alone: gary, hernandez, jimson, rolandus, zana, rhodes, buckminster eden, rainer, leon, tomas, hieronymous, higglemas, stuart, jackle, bartholomeus, mulligan, groundsy, germaine/victoria/rattles (the skeleton crew). and those are the ones i wrote down (minus groundsy, who i just. ignores. idk him).

like holy shit, my english prof got onto me for having too many characters in my first chapter and i didnt even have half the amount listed there! 

it’s just a huge cast. does this take place in a school? yes! theres bound to be a lot of students present - but you don’t have to name every single one of them, at least not in the first episode!

the miscellaneous

i don’t know if travis ever actually addressed it, but wheelchair users have actually like... said that rainer’s introduction bothered them, because she was like “please ask me abt my wheelchair :)” when travis saying she was in an ornate chair would have sufficed. 

uh. the colonization vibes people have discussed within the centaur arc. mentioned here, the replies here, and this post (and its replies) here as well.

the overall lack of d&d when the campaign was kind of advertised as a return to d&d if i remember correctly

also no one seems to be taking literally any criticism at all which like. ignoring the petty shit, sure, but people have stopped donating to taz and their listener-ship must have dropped some during this entire time - you’d think that maybe someone could say “we need to find out why people dont like the thing and fix the thing” consider this is. yknow. their livelihood.

anyway uhhh 

tl;dr: travis railroads way too much (even now), the shipping in-game has become pushy and gross (especially bc its shoving a relationship onto an asexual character), theres too many npcs that dont stand out well enough, and no ones taking any criticism about the major issues with grad. 

[risingfire17-the-weeb-trash]

The Ones Who Walk Away- Chapter 5- Memory Meets Reality

Yoosung has a lot of questions about Luciel and how he’s related to the strange boy from his past, but neither Luciel nor Rika will give him any answers! Will he find some if he goes back to the cathedral where it all started?

               He told me his name and then left.

                 But he told me his name.

                 Rika and Jihyun came home shortly after Luciel left, which didn’t give me much time to process everything that had just happened. Not sure what to make of the whole situation, I decided not to bring it up. I couldn’t figure out why, but I didn’t yet feel comfortable telling Rika anything that had happened with Luciel. Not until I’d had a chance to sort things out.

                 And of course, on the way home, she asked me, “Did everything go all right with the computer repair guy?”

                 “Yeah, I gave him the envelope like you said.”

                 “How did he seem to you?” I had really hoped she would leave it at making sure he got his payment. Besides, why did she care about anything else? Well, she did know him. He had said that. But how did she know such a strange boy?

                 “Lu-“ I stopped short of saying his name. Why was I struck with a sudden dread of saying his name?

                 The way he whispered it to me like he didn’t dare let anyone else hear.

                 “I’m sorry I can’t tell you my name. It really is a secret.” The words he had so desperately spoken four years ago.

                 And could I not even trust Rika?

                 “That boy does not exist.” She had said that back then.

                 “L-look, I was kind of busy with my homework. I’m sorry I didn’t pay closer attention.”

                 Rika paused, scanning me, and I hung my head in what I hoped she thought was shame at my carelessness. After a moment, she sighed with a smile.

                 “English?”

                 “Yeah.”

                 “That always was your worst subject. Did it go okay?”

                 “Yeah, I think I’m getting better!”

                 “That’s great, Yoosung!” We drove in silence for a while. When we pulled in front of my house, Rika stopped me from exiting the car. “Yoosung.” Her voice sounded hesitant.

                 “Yeah?”

                 “You’ll be seeing more of him from now on. Be careful around him.” Be careful? What did she mean? Was Luciel dangerous? If he was, then why would he be in Rika’s house?

                 “The computer guy? Why?”

                 She gave me a bright smile that had always reassured me, but somehow fell short of that now. “That boy’s lead a troubled life, but he has so much potential. So I’ve been helping him. He’s a little rough around the edges. Please don’t hold it against him; he’s trying so hard. But be careful, okay?”

                 “Oh, okay!” Was that all? She thought I would be afraid of him because he was a little awkward? Okay, maybe I was a bit, but I also wanted to give him a chance. Especially if he was someone Rika was trying to help! I left her car almost completely assured of the situation, until I remembered, once again, her words from four years ago:

                 “That boy does not exist.”

                 Well, she hadn’t known him back then. He said he hadn’t gone to her church until two years ago. But why had she been so insistent? The way she’d said those words, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself more than me that he didn’t exist. Or like she was trying to hide his existence?

                 No. Rika wouldn’t lie to me. She was just afraid for my health, convinced I had imaginary friends at my age. That was the first time she’d doubted me, and it had hurt so much. Looking back, that’s also when I lost the one person I could tell everything to. And somewhere in the midst of my pain and effort to never be rejected by her again, I started to believe that red-haired boy really was some sort of dream. Everything about that encounter had certainly been fantastical enough.

                 But then that boy had reappeared in my life and made me question everything all over again. I was thoroughly convinced Luciel was the boy I had ditched Sunday school with all those years ago, though he insisted we’d never met before now. Or maybe he just didn’t want to tell me. He was just as secretive now as he was back then. And I was too afraid of Rika’s reaction to ask her of the connection between her computer guy and the boy she’d insisted was in my head.

                 Rika said he’d had a troubled life. I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but it did explain some things that didn’t add up about him back then. Like the tattered clothes. The unkempt hair. The way he roamed the city with no adult like it was the most natural thing in the world. And the way he seemed like he was hiding from someone. Maybe a lot of someones.

                 But who did he have to be hiding from to fear telling anyone his name? The police? Was he a criminal? No, Rika would never let a criminal in her house, no matter how much she wanted to help them. Besides, he was around my age. How could a 10-year-old be a criminal?

                 Besides, for all his confidence that had so enraptured me when I was 10, behind it he seemed…afraid. It had flashed across his face a few times back then, but I had not recognized it at the time. When I tried to stop him from leaving the church. When I tried to stop him from leaving me behind. When he had sent me inside that store. And four years later, he still had a spark of that fear. When I recognized him. And when I asked about his past. There was a moment, before he turned the entire thing into a joke, where he looked into my eyes, absolutely terrified. In that moment, I probably would have done anything to ease his fear.

                 I’d never been so overcome with a desire to pull someone close before. But at that time, that’s exactly what I had wanted: to keep him so close to me that whatever he was afraid of couldn’t possibly touch him. What would have happened next if I had? Would his chest against mine feel warm? Would he rest his head on my shoulder? Let me run my fingers through his soft curls? Would he look at me with trust in his bright eyes? Would he pull me even closer and…

                 No. I would not let that scene keep playing in my head past that point. He’s a guy; I should not be thinking like that! Even though something about it felt…familiar. Like my mind was trying to replay a forgotten memory just beyond my reach. Or more likely that my stressed and lonely mind was seeking escape in anything it could find, no matter how messed up!

                 I think it was safe to say I had developed an unhealthy fixation on Luciel. During the time I should have been thinking of nothing but my studies for the entrance exams, thoughts of him kept invading my mind. I kept asking myself the same questions about him again and again when I should be focusing on review questions.  And those weird daydreams didn’t stop. Great; if I failed my entrance exams, not only would I live in the shame of having fallen short of my family’s expectations, but it would all be because I was thinking like a hom- no; I couldn’t even think the word!

                But somehow, I did get into the high school I had aimed for. With exams finally over, I could let out the breath I had been holding and relax for the rest of middle school. At least, I could put my test stress to rest. That did nothing to solve my problem of obsessively thinking of a certain redhead. And I highly doubted the month-long break before high school would, either.

                 Especially when Rika asked me to volunteer at a church event. The event seemed simple enough. It was a door-to-door drive to sell tickets to a fundraising event. Annoying, lots of rejection in store, but simple. What wasn’t simple, however, was that I spent the entire week leading up to the event wondering if Luciel would be there. He had told me he went to her church, after all.

                  And what made it even less simple was that he was there. And he was nothing like what I expected. Given his secrecy and unconventional behavior, I figured he would be a something of a recluse. However, he was…dazzling. He spoke to everyone with a smile that lit up the whole cathedral. He joked, he shook hands, he clapped backs, he moved in a confident manner that charmed everyone around him. And there were a lot of people around him; he seemed quite popular around here. And those who weren’t talking to him were talking about him.

                 “Oh my, Luciel is looking so handsome today! Don’t you think, Hana?”

                 “Yeah! I wish I could be his partner for the donation drive!”

                “Now, now, you know it would be improper for a boy and girl to pair up! Indecent things could happen!”

                “Oh I would certainly hope so!”

               “Goodness, calm down! I’ll have to go to confession just for hearing this!”

                “As if you aren’t thinking the same thing, Yoonah!”

                 Pfft. I may not have been here in a long time, but I remembered Hana and Yoonah. They pretended to be so pious, but they were bullies and gossips of the worst caliber. I bet Luciel would see right through their pathetic show. Not that I cared.

                Because I was quite angry with Luciel. Because he was a liar. He had told me his name was a secret, but everyone here knew it. Of course they did. People didn’t make secrets of their names. It was just a stupid joke. But I fell for it. I let myself believe that I was special to him in some way. Just for knowing his name. Man, how stupid could I get? I had wasted months thinking about this guy who saw me as nothing more than the butt of a sick joke! All his jokes were sick! He was sick! I wanted nothing to do with him ever again!

                “Yoosung!” Crap. I tried to pretend I hadn’t heard him, but he ran to catch up to me, throwing a jovial arm around me and giving me that self-assured grin that had already taken up way too much of my headspace. I tried not to think about that, or about how radiant his eyes looked, or how you could really tell how in shape he was in his well-fitted white button-up shirt and black slacks.

                “Long time no see, Yoosung!”

               “Yeah, well, I had entrance exams to study for.”

               “Ah! I heard you got into the best school around! Rika’s been telling everyone for weeks!” At the mention of my cousin, I was even more pissed off. Was this guy playing Rika the way he had played me?

               “Funny she’d tell you. She never tells me anything about you.” I didn’t even bother keeping the vitriol out of my voice.

               “Um, is everything okay?” His convincing look of concern made me even angrier.

               “Why don’t you tell me? I spent all this time worried if you were okay, thinking you were in some kind of trouble so bad you couldn’t even tell people your name! But clearly that’s not true!” I waved my hands at him and then at the rest of the church in an attempt to convey my incoherent anger.

                He seemed to get it though. And for once his calm demeanor dropped; his brow furrowed, and his gaze fell to the floor. “You…were worried for me?”

                I laughed harshly. He wasn’t going to get me back under his thumb with just a wrinkled face. “Stupid, right? Stupid Yoosung fell for your stupid joke and almost actually cared for you. What a waste, right?” I started to walk off. I needed some time to cool down before the tears came. It was a most annoying habit of mine; I cried when I was angry. I couldn’t stand it because it was so unmanly, but once the tears came on, there was no stopping them. I certainly wasn’t about to let Luciel see me cry.

                 Except he did. Because he didn’t let me escape. Instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me back around. My face flew up to look up at his in shock. And he looked into my eyes, right as my tears started to fall. Now my anger was overshadowed by a feeling of being exposed. Was I ashamed? Was I afraid? I didn’t know how to feel, and I found myself searching his face for answers.

                His mouth opened. It quivered some, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t figure out what. He stared at me with wide eyes that looked…sad? Remorseful? Yes, that was it. But under that, there was fear in those eyes. It was that fearful look of his that haunted me, that look that made me want to uncover every last secret of his so I could protect him from them.

                He finally spoke, his soft whisper unlike anything I had seen from him today. Or, well, ever. “Yoosung. Be my partner today.”

               Was this another joke? It had to be. Everything that came out of this guy’s mouth was just some sick joke. Right? Or was there something underneath all the jokes? Gah, why was I still thinking like this?! He would just make a fool of me again! I would regret getting more involved with him; I knew I would!

                 “Okay.”

[mikhaelkosanik]

Chapter 3 (google translate)

My office was located in the old part of the library. Many years ago this building was enough. Then Brumaltown was only restored after a wave of migration. But gradually the city grew, and a small house was not enough to store all the books. The authorities rebuilt a new public library in the city center, and dividing this into two parts, they gave it to private practices and the Grasse Foundation. While working, I occasionally saw Kathleen Grass, the youngest of Emma's children. She brought valuable documents to the archive and personally entered the materials into the file cabinet. Apart from her, no one could do this: Eliot and Emma died almost twenty years ago, and their eldest son Eugene was developing for the treatment of the virus. He was not up to the papers. As a result, Emma’s children shared responsibilities: the son was engaged in science, and the daughter in the fund of assistance and archives.

Kathleen was happy with everything: from childhood, she had seen what difficulties her mother had faced and what kind of ostracism she was subjected to. Science was not given to her either, and everyone noticed this: from parents who encouraged any undertakings of children, to teachers. And although the fund hired volunteers from time to time, they were not full-fledged assistants. Funding had severe restrictions: all donations went to meet the needs of patients and small salaries of those same volunteers. I knew this, because the Grasse Foundation collaborated with FVP and provided them with quarterly reports.

At first I was surprised that volunteers were paid money, but then I realized why: the fund worked not only in the states, but also around the world. His activities were equated with the Salvation Army or the Red Cross from the past. Because of this, few people went to such work, and there were always not enough hands. It was rumored that the fund even sometimes offered those works that were not directly related to risk as socially useful work. For example, all the same work in the archive. But recently, this has not helped.

The library was the best choice: it was hidden behind massive trees in the depths of the largest city park. Silence - and only rare visitors distracted from work, embarrassing applicants. Sometimes people came to me with such problems, which it’s a shame to admit even to ourselves, not like outsiders. Over the years, I have seen a lot. FVP did not like it, but everything tripled me. Without an eternal eye, working on your head was easier. And besides, part of the library was given to the archive, which also drove idle onlookers from this place, because they did not care about “some kind of documents there”.

When meeting, Kathleen gave me access, provided that I would check the operation of the equipment in the archive. She rarely came, busy with no less important matters, and it was extremely difficult to remotely check the archive. Looking for at least someone who will often visit this place, Miss Grasse asked for my help. The work is simple and easy - of course, I agreed.

Before, another employee worked with me, and we went upstairs one by one. But time passed, and Dale was promoted, moving to work in a private school for Eno. I was left alone among the books, dust and noise of the archive fans. This weighed, and at the same time saved: it was easier for me to experience my grief alone than in full view of others.

The caller came a little earlier and was waiting for me near the entrance. “This is good,” I said, recalling what other times there were clients.

More than once or twice, I came across those who called, begged for help, made an appointment, but never came. There were people who called three to four times, but found excuses not to visit a psychologist. So with all desire it was impossible to help.

“The costs of work,” I consoled myself, trying not to think about the bad. “I can't force them, after all!”

The current visitor nevertheless found the strength to come to the appointment, for which I was very grateful to him.

It turned out to be a tall, tight, though not complete, man in a strict business suit with a bright spot - a tie.

His stern facial expression with small wrinkles, barely noticeable on pale skin and cold evil eyes burned through me, hinting that the owner is not one of those people who blindly trust others.

“Eh, the consultation will be difficult,” I said immediately, hurrying up to the front door and standing next to the stranger.

The gestures of the applicant were smooth, but verified and very mean. I noticed this when the man turned to me. Like he was hiding something. This reminded me of the equilibrists in the circus - they just as carefully and smoothly moved, walking along a thin rope over the abyss gaping beneath them.

Approaching, I hastened to extend a hand to the expectant, noting the smell of cigars and "burnt" skin, mixed with subtle touches of cologne. My observation was confirmed: the stranger shook my hand tightly and gestured that it was worth continuing the conversation elsewhere.

Opening the door and minting a few steps on the bright tile, we went into the office near the entrance. Once there was a children's reading room. I really liked that from those times there were drawings on the walls and shelving with books. Many of them were written off, and I just took the books to myself, making excuses that I would read these tales to either my sister or my nephews.

We were greeted by a spacious room in blue and light yellow tones. I did not touch much, because it did not stop me from doing serious work. In addition, children's drawings and the situation itself sometimes said: for me there are no children's problems - there is a misunderstanding between children and adults.

When the visitor and I settled down in comfortable chairs left over from the past, he proceeded to the story.

“My name is Eric Coleman,” the man began, continuing to drill me with a heavy look from beneath his bright wide and straight eyebrows. - Your number was given at the hospital. It so happened that my daughter began to hurt herself.

- How long have you noticed this behavior? - the bright office tuned for a peaceful manner, and I hoped that I would be able to find out the details. I understood that, while working for the ZSC, I did not arouse the confidence of the newcomer, but still relied on his consciousness.

“Just yesterday,” Eric spoke calmly, his pose not expressing excitement, but I understood that this was not entirely true.

The one sitting opposite me seemed a strong-willed, decisive person, maybe even tough and straightforward. It shone through in his precise and dry manner of speech, in the article and direct posture. And although the man was large, which only added severity to his mind, he spoke surprisingly emotionless and calm. It’s just dry, as if stating the facts from some encyclopedia.

How many people will immediately tell a stranger, albeit very famous in narrow circles, that his child hurts himself and, perhaps, is trying to commit suicide? I also did not know such. Sometimes I spent a good half of the session on a banal clarification of the situation and its circumstances ... if not the entire session.

  “Don't think, my daughter doesn't want to die,” Mr. Coleman remarked, guessing what I was thinking. - She inflicts wounds horizontally. If these were suicide attempts, she would inflict them differently.

- Selfharm? I asked. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Most likely,” Eric answered my question. “I saw the veins being cut,” the man ran a finger along the sleeve, showing a vertical section.

Here I was already thinking: I had many patients who tried to commit suicide. Often, adoptive parents did not even know about the depression of their children, turning after one or two unsuccessful suicide attempts. I was definitely not the kind of person who should prove the lack of such a motive in behavior. I had a selfie in my practice, but for a long time. And he was connected with completely different circumstances.

Eric immediately made a reservation that this is not the case. But perhaps he simply did not know all the circumstances?

Maybe his daughter did not know how to inflict wounds in order to die? Or maybe she did it to check if she could bear the pain or not. A case came to mind: a boy inflicted wounds long enough to prepare for pain. But, without talking to the child himself, I could not draw any conclusions. Maybe a man is really right and the wounds are just self-harm, not talking about the desire to die? True, the latest version cannot be completely discounted. Statistics inexorably told me that even ordinary self-harm could ultimately lead to suicide attempts.

“You said you were a pink family?” - I remembered the detail of yesterday’s dialogue. It was awkward to be silent for a long time, considering options that might actually not exist at all.

I knew very well that “pink” families are called families where one of the spouses belonged to the eno. Officially, enos were considered hermaphrodites, which was indirectly confirmed by the structure of the genital organs. But only indirectly. Not all enos were born like that. In addition, a biological evaluation took place at birth. Therefore, the Garth test was created. It consisted of two parts: a biological assessment, which is given to all children at birth, and a psychological assessment, passed at eight and fifteen years. Often I saw very young children who did not even pass special tests, with a marker of the third sex - a pink choker on their neck. Why they put on this attribute so early was a mystery to me. Only the Garth test finally put an end to the question of the gender of the child. More precisely, even a fifteen-year-old teenager. This is the official age when every third-sex citizen received documents with a special note.

Over the years, I have seen a wide variety of enos, from gentle and sweet, when looking at which it is impossible to believe that they are biological men, to completely brutal and strong. After all, biology remained biology, and the psyche does not always affect the appearance as we would like. Within the norm, at least.

The formation of the “pink” marriage took place even if not before my eyes, but I found the forerunners of the current liberalization. And I'm ready to put my hand on the Bible, swearing that now everything is more or less good!

When the first outbreak of the virus broke out in 2034, almost every government threw itself into creating a cure. These attempts to cure the Mehoni virus led to the discovery of the Encantant. It began to be used after the first clinical tests on cell cultures. There was no time for more serious research.

A side effect of the drug and became irreversible changes in the psyche of some men. For a long time, it was believed that “Encantant” was a kind of chemical lobotomy that changes gender awareness and disables sexuality. That is how eno appeared.

The institute of the “pink” marriage and the “pink” family took shape finally not so long ago, about 60 years ago. A crisis in the economy, a crisis in politics, a lack of resources, a lack of women - all contributed to the forerunners of the “pink” marriage. Even the church did not condemn this, with the proviso that the guys do not sleep with each other. In addition, in those years there was a definite base, both cultural and scientific, allowing for relations between people of the "same" gender.

Healthy girls then massively campaigned to give birth to children. They tried to ban abortion, legally require the birth of children under a certain age. But all this was before the war. After that, another misfortune appeared - the reduction of the population. Almost all governments quickly realized that, if they continue to restrict women, the economic crisis will lead to the collapse of the remnants of the past, and the reduction in DBV will completely destroy the economy, returning the world to the agrarian-feudal system.

During the years of devastation, the third sex did not bother anyone, and the problems of eno remained in the shade for some time. Everyone tried to restore what was left of the once great country, split in two. Moreover, the migration of survivors from dead lands has become a huge problem - both for the states and for the S.I.C. Amid a similar problem, the enos seemed inconsequential and were ignored. As, in fact, what is happening in the shelters of St. Elena for patients with the virus. No, shelters appeared long before the first bombs fell on the world. That's just not easier from this. And then, after the story of Emma Grass, society had to put up with the fact that there are patients with a virus dangerous to humans and they also have their own rights. Because of this, the institution of the “pink” family was created. This is the price that the vast majority of countries were willing to pay for the peace of their citizens. At least that's what I knew. After all, sick children and women had to be put somewhere.

In addition to the third sex, who married a man, there were female “pink” families, where both partners had a virus note in their documents. But there were very few of them, and in my practice I did not happen to meet them. Eno alliances with women were not considered “pink” because of biology. Moreover, such marriages steadily made up for the shortage of the third sex, because Enos could only give birth to their own kind.

I doubt that female "pink" couples formed a relationship from a good life. More likely because of ostracism and loneliness. There was no question of love.

I already had a certain practice in working with “pinks”. It was necessary to work in such families not only with children due to a number of legislative aspects, but also the characteristics of the enos themselves. Almost all eno, both according to my data and statistics, had a soft psyche, a compliant character and a very strong parental instinct. Often they were brought up very strictly and in places harshly. The first years of the FVP required the education of eno children in closed schools. Due to the artificiality of the third sex, after coming of age, graduates of closed schools were transferred to the jurisdiction of the SSC. Then eno accounting was very tough, they were considered as a resource, and I even found those times ... Well, yes, there were enough problems in society, the economy was rising from its knees, and we had to look for ways of least resistance.

At that time, “pink” marriages were most often the second for male widowers, and eno spouses were considered by them as an option for a free nanny for children and a housemaid. A kind of bonus for good service to the homeland. After all, someone should lead a life, take care of children, especially after overpopulation has begun. Because of it, the number of officially permitted marriages was limited. These almost had nothing to do with love or sex. No one was embarrassed by the consumer attitude towards eno. Yes, and they themselves put up with this, just to survive: almost all the knowledge of the third sex was reduced to housekeeping and caring for children. Just 25 years ago, everything was just that. In those days, the “pink” couples tried not to advertise the relationship after the wedding. Yes, and the WCC did not strongly advocate the openness of these families. Well, yes, they once engaged in the selection of couples for eno: it is unprofitable to advertise problems in such families. So there was a cult of silence.

It might seem that no other options existed, but this is not entirely true. There were parents who wished their children happiness regardless of gender. Yes, society imposed severe restrictions on the behavior of eno, on their ability to learn, live and work independently. But loopholes were even then. My couple, for example. He received a very good education and after college got a job as a teacher. For those years, it was just “unheard-of arrogance” on the part of Eno.

Today, in 2133, everything was different, although the sediment from those troubled times was still felt. Almost every show or program said that “pink” families are one of the pillars of society. From screens, posters and newspaper pages, Protection of family values ​​seemed to shout out its slogan: “A strong family is the key to a happy future!” First of all, this concerned precisely the “pink” families and eno spouses. And it is not surprising that such families turned to me in the most difficult and neglected cases ...

According to my information, officially in Brumaltown there was only one “pink” family, which did not want to make contact. The same girls who were infected with the Mehoni virus. This created additional problems. Most likely, you will have to work not only with the girl, but also with one of her parents.

“Yes,” the interlocutor answered, a little confused. Bitterness froze in his eyes. Then the amber flame flashed, and Eric added:

“But,” having paused, “we are not quite so.”

It was very important. Of course, I probably could not know what was meant, but certain assumptions nevertheless appeared.

With the onset of the liberalization period, a sufficiently large percentage of enos did not want to formalize any kind of relationship. Yes, and to join them, too, did not dare. It was easier for them to live apart than to follow the stringent requirements of society. My former colleague Dale, who worked directly in the educational center, also complained about it, and the top of the FVP expressed their complaints about this - this was regularly reported in the news. If we count the number of eno, then we get quite decent numbers of single citizens: approximately every fifth state citizen and every twelfth citizen of S.I.C were alone. For other countries, I did not have statistics and could only refer to these summaries.

As a result, the Defense even had to make concessions and allow lonely eno adoption if they met the requirements of agencies. To be more precise, the latter, it seems, was influenced by the Grasse Foundation, which could not endlessly sponsor orphanages and orphanages, where, in one way or another, children with the Mekhoni virus got into.

I involuntarily breathed a sigh of relief: I will have to be very careful both in communicating with the Coleman family and with the Family Values ​​Protection authorities, which, upon completion of work, I will add this case to my report. I couldn’t conceal customer data. No ethics could cover this!

“Good,” I finally remarked, scrolling through the foregoing in my mind, “come with your whole family.” I’ll try to find out the reason for your situation. Eric thanked me and left the office without saying another word. After his visit, I involuntarily recalled what I had been trying to escape from for thirty years. Alas, I knew firsthand what the “pink” family is.

***

The next day, the Coleman failed to arrive. Eric called and dryly warned me that due to busyness, the meeting would have to be rescheduled. I agreed. In terms of speech, it looked like the first time Eric’s husband had called me. Understanding the state of the Colemans, I was very afraid of meeting with members of this family.

During the weekly break, I thought for a long time whether to take a new family or not. “Pink” families had their own specifics, because of which working with them was extremely costly in terms of resources. I was not sure that my reserves in this case could be enough. Neurotization in such pairs always exceeded the average, and it was simply not always possible to reduce it. And without it, the whole workflow would turn into hell. In addition, I myself once had a “pink” pair, because of which I could somehow project my experiences onto strangers, which could also affect my work. And the worst thing was that if I took on this case, I would have to lie to the Protection of family values. It would affect me too. After all, I worked for this organization.

I was persuaded by Eunice to tackle this, always getting in where I didn’t need and loving to put her two cents in any of my business. True, it was she who said that only I can understand such a family and help, having a certain experience behind me.

“You understand that someone else will calmly report about them to FVP?” Or somewhere else! Can you imagine what it feels like? - the last argument of the sister was a shot at the bull's-eye.

She knew that I could not talk about something if they did not directly ask me, even though I myself worked for the Defense of Family Values. Therefore, “pink” families turned to me in the hope that I would not say too much. At least that was before.

"Okay. If I can’t help, I’ll try to find another specialist who can be trusted, ”I reassured myself, as I did in situations with missing clients.

Eric did not deceive and really came on the day off with his family. That day, the door of my office swung open, loudly and unpleasantly banging against the wall. For the first time they burst into me like this, and I was even taken aback by such things, having remained standing by the table.

A guy of a dry physique flew into the office in a whirlwind. Dressed in a crumpled T-shirt, well-worn trousers and a battered leather jacket, the guest reminded me of a huge stray dog ​​from distant childhood: the same one, beaten by the life of a rogue.

The guy’s eyes smiled, as if to spite the whole world, sparkling with excitement. It reminded me even more of our shaggy friend with Eunice. He also brazenly smiled at his mouth, wagging his tail and edible bulls at the guys in the neighborhood. And only by the small gray lock in the visitor's long tousled hair did I realize that the stranger had long been not a teenager or even a youth.

Rushing across the entire hall, he flew up to me and, holding out his hand, he rumbled:

  - Hi. Are you dock?

I did not want to respond to such familiarity. I was just about to speak out, looking around at the sloven, as Eric entered behind him in a heavy, measured gait. Behind him peered apprehensively a little girl in a closed dress and with an elegant scarlet bow on her head.

“You ...?” I asked in surprise.

- Adrian Coleman. I called you, - still holding out his hand, laughed "rogue." “This is my ...”, hesitating and less confident, “my husband, Eric.”

Then, pointing to the still hiding girl, he said: “And this is our daughter Rina.” The girl only embarrassedly smiled and waved my hand, hiding again behind the adult. She seemed against the background of high enough strong parents quite tiny and reminded me of a beast of galago. Especially with large purple eyes, a small nose and a bow, one to one like huge triangular ears.

“Good afternoon,” Eric greeted dryly again, sitting down in a chair and showing with a gesture that his partner should do the same.

Adrian sighed theatrically, but still sat next to his spouse. Rina initially also sat next to her parents, but soon she became interested in the environment. We started a conversation, during which at first Adrian spoke more, chattering about all sorts of nonsense and nonsense. In contrast, it looked comical: a groovy jerk with smiling eyes to the whole world, like a dog’s eyes, and a gloomy phlegmatic man, boring others with a stern look. That's for sure - opposites attract.

And I realized what Eric meant by saying that they are unofficially a “pink” family. Colemans simply did not formalize the relationship! It’s good that I didn’t start the report. Now I was free to write in it about the conversion of a single father. Then I thanked the Lord that there was still a code of ethics for the psychologist and I could refer to it if someone tried to find something in my documents. And reports often turned out to be simple formalities for archives. Therefore, I breathed a sigh of relief: I did not want to set up my clients at all.

Coleman's daughter, Rina, turned out to be a silent, slightly aloof girl. She really looked depressed and painful: she covered her face with hair, hid her eyes, even if only for the first time. When parents talked about themselves, Rina separated from us adults, sitting back on the floor and hugging her knees. Talking with the Coleman, I remembered Eric's first visit. The man seemed a stern, domineering man with a heavy look. Straight and cold. This impression was complemented by the manner of speech, not a bit changed in the presence of the family, and the same strict, even prim style in clothes, and even dry, verified gestures, in which almost no emotions slipped.

The only thing that stood out against this background was a hairstyle similar to a yellow dandelion, and a more or less bright tie (albeit combined with the main suit). It seemed that Eric was a stern, imperious tyrant, accustomed to keeping both his partner and daughter under control. But I was wrong. All three spoke very openly and warmly, which was also evidenced by the fact that Adrian was chattering non-stop, and Rina, seeing a bookcase with books, asked me for permission and went to look for something interesting for herself. None of the fathers limited her to this. He didn’t even say a word. When the girl got up, I noted that her walk was a little uneven. This was not evident, but the girl limped on her left leg. “Leg injury?” I thought. “Athlete?”

The men themselves, though a little nervous, tried to be as honest as possible with themselves and me. And although only Adrian spoke, and Eric was silent, I saw that the men were in solidarity with each other. In the circumstances, lying did not make any sense. The mental state of the child depended on my work and both parents understood this.

Not finding anything interesting among the books, the girl painted the whole meeting something in her album. Adrian said that she often draws various sketches and gives to her friends. This hobby replaced another, and both fathers were glad that their child had found a new interesting activity for themselves.

“It was very difficult for us to find something like this,” Adrian smiled awkwardly with his hand behind his head. - Rin, almost no one wanted to take in circles and sections.

“She does not look like a conflict person,” I thought again, casting a cursory glance at the girl immersed in the drawing. “Asperger Syndrome?”

After a short presentation, we talked about their problem and a little more on abstract topics. I made sure that all three of those who came relaxed and realized that I could be trusted. The whole conversation, as I noted, rested on Adrian. He enthusiastically talked about his hobbies, his daughter and Erica, noting any trifle. He was probably nervous because I was connected with the FVP, and thus tried to cope with the jitters. At first, I could not understand which of the parents in this pair is Eno. No one had a hoop on his neck, appearance, too, as I said earlier, was not always an indicator. But still, I noticed that Adrian’s behavior is a little more characteristic of Eno than his husband’s behavior. In any case, it was he who spoke more often about Rina and with great warmth.

As the atmosphere in my office became more laid-back, I suggested the Coleman play a little. First I needed to establish the level of aggression of all family members. Aggression is not always directed outward, and I, as a psychologist, understood this very well. It can also be directed inward, in other words, towards itself. This is exactly what happened with Rina. Cuts could be a sign of auto-aggression. I wanted to understand if this is true. For identification, the Wagner test was useful to me. However, I immediately stipulated the principle: everyone takes a piece of paper and writes his answer in this charade. And then he hands it to me. In fact, this test is not carried out, but I was not sure that I would meet all the family members again. I needed to understand: could Rina adopt the level of aggression from one of the parents, was this level high or not.

Eric just rolled his eyes, Adrian nodded, and Rina folded her hands and put them to her cheek, like children do during sleep. I regarded gestures with signs of consent. He began to show one hand drawings in different poses one by one, asking the same question: “What does this hand do?” This was the test. Looking at images of hands in various poses, patients talked about their personal associations, albeit subconscious. They kind of projected their emotions onto drawings with hands. The drawings themselves depicted only hands in one or another pose, without any context or background. Nothing complicated. Simple work of associations. But only in this case the test took a lot of time.

I showed one card and waited until everyone wrote something on my sheet. A couple of times I saw Adrian peeking at Eric or Rina's sheet and indignantly resented that this answer was incorrect. Well, the answer itself was not voiced, limiting itself to exclamations: “Nonsense!”, “But she doesn’t do that!” Now I understand why Rina left the fathers a little distance. Another test I offered was for her. As if in jest.

“Rina, you're an artist,” I remarked. - There is such a test, Lusher test. Do you know him?

The girl shook her head.

“Choose the colors you like best right now,” I laid out a few cards on the floor. - You can choose them yourself and put them in order from the most attractive to the least. Just choose them precisely according to the “like” principle, and not according to the principles of combination, tradition and other things. Good?"

Rina nodded and enthusiastically began to choose the colors she liked.

This test took very little time. A minute later, in front of me was a table of the following order of colors: blue-green, black, brown, dark blue, violet, red and orange. It turned out that on the one hand, Rina was a very confident girl, but on the other, her aggression most likely had an internal motive. This was evidenced by the dark colors that followed the first blue-green. Another tick in the direction of depression.

Due to the speed of choice, I had no doubt that it was made exactly as I requested, without any association with fashion or any traditions. The only thing, I still had a little doubt about the black color. Rina herself was dressed in a black dress with white ruffles. But I still decided to accept these results. Nobody bothers me then to conduct this test again as a control check.

After the charade, I invited the Coleman to tell the story of their family. It would be nice to get an anamnesis, because I could not rule out a single variant of the occurrence of such a state of my young patient. At that moment, Rina looked at her fathers and pointed to her album. She did not utter ten phrases for the whole meeting, plunging into her drawings.

“Exactly,” cried Adrian, “forgot!” You have a lesson in the studio today! Sorry, petty! ” Rina shook her head - they say it’s fearless to be a little late - and, taking her father's hand, she went to the door.

- I trust Eric! He is our family's walking encyclopedia! Will tell you everything! - shouted Adrian, hiding from sight.

“As always ...” Eric sighed, sitting comfortably in his chair. - He likes to shift concerns to me.

“And in my opinion, he trusts you very much,” I remarked, sitting opposite my interlocutor. - Can you tell how Rina appeared in your life? It will be very important for me now to know how your daughter grew up. Perhaps the reasons for her behavior are in some event from the past.

Another sigh - and my interlocutor was immersed in the memories of almost thirteen years ago.

[imaginesmai]

Ubbe-The sweet baker and the bad biker (SOA AU) (5-FINAL)

A lot of fluff and just a little angst for the final part @worldisadirtyplace, I hope you like it!

Plot: hospitals are not Ubbe’s favourite place.

Ubbe hated hospital. As a member of SAMCRO, he wasn’t really used to them. If they had a problem, they solved them in the club; because showing up in the hospital with a bullet wound usually led up to unwanted questions. The first time he got shot was when he was eleven; he had been working with his father in the club, messing around with Jax probably, when some masked guys appeared. They came in shooting and killed his little brother Sigurd and nearly him too. He didn’t remember much about it, just an immense pain in his side for weeks. As he sat in a chair with his arm in a plaster and his body in pain, he wished he would have been shot again. If it could get you back to him, he would get shot a thousands times. Hell, he was willing to sacrifice himself if you would be safe. But that wasn’t the case.

The doctor that had taken you away hadn’t come back yet. In the waiting room, all the sons were resting on a chair. Tig was filling his third cup of coffee, Chibs was sleeping in four chairs and Hvitserk was trying to comfort his brother the best he could. But no words could erase the memory of your scared eyes against his, begging him to do something. Someone cleared his throat in front of him.

“Ubbe.” he found Aslaug looking at him with kind eyes. “Tig has called me. How are you, baby?”

Ubbe didn’t answered, he just looked back down to the floor. In that moment, he didn’t want to talk to anyone.

“Multiple lacerations caused by glass, bullet-wound in the shoulder and two broken knuckles along with a sprained knee.” Hvitserk answered after a while, seeing that his brother was back to look at the ground. ”He’s okay, mum. A little shaken up.”

Aslaug sighed and sat up in the chair next to Ubbe. With a silent nod, Hvitserk left to refill his cup of coffee and to smoke a cigarrete in the parking. That left Ubbe and Aslaug alone.

“Have you eaten something?” she asked softly, receiving silence. “Baby, you need to have dinner. It’s almost three a.m.”

Again, no response.  

“I… know I haven’t been the number one supporter of your relationship or the decisions that came out from it.” she said. “But I also know that she’s a good girl, Ubbe. I was just afraid she was going to take you away.”

“She wanted to meet you.” Ubbe spoke for the first time since he arrived. “Y/N talked about you sometimes, as a great woman. I told her you were not that special. You want to know what she told me? That you were amazing because you raised good men and managed to keep our family safe in difficult times. She knew you didn’t like her, but still stood up for you when I went to her ranting about you.”

“I-I didn’t know that.” Aslaug said, surprised; she knew you were a good person, but not as good as that. “She’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that.” he raised his voice a little, and after looking around talked lower. “You didn’t see her, mum. She was so scared. Crying and trembling while that… beast dragged her inside. And the-en, he was t-trying to choke her… a-and-“

Ubbe was interrupted by his own sob, that made him shake. Aslaug hugged his son and, soon, his head placed itself on her chest, and she was cradling him like a baby. She hadn’t liked you, that was sure. Aslaug had seen how her son tried to get out of a business that only meant death, how he was unfocused on his tasks because he was thinking of you. Protecting her family had been her first priority always, but she couldn’t have done anything to prevent his son’s heart breaking.

“Has the doctor said anything?” she asked after a while.

“Tig heard them talking about a girl who had to be taken into an emergency surgery. -he whispered.” We think that’s her. But the doctor hasn’t come back.

“He will, don’t worry Ubbe.” she smiled softly, running a hand through his hair. “And I know she will be fine.”

“I hope so, mum.” he sighed. “I hope so.”

One by one, the members of SAMCRO fell asleep against the chairs. The night went by and the doctor still wasn’t back. The only one who hadn’t come back was Hvitserk, who Ubbe had asked to go to your house, to keep an eye on Sully. Aslaug kept pacing through the corridor, managing to get some information out of a nurse. It seemed that one of your lungs was deadly damaged and they had to take it out before it was too late for you. You had been in two emergency surgeries; the first one, to get the damaged lung out of you caring of not crashing anything important. The second one, to give you a new on from an emergency donator. Aslaug really suspected it was from Mrs Lowman, yet they didn’t give away any information.

Ubbe was nearly asleep too when he heard the well-known paws of Sully in the corridor. He looked up to see Hvitserk with a running Sully by his side, who was too quiet. The dog looked around and sniffled for a bit before finding Ubbe and setting her head into his lap.

“Hey, girl.” he smiled sadly. “You missing your momma, hm? She’ll be here soon, I promise.”

“I thought I should bring her here.” Hvitserk said, sitting beside him. “She was whining and crying. I think she knows something has happened to Y/N.”

“She’s a smart girl.” Ubbe said, looking at Sully’s sad look. “How did you managed to get her in? I thought no dogs were allowed.”

“Might or might have not used my gun.” Hvitserk shrugged, earning a hard glare from Ubbe. “What? It’s just a dog, she won’t do anything bad. Will you, Sully? No, because you’re a good girl, right? Who’s a good girl?”

Ubbe let out a little laugh as he listened to his brother put a ridicule high-pitched voice for the dog, who wasn’t paying attention to him. He could almost feel the sadness radiating from the animal, who looked at the corridor with sad eyes. Petting her head helped him to take his mind out of the memory of your scared and bruised face, but he had to come back to the real world when no more than an hour later the doctor came out.

He had big bags under his eyes, and was getting bloodied gloves out of his hands; not that anyone saw that. His shoulders were heavy with tension, and his eyes were looking for someone.

“Mr Lothbrok?” he asked. “Or anyone related with Y/N Y-“

The doctor didn’t get to say your last name before, at least, ten people in the waiting room rose up from their seats. Ubbe understood the surprise in the doctor’s eyes; not always you could see more than ten SAMCRO members and a huge dog looking at you with expectant eyes.

“I-Is-“

“How is she?” Aslaug interrupted her son, who looked like he would faint.

“She…Y/N is fine.” he gave a weak smile. “We’ve almost lost her more times that I can count, but she’s safe for now.”

A chorus of happy sighs appeared in the room, and Ubbe felt Hvitserk hugging him while trying to get a hold on Sully. The dog, who had smelled you in the doctor’s clothes, was trying to get closer.

“Can I…is she awake?” Ubbe said with a small voice.

“Yeah, we’ve kept her in for a while because the anesthesia had to wore off. Sorry for the wait, guys.”

A look from Aslaug was all it took for Ubbe to follow the doctor. They walked through numerous corridors, filled with people and medical staff. A large window was following them all the way, and Ubbe realised the sun was starting to rise. The worry and the fear in his mind had clouded his time-passing senses; the whole club had been waiting in a shitty room for hours and he couldn’t be any more grateful.

Finally, they arrived to a white door with the number one hundred on it. Ubbe stood still for a while, looking at the oxide in the corners of the door and the stains in the walls. Deep down, he was scared. Scared to find you in a bed with a nearly broken body, to see you hanging from life or barely breathing. What scared him the most, however, was seeing your face. Maybe you were angry at him; you had every reason, he thought. Because of him you had been nearly killed, and, in some way, he would understand if you left him. That was the best possibility. If he saw your scared face once again, that time directed to him, he was sure he would die in a second. A cold hand on his shoulder made him look to his side.

“She’s fine, Mr Lothbrok.” the doctor gave him a soft smile.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” he sighed. “I know she’s in good hands, but you don’t know what happened there. She might not want to see me again.”

“Well, I do know.” he let out a laugh. “Your girl is pretty talkative, you know? She wouldn’t stop talking about how you entered there between fireworks and war paint, to take her between your arms and save her.”

“What?” Ubbe smiled.

“She was pretty high on pain-meds, but I got the idea.” the doctor said. “Go and see her, she’s waiting for you.”

After a deep breath, he opened the door; and not a thousands wars could have prepared to see you. You were laying in a white bed, your hair sprawled in the pillow and the sun kissing your skin softly. That was the beautiful part. You also had an horrible bruise around your left eye, and your lip had a few stiches. The sheets were showing your collarbone, that was blue and black, and the hand where you had the IV was purple, along with your arm. Still, with a tube in your nose and a sore throat, you managed to smile.

“Hey stalker.” your voice was nothing more than a whisper, and made Ubbe’s eyes fill with tears. “You’re pretty banged up.”

“Have you looked at yourself, darling?” he let out a dry laugh, and walked towards the bed.

“Say that to my face.” you smiled softly.

His hand found yours and gave it a soft squeeze, almost afraid it would break. Ubbe had troubles sitting in the chair beside your bed, as his sprained knee didn’t bulge. It took him a minute to find a comfortable position in the chair, but he didn’t let go of your hand for a second. Almost afraid that you would disappear if he did so.

“Is everyone alright?” you asked.

“Sleeping out there, waiting to see you. Hvitserk was cuddling Sully when I left him.”

“She’s here?” your eyes lighted up.

“Of course, he brought her here last night.” Ubbe smiled

“And, Mrs Lowman?”

Ubbe’s silence was enough for you. You had suspected she hadn’t made it to the hospital, but the doctor hadn’t tell you anything. You tried to blink away the tears and calm your breathing before talking again.

“Is… her son here?”

“He’s on his way.” he sighed. “He was with his wife, preparing everything for the weeding.”

“God, Ubbe.” you let out a sob. “She-I saw how they killed her. I-I-“

“If you’re going to say you could have done something, don’t.” he frowned.

“But maybe everything would be alright if I hadn’t gone out! Halfsack would be-“

“Please, darling.” Ubbe ran a hand across your face. “Please, don’t blame this on you. He was more than willing to give his life for you, everyone is. You’ve charmed everything here, Y/N.”

You smiled through the tears and the pain, happy to be alive and to be with Ubbe again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

One step at a time. It wasn’t that hard, wasn’t it? You had to move first your right foot and then the left one. The stairs of your flat weren’t even that high, they were just old. But you couldn’t seem to climb them. Ubbe had passed by your side on multiple occasions, his arms full of the things that you had accumulated in your hospital room during the two months you had stayed there. It wasn’t much, just some clothes, your computer and personal objects; yet Ubbe didn’t even let you carry your own coat. The third time he walked down the stairs you were ready to throw him out and wipe that stupid smirk off his face. He stopped by your side with his arms crossed.

“You need any help, darling?”

“I’m doing fine, thank you.” you scoffed, walking another step up.

“You sure? Because I’ve already passed by you two times.”

“Not my fault you are too fast.”

“Come on, even Hvitserk after a nap is faster than you.” he laughed. “Let me help you.”

He tried to reach for you, and you almost gave up when you smelt his aftershave and the cigarettes he had smoked outside. In general, Ubbe was too tempting to stay away from him, yet you turned your head to the other side.

“No, I’m fine. Let me do it.”

“Darling, I’m hosting you up.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I am. Be ready.”

“Ubbe, I swear- Ubbe!”

With ease, he took you in his arms like if you weighted nothing, and shut your complains with a short kiss. You kept rambling and talking under your breath, blushing and wishing you could do things on your own. Not that you were complaining with the treatment.

“You shouldn’t be carrying me with your knee.” you worried. His knee had been dislocated in the incident of you bakery, and he hadn’t been taking good care of it. When he was not with you in the hospital, he was working into the getting the club out of the illegal stuff.

“It’s been two months, Y/N. My knee is more than okay.”

“Well, you shouldn’t carry me because of your shoulder.”

“Healed too, darling.” he laughed.

“Because I should be able to do things on my own!” you said as he placed you down on your door. You crossed your arms and pouted, deep down wanting to be between his arms again.

“You have a new lung, it’s better if you don’t force yourself.” Ubbe pulled you into his arms, and you hugged his waist. “I just want to take care of you.”

“And I want to have a normal life.” you sighed. “Without feeling tired all the time.”

Ubbe kissed your hair, running his hand up and down your back. The guilt on his chest hadn’t disappeared yet, but he was becoming used to live with it. You were alive, between his arms and that was all that mattered. Your little peace was interrupted by your wonderful neighbour.

“Y/N!” David Hale’s voice made you tear apart. “I didn’t know you were coming home so soon.”

“It was an unexpected decision. “ you smiled, taking Ubbe’s hand after tearing away from him. “Doctor Alfred thought I was out of danger, and let me out after some warnings.”

“That’s good!” he smiled. “Will you be going back to the bakery then?”

“I-I still don’t know.” you shrugged, looking down. “I haven’t been there since… you know.”

The topic was still sensitive to you and to almost everyone in the club. Not only they have lost Halfsack, but it was also a reminder that they were never safe; not even his families.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” he frowned. “I didn’t mean to-“

“We’ve got things to do, Hale.” Ubbe rolled his eyes.

“Aren’t you a charmer, Lothbrok.” he scoffed. “Anyway, if you need help with anything, you know where to find me.”

A mischievous smile formed in Ubbe’s lips, and you already knew what he was going to say before he said it.

“Won’t be necessary, I’m moving in with her. “Ubbe smirked. “We won’t be needing for you.”

“That’s a surprise.” his eyes widened. “And the club?”

You rolled your eyes at his question, not having missed one a bit the constant bickering between your neighbour and your biker.

“That’s none of your-“

“They will manage without him, David.” you interrupted him, giving Ubbe’s hand a hard squeeze. “But thanks for your concern.”

“Yeah.” after an awkward silence, he let out a chuckle. “Who would have guessed.”

“Guess what?”

“That the sweet baker would end up with the bad biker.” David smiled. “I’m-I’m actually leaving town for a while, you know. Bigger chances out there. So I wish you the best.”

“I hope you’re happy out there, David.” Ubbe was trying to avoid you touching the deputy, yet you got your hand out of his iron grip with a hard tug. You could practically feel his pout while you gave David a quick hug.

“Yeah, I’m sorry for the poor souls that are going to get in your way.” Ubbe laughed, placing his arm on your shoulders.

The conversation died down quickly, and after one last hug, David left. Ubbe walked with you inside, and threw himself on the couch. He opened his arms, waiting for you to cuddle on his chest. The apartment was quiet, too quiet without Sully. While you moved Ubbe’s things into your apartment, you thought it was better if Sully was out; she tended to chew on the boxes and destroy some of your clothes. So you decided to leave her in the club house, and they were more than happy to have her. Hvitserk had become so in love with her he took her to the porn studio or to anywhere he went. Tig actually used her to get the girls, and even Aslaug smiled when she walked beside her.

“I already miss Sully.” you pouted. “This is too quiet without her.”

“She’ll be barking our ears off in no time.” Ubbe said. “I’m sure your neighbours don’t miss her. I hope they know what is coming. If I hear a complain about Sully, they’re going to have the whole club at their doors.”

“This is going to get crowded.” you pointed out. “I hope you aren’t too fond of your privacy.”

“The only thing I’m fond of is you, darling.” he gave a soft squeeze to your ass. “And this ass.”

“You’re the worst.” you laughed, kissing him slowly. “I liked how it sounds.”

“How it sounds what?”

“The sweet baker and the bad biker.” you pecked again his lips, making him whine like a child for more. “Although I would call it the clumsy baker and the whiny biker.”

“We can be whatever you want darling.” Ubbe smiled. “As long as we are together. “

Yeah, that sounded right. The sweet baker and the bad biker, forever and ever. Until a barking Sully tear you apart.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

[undertaleowl]

The kitten ask was so cute!! Thank you so much! You said you could do little one-shot? What about some soulmate Au first meeting with UF sans? It could be: not seeing color til our eyes meet or "our first word are written on each other" or "first time we touch" etc. Not everyone like soulmate au so no problem if you dont want to do it!! ^^

Ahhhh, thank you so much! I’m glad you liked it. Sorry for the hold up, but I hope you like this one just as much. One-shot is under the cut. Thank you again!

Note: I went a little overboard on this ask, so instead of the max of 1,500 words, it’s 2,525. Sorry! I hope reader-insert format is okay.

Budding Relationships

When you were born, you and your family received a bundle of flowers from the hospital. The supposed “mages” from back in the day had started the tradition, saying that the type of flowers you were given at birth determined your future; roses, of course, meant true love was in your future, but what type of true love was dependent on the color. Red for lover’s love, pink for admiring or revering love, or white for love between friends. Lilies meant prosperity and a fruitful future. Sweet William flowers represented fraternity and strength in friendships. However, when the hospital sent your family home with flowers, they were flowers that no one recognized.

“Because you’re completely unique,” your parents had joked.

The petals were reminiscent of the first pattern of petals on a lotus flower, but the flowers were a cyan-turquoise color that almost seemed to glow. Over the years, you and your parents had tried researching the flowers, but no dice.

You couldn’t help but feel disheartened. There was another part of the flower legend, one that had significantly more weight than just a vague sense of the future. Many people in this region said that your flower wouldn’t decay until you had met the person you were supposed to be with for the rest of your life. Supposedly, some random person somewhere had another flower that represented their soulmate, and it was the same deal. You were supposed to carry your birth flower with you in your pocket, but there was only a handful of people that did that anymore. The flowers didn’t decay, but for most people, they never decayed. Ever.

If this flower represented anyone, you would throw away all of your high school science textbooks into a fire, because each one said that the legend couldn’t be possible because your flower just did not exist. So, no soulmate for you. Even if it was just a dumb legend, it was still disappointing.  

As the years went by, you became even more determined to figure out what this mystery flower was. Not even for the sake of finding your supposed soulmate, just finding out why you had gotten the flowers you did when they weren’t supposed to exist. You went to the hospital where you had been born, and asked if they remembered when they got the luminescent turquoise flowers. The good news was that the lady who worked there as the hospital florist still worked there, and she remembered your flowers. However, she said that the flowers had been an anonymous donation, meaning they couldn’t be traced back at all.

You threw everything you had into researching flowers after that, seeing if you could find other flowers that looked somewhat similar as a comparison point. Finally, you broke some ground. Apparently, the Ebottian Golden Flower had a similar structure to your mystery flowers. Eventually, you became actually interested in your research, so naturally, you went to college to further study plants and got yourself a botany degree at Ebbot City University, where this Ebottian Golden Flower was common. On the night before your graduation, you whispered to your flower that you hoped that your degree helped you discover its secrets.

Was it just you, or did those words seem to echo around your room that night?

After studying it on your own time after graduation as a research assistant, you finally checked the DNA on the flower. The DNA comparison of the glowing flowers was an almost exact match to the Ebottian Golden Flowers. Only the size, color, and of course the glowing were different. Related species? Or the exact same species that happened to differ in appearance, like breeds of dogs? You didn’t have an answer, so you stuck with your studies as you quit your job as an assistant and opened up a flower shop that had a flower identification lab space in back. It was mostly for the struggling grad students who needed help acing their exams. Your own mystery flower was back there on a shelf, and watched over you as you worked.

When the monsters re-integrated into society, you weren’t all that affected, except for one isolated incident when the Monster King had come in and demanded flowers for trying to win back a loved one. Well-versed in flower iconography and color coordination, you put together an arrangement of purple hyacinths (regret), pink roses (admiration), and white mayflowers (a new beginning). He gruffly threw too much money on the counter and stormed out, the bouquet in his hands. Two days later, the monster queen stormed in, threw the flowers on the counter, said she appreciated your hard work, but paid you an equal amount of money to take them back.

Other than that, both monsters and humans frequented your store, but nothing had happened that was as dramatic as that.

Until one day, a skeleton with red eye lights strode into the store, looking a bit lost in the forest of foliage. You were finishing up a bouquet, so you called from the back.

“Be there in just a second! Feel free to look around!”

You could have sworn that you heard him mumbling about how coming here was a waste of time, but if he truly felt that way, then why was he here? You didn’t pay any attention to your customer’s grumpy demeanor as you tied a silver bow around the neck of the vase. You put the flower arrangement into a preservation fridge.

“So what are you in for today?” you chirped as you took your gloves off and put them behind the register. When you looked up, you tried to contain your surprise. You had seen this skeleton before, along with who you assumed was his brother, but they just seemed like they wanted to be left alone whenever you saw them strolling on the streets. The skeleton looked up from examining the yellow flowers. He looked a little shocked himself.

“You’re a damn human,” he said. You crossed your arms, trying not to look defensive.

“And you’re a skeleton. What’s your point?” you asked. He rolled his eyelights.

“I’m not here to talk politics of species differences, sweet cheeks. Tori-I mean the Queen, said your arrangements are good and that you know tons of shit about flowers. Usually, she doesn’t take a shine to adult humans easy,” he explained. You hummed in acknowledgement.

“Alright, fair enough.” You straightened, ready to get back to business, but your chest had grown tight for some reason. It felt almost…warm? You mentally pushed to observation aside. You were probably catching a cold or something. “What are you looking for today, Mr. Skeleton?”

Instead of answering, he nodded his head towards the “take one flower” vases. “What are these flowers?”

You walked over and looked at the vase he was pointing to. “These are buttercups. They’re smaller, so if you’re wanting to give them to someone, you’d be better off getting one of the buttercup bouquets,” you said, pointing to the other side of the store where all of the generic bouquets were kept. He nodded, looking at the buttercups intensely. “If you were wanting to give them to someone, you’d better be trying to ask that someone out. Unless they’re a baby. ”

He looked at you like you had grown two heads. “What?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Buttercups represent childhood or childishness. Many people give buttercups as gifts to new parents, for their baby’s room. Or, it’s because they are courting someone you just started seeing. Like, your relationship is in the childhood stage,” you explained. The skeleton blinked before he started snickering. You straightened again, more than ready to go on the offensive. “What?”

“It’s nothin’,” he chortled. “Jus’ sounds like a load of crap, is all.” You felt your face redden.

“It’s not crap! It’s history!” You pointed a finger at the skeleton’s chest. “I’ll have you know that some people have studied this ‘crap’ and have documented it for years, centuries, even millennia! The Greeks and the Egyptians thought certain flowers were supposed to represent the afterlife, or some flowers were known for their healing properties. And hell, a lot of the flower meanings today remain unchanged. It’s a sign of human culture, not just silly superstition,” you asserted. He opened his mouth to speak before you cut him off. “I did my Capstone on this so called ‘crap’ do NOT try to contradict me.”

He snickered again before raising his hands in an “I surrender” gesture. “I get it, I get it. You know your stuff. I jus’ needed to check.” You blinked and sighed.

“Fine. I guess if you’re really looking for a professional, then you have every right to test them,” you grumbled. “Got anymore tests for me before you tell me what you want?”

The guy’s cocky smirk decreased and for the first time since walking in here, he looked serious.  “I need you to identify a flower and tell me what it means. Like, the flower history and symbology an’ shit.”

“Iconography,” you corrected. “Symbology tends to represent more historical contexts. Iconography studies images and interpretations of more abstract concepts, like concepts in certain religious texts or emotions.”

Sans quirked a bone brow. “You really do know what you’re talkin’ about. Good.” He took out a plastic baggy from his leather jacket pocket and put it in your hand. “What is it?”  

You had a pretty good idea of what it could be, so you nudged your head to the back of the store. “Follow me.” He did, and you put on a new pair of latex gloves. You gently plucked the flower from his grip with a pair of forceps. You already had a good idea of what it was, considering you had lived in Ebott City most of your adult life. You grabbed a magnifying glass and examined the vein structure in the leaves. Nodding to yourself quietly, you went over to the computer and input the data. You did the same thing with petal pattern and the pattern of the stigma. You smiled to yourself when the search narrowed down to a few geological locations, all of which you knew very well. Your hunch had been right, especially when you were studying this flower for a long while to understand your own birth flower.

“Well?” the skeleton asked, obviously impatient. “Do you know what the flower is, or don’tcha?”

You held up a pacifying hand. He calmed down and waited for your explanation. “It’s an Ebottian Golden Flower. Super common, especially on the outskirts of Ebott City. The plains around Mount Ebott are full of them. I’m surprised you didn’t see them when you got out from under the mountain.” Just as his skeletal hand touched yours as he took the flower back, the flower withered into nothing but a black stem. You yelped as he looked down at it in shock. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I…I-I-I don’t know what happened! I’m even wearing gloves!”

While you fretted, the skeleton looked over your shoulder and his eye sockets widened. Suddenly, everything made sense as he saw a potted bundle of Echo Flowers was on your shelf. He grabbed the pot off your shelf and shoved them into your hands. You stopped freaking out and stared at him quizzically, though you felt your cheeks growing hotter with how intensely he was looking at you. “Where did you get these flowers?” he asked. You stammered for a little bit before answering.

“They’re my birth flowers,” you answered. “The hospital gives them to you when you’re born and they’re supposed to be with you the rest of your life.”

Sans nodded. “I know. Monsters have the same thing. I guess we did take some things from the Surface after all.” He went to touch one of the flower petals when he froze. “Do you have the legend too? About soulmates an’ shit?”

You nodded, taken aback. Why was he bringing this up?

Sans nodded back. “Sorry for this.” He gripped the stems. Just like his Ebottian Golden Flower, the Echo Flowers shriveled up, turned black, and gradually disappeared. You blinked.

“What…?”

It didn’t make sense. It seemed super unlikely that both of you had the same chemical on your hands that completely destroyed the innocent, beautiful flowers, but it still happened! What was the explanation?! What…?

You stopped short, the words of the legend coming up in your head for no reason. “The flower will not decay until you meet the one with whom you’ll share your days,” you breathed. You looked at Sans and realized that maybe the chest tightening was…attraction? “Oh, wow.” The skeleton let out a snort.

“That’s all ya have to say? You just found out your soulmate is a literal monster. And you’re a damn human!” He let out a an uneasy laugh. “I mean I came here to find out if I even had a soulmate but to actually find my soulmate? Like, what the fuck?”

You stood there, gobsmacked as your heart raced a million miles an hour. His smirk was kind of attractive in a “come closer, and I’ll bite you somewhere pleasant” type of way, if you thought about it. Fuck, you were already in so deep and you had met only ten minutes ago!

He smiled, but the smile seemed more cautious now. “Heya, I know this is sudden, but wanna come with me to Grillby’s? Even if we don’t get…ya know…together, we should at least get to know each other or some shit’ right?” Before you could even gather your wits, he ran a hand down his face. “What am I sayin’? I’m a skeleton with fuckin’ demon teeth and I’m asking a tiny human stranger to have lunch with me!” He looked at you one more time. “Sorry. Fuck everything I just said, yeah? Forget it.” He moved to run out of the room, but you grabbed his wrist before you even knew what you were doing.

“Hush. I’m coming whether you want me to or not.” He looked at you like you were crazy, so you cleared your throat. “T-to learn about the flower, I mean! I’m the only person who ever got those flowers as far as I know, and you seem to know what they are.”

He smirked. “That so?” You nodded, hoping that you weren’t red-faced. He shrugged. “Eh. Don’t see why not. Close up, toots.”

You did as he said, and he nodded at you to follow him. “Name’s Sans, by the way,” he said. “Sans the Skeleton.” You smiled and gave him your name. You both walked in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “By the way, you never told me what my flower means. It’s supposed to represent you or some other sentimental shit, yeah?”

Your face went bright red. There was no way in Hell you were telling him that it meant everlasting devotion and was indicative of a successful marriage. You wanted to see where your budding relationship with the snarky, sort of assholish skeleton led.

[songketalliance]

Writing About Women

“I never stopped reading about gender and about women and about the various ways, across the many spheres of life, that men have subordinated women and that women have subordinated other women.”

A contribution by Keryn Ibm

These days a lot of my time is spent on writing a thesis about women, specifically women and science. It’s long overdue, having started it when my son, now a preschooler, was still a baby. I’m hoping to submit it soon, having abandoned it intermittently over the last two years.

It was not meant to be a thesis about women. The original topic has been lost to time, but nowhere in or around the actual proposal that got me into graduate study at the oldest university in the English-speaking world was gender mentioned. I simply had not thought about it then as something to analyse.

Somewhere in my second year, however, that changed. Looking back on it, I was under incredible stress then but did not know it. I was a new mother, we were living alone in a mostly white British community, we lacked company and support - and I was grappling with a sense of dread that my mind was duller and slower than usual. My mental capacity only fully returned to normal two years after I gave birth, after I had weaned my son. Somehow, I spent the bulk of my graduate studies in a daze.

So my original proposal gradually unraveled, because I did not know what questions to ask. I was looking at online knowledge production platforms - think Wikipedia - and what goes on there. People the world over contribute time and effort, willingly, for no financial compensation, to create and maintain what is currently the biggest repository of knowledge in the world. It’s a live encyclopedia, always growing, always changing. But why?

I was fascinated by Wikipedia and other platforms like this, including fandom portals such as Archive of Our Own, gaming communities, discussion boards such as Reddit. Growing up with the Internet means being familiar with these virtual neighborhoods, navigating them with ease after a period of reconnaissance. I was fascinated by what gets created in these spaces, which ones get attention (likes and reposts) and which ones remain in obscurity. Gradually, that fascination settled onto the question of the creators: who are they? Does everybody get to participate, or are some people shut out of these activities?

Around the same time, women began to fight back against sexism and misogyny in a loud and significant way online. GamerGate was a big deal; so was what a prominent male professor said about his female students - they either cry or fall in love with him - causing uproar in the scientific research community. I made a Twitter account for my graduate student persona and began keeping up with gender debates. It felt like I had stumbled onto a new landscape, with an almost unbearably fast and furious cascade of information rushing at me, shouting out all the problems, biases and disparities that separated the world into the privileged and male, and the subordinate and female.

With my gender-blindfold removed I saw the need to address this question in online knowledge platforms. The gender gaps in the professional world are in the military and in science. I chose the latter because it was more familiar and interesting to me, being also a scientist, albeit in the “soft” social sciences. I told my supervisor I wanted to write about women’s involvement (or lack of it) in science on online platforms where legitimate research projects are being conducted but in a more open and accessible way: participants don’t need qualifications and scientific training, they just have to get online and follow instructions well. He was skeptical at first, but the new proposal I somehow managed to cobble together with my then-few remaining braincells managed to convince him that it was a worthwhile shift. Certainly, it is a decision that I am glad I made: this topic is the main reason I embraced feminism and decided to be a more critical, socially responsible researcher.

However, writing the thesis remained fraught with challenges. I faced harsh criticism at various stages, and with each subsequent setback I became more and more disheartened. I eventually came back home, and since then only went back to the UK once for an exam, which was a disaster. I was told I still needed to do quite a lot of work, and other things that stab me in the heart when I remember them.  

It has been two years since that awful exam. I have regained my braincells, or else grown new ones. I have settled into the role and responsibilities of a mother of an autistic child, who is brilliant but will always require a special kind of care. Perhaps it has been too long, but it is only now that I feel ready to go back to that thesis, to go back to the questions and data and discussions that had so enthralled and challenged me. I feel ready, because between then and now I never stopped reading about gender and about women and about the various ways, across the many spheres of life, that men have subordinated women and that women have subordinated other women. Reading gave me the vocabulary to understand why I was struggling the way I did as a graduate student in that predominantly white and male institution. I was invisible, isolated and lonely, but couldn’t articulate what that felt like. Now I know, only because other people have written about similar situations that women like me and unlike me find themselves in.

Reading also gave me the itch to write, and to share my thoughts - in text message discussions with my feminist book club friends, on Twitter, in spoken word events, in a gender class that I teach, in articles about gender identity and leadership and hijab and many other topics that, viewed through a gender lens, became fascinating case studies. I have been building strength through reading, and flexing through writing. These are essential practices: I need the conviction and the comprehension and the courage to write and to finish this thesis. And I will continue to need them as I keep writing and writing about women, even long after the thesis has been done and submitted (wish me luck!).

I don’t foresee the gender problem to be resolved in our lifetime - as some problems are overcome, new ones crop up as social structures and relations shift and settle over time. Our individual lives diverge and converge, and we are all positioned on different axes of identities - gender, race, religion, class, ability. We can only ever know intimately our own experience, but we can relate to others’ by reading their stories. That’s why, I think, we need to keep writing about women. We need to keep writing in search of new solutions for problems new and old. We need to keep asking, to keep probing and searching and understanding. Ultimately, I believe, some of the best answers are to be found in writings about women, just as I found the answers to my own dilemma of knowing who I was as a graduate student, who I am right now, and what it’s going to take for these two versions of myself to finish writing my thesis.

A contribution by Keryn Ibm

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[quranreadalong]

ALL MY WIVES, PART 1

The next surah is about Mohammed’s sex life, I regret to tell you, and so now is as good a time as any to discuss Mohammed’s many wives and sex slaves. Islam allows men to have four wives at any one time, but as we will see in the next surah, this does not apply to Mohammed, who can have as many wives as he wants. Straight men really be like that.

These will be brief biographies of his wives... but even so, I need multiple posts to discuss all of them. The man had a damn collection.

KHADIJA: A wealthy businesswoman who inherited money from her deceased husband’s estate and used it to grow her caravan, Khadija bint Khuwaylid was Mohammed’s first and only wife back when he was semi-normal in the pre-Islamic days. She was the mother of his only surviving children, and is therefore the ancestor to every person who claims descent from Mohammed himself. Despite that, frustratingly little is said of Khadija in reputable sources. We can put together a very basic outline of her life: she was born into a merchant family of the Banu Asad clan of the Quraysh. She was married twice before she met Mohammed, with both of her husbands being traders who died young. Between those two husbands, she had at least three and possibly up to five surviving children. Very little is said about them.

According to Ibn Ishaq’s sira, Mohammed was one of Khadija’s merchant contractors, hired to travel with the caravan to and from Syria. Upon his return, al-Tabari says that “he brought Khadijah her property, which she sold for twice the price or nearly so”. Khadija was impressed by his skills and proposed to him. Mohammed was unmarried at the time and accepted her proposal. Most sources say she was older than he was, though the actual age difference between the two varies from source to source.

The two seem to have had a fairly normal life until shortly before 610 AD, at which point Mo became increasingly withdrawn and reclusive. They had several children, some of whom died in childhood, as was typical for the era. Their surviving children were all girls--four daughters named Zaynab, Roqaya, Umm Kulthum, and Fatima. If you guessed that virtually nothing is said about Mohammed’s own goddamn children in reputable sources, you are correct! All we can say for sure is that all four ended up becoming Muslims, though the eldest stayed with her polytheistic husband in Mecca; he was later kidnapped by Mo’s goons in Medina and Zaynab was “encouraged” to go join her dad. All of them seem to have died of disease fairly young, in their twenties and thirties. Fatima is the only one who outlived Mohammed, but barely. We'll see more of Fatima later.

Khadija herself was, according to the biographies anyway, the first person Mohammed told about his whole angel-visiting adventures. The biographies state that Khadija had a cousin named Waraqa, who had converted to Christianity some years prior. He assured her that what Mohammed was talking about was similar to the message of Moses and said that he was a prophet. Waraqa conveniently dies and disappears from the story thereafter, and Gabriel ghosts on Mo for a while. Hmm.

The Prophet (ﷺ) then described whatever he had seen. Waraqa said, "This is the same Angel (Gabriel) who was sent to Moses. I wish I were young." He added some other statement. Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) asked, "Will these people drive me out?" Waraqa said, "Yes, for nobody brought the like of what you have brought, but was treated with hostility. If I were to remain alive till your day (when you start preaching). then I would support you strongly." But a short while later Waraqa died and the Divine Inspiration was paused (stopped) for a while so that Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) was very much grieved.

Regardless, Khadija seems to have believed Mohammed. And she stuck by her poor demented man’s side for around nine years after the prophet business started. According to most accounts, she, Ali (Mohammed’s younger cousin, who lived with them), and their adopted son Zayd (whose story we will be seeing this surah) were the first Muslims, other than Mohammed. Al-Tabari relates a story of a man stating:

I was a merchant, and I came during the pilgrimage and stayed with (Mohammed’s uncle) al-'Abbas. While we were with him, a man came out to pray and stood facing the Ka'bah. Then a woman came out and stood praying with him, followed by a youth who stood praying with him. I said, "'Abbas, what is this religion? I do not know what this religion is."

He answered, "This is Muhammad b. 'Abdallah, who claims that God has sent him as His Messenger with this (religion), and that the treasures of Chusroes and Caesar (Persian and Byzantine kings) will be given to him by conquest. This woman is his wife Khadijah bt. Khuwaylid, who has believed in him, and this youth is his cousin 'Ali b. Abi Talib, who has believed in him."

(Give yourself a pat on the back if you can spot the continuity error in this story.)

Again, surprisingly little is said about Khadija thereafter, even from not-entirely-reputable sources. It’s said that she was charitable. There’s a mention of how her relatives gave her supplies to get around that sketchy-sounding failed “boycott” of the Banu Hashim that we talked about. Then she dies in the year 619 AD. That’s literally all that is said about her in the early biographies and histories. It’s especially frustrating because we’re told over and over that Khadija was respected by the Quraysh, so you’d think she played an important role in the early years of Islam, right? Being a brand ambassador of sorts? But it never really says that.

Part of the problem with Khadija is that she kicked the bucket before the migration to Medina--and as we’ve seen before, there’s just a lot more written about the Medina days than the Mecca days. So Khadija ends up disappearing from the story a bit, even though she was clearly either the most prominent or one of the most prominent of Mohammed’s wives. But even after her death, she remained Mohammed’s favorite wife, in addition to Aisha (who was jealous of Mo’s devotion to her memory). Mo seems to have had a decreased sperm count or something in his older days, so he only conceived one other child that we know of, and that child died. Khadija’s status as the mother of his only adult children permanently put her above the other women.

SAUDA: After Khadija died, Mohammed needed someone to take care of his daughters. Enter Sauda. Again there is little said about her in the reputable sources, but what we can put together is this: Sauda was from the Banu Amir ibn Luayy clan of the Quraysh and was married to a guy named as-Sakran ibn Amr, who was a merchant and the brother of a Qurayshi leader named Suhayl ibn Amr. They had one child. The family converted to Islam fairly early on, though the exact time and circumstances are unknown, and the details of Sakran’s later life are a bit sketchy (some sources say he died of illness, others say he left Islam). They lived together in the Muslim trading community in Abyssinia for a while, then Sauda and her son returned to Mecca. Upon her return, she sought Mohammed’s blessing for another marriage. He offered to marry her himself, as Khadija had been dead for about a year. Sauda accepted and became his daughters’ caretaker. That was her primary role in Casa Mohammed.

Aisha did like Sauda, for those keeping track, even though she repeatedly called her a fattie. And yes, that will also be relevant this surah. She didn’t leave much of a definitive mark on Islamic history beyond that incident. Presumably she was quite close to Mohammed’s daughters, since she took care of them, but there isn’t much said about their relationship.

In Mohammed’s last years of life, Sauda allowed him to stop performing his “husbandly duties” with her, knowing that he was not attracted to her. She donated her allotted time with Mohammed to Aisha instead. This is often presented as Sauda’s way of ensuring he did not divorce her.

Little is said about her later life, but she probably outlived Mohammed by at least a few years. Al-Tabari says her son died during the Islamic army’s invasions of Persia.

AISHA: Ah, Aisha, the one that makes everyone uncomfortable. Aisha was the younger daughter of Abu Bakr, who was a wealthy merchant from the Banu Taym clan of the Quraysh. Abu Bakr was well-known, influential, and respected in his community, and his conversion to Islam was a very big deal. (The exact timing of his conversion is uncertain--it was early, for sure, but early Muslims’ desperate attempts to say that he converted before Ali or any other man are probably bullshit.) He was the biggest sucker Mohammed picked up in those early years. Mo thought it would be a good idea to tie himself to his new lackey as tightly as possible, and there was no better way to do it than marry his daughter.

Even though many people really wish it weren’t true, Aisha was by unanimous agreement (prior to the 20th century, when Muslims realized ppl were making fun of them for it) six to seven years old at the time of the marriage. They were technically married before Sauda came into the picture, though they did not start living together as man and child wife until she was nine, by which point they’d moved to Medina. Evidently Mo, being a gentleman, waited for her to start her period before taking her into his bed. Now that’s classy.

While the marriage was obviously a political thing combined with deeply questionable morality, Mohammed would later tell Aisha that Allah himself wanted them to get married.

the Prophet (ﷺ) said to her, "You have been shown to me twice in my dream. I saw you pictured on a piece of silk and some-one said (to me). 'This is your wife.' When I uncovered the picture, I saw that it was yours. I said, 'If this is from Allah, it will be done."

As Mohammed’s youngest wife and prime grooming victim, Aisha would quickly establish herself as The Favorite, to the point that his other wives felt neglected. Aisha was often childish and petty as a kid, but Mohammed indulged her (given that she was, you know, a child). Her antics seemed to amuse him. We’ve already seen some of Aisha’s trials and tribulations in her teenage years, like The Slander, but through it all she remained his favorite wife; he died by her side.

Aisha is a complicated character, and modern Muslims’ reluctance to talk about her (beyond saying she narrated a lot of ahadith) due to the child bride issue doesn’t help anyone understand her any better. Remember, she was only eighteen when Mo died. Her father had just become the leader of their community, and not everyone was happy about it. In the ensuing decades, the Muslims would encounter tensions and civil strife that pit the core members of the Qurayshi Muslims against one another.

Since Mohammed was the sun that the Muslims’ world revolved around, those who knew him best automatically had a great deal of power, and Aisha knew that people would want to know as many personal details as possible about her deceased husband. Details that only she knew. And she would use that opportunity to shape her own legacy. Whenever there was a question about the proper Islamic way of doing things, or whether something was or was not permissible, Aisha could just say “well, when the Prophet was with me, he’d do it this way”, and several debates were ended on the basis of her testimony. Was everything she said true? Honestly, probably not (more on that later), but the girl knew how to play the game.

When this project is over, I’m gonna have an epilogue where I go over this, but for now let it suffice to say that Aisha’s most controversial moment came after the death of the caliph Uthman. The fallout of his assassination, and differing opinions over what to do about it, provoked a political crisis. Some decisions she made resulted in sectarian issues that persist to this day. If you want my personal opinion: given that she was forced to marry a cult leader as a child (and her dad was kind of a dick to her too, even beyond that), prevented from marrying thereafter, called a whore and belittled as a teenager, and roped into the political conflicts of a rapidly expanding imperial state, she did pretty damn alright for herself.

Regardless, after the whole Uthman fiasco, Aisha kind of fades from the record (along with every other woman tbh). She lived for quite a while, dying in the 670s AD, but her adventuring days were long behind her.

HAFSA: Umar’s eldest daughter; Hafsa was already married to some irrelevant guy as a teenager and was left widowed when he died. Her father offered her to both Abu Bakr and Uthman, but they turned him down, knowing that Mohammed wanted her for himself. Shortly thereafter, around the year 624 AD, Mohammed suggested the marriage. Umar accepted the match and they were wed when she was roughly 19 years old. Like Aisha, this was almost certainly a political move--Umar was Bro #2, and Mohammed wanted to bring him into the family. (Bro #3, Uthman, would go on to marry two of Mohammed’s own daughters.)

Hafsa’s most notable contribution in Islamic history is usually said to be her involvement in the collection of the Quran. But the ahadith actually flesh out her character to a surprising extent. To me, it seems like she had a sort of bitchy friendship with Aisha, with Hafsa irritated by her younger sister-wife’s status as The Favorite but still drawn to her, as the two were the youngest of Mohammed’s early wives. Their interactions always make me laugh. Here, for example, is a story from when Mohammed was dying:

[Aisha said:] Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) in his last illness said, "Tell Abu Bakr to lead the people in the prayer." I said, "If Abu Bakr stood in your place, he would not be able to make the people hear him owing to his weeping. So please order `Umar to lead the prayer." He said, "Tell Abu Bakr to lead the people in the prayer." I said to Hafsa, "Say to him, 'Abu Bakr is a softhearted man and if he stood in your place he would not be able to make the people hear him owing to his weeping. So order `Umar to lead the people in the prayer.' " Hafsa did so but Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said, "Keep quiet. Verily you are the companions of (Prophet) Joseph (referring to those ladies from the Joseph story). Tell Abu Bakr to lead the people in the prayer." Hafsa said to me, "I never got any good from you."

Here’s another good one. Umar was his usual dickish self to his poor daughter and reminded Hafsa that Mohammed liked Aisha better than her, so I dunno, maybe living with Mohammed instead of her father wasn’t such a terrible trade-off. We’ll see more of Hafsa in a later surah and find out why Mohammed briefly divorced her. She outlived Mohammed and died around age 50.

ZAYNAB 1: This woman was named Zaynab bint Khuzayma and basically nothing is known about her because she died of disease barely a year after Mohammed married her. She was probably around 30 years old and had been previously married to a man who was unlucky enough to die at Badr. Other biographies say he instead died at Uhud. No one can agree on who the guy even was, though usually he's said to have been one of Mohammed's many cousins. Zaynab 1′s one notable detail mentioned in some biographies is that she gave food to a poor beggar once. Other than that, there’s nothing much to say. 

UMM SALAMA: Real name Hind bint Abi Umayya, Umm Salama’s father had been a wealthy merchant and one of the leaders of Mecca, and her first husband was one of Mohammed’s cousins via his aunt. (One of her father's other wives was also an aunt of Mohammed, showing how all the important Qurayshi families were connected to each other.) As such, she was an upper-class woman.

She and her husband converted to Islam early on and were some of the first to move to Abyssinia, where the Muslims lived in a merchant community along the coast across the sea from Arabia. When they returned home, they moved to Medina with the other Muslims (a hadith mentioned by Ibn Ishaq says that Umm Salama was originally caught in a scuffle between her clan and her husband’s clan and prevented from leaving, but then they let her go), but Umm Salama’s husband later died of wounds he’d incurred at Uhud. As she was from an important family, the widow of his cousin, and a mother of young children, Mohammed offered to marry her.

There are some ahadith that, taken together, suggest that Umm Salama was one of Mohammed’s most respected wives, especially after his death. That is not particularly surprising given her pedigree and her family’s status. In particular, she is assigned the role of Ali’s primary supporter among Mohammed’s widows in the mess that unfolded after Uthman’s death, with Aisha leading the wives in the other camp. (We’ll get to that eventually.) There are stories that indicate that she was quite close to both Fatima and Ali and that she defended Ali against accusations of incompetence and inadequacy. A few Shia traditions also have her weeping in the aftermath of the Battle of Karbala, which resulted in the death of Fatima and Ali’s son Hussein. Beyond these two incidents, little is said of her later days (are you detecting a theme yet?), though she evidently lived into her 80s.

⇚ previous day | next day ⇛

[midcing]

okay so i have some New Kids.... they are all trash but some of them are trying their best which should honestly count for something imho... i’ll probably bring some more muses in at some point during this week bc i legit have 25 apps in my drafts right now and i just didn’t apply for all at once bc didn’t want to overwhelm myself... honestly tho? i want all the plots.... so like... pls like this and i’ll im you or come to me throwing ideas at my face so we plot and have some connections and threads ?? love my new trash sons pls ?? thanks !

JAMES WEST looks an awful lot like CHARLIE WEBER. HE is THIRTY NINE and while they’re LOGICAL, they have a tendency to get pretty CONTRARY. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to POLARIZE by TWENTYONEPILOTS.

inspired by ;; frank delfino from htgawm, walter white from breaking bad and jaime lannister from game of thrones. 

a lawyer

has 2 daughters.

would probably start a war for both of them if they asked him to.

thinks his daughters are angels who can do no wrong. if he saw them murdering someone in front of him, he would probably come up with a reason why they were doing it and defend them which isn’t great bc they are both like wild kids who are not actual angels ( wc ?? anyone ?? i’m trash for families ngl )

sketchy morals at best? ? doesn’t think of himself as someone who would do anything wrong but if something wrong is being done for his benefit he is sure as hell not gonna stop it

got into an ivy league school because his father - criminal known for money laundering, corruption, and fraud - donated a huge sum of money to the college. will die pretending he got in on his own merit 

the older brother of my character mark west bc i love families sue me

would probably google ‘how to know if i am a dilf’

says thing like ‘lit’ and ‘on fleek’ to relate to the youth

pretends everything is fine until it blows up in his face

wants to much ! a perfect life, a perfect house, a perfect family, a perfect wife, a perfect job ! pretty good ? nah. not good enough for james west. scratch that and start again. everything must be 10/10

wants to be everybody’s dad even tho he isn’t a great dad to his two kids

will make your life choices for you if you let him

will bail you out of jail but only if he is allowed to give you a 3 hour lecture on Responsibility 

will logic his way out of moral conundrums

the kind of person that turns a blind eye to corruption if it benefits him in some way

tries his best, which really honestly can only be said about 5% of my characters, so i would give him some credit

if you ask him a question he doesn’t want to answer he will just straight up ignore the question and change the subject 

feels guilty about the way his helps criminals and does wrong stuff for his benefit and the benefit of the people he loves but also doesn’t try to change

aesthetics — watching the sunset through the office window, loud alarms playing an hour later than it should, unrecognizable reflection in the mirror, child laughter and the heavy feeling of stress in your chest, hushed whispers of assertions amidst a crowd, old wedding rings saved away after the divorce, big houses and empty space, thousand dollar watches, the smell of jail permanently stuck to a three piece suit, painfully happy memories, ignoring the way guilt makes it hard to breath, arguing in a favor of a guilty party.

FRANK HAMILTON looks an awful lot like DAVID HARBOUR. HE is FORTY ONE and while they’re DEVOTED, they have a tendency to get pretty UNPRINCIPLED. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to SEDATED by HOZIER.

inspired by ;; hank from detroit become human and chief hopper from stranger things

                                                              tw: gambbling, alcoholism

a mess trying to pass for a functioning human being

he is a dirty cop that accepts bribes to let people off the hook and gets money from gangs to look the other way when he knows they will be doing something wrong somewhere bc he truly cannot bring himself to care

honestly i have no excuses for his behavior

has a huge problem with gambling. 

born in kola. lived in kola for almost 30 years. moved out after his marriage fell apart, but has recently moved back

the kind of human being who thinks blood and gasoline are sexy

the kind of person that goes All Fucking Out for things and then when things don’t turn out exactly how he expected them to he makes a fuss about it and goes like “why did i even bother?”

will call you out on your bullshit and then act like people just throw shit at other’s face like that. stare you in the eye after exposing you and ask ‘what?’

says stuff like ‘i might be a shitty person but at least i’m upfront about it’ and ‘i prefer not to get involved in people’s lives.’

there is no such thing as a acquaintances. frank either loves you with all his heart and would kill a man for you OR he hates you and the fact that you are able to talk annoys him

you’ve heard of overachivers ?? well frank  is here to present you A True Underachiever. he tries to do the bare minimum amount of work possible 

the personification of /r/notmyjob

would probably go to an underground fighting ring for fun

channels his unhappiness into unhealthy habits. drinks too much, smokes too much. doesn’t do anything to change the fact that he is unhappy

gambled his marriage away by which i mean he gambled everything owned away and kept trying to find excuses for it until she was done and left . he still loves her but he feels like shit and he doesn’t wanna drag her back into his shitty life ( wc ? pls ? )

moved away from kola when his marriage ended and went to las vegas. lived there until he got in dept there too and he couldn’t find anywhere else to play then came back to kola 

at some point was wide-eyed and hopeful and interested in helping people but slowly became unhappy with how he didn’t go anywhere, didn’t become better, greater, didn’t do more and then slowly things just went to shit

aesthetics — casual cruelty in the name of honesty, cigarette buds collecting on an old ashtray, crumbled dollar bills found between couch cushions, falling asleep at three o’clock and waking up the next day, bloody knuckles, handcuffs and police siren, the smell of alcohol in your breath at ten in the morning, unironed shirts and old cologne, knowing something is wrong but doing it anyway, ignored calls from concerned family members, remembering you have to do something just as it is too late to do it, the thrill in heartbeat when you land a punch in someone’s face, drunk steps stumbling out of the bar, begging people for one more chance.

SEBASTIAN “BASH” VANCOOP looks an awful lot like LIAM PAYNE. HE is TWENTY TWO and while they’re CHARMING, they have a tendency to get pretty SELFISH. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to PLAY ME LIKE A VIOLIN by JEREMY.

inspired by ;; hakeem lyon from empire and aaron burr from hamilton

that one sort of famous person that is always shirtless in other famous’ people instagram stories

treats people like things he can use and drop when he gets tired of

fake af. will say he likes you and then shit talk about you behind your back

that one person that goes ‘ooooooooooh you are gonna let them talk like that about you ?? ’ when other people are fighting 

only wears prada chanel and gucci

can actually be really nice if you get to know him but how ? when there are three hundred walls up ??

thinks people are gonna take advantage of him or make fun of him so he just doesn’t trust anyone. can’t get betrayed if you never let anyone in right ??

doesn’t understand internet culture

was born in an insanely rich family. his father was a famous movie producer and his mother was a famous movie star. picture like spielberg as his dad and kate winslet as his mom 

hates when people say like ‘Oh So You Are [    ]’s son?’

the first movie he was ever in was when he was about 5

he was in a bunch of movies from ages 5 to 12 but it was never really anything big. he was just the main character’s kid or that one kid that doesn’t get much screen time in movies like goonies

he never really liked acting but what else woUld he do ?? look at his family !! look at his legacy !! [ cue ‘wait for it’ from the hamilton soundtrack playing in the background ]

when he was 20 his father produced and directed a movie in which he stared. it was like his first Real role in hollywood action blockbuster. before the movie was out there was this whole hype about him and his dad working together and wow it’ll be awesome but it pretty much bombed. picture like After Earth bomb. everyone shit talking about him and the movie and how dumb it is on youtube bomb. the movie doesn’t get money to pay for itself bomb.

despite the fact that his parents said it didn’t matter. it was just a bad movie. everyone making fun of him and people shit talking about how he didn’t have his parents’ talent got to him real bad. he stopped acting all together.

his parents keep telling him to Do Something but he just doesn’t

is living in kola bc LA is a dumb of reminder of everything he thinks he did wrong

aesthetics — the blinding lights of camera flashes, the light feeling of being drunk, loud songs blaring through club speakers, interviews stopped halfway through, rude comments and anger, crowded parties in expensive summer homes, the overwhelming feeling in your chest when someone gets too close to fast, feigned charm and stranger’s company, running out of things to say after you have known someone for a while, wasted champagne dripping off a tilted bottle and loud laughter coming from the other room, the slow but continues pain in your heart that reminds you you are disappointment.

MATTHEW “MATTEO” DECKER looks an awful lot like JON BERNTHAL. HE is FORTY TWO and while they’re WILLFUL, they have a tendency to get pretty BLUNT. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to SEVEN NATION ARMY by THE WHITE STRIPES.

inspired by ;; frank castle from daredevil, frank castle from the punshiner, frank castle from the born comics series. ( they are three different people, fight me ) seeley booth from bones in season five

                                       tw: alcoholism, ptsd, mention of army, and war

former us marine

mostly goes by decker. his family used to calls him matteo but when other people do it it’s like .. “no”

you have been heard of resting bitch face ? matteo is here to show you the resting i fucking hate you face

swears too much like Wayy too much

he can be honestly really fucking soft i’m ngl but then you gotta be that one person that breaks down walls and again ? who has the time for that ? in the twenty first century?

wants to take care of everyone but pretends he is not interested in people bc he “Knows” everyone is gonna die or leave so there is no fucking point

actually just pretends he isn’t The Absolute Softest for everyone and tries to keep them all at arm's length but then people say ‘hi’ and are nice to him and he is like ‘Fuck me now i like them’

can actually laugh and make jokes which is Impressive imo

but then goes back to being bitter and angry at life

too straight up about things : could heavenly benefit from learning how to read social cues

you have to Tell him things if you want him to understand it. you can’t go around dropping hints. he won’t get it.

drinks his coffee black and without sugar

enlisted when he was eighteen bc patriotism and american dream and red white and blue stars but then that slowly stopped being the point. then he was just doing it bc He had been doing that for years what else would he do ? and then at some point he just saw too much … and then when he was discharged he just Never came back

after he came back he couldn’t find a job and he didn’t know what else to do and he slowly started getting involved with shady stuff and now he sells drugs to pay the bills

disappointed in who he is right now. 

he is honestly Trying his very best.

aesthetics — punching a wall until your hands stings and your chest doesn’t anymore, the pleasant light feeling of holding back laughter, completed tasks and unachievable peace of mind, low chatter in dive bars in dark parts of town, questioning your belief system, roadside motels and failing neon lights, moonlight coming through the bedroom window, leaving the morning after, combat boots, loud honking cars and shaky hands, fighting the urge to shove someone away when you feel their touch against your skin, quiet places and pleasant loneliness, old dusty books and rock music, waking up multiple times in the middle of the night, whiskey mixed with coffee

OCTAVIANUS BRUNO GENTILLE looks an awful lot like FRANCOIS ARNAUD. HE is THIRTY SIX and while they’re ROMANTIC, they have a tendency to get pretty UNREALISTIC. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to SOMEONE NEW by HOZIER.

inspired by ;; jay gatsby from the great gatsby, romeo from romeo and juliet, tom hansen from (500) days of summer, a slam poem i saw on youtube once

                                              tw: bullying, mention of learning disabilities and stutter

romanticized every bad thing that happened in his life.

will romanticize every bad thing that ever happened in your life.

the kind of person that says “things happen for a reason…”

goes by his middle name. honestly thinks his first name is the Most Stupid Thing In The World if you call him octavianus he’ll be legit annoyed. kids used to make fun of him at school all that jazz. just call bruno

he is legit in love with italian culture and history. his father was italian and he just highkey Cannot Shut Up About It

art history professor in kola’s college

the kind of professor that just loves what he is doing… you know when the professor like kinda looks excited that he is talking or sharing knowledge or just talking about shit they truly like ? that is bruno

a nerd but pretends he isn’t

could not do a one night stand without catching feelings if his life depended on it

loves people too much too fast with all his heart

there is an argument to be made for him not actually falling in love with people and just with the idea of love that he made up in his mind but let’s get to that when we get to that

will spend the entire lesson arguing with one student about how inaction in our current political climate is just as harmful as supporting people who are doing harm when he was supposed to be talking about impressionism or something like that

thinks people have a soulmate and he is just trying to find his

100% not only Shows up to slam poetry sessions but Helps organize them

real political. the type of person that rallies when things are wrong and gets others to do it

has too many exes

posts pictures with his current girl/boyfriends on instagram and then doesn’t delete them when they break up bc ‘that’s who i was at that moment’

can recite poetry for you in italian but do not let him trick you. he’ll only be around for the honeymoon phase of the relationship then he’ll be like wow this isn’t perfect. time to end it

loves art !! all type of art !! is terrible at all of it : writing, panting, photography. but he loves it and he does it despite being bad and he tells people to do what they love !! and follow their dreams !!

his parents got a divorce when he was 7 and it was pretty bad. his dad was italian and moved back to italy shortly after. his mother was from kola and he stayed with her.

it was as if his world had fallen apart at that. bruno had never even seen his parents fight and then one day his father just moves out to Another Country he was pretty lost and confused

bruno moved back and forth between italy and the u.s. throughout most of his childhood and adolescence. never spending a lot of time in one place.

though his parents tried to remain friends after the divorce for his sake it never really worked out. his father wanted his mom back while his mother moved on and got married again.

growing up, he had a lot of trouble with accents and language. his father used to speak only italian at home. and his mother used to speak only english.

he developed a learning disability and a stutter after his parents got divorced

kids in school used to make fun of him. the way he talked and his name specially.

doesn’t stutter anymore but when he is talking about something that is hard to talk about, he talks really slowly to make sure the words come out properly

aesthetics — ukulele songs playing softly in a room with echo, piano recitals with ten people in the audience, walking around aimlessly, kissing greek statues, being happy that you are sad because it means that you are alive, cheering on others success, lacking ambition and living the present, old songs hummed in the shower, waking up early and staying in bed until 10am, cuddling under warm blankets, failing in love with a stranger, laughing loudly with new friends, white wine, beautiful paintings in an empty museum, admiring something for way too long,

ANTHONY MILLER looks an awful lot like JOSH DALLAS. HE is THIRTY NINE and while they’re PATIENT, they have a tendency to get pretty SELF-RIGHTEOUS. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to JACKIE AND WILSON by HOZIER.

inspired by ;; prince charming from once upon a time, ned stark from game of thrones, bob belcher from bob’s burgers

                                                                      tw: cancer

cannot talk about his feelings . cannot accept his own mistakes . cannot show weakness . at any point. no matter the subject . cannot let anyone take care of him.

Must be the best at all times for everyone and take care of everyone

self-care is a myth anthony does not believe in

works too much

he needs glasses to read stuff but he pretends he doesn’t so he does that squinting and pulling things close to his face thing. at which point you would probably ask ‘anthony if you don’t want to wear glasses wouldn’t it be easier ? to just ? wear contact lenses ?’ and yes it would it definitely would but anthony likes to make things harder for himself

slow to anger but he has that temper that you literally cannot see coming. he looks serious and stoic and then wow thunderfucking storms breaking chairs and stuff

loves beers and american football

the type of person that says this generation is lost

might smoke too much but he doesn’t talk about that

he doesn’t talk about anything actually

although i love him with all my heart. i would not rec

there is a right way to do stuff and anthony as the holder of all the knowledge and morality Must tell you about it

rarely ever smiles bUT when he does ? smiles like a prince. if we had a royal verse he’d be the king of the entire universe honestly.

he was a oldest child in a family of 7. his parents were super wealthy and he was the One favorite child who both parents used to love and cherish and cheer on.

he got his high school sweetheart pregnant. his parents didn’t want him to marry her bc she was Poor and Not up to standards but he chose love over his family and got disowned for that. hasn’t talked to his family since

his dream life was always to have the perfect picket fence house and american dream type of family. it was supposed to be him, his wife, his son and maybe some day he would have a daughter and it would Be great

he and his wife had a son and they named him hendrix bc she loved rock and jimi hendrix and he loved the name even tho he never liked rock. but honestly ? he was so weak for her he would have loved the name lkgjdflajf if she suggested it

a few months after their first son was born tho she was diagnosed with cancer and a few months later she passed away

after that he raised his son by himself. he really threw himself into it. spent most of his life focused on it and work and now his son is going to college and he doesn’t know what to do with himself

the only person he ever Truly dated was his wife and then he just focused on his son and raising him so he never really allowed himself to date bc then he would have to introduce someone else to his son’s life and all that … sO anthony is usually all cool and fine and then you show romantic interest in him and there is like a visible shift ya know? like he goes from anthony to a truly profoundly awkward person trying to pretend it’s cool

aesthetics — organized work tables, color coded to-do lists, trying your very best at all times, mental exhaustion showing through physical symptoms, dad jokes and laughing by yourself, the smell of new books, comfort found in old libraries, forgetting your reading glasses at home, losing your temper and breaking something, old family photos lost somewhere in the attic, pushing someone else on a swing, sundays afternoons lost at the park, working extra hours instead of going home, cold breeze and hugging yourself to your jacket, trying to explain to someone why they are wrong when they don’t want to listen