#life be crazy y'all

[mr-missani]

so i'm gonna ramble a bit here

i had an interesting experience yesterday that i feel was a new life experience for me. i think i said goodbye to someone that i'll never see again, with full awareness of that being the case.

to elaborate a little, and provide some context..

try to remember some people from a previous time in your life that you fell out of contact with. not bc you didn't like each other or you had any specific falling out, life just took you in different directions and you never had the chance to say goodbye to them, bc you didn't know that the last time you saw them would be the last time ever (or at least, up until current day)

i think of two specific friends i had as a kid, one that was a friend in middle school and one who i knew in high school. nowadays i purposefully avoid most of the people i knew at that point in my life, bc we did have a real valid reason to never speak to each other again. but when i think of these two specific people, i remember that we never had a falling out. they never even really hurt my feelings, in fact they could've been the nicest friends i had during that point in my life. and i've thought about both of them over the years, even into adulthood, and sometimes considered reaching out to reconnect, to catch up, to see how they're doing and tell them about where i'm at.

and at the same time, that sounds so exhausting and like i'm just begging to have some horrible memories come back to me. not because of these individuals, but because of who i was when i knew them

maybe it's just a social obligation that we feel this "need" to keep in touch. i'm still the type of person who apologizes first when i'm responding to a message that i failed to get back to for over a week (and this happens frequently to me, i struggle with consistently messaging folks back even if i really really want to). whenever i think about these friends and i feel the urge to reach out and rekindle what was a lovely interaction for the time, i stop myself with the same anxiety that keeps me from reaching out to even the people i love the most. no offense to them nor the empty ache i feel when i think about them, but i'd rather spend my limited messaging energy on people that i want to be friends with now, that treat me well now, and that i love now. i've never reached out to these two people, even after thinking about them off-and-on for over a decade

this is all going to connect back in a second here, i promise

so now i work as a lead barista at a coffeeshop. the culture of the store i work at is extremely regular-focused, so i know pretty much everyone by name (and drink) who comes in on their own daily, weekly, or monthly bases. i really enjoy a lot of these people! they're interesting, funny, they've had a variety of life experiences and are all kinds of ages and backgrounds. i defo have some that i feel closer to, but even then i wouldn't say that any of them are really my friends, in the formal way of speaking

recently, a lot of our regulars have been moving away, and many have come by and said goodbye or at least informed us that they're leaving in the near future. it's never struck me super hard, even when one of them was one of my favourites. i think that i just didn't process the sincerity of their goodbye, and the reality of them saying "this could be the last time i ever see you." after all, we aren't friends. i'm their barista, they come to my store for coffee, and happen to enjoy me enough to spend some extra time chatting. it's no hard feelings that someday, some of them will move away, and not even think to say goodbye to me. i don't serve that role in their life, and they don't owe me those explanations. i say that genuinely and without any bad taste in my mouth

which leads me to the events of yesterday

one of my regulars is moving away to the other side of the country. it happened pretty quick; he got hired and was asked to relocate asap, so he is. i knew for a couple of weeks that he was moving and when i heard the news initially i was pretty bummed about it, but not any more than i had been for the others before him

he is someone who comes in almost every single weekday, orders refills and stays to work for hours, and sometimes comes up when we're not busy, just to chat with us about our own lives (which he remembers the details of if you tell him). he was also the first regular to be corrected when he used the wrong pronouns with me, and he never once messed them up again after that. even some of my favourites don't do that. i always enjoyed talking with him, he was always super friendly and interested, he made conversations easy, and he was genuine when referring to you by name and thanking you for making his drink (even if it was just a drip coffee with honey)

but anyway,

yesterday, he came by bc he was going to be selling an AC unit to one of my coworkers, who wasn't there at the time. my manager and i were closing and we told him he could just bring the unit to us and we'd keep it in the store until she was able to pick it up. he is leaving this morning to drive across the country to his new home, so this was literally the last time he could bring it to her. unfortunately we didn't have this conversation with him until we were just about closed, but my manager told him to just come back and knock and we'd let him in (which is a big deal, bc we are not allowed to open the doors again after closing for safety reasons)

so he did. he came back. it was half an hour after we closed, and he was helping us move the ac unit into the store. he stood in our lobby and chatted with us for a while. we got out late that evening bc we spend like ten minutes just talking with him. and at the end of it, when he was going out the door, i encouraged him to come back and visit any time, and he admitted that he found it unlikely he'd ever come all the way back up to the city we're in. for the first time in my life, his words clicked in my head in a way that i completely understood and i heard him telling me - "this could be the last time i ever see you."

i didn't really know what to do with that information. and i knew that i had a job to finish, and he had to go finish packing. without thinking, i said to him "i'm really glad i got to meet you." he gave me a really gentle smile and said "yeah, i'm glad i got to meet you too."

no hugs, no tears, not even a handshake, and not even an actual goodbye. just a shared sentiment that it was nice that our lives overlapped for long enough that i got to know who he was, and he got to know me.

i thought about this exchange for the rest of the night while we closed, and on my drive home. i realized that maybe those friends that i want to reach out to, i don't actually want to rekindle with them, or become friends again, or reminisce about a time in my life i'd rather move past. maybe all i really wanted them to know was that i was glad i'd met them. even if only for a while, i knew them, and they were kind to me. i enjoyed their company, and i called them my friend. and the time and distance we've had since then didn't change that at that point in my life, i needed friends like them. it doesn't mean i owe them a reconnection or a message or a long and flowery thank you; but in my own head, processing things that happened in that time, i am grateful to remember that those people were there, and that i knew them

and i hope they're all doing well.

[horsegirlsodapop]

arg! the outsiders fandom should all collectively talk more about poverty! ah! talk about cps. talk about food stamps talk about government cheese talk about stealing and not in the fun way talk about fear of going hungry talk about the reason the gang is a gang and not just a friend group. um. talk about dallas living in buck merril's like spare room talk about soda giving up his paycheck to darry so they can stay together talk about MORTGAGE talk about the vietnam war and poverty and enlistment and the draft! ah! talk about the class divide! talk about debt! talk about how darry could never "go soc" because no matter his skill in football or the way he wore his hair he could never rise above his socioeconomic class enough to be considered one of them! talk about paul holden punching him in the face! talk about county lock up! talk about police brutality! talk about pony craving escape!

[quillium]

things TeSTAR has canonically done that drives me nuts (spoilers!!)

Kim Raebin was accused of plagiarizing... himself.

Park Moondae arranged a concert with someone who kidnapped and attempted to murder him. UNPROMPTED.

Cha Eugene ran away from his hotel room in the middle of a massive problem that he caused with only a single note. He also didn't bring his cell phone OR wallet.

Seon Ahyeon tried to put Moondae in a psychiatric hospital (DESERVE)

Keun Sejin believed Moondae when he said he was a transmigrator with basically zero proof. Hello???

Ryu Chungwoo got into a serious car accident that destroyed his whole life and career and immediately was like. Haha what if I join this idol survival show. AND DEBUTED AS LEADER.

Park Moondae caused an entire company to dissolve

Bae Sejin: [started IdolCo with 0 basic skill] "I think the most important part of being an idol is basic skill"

Keun Sejin was the first person to surpass the System's potential limitation (!!!)

[smoozie]

Renchanting fans have been waiting, starving for years. And they've just been given a royal feast

[tunastime]

ok ok?

Once again, Etho and Bdubs find themselves in the same predicament: navigating the complex relationships of their lives while trying to keep each other safe. However, unlike the times before, they have a little bit of a better understanding of each other. And a little more commitment to what they've made together. Or: like every time before, Etho and Bdubs have a conversation. This time, it feels good. (1584 words) (x)

The light sky is waning fast, the fringes of the horizon still orange with fading sunlight. In it, the small, deepslate keep is almost purple, the warmth of the day still held close in the humid river air and sun-warm ground. Inside, Tango is fast asleep. The sniffling breaths he takes are muffled slightly by the noise of nighttime: crickets and salmon and birds. Bdubs is among these noises as he lowers himself to the ground at the base of the keep, dropping his pack and resting against the cooling stone. He tips his head back, letting out a long, tired sigh through his teeth. 

Above him, as he widens his eyes and raises his eyebrows, he can see the beginning pinpricks of stars. He hums to himself, reaching up, eclipsing for just a moment the spread of the planets and suns he’s learned so well from stargazing. The motion feels familiar, in its own, strange way. He stares up through his fingers before he drops his hand into his lap. Bdubs shuts his eyes, letting out another slow sigh.

From beside him, Etho clears his throat. Bdubs startles, immediately cracking an eye at him, shifting around to pretend like he hadn’t just jumped. Etho snorts.

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, that familiar smile to his voice and a crinkle to his eyes. Bdubs blinks his eyes open, furrowing his eyebrows as he gives Etho a quick once over. He crinkles his nose.

“You gonna nag me again?” he asks. Etho huffs out a laugh.

“Me?” he grins. “Always.”

Bdubs sighs again, slumping back against the cold deepslate tile. He rolls his eyes. 

“Alright, wise guy,” he grumbles. Then he pats the grass beside him. His hand comes back slightly dirty. Etho laughs under his breath as Bdubs waves his hand, trying to shake off the dirt before he ungracefully smears his palm onto his pant leg. After a moment, Etho sinks down beside him, letting out his own, tired sigh in relief.

“How ya feelin’?” Bdubs asks, shifting his body ever so to face Etho better. He glances over at him. Etho glances back. He raises his eyebrows and, in the fading light, looks less tired than normal. Bdubs for a brief moment wonders if it’s his doing.

“Mm?” Etho hums. “Pretty good, all things considered.”

Bdubs nods.

“Good,” he says. “I’m excited we’re together again, y’know.”

Etho snorts. He raises his eyebrows in question.

“And Tango?”

Bdubs makes a face. Duh. “A’course.”

Etho laughs again softly.

“Me too,” he says, all pleased like Bdubs had said something he found funny. Bdubs likes that tone of voice a lot. It means only good things out of Etho. Which usually meant good things for Bdubs, too. 

They lapse into a silence then, both comfortable and apprehensive. Etho fiddles with his hands, the skin of his fingers, picking at the nail beds in a show of his bad habit. Bdubs wants to grab his hands and force him to stop, as much as he kind of wants to tell him to just ask whatever question he’s holding himself back from, but Etho rolls his shoulders and settles back against the tile and seems to relax, so for a quiet moment, Bdubs watches his eyes flutter shut, and sees the pale eyelashes against his face in the rising moonlight. His chest seizes for a moment. Then Etho hums out:

“‘M sorry I forgot that one time,” he says, almost muffled through the mask he’s still wearing. “Bout the dragon.”

Bdubs blinks. He almost asks, albeit stupidly, what dragon. There’s a moment where his mouth opens and closes as he tries to remember what in the world Etho could be talking about. Dragon. Dragon. When had he fought the Ender Dragon recently? Not Hermitcraft, not this season at least. Later than that? Why would he be bringing it up now if it were something from this world? Unless he means. 

Ah.

Of course, this train of thought for Bdubs lasts only a second. And it’s in that second that he finally stammers out:

“Oh, what?” and clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Nah, Etho. Don’t—that was so long ago. Don’t you worry about that.”

“You’re not mad?” Etho asks, tilting his head over. His eyes open to peer at Bdubs. It feels like his pupil is consuming his iris, the way the dark brown and black of his good eye muddle together in the dark. It’s black like the night sky. His eyebrows furrow as he looks over Bdubs’ face. Bdubs snorts.

“Oh I was furious,” he finally says, tearing his eyes away from Etho’s face. Warmth crawls up the back of his neck. He stares at Etho’s unfolded hands, which have come to rest palm up on his knees. “But now? You think ol’ Bdubs carries grudges?”

He looks up at Etho again. Etho shrugs, looking away.

“Uh… yeah?”

Bdubs blanches.

“What! No—not with—” he stammers out. Etho pales even further, visibly swallowing. “Etho!”

‘What!” he squeaks out, spreading his hands, shoulders coming up to his ears. Bdubs swats at him, grumbling as he whacks fabric. 

“Not for you,” he huffs. Etho deflates a fraction—at least, his shoulders come down from the sides of his head. He tilts his head, eyebrows still raised questioningly.

“You sure?” he asks. Bdubs sighs.

“Yeah. Not anymore,” he says, folding his hands together, unfolding them, fidgeting with his fingers. For whatever reason, a prickle of nervousness stores away in his stomach, forcing him to swallow to try and push it around. He sighs, stretching out his hands. “We… we play these things differently. I know that now.”

Etho, from his peripheral, nods once.

“Oh…” he says, voice mellowing out. He sighs too. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

“Yeah,” Bdubs says. He reaches out after a beat, knocking his fist into Etho’s shoulder. Etho wobbles, eyes crinkling. “I missed hanging out with you.”

“You—” Etho wheezes, voice peaking suddenly in amusement. Any higher and they’ll really risk waking Tango. “You see me every day!”

“Well!” Bdubs huffs, folding his arms. “This is different!”

Etho shakes his head. The tufts of white hair being held back by his poorly tied headband come loose all at once. He sweeps them back unsuccessfully, scrunching up his face.

“I dunno Bdubs,” he argues, squinting at him. Bdubs rolls his eyes dramatically, hunkering down over his folded arms. “Feels a bit the same, don’t’cha think?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Etho shrugs, relaxing again, leaning back against the cold stone. He finally tugs his mask down and off as he settles, turning his face from where it rests against the stone to give Bdubs a once-over. He smiles and it’s all slightly crooked teeth and sharp canines and wrinkling his nose. Bdubs’ lungs squeeze painfully. 

Maybe that’s the reason that he leans forward and grabs a fistful of Etho’s shirt. Maybe it’s the reason Etho’s hand ends up on his knee, then his thigh, then his hip as Bdubs kisses him. Maybe it’s the reason he feels Etho laugh against his mouth and kiss him again. And maybe it’s the reason that Bdubs rests his forehead against his, nose against his nose bridge, and sighs the most profound breath he has in a while. The air leaves his lungs and enters warm and humid. From this close, Bdubs can see the faint beauty marks on Etho’s cheek. He smooths his hand back up Etho’s collarbone to his shoulder, flattening out his high-neck shirt, keeping his hand under the lip of his coat, under fluff and wicking fabric.

“Let’s not do something stupid this time,” Bdubs says to the point of his nose. “Okay?”

“Like what?” Etho asks. His eyes flick up. For a moment, they’re far away, fixed on a spot far from Bdubs’ dark eyes. His expression softens like he’s remembering something far too painful. Bdubs squeezes his shoulder.

He’s never gonna get that blood off his hands, is he?

“Like stupid traps,” Bdubs finally says, forcing a smile. Etho’s eyes clear just a touch, and he pulls a face.

“I’ve never made a—” Etho pauses. Then he grins. “A stupid trap.”

Bdubs rolls his eyes. It’s in this moment that he pulls away, shaking his head as Etho giggles at him. He smothers the sound with his hands, peering over at Bdubs over his fingers. It takes everything in Bdubs not to swat at him again. His face is properly warm now.

Instead, he shuffles over and makes his home at the dip of Etho’s side. He folds his arms, huffs indignantly, and presses his cheek to his shoulder. Etho makes a small squeak. He relaxes, though, and lets Bdubs lie against him for a long moment. After that moment, however, he presses his cheek to his head and says:

“I’m not gonna let you fall asleep here.”

Bdubs grumbles.

“Fine,” he says. He lets Etho untangle himself from beside him, takes both his hands when he offers to help him stand. In the slowly building moonlight, Etho and Bdubs trudge into the small deepslate fort. Etho’s hand stays in his, warm and solid. Tango still rests soundly, sprawled out on one sleeping mat at the other side of the base, tail twitching ever so in his sleep. Bdubs sighs again as he lies down next to Etho. It takes a long time for his eyes to finally close.

At least he has him now. He doesn’t want to let him go any time soon.

[defiledtomb]

we're so fucking back baby

[schneiderenjoyer]

MY TIME HAS COME.

You have NO idea how happy I am someone made a platonic shipping chart. I have so much feelings about friendships almost as much as gushing about my fav romantic ships. The platonic side of ships need more love too!

Go wild with the OG template here.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

I have opened tumblr for the first time in like 3 months and I just want to say thank you for all the asks and lovely messages whilst I've been MIA!!! I'm always overwhelmed by the love and support for my fics but idk this time it hit like crack. love you all and now my exams are coming to a close I hope to be writing soon. gonna answer some asks in the meantime whilst I have the energy. cute little life updates in the tags 🫶🏾

[gardenofearthlydelightss]

my heart goes out to all of jayce defenders rn because the next seven days are going to be ROUGH for you

[ssssssstarnnnights]

Spive (my wives)

[multifandombullshitbabes]

I feel like if you hate Haley, you simply lack either comprehension skills, or you genuinely watched the show with eyes and ears covered, cause aint no way.

Was it a shitty situation? Yeah. Was she right for the divorce? Yeah, actually, if they couldn't come to a compromise. That's what happens with relationships, people change, goals change, life changes. That's natural. Is it unfair to make Hotch leave a job he obviously loves? Yes. Is it unfair to assume your family is going to feel ok when you work a dangerous job that makes you absent a lot? Also yes. These realities can and DO coexist!!! The saddest part abt all of this is jack.

Could Hotch maybe trust his team a bit more to pick up some paperwork so he can have more time with his family and not spend extra hours not home? Yes!! But he wouldn't, cuz hes the leader, the protector, the parent, and he would NEVER make his team do work thats his. He'll take the sacrifice of not seeing his family as much. Because it is a sacrifice. He just also didn't want Haley to know how much it truly hurt to be away, cuz then SHE would be in pain for him n would want him to leave more, and then jack would ALSO feel the pain of both his parents.

Its a shitty situation, its sad, its complicated, its full of love, and its so REAL, and it is NOT Haleys fault. Why would y'all blame a mother for wanting the father around more often? Why would y'all blame a wife who doesn't want her husband to go away and never, ever come back?

Its what comes with the job. And sadly, Haley realised she could not do it, she could not be with jack knowing hotch could just be DEAD. Thats CRAZY. Its HORRIFYING. And it is the job.

[fromtheseventhhell]

Zutaras are really the original self-insert, "we understand the story soooooo much better than everybody else" girlies and they just never moved on

[navree]

okay, i don't mean to bring up drama (i really don't want to 😓😓😓) but since you're one of the few non-crazy hotd-adjacent blogs i follow, i gotta ask...where did the whole #teamfeminism thing come from?

You're too sweet, thank you <3

It's basically what I call Team Black fans, because their whole justification for feeling morally superior is that they support Rhaenyra, the female claimant in the Dance. And yes, Rhaenyra's usurpation is steeped in misogyny, it is predicated on that favoritism towards male-dominated primogeniture in Westeros and the disbelief in the ability of a woman to rule at all, let alone her specifically, that's undeniable and a big part of the story as a whole and her arc specifically in the show. But it's hard for me to view fans supporting Rhaenyra for fictional queen as an inherently feminist act when that apparently also means absolutely no appreciation for any other female characters (they despise Alicent for having the audacity to be a forced child bride, and they clearly don't care about Laena at all) and uncritical support for Daemon the Rogue Literal Pedophile. And it's certainly not very Feminist to take your issues with fictional characters and start harassing actual real women, calling Olivia horrible names not just in general but also to her face, making fun of Phia Saban's looks under the guise of mocking Helaena (another female character they dislike because she's not Rhaenyra), being so nasty about the child actress playing Jaehaera that she had to be recast when her mom pulled her from production, saying vile shit about Sara Hess because you don't approve of her creative decisions, saying that Olivia was having an affair with Ryan Condal to get Alicent more screentime, and in general being incredibly nasty towards female Team Green/Alicent fans (and my personal favorite, implying that queer fans of Olivia Cooke aren't actually queer and just being performative, because what's more feminist than denying women's sexualities just to seem cool on Twitter dot com?). Like, pardon me but your feminism isn't really feminism, it's a performative activism where you claim that, because you support one female fictional character's claim to a fictional throne, you're a feminist and then proceed to be incredibly anti-feminist and misogynistic in your actual actions in your actual life against actual women.

So it's mostly just an irony/mockery thing from me, given that members of Team Feminism seem to be the most anti-feminist and in general anti-woman people in this entire family, except for when they decide they want Rhaenyra to win and say they like two character traits of her's (cuz it's not like they see Rhaenyra as a full character either, but shrug dot emoji).

[soaps-mohawk]

omg... omg...

that chapter was DELICIOUS. i absolutely gobbled it up and licked the crumbs clean off the plate. holy shit!! i was giggling and kicking my feet the whole time.

and relating to that anon who said they're ovulating ✊️☹️ me too. not helping that other anons are talking abt exploring a daddy kink in crcb as if it's not gonna make me scream and cry in joy!! probably (in my opinion) the best kink to ever exist. maybe it's just the daddy issues 🤭

dude, i am just so proud of simon. he's come on in leaps and bounds with reader and i was in pleasant shock the entire chapter.

anyways pookster, how've you been? i hope you're alright 💞 lots of love!!

- 🪐

Thank you, thank you but also RIP you as well 😂 I had bad timing with the ovulating girlies.

Mhm mhm daddy kink is happening (as well as some other things 👀👀)

Ugh Simon I just adore him in this fic. I can't with him. He's too precious, my sweet little boy has grown up.

I'm alright. A bit manic so things are kind of crazy on the blog rn

[emile-hides]

Someone on my dash keeps posting really good really aesthetic photos of their inkling at Grand Fest, and I thought it'd be fun to do that too

And then I got really, REALLY distracted.

[klutzymaiden123]

I'm still currently re-writing Chapter 32, but here's a snippet of what's to come! Warning: these next few chapters will be sad.

Brown eyes stared back.

The mirror held her face like it did every morning. There was nothing different and yet, she still hunted for something. She wasn’t sure what—she never was. But the glass was inches from her face which gave her the appearance of someone quite vain. She supposed, in a way, she was quite a vain person. She was always concerned with how people perceived her, how they regarded her. She was constantly examining herself from all angles, in mirrors, phone screens, glass surfaces, anything that could reflect her shape back at her. She needed to be perfect. She needed to figure out what it was that people wanted, then mould herself accordingly. Lila Sawyer was vain and right now, she looked it. Checking her reflection so thoroughly while standing in the middle of the hallway. She should be getting books, not checking her hair. But her eyes had caught onto something on her face and she stopped. Examined the gaze. She supposed it should be something that she liked about herself. How much like her mother she appeared. She was, after all, a beautiful woman. And Lila knew that, so was she.

But right now, all she could see what set them apart. Namely, their eyes.

Her mother’s had been sweeter. They had been blue, but they had shone like lakes beneath the summer sun. They had been beautiful and still made Lila think of watercolours along the paper. Whereas, Lila thought that her own eyes resembled mud or a beast, an oak tree. There was something darker in her gaze. Something that made her different. Something that made her feel like she was still missing. Still failing.

She touched her hair. She had it in an elaborate updo that had taken too long to justify. But she looked beautiful, exactly like her mother would want. Exactly how everyone else would want. Everyone loved a beautiful girl, while also hating when that beautiful girl held a mirror to her face.

Footsteps alerted her that Helga was coming. Lila wasn’t sure when she had learned to distinguish her team’s footsteps from the others. But at some point, she had, and it had allowed her to prepare the right face.

Helga didn’t bother greeting her and slammed back against the neighbouring locker. She had her books to her chest and an exaggerated look on her face. She looked like a Shakespearean actor readying themselves for a monologue that lasted a few pages.

Lila felt her mouth twist into what she knew was a smile. Helga had always been dramatic.

Gently, Lila shut her locker.

“You look chirpy,” she pointed out.

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

“Is it because of Arnold?”

Helga made a face.

“I just had a whole conversation with the princess. We weren’t fighting,” Helga said, sounding quite proud of herself. “Well, not entirely anyway. We were both yelling about Amy Schumer. But! Before you say anything, we were on the same side. We were hating together!”

A laugh escaped Lila.

The sound made something brighten in Helga’s eyes as her theatrical expression melted into a grin.

“Trust ugly Zionists to bring people with common sense together,” she continued. “Fuck that imperialist nonsense.”

“And trust sleepovers to also bring people together,” Lila added. “Told you we talk about politics.”

Helga chuckled then launched into a retelling of the conversation. She didn’t spare any detail, adding in the appropriate facial expressions and switching voices when it was required. Although that, Lila knew, was pure exaggeration. Something you got used to when you were friends with Helga Pataki. It still astounded Lila that this girl had managed to fool so many people into thinking that she was nonchalant. She was the biggest ham that Lila had met.

But she nodded anyway, taking in what Helga had to say, until she noticed something from the corner of her eye—Phoebe.

She was standing on the other side of the hallway in a conversation with the members of the calculus club. Lila still wasn’t sure of their names, but she did recognise Nadine as one of them. They were talking about something that must have captivated them, because they hadn’t noticed that Phoebe’s attention had strayed from them.

Helga also hadn’t noticed that Lila wasn’t listening. She was waving her hands around and twisting her fists as her expression tightened into a frown. Lila had planned on moving her gaze back to her friend when Phoebe’s gaze connected with hers. It was a brief source of contact, but it sent a flash hurtling into her stomach. The results had her insides feeling charred and like she wanted to cough up ashes. Phoebe turned away and dived into her conversation with her team. Lila cocked an eyebrow. She knew that she was being harsh. The kind thing would be to let it go. It was in the past now and no one could do anything about it.

But she still hadn’t forgiven Phoebe.

It was ridiculous. Helga had—somehow—forgiven her, but Lila couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Phoebe’s choice had destroyed Helga. Lila had been the one holding that girl up. She had been the one to put her back together while crumbling herself. Phoebe wasn’t a bad fit for a Guardian, but that didn’t mean that Lila had to like her. Merely condone her.

They were allies, not friends.

The bell rung.

“Oop, that’s us!” Lila cut off the rambling and threaded her arm with Helga’s. “Time for your favourite: Mrs. Brown!”

Helga groaned.

“And I’ll be sure to sit with Gerald so you can be next to your true love!”

“. . . I hate you.”

🦋◻️🦋◻️🦋◻️🦋◻️🦋◻️🦋◻️🦋◻️🦋◻️🦋

Check out the full story here!

And if you're interested in supporting me? You can buy me a coffee!