#no one ever said anything to her face it was a ton of -respectful- looking

[i-dont-know-nor-care-go-away]

So pike is in his fifties and his actor is 51

Una is at least in her later forties, assuming star fleet academy is 4 years and she joined at 18, plus 25 years of service as mentioned in her trial. Her actress is 51

Why is pike fully grey and Una has not a single Grey hair on her head? I know she's Illyrian but I don't care.

I want to see aging women. Give my queen grey streaks. She puts up with so much bullshit. Why can pike have his tall ass completely silver hair but Una can't even have a streak??

This is purely out of righteous anger and not bc of my huge crush on Una. Me??? Liking older women??? You're crazy

[back2bluesidex]

Oh So Reluctant 2 - PJM (18+)

Pairing: Husband!Jimin X Wife!Reader

Theme: Angst, SMUT, little fluff, Arrange marriage au. Majorly Jimin's POV.

Summary: For the past eleven months that you have been married to Park Jimin, he has not looked at you the way he has been doing today. And there is sinister in his eyes.

Word count: 2367

Warnings: Angst, unhappy married life, Jimin struggles with his feelings, he tries to keep himself sane, jealous jimin, unprotected sex (stay safe), swearing.

Minors are NOT welcomed in this blog!!

A/N: This story was requested by lovely @chimmy-licious. This is the second and last part of the two-shot. Hope you all like it.

Part 1

If there is anything that Jimin has learned in his 29 years of life then it’s the fact that nothing lasts forever. When he was merely 18 years old, his father divorced his mother and shifted to the states. That’s the first event to break his concept of “happily ever after”. He always thought his parents got well together. They weren’t a lovey-dovey couple but they knew how to spend days and nights with each other without having random fallouts. But he was wrong. He probably never understood that what he thought was peace is actually the lack of communication. 

When Jimin was 22, he had his first real break up. He was in love with this girl and the moment she said she wanted to end it all, he felt as if his carefully constructed sand castle was crumbling down.  And this was the second time he realized nothing actually lasts forever. 

But he was still quite cheerful about his life. He had a ton of friends, went partying with them and led a prosperous life, thanks to his mom. And then came his 25th year and everything turned upside down. His best friend cum colleague betrayed him in the most unbelievable way. 

That guy, named Sung Kwon, was accused of recruiting trainees in exchange for money. When the company ran an investigation on him, he blamed it all on Jimin. Jimin, who knew none of it, felt his vision turning dark and his wit getting lost. Even though further investigation proved Jimin innocent, he already faced all the emotional damage he could. He then promised himself that he would never ever get attached to anyone ever again. And he kept his word by drawing himself in working and achieving new heights ever so often. 

He has had random hook-ups, one night stands, some acquaintances to drink with, some people to check up on him, but he never got close to anyone any more. That is why when his mother proposed to him to get married, he revolted. He couldn’t even think of getting into an active relationship and marriage? That was impossible for him to accept. However, in the end his mother won. He couldn’t reject her anymore given the fact that the lady had gone the extra mile to provide for him after his father left. 

When he met you for the first and only time before the wedding, he cleared it up that marriage is his mother’s wish, not his. You made a good impression on him that day. You didn’t seem to be the clingy type or the curious type. You were rather composed and listened carefully to what he had to say. So, he concluded you would respect his space after marriage. 

And you did, but not always. For the first six months you tried to get closer to him, which made him quite uncomfortable. You cooked dinners, planned dates, gave him meaningful gifts but he only felt guilt. Guilt of not feeling enough to do the same for you. Most of your interactions were awkward and your eyes would turn gloomy whenever there was a failed attempt of getting to know him more. And then you eventually stopped. You stopped trying anything at all. 

Suddenly there were no cooked dinners to come home to, no movie nights to understand each other’s movie preferences, no little gifts to look forward to. Only then Jimin understood he got used to it all. 

For the first six months, if Jimin felt anything for you then it was sexual desire. I mean, you are very attractive and sexy and he is a man with a dick, which obviously twitches seeing you in flimsy camisoles and shorts (even though you two don’t share a room). Nevertheless, when you stopped trying, he missed more than just your sexy body. He missed your face, your voice, your smile, your warmth and you. But his ego and cold nature never allowed him to approach you and he stayed holed up in his own space, lonely and guilty. 

Just a week ago you asked him to attend your company’s event with you. He was internally happy to have you finally talk to him but he was scared that he is getting attached to an almost stranger again. So he said no. He lied. He said he had a press conference to attend, while he had no important schedule that day. He could clearly see the way your eyes started glistening right away. His heart dropped. 

After a continuous battle with himself, he finally decided to give it a try. He decided to give you and this relationship a chance. He decided to talk to you about starting to take things slow rather than jumping into promises of forever. And the very first step of doing so was attending that event. 

He intentionally got late to make it seem like his claim of having this nonexistent press conference was true. He styled himself well, asked a hairstylist to do his hair and drowned himself in his favorite perfume only to find you wrapped around another man’s arm while talking about divorcing him. He saw red. He quickly understood that he is jealous as well as scared of the prospect of losing you. Fuck! He was already attached to you. 

“Who was that guy? Your ex?” his mouth runs on its own accord. 

“No. He can be my future though.” You reply calmly, as if it’s not a big deal to leave your husband behind for another man. 

“What makes you think I will let you go so easily?” Jimin confronts you and himself at the same time. 

“Your reluctance towards my existence?” So this is what he had made you believe? You think he is reluctant towards you when he is always hyper aware of your presence? No. This is not right. So he clarifies himself, “I am not reluctant towards you, Y/N. I am rather very much aware.” Jimin raises his voice a bit as if to emphasize his statement.  

“Aware of how much you don’t want me in your life?” If you asked him this question within the first six months of your marriage, he would have said yes. But he doesn’t feel the same anymore. 

“No! Quite the opposite actually.” he replies. 

That makes you take a look at him, as he already stares at you. You cock your eyebrow as if to ask for an explanation. When your eyes bore into Jimin’s, he finds himself getting entangled within his inner conflict. How should he explain what he feels for you? He knows he is attracted but is that enough to keep you in this worthless marriage? Will you even consider his feelings after the way he treated you? So he does what he feels like the best option. He changes the subject. 

“You look very… beautiful tonight.” Jimin doesn’t lie when he compliments you. You are obviously very beautiful but tonight your beauty is just overshadowing everything. He rakes his eyes through your body. Your exposed cleavage makes him want to bury his head on your chest, taste your skin and mark you as his, only his. 

You cross your legs and expose more of your skin as you catch him staring shamelessly. 

He smirks. One of his hands reaches to grab the supple flesh of your thigh harshly. You almost spit your drink out. 

“Don’t tease me, Y/N. I have been having a tough time controlling myself for these eleven months already.” Jimin’s voice drops down a few octaves. He is getting horny already. He knows it’s not right. He knows you two need to talk before getting into bed with each other but how can he keep himself sane when you look like this? His thumb draws invisible circles on your thigh. 

Your eyes widen as you try to play innocent, “What do you mean?” 

Jimin’s fingers glide higher on your smooth skin and it reaches where he has only imagined his fingers before. 

His digits hover above your mound as he mouths, “Let me show you what I mean.”

You seem to contemplate what he just said for a couple of moments but then you swat his hand away from your body. Jimin thought he finally got you under his spell but his confidence lowered the moment you declined his advances.

“If you think you can win me over with sex after making it clear that you don’t want me in your life, then… you are wrong, Jimin.” Your words are followed with a sigh. Jimin removes his hands from your thigh as he reflects on his choice of action. This is not what he wanted but he fucked up anyway. 

Just when he is about to apologize, he gets interrupted by that same guy from earlier. 

“Y/N, Mr. Choi wants to congratulate you. Could you spare me a minute?” The guy questions looming awfully closer to your body. 

“Sure, Taehyung.” You smile sweetly at him and Jimin feels himself turning green yet again. 

You walk away with this taehyung guy as his hand stays on the small of your back. Jimin glares at the sight. 

“Can I get you something, sir?” the bartender diverts Jimin’s attention. 

“A dirty martini, please.” he says briefly as his eyes remain only on your figure.   

This Taehyung guy is sly, he is on a mission of stealing you away from Jimin, that’s what Jimin concludes upon seeing Taehyung getting all cozy with you. But what bothers him more is that you don’t appear to be uncomfortable with any of it. 

Jimin takes a large sip of his drink as he observes you. Your body slots perfectly in Taehyung arms as you two talk to whom he assumes a stakeholder. Taehyung says something in your ear and you roll your eyes at him. Then he takes you towards the dance floor and you give him one of your blinding smiles. 

Jimin’s stomach feels funny, his heart tightens around his chest as he sees you swinging your body rhythmically with Taehyung’s. He places both of his hands on your waist and Jimin’s hold on his glass goes tighter.

You two look like a lovey-dovey couple when the truth is that he is your husband and he is sitting here alone watching you. The urge of claiming you overpowers his rationality as he finds himself leaving the barstool and walking towards you.  

“Let’s go home. It’s quite late already.” Jimin says a bit loudly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turn to look at him with an unreadable expression. 

“I don’t wan-” You start but he cuts you off.

“We need to talk, Y/N. Please.” 

You nod at him defeatedly. 

He waits in his car while you bid goodbye to your colleagues. 

“Are you really planning on divorcing me?” Jimin questions you as he drives towards home. 

“If that’s what makes both of us happy and less burdened, then yes.” you seem to choose your words carefully, as if you have given this subject a thousand thoughts. 

“I- I don’t want so. I wanna give this a try. Give us a try.” Jimin’s voice trembles a bit. 

You look at him, “I understand if you are feeling overwhelmed after seeing your married wife with another guy. It’s not what you think it is, Jimin. You just feel possessive because I wear a ring of your name, not because you feel something for me.” 

“No, Y/N. I know myself. I know what I feel and what I don’t. And I-” he gulps, “I think I developed some feelings for you.”  

“Jimin, you are mistaken.” you try to reason. 

“I never felt this much jealousy in my entire life. I was not only possessive but I am still very much jealous because that guy knows how to make you smile and make you feel comfortable around himself and I don’t. I hate myself for that. I am your fucking husband and I can’t even make you smile!” Jimin scolds himself. 

“You never tried. I am sure you would have succeeded if you at least tried.” Your eyes drop down on your lap. Jimin knows you are teary. 

“I am sorry. I am so fucking sorry, Y/N. I will try. Give me a chance. I will try my best to push away all of the insecurities and be there as your husband. A husband that you deserve.”  

You don’t reply but Jimin hears a faint sniffling sound.

“You will give me a chance right?” he pesses on. 

“Well I guess it’s not too late.” You reply, finally smiling at him through tears. 

“Do you even have any idea how I felt when I saw his hands grazing you in places I never did?” Jimin’s breathy voice fans over your mouth as he pounds into you restlessly. His hold on your thigh goes tighter, making his nails dig into your flesh.  

“How did you feel?” you place your question, grabbing Jimin’s shoulder for your dear life. 

“I felt like dragging you off the dancefloor and fucking you on the bartop for everyone to see. Everyone should know you are mine. Right?” he bites on your collarbone and earns a whimper from you. But you don’t provide him with the answer he is looking for. 

He slaps harshly on your naked butt while pressing you more on the glass window of his bedroom. 

“Fuck. yes. Yes! I am yours, only yours. Fuck-” You feel yourself getting closer to a dizzying orgasm. “I’m close.” 

“Me too. Hold on a bit more, baby. Let’s finish together.” Jimin’s hand leaves your thigh alone as it flies towards your cunt. His fingers start abusing your clit and send you over the edge.

“Jimin, I- I can’t-” You pant hard. 

“Cum now.” Jimin commands and you comply. You cum on his cock as he spills his white hotness inside you. 

You two come down from your high connecting your foreheads together. 

“So… Do you still want to divorce me?” Jimin chuckles at your ruined state. 

“Absolutely not.” you reply, pulling him down for a kiss as if to seal your fate together.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @whipwhoops @cherrypopthatbean

[perseephoneee]

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓥

In which, you, a lady of the ton, are forced to participate in courting season. Except that courting season comes with one particularly silver tongued Prince who is making it his mission to drive you absolutely insane.

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a/n: i'm so sorry for the delay in this. i was in spain this past month, and then i was finishing out my classes before i graduate!!! i am graduating this next Saturday with my bachelors which is crazy. and then i'm off to Columbia journalism school for the summer. i'm basically just rory gilmore at this point. anywho...thank you for being patient with me. i love you all.

Vulnerability was not something you often expressed, and unfortunately, it opened a floodgate of emotions you weren't ready to approach. Every night that passed was plagued with the same sly grin or those mischievous green eyes. You felt yourself going crazy, waking up with a beating heart and shaky hands. You needed to get your act together and fast. Even your family was starting to notice your strange behavior.

It was already evening, and you had another dreaded dance to attend. Apparently, there were professional dancers this time. Anything to entertain the Queen, of course. You stared at yourself in the mirror, a sage green dress hanging from your figure, delicate beads embellishing the bodice. With gentle hands, you also put on a golden locket, one of the last things you had of your mother. Sometimes, you wished it was societally appropriate for women to wear breeches. They were much more comfortable anyway and made for a better escape.

Ivy was already waiting in the carriage when you arrived. Grandmother liked to always take her own carriage, something you appreciated more often than not. It allowed you to be left alone with your own thoughts. You sighed deeply when your back hit the cushion, and the horses carried you off. Ivy shot you a look. 

"I thought you would be more excited to be seeing your lover," she cooed, slapping your knee playfully. 

"I find these events exhausting," You sighed, brushing your hair out of your face. "And he's not my lover."

"That's not what I've heard," Ivy said. "The grapevine whispers of an imminent engagement. I heard Grandmother discussing it with a representative from the Odinson home."

That was news. News that caused a pit in your stomach rather than butterflies. Marrying Thor was the goal, was it not? He was kind and respectful and would make a suitable husband. Still, you couldn't help but feel resent the idea. Ivy noticed the look on your face. 

"You don't want to marry him."

"I didn't say that," you tutted, folding your arms defensively. 

"It's evident by the sour look you wear," she frowned, but not from disappointment. More so, concern. “Y/N.”

"I will do my duty; is that clear?" You hissed. Any other person would've recoiled from your sharp tone, but Ivy had known you too long. She placed a hand over yours, every part soft and nurturing. 

"It is alright to say no," Ivy said softly. For the first time in a long while, she felt every bit your older sister and not the ditz your Grandmother loved to portray her as. "You have permission to say no."

You didn't get the chance to respond as the carriage pulled to a stop. Her words soothed your heart in a way you didn't expect. Permission to do something for yourself wasn't anything you'd heard before. It was always the expectation that you would protect your family and secure your future. No one had ever told you that you were allowed to choose otherwise. 

Entering the ballroom, cream gauze adorned the walls, accompanied by flickering candlelight. The mood was intimate, and everyone seemed to twinkle like the fountain in the middle. A performance was occurring with scantily clad dancers, but you weren't fazed. You're sure the ton would have something to say about it, though. Unlike them, you found being able to see their bodies to make the movements captivating, and you envied how they moved with such freedom. You were so enraptured by the dance that when you eventually noticed the Odinson brothers across the room, you froze up. Ivy hadn't left your side yet, and you grabbed her hand, hoping she'd stay by you. She gave you a worried look, but you ignored her. You were insanely nervous. If a proposal was imminent, then your anxiety was going to get the best of you. This is what you want; you kept chanting to yourself, hoping to believe it.

You saw Thor try to make his way over to you, and you quickly ducked behind a couple, dragging Ivy along with you. You kept finding ways to have someone blocking the path to you and the blond prince. At some point, you fetched a drink and had it in one go, smiling kindly at the waiter, who looked at you bewildered. You let Ivy's hand go when you reached for the drink, and she maneuvered off despite your protests. Hiding in the back, you allowed yourself to grab a second drink right as the dance ended. Unfortunately, that meant the path to you was straightforward, and Thor quickly approached. 

"M'Lady, it has been an adventure to reach you all night," he smiled. You quickly put the glass back on the tray and looked him in the eye. 

"Apologies, your grace, the…dance was quite enrapturing," you choked out, feigning a smile. 

"Dancing can be quite entertaining; I always fancy myself a dance with a beautiful woman when I can," Thor looked out to the crowd with his hands clasped, returning your gaze fondly. You heard the orchestra ready a waltz as Ivy walked close to you. You cut off Thor right as he was about to ask you to dance. 

"My sister is an excellent dancer; you should give her a twirl," you grabbed Ivy as she walked by, forcing her in Thor's direction and quickly maneuvering away. You couldn't deal with suitors at this point. That meant potential marriage proposals, and frankly, you were terrified at the prospect of getting proposed to right now. 

Your quick escape led to an unfortunate collision with the only other prince you were hoping to avoid– Loki. He stabilized you before quickly pulling his hand away as if you were a fire too hot to touch. His green eyes look at you inquisitive before his lips pull up into a smirk. 

"Running away from the ball? Scandolous." He cooed. Your brows draw down at his smirk, rolling your eyes. He gives a glance at the waltz. "Care to join me?"

"Excuse me?"

"Typically, when a gentleman asks you to dance, one answers' yes' or 'no,'" Loki chides. "So, care to join me?"

You paused, taking him in before giving him a slight nod. He extends his hand and leads you out onto the floor. You can feel Ivy's gaze on you, but you ignore her as you both bow to each other. The music starts, the cello reverberating through the room as you take the first step into the movements. Loki never takes his eyes off you, something that would unnerve you if you didn't live in a fantasy world. His eyes were a forest in which you could perpetually wander. His hands reached for yours, twirling you around before capturing you close. You felt your breath hitch at your proximity and, luckily, could move away before you showed how his presence affected you. When the dance ended, you bowed before leaving, looking for any exit outside. 

You sighed in relief as the cold air touched your skin, caressing your cheeks. You heard the door close behind you and couldn't tell who you hoped it would be more. 

"Lady Chilton," Thor's voice spoke, disturbing the quiet of the night. You turned around, taking in his gentle expression. 

"Your grace," you breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You startled me."

"Thor, you can call me Thor," he chuckled, hands clasped behind his back. "I was hoping to talk to you." Your heartbeat picked up, but you nodded, brows furrowed. 

"You can always talk to me."

Thor pauses. 

"I had planned to ask for your hand in marriage."

Your brain processed his words. It took you a second for them to register. "You had planned?"

"It has nothing to do with your character," Thor reassured. "I find you quite intelligent."

"But you no longer plan to propose?"

"You don't want me to propose; I can see it clear as day," Thor, for his part, doesn't look upset. "I am not the one you want…I respect that."

"The one I want?"

"I admire you deeply, which is why all I wish for you is a love match," Thor smiled. "I never would've been able to keep up with your wit anyway."

"I'm…sorry for disappointing you," you say, feeling immense guilt. 

"You could never disappoint me, Miss Y/N," Thor smiles. You soften, taking in the tall prince. Thor was kind and gentle but masculine. You should be head over heels for him for all intents and purposes. But you just couldn't find yourself to feel that way. 

"I hope we can continue being friends," you say sadly. 

"I expect you will be more like family," he nods. "I wish you the best, Lady Chilton."

"Thor, I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"You will; my brother is not a patient man."

And with that, he left you alone in the courtyard. The door closed with a click, and an owl hooted overhead. The sky was a navy blue, the clouds obscuring the moon hanging over your head. As the breeze picked up and the leaves rustled, you pondered over Thor's parting words. 

My brother is not a patient man.

taglist: @gruftiela @eleniblue @iwrite-things @youneedanap @huntress-artemiss @linaax @pisces-celeste @marygoddessofmischief @saay-karani @choki.laufeyson @foxherder @lover-of-books-and-tea

[serendipitous-girl]

I was going yo write a multichap for sally face but i am much better at oneshots so i am scrapping that idea however i am sharing how much i had written so far

"Why can't you let us know anything about what happened?" You argued, glaring at the stubborn police officer guarding the door. Ms.Sanderson was somebody you held dearly in your heart and she was dead so quickly. Of course you wanted ton investigate but it was difficult when police officers wouldn't answer any questions.

"Get lost, little girl." The police officer ordered, glaring down at you. You rolled your eyes and started walking away, when in the corner of your eye you noticed a person with blue hair in pigtails. They must be new to Addison apartments and possibly your age.

"Hey!" You called out, rushing towards them. You got closer and they turned around, wearing a mask? (No, actually you realized it was a prosthetic something you had seen on TV recently.)

"I'm [Name] and I live in 202. What's your name?" You said, holding out your hand for them to shake. They accepted the offer, their hand cold (but nice) as they gave you a firm handshake.

"The name's Sal but my friends call me Sally Face." The person responded, voice slightly raspy and very masculine. Oh, so the new kid is a boy. There wasn't anything wrong with that, in fact its totally cool! "I just moved in and decided to check out my neighbors."

You nodded and smiled, listening to his words. He had such a soothing voice, it was incredibly easy to listen to. You were determined to make him your friend.

"Well I can introduce you to Larry, one of my best friends who also lives here." You said, hoping Sal would take the offer. You wanted to be his friend, if he doesn't want to hang out with you now will he ever?

Much to your relief, he nods and starts following you. Maybe he can help you figure out what happened with Ms.Sanderson! So will Larry, probably, but the more helping is better.

You passed by some of your other neighbors, which makes you describe them all. From the creepy Charlie to the strange Mr.Addison. It was hard to tell if he was listening since you couldn't see his expressions through the mask, but you kept talking anyhow.

"Hi, Lisa." You waved as you approached Larry's mom cleaning the floor. She looked up and smiled, smiling at Sal behind you as well.

"Hi, dear. Who's this?" She asked, although more framing the question towards Sal. He introduced himself, and Lisa did the same.

"Is Larry in his room?" You asked, wanting yo get back to the reason you had approached her. Lisa nodded and tossed you a key to her apartment so you could head inside.

"How long have you lived here?" Sal asked, walking side by side with you. He looked at you, one of his eyes a gorgeous blue color that was so vibrant it was surely electric. His other eye was a much more muted blue although just as pretty..it seemed he had only one eye that actually functioned.

"Probably as long as I can remember." You chuckled, shrugging, "I've grown up in Nockfell and I think I've pretty much lived at Addison since I was a toddler. Where are you moving from?"

"New Jersey." He replied, voice a bit more curt. You winced and noted it as a touchy subject, hopefully Larry won't bring up any of this when you see him.

Finally you two made it to the basement and you unlocked Lisa's apartment, "She gets to live here basically for free since she is the janitor. Larry is her son and he's our age."

Sal nodded and followed you as you entered the apartment. "Larryyyyy," You yelled, "Get your lazy ass out of your room!"

A few seconds go by and surprisingly enough Larry walked out of his room. He was tall with long hair (that looked surprisingly soft despite him being terrible at taking care of it) and of course a Sanity Falls t shirt.

"Whoa, dude." Larry said, laying his eyes laying on Sal, "Nice mask!" He gave Sal a thumbs up, the bro code for gaining his respect.

"It's a prosthetic," You corrected at the exact same time Sal says it too. He glanced at you, seemingly surprised.

"How did you know its a prosthetic?" He asked, eyes boring into your skin. Your face warmed and you looked away, unused to such a piercing stare.

"I just guessed since I have seen them on TV before." You replied, trying to hide your fluster. Larry raised his eyebrow at you, noticing your reaction but luckily he said nothing. You would've fought him otherwise.

Sal nodded and left it alone, glancing around the room. He noticed the Sanity Falls poster and Larry started geeking out on him.

`ᘞ✿❀ᘡˊ°`ᘞ❀✿ᘡˊ°`ᘞ✿❀ᘡˊ°`ᘞ❀✿ᘡˊ°`ᘞ✿❀ᘡˊ°`ᘞ❀

"Is this a good idea? Probably not." You said, sighing as you realized what you guys were about to do. But it's for Mrs.Sanderson! It's necessary.

"Okay so I distract the officer while you too sneak into Mrs.Sanderson's room. I have one walkie talkie that you guys can both use." Larry says, tossing the walkie talkie to Sal. (Rude, you've known Larry longer.)

Sal and you both nodded, ready to get the plan in motion. You all exited Larry's room, with Larry going to her room.

You and Sal waited nearby, listening for the signal you can proceed. Your heart pounded and your blood felt charged with electricity, this was more exciting than you were used to.

Finally the walkie talkie crackled to life as Larry gave the all clear. You glanced at Sal and nervously smiled, rushing towards Mrs.Sanderson's room quickly.

Your footsteps echoed your heavy heartbeat, threatening to jump from your chest. You tried to mentally prepare yourself, it was going to be bloody probably and it could be scary. Stay calm, just stay calm.

Sal opened the door and courteously went in before you, probably since his noticed your hands shaking with nerves. Even though your fear was valid it was embarrassing. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you followed Sal and crinkled your nose at the utter stench of death.

You dragged your eyes through the scene, dark red splatters all around the room like a gruesome painting. Attempting to focus, you noticed something. There was a empty spot where the blood splatter went...like an object was there and got removed.

"Sal, Sal, look!" You hissed, nudging him with your shoulder and pointing at the spot, where it looked like there was a missing glitter pony. Sal nodded and looked at you.

"Good job! Now lets go before we get caught." Sal said, turning around and hurrying the way you both came. Footsteps were quiet and rapid as you guys practically ran out of the room before the officer came back to the room.

Once you were safe, you leaned forward catching your breath. Sal was staring at you, his emotions unidentifiable under his mask.

"Its cool that you noticed that earlier, I almost missed it." Sal said, giving you a small nod. Larry showed up a few moments later, a big grin in his face.

"Now we just have to find evidence in Charlie's room." Larry said, feeling serious about locking the creep up. And honestly, it made some sense that Charlie killed Mrs.Sanderson.

"I'm sure one of his glitter ponies has blood on it. That could be evidence." Sal said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, but he would flip out if we got too close to them." You pointed out.

Larry nodded, seeming a little deflated. You were too, how would you get close enough to the glitter ponies without Charlie trying to commit even more murder?

"He falls asleep when he drinks Mr.Addison's tea..maybe we could make it stronger?" Sal suggested, the observation skills being on point. You smiled, although not sure how you guys were going to drug Charlie.

"Do you guys have any sleeping pills?" Larry asked and you shook your head sadly. Without any sleeping pills how would you make Charlie go to sleep?

"My dad takes sleeping pills. I can get those." Sal said, and you all agreed on it. It was scary how easily your plans were working but there was no time to question your fortune.

Sal got the pills and you got the tea. Together you mixed the concoction and got ready to drug your neighbor. Normal teenager behavior of course.

"Since he might be a murderer and try murderous things, you can stay behind me." Sal said, holding the tea and staring at you. You gave him a warm smile, something that has been happening more since Sal showed up.

"Thanks, Sally." You said, following behind him as you entered Charlie's room. You had a plastic baggie in your hands, big enough to snatch up a glitter pony if you find it.

Charlie was sitting on his chair as usual, practically melted into the furniture. He looks at you as you enter, his eyes trailing down your skin. Ew.

"I got you some more tea." Sal says, handing the cup to Charlie. His eyes light up and he slurps the tea greedily, only to pass out right after.

"At least we know it works?" You said, before shaking your head and focusing on the collection of toys. Carefully you scanned each one looking for any sort of blood stain.

A presence stood beside you, Sal moved to stand beside you somehow completely silent. Finally he must have noticed the bloody pony because he took the plastic baggie and grabbed it.

"oh, awesome!" You said, jumping when

[swallowedbyfandom]

When Lord Debling questions her about Colin, in that tone of voice that saids he has already made up his mind about the situation something in her snaps. She is so very tired of gentle society and their narrow minds. All of them no matter how worldly or intellectual they consider themselves to be are the same. Easily offended and overly entitled children, the lot of them. This ridiculous pretentious herbivore included.

She does not even bother to justify herself to him. She shall not explain herself to the sheep of this society any longer. She is done with them all. She meets his eyes with her head held high and responds.

"I can see that after speaking with Miss Cowper, a lady who has desperately sought your hand you believe you already have the answer. I will not waste my breath explaining myself to someone so willing to believe the worse of me. Thank you for showing me your true nature before I made a mistake I could not take back. Safe travels, my Lord."

She gives him a graceful curtsy before turning on her heel and walking away. She can feel him watching her as she walks away. She manages not to laugh at the look of sheer disbelief he had worn on his face. It appears no one has ever denied him anything before. She hears him call after her but she does not look back.

Let the whole Ton watch as Cressida scrambles after her leftovers. Let Cressida live with the knowledge that she is his second choice. She can have his hand knowing that he is hers only because Penelope rejected his suit first. She has handed her a hollow victory, Cressida's pride will eat her alive. Never will Cressida rest easy in her marital bed. Penelope knows she will linger between their sheets like a ghost.

Colin Bridgerton gets into her carriage and ruins her night further. His grand confession was of course given to her under the cover of darkness. Where there would be no risk if she rejects him. His declaration is beautiful. As a writer his words are perfect, heartfelt, and almost enough. They do not have the intended effect on her however. If anything his declaration makes one thing clear to her. She does not trust him. He does not respect her.

She lets herself fall to his seduction after all if she is to be a spinster she wants to learn her body enough to bring herself pleasure. That he thinks that entitled him to her hand in marriage is so laughable that she does not even bother to ponder her answer. She politely declines, "No thank you, Colin."

She has her carriage take her home quickly after. She is done with Bridgerton delusion and hypocrisy. She just wants to get her article out and then sleep off this hellish night. She is sure her mother will be angry tomorrow morning but she does not have it in her to care anymore.

She thinks she shall enjoy the rest of this season as a spectator sport before forging documents and running off. She has enough saved up that she can buy herself a cottage and live for at least a good 10 years comfortably with a small staff. That is plenty of time for her to come up with new avenues of sneaky income.

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 6/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

Some other happenings while Lucifer was in Heaven.

Reminder: Read story 1 first before starting this series! It adds some context and of course, I think it's a pretty neat prequel

-----------------------------------------------

The demons in the hotel have dispersed just after their King left for Heaven. Most kept themselves busy despite being worried because, really, what can they do except wait?

Charlie said goodbye to the Sins whom were going back to their respective rings. As much as she wants to have them at the hotel with her until her dad comes back, she understands that they can't leave the other rings unattended for too long.

Beelzebub: I really wish I could stay, baby girl. But I'm just call away, okay?

Satan: All of us are, Charlie. If you want, I can have Damien visit and wait with you?

Charlie: That's okay, uncle. I wouldn't want to bother him for something like sitting around and waiting.

Satan: If you're sure, your majesty.

Charlie: I- I'm not- I'm just acting Queen.

Asmodeus: Charlie, you are no less of a Queen as your mother was just because it's not permanent yet. As long as Lucifer is not here, you are our Queen.

Mammon: Heck yeah! By the way, do you want queen shit merch? I bet we would make a ton of money with your face in every tshirt or coffee mug!

Charlie: Haha. No thank you...

Mammon: Your loss! If ya ever change your mind though-

An elbow to his gut cuts Mammon off his never-ending, and in Charlie's honest opinion, poor sales pitch.

Mammon: Fuckin bitch! No woman is as brute as you-

Another hit sends Mammon writhing on the ground that made Charlie channel all her self-control not to laugh in his face.

Belphegor: Do shut up, Mammon. You are embarrassing yourself. If you have any questions regarding your duties, you can ask any of us. Except Mammon.

The Princess (acting Queen!) of Hell is so touched by the support of her aunts and uncles that she almost teared up. If not for Vaggie's eyes that never left her, she would've ugly cried already. She tries not to let her Uncle Mammon's pained shouts of 'f-f-uck you, Bel!' ruin the moment for her.

Leviathan: Call us when your father comes back.

Charlie: Of course! Thank you all again for being here.

Leviathan bends down to give Charlie a bow.

Leviathan: Of course, our Queen.

Giving one last goodbye hugs to each of them, Charlie doesn't notice Alastor with his ears pulled back. Husk does though.

Husk: Boss?

Alastor: Yes, dear Husker?

Husk: Ya alright?

When Alastor doesn't answer, he follows the deer demon's stare in the direction of Charlie and the Sins. Husk knows that meddling with anything Alastor will just get him scolded like all the other times he tried to express concern.

He'll never admit it but he did come to care for the psycho even just a little bit. Is it Stockholm Syndrome? He's not sure.

Regardless, if something was bothering Alastor then he and Nifty would get dragged into it eventually. So tries to reach out, even if his boss don't like it. Egotistical prick.

..

Husk felt a chill ran down his spine when he catches the Sin of Envy looking directly at their direction. More specifically, at Alastor.

'What the hell?'

He hears Alastor click his tongue then disappear to fuck knows where. And when he turned back to where the Sins were, it looks like they had left.

And so did the Sin of Envy.

Angel: Huskie! I need that drink ya always make me!

Husk only hopes that whatever that was doesn't bite any of them in the ass.

Husk: Yeah yeah, I got it.

-----------------------------------------------

Alastor went straight into his room but someone was already there, sitting in his little dining set up by the bayou.

The static he lets out would've scared any other demon but this one just looked at him in exasperation like he isn't the one trespassing in someone's private bedroom- in his territory!

Alastor: Ľ̷̹͚͚͔͓̥̭͂̃̓̉ë̸̻̳́a̶̱̦̻̱̼̔̚v̶̥̗̜̎̽̈́̂̋͆̊̔e̷̤̝̰̖̞̳̗͒̌͊͜͝!̶͍̯̠̃̔͆̈́

He summons black tentacles to attack the intruder but they stop just a hairs breath away. Alastor wills them, commands them, to strike but they don't move.

Leviathan: Using my own gift to attack me? Come on, Alastor, you know better than that.

Alastor bites his lips so hard, he bleeds.

Alastor: Y̷̥͐͑͝ó̸̗̇̾ṷ̴̧̟̺̀̅̕ ̴̧̡͕̈͜ṁ̷̱̰̞̰a̴̟̟͔͋̊͌ͅy̶̠͝ ̷̘̤̬̼͛̿̊̉ǒ̵̩̉̅w̴̩̍͑̕n̴̨̪͇̿̕ͅ ̸̧̤͈̀͋͠m̵̨͑ͅy̴̦̻͔̐͒͐̉ ̵͍̱̩̐s̷̯͂̄͂ò̴̖̺̩u̵͍̣̱̯̾̂͛l̶̻̭͖̾̾̊ ̸͖̱̍͝b̷͚̳͗̔̄͝u̸͖͊̒t̶̩͑̈́̊ ̸͖͋t̴̙̔͂h̷̬̻̫̮̓͗a̵̘̋͂̏͘ẗ̴͉̍̇͜ͅ ̸͍͒͑d̸͚̥̬̣̋̉̊o̸̭̖̯̳͌e̶̻̗͍͉̓̔͑s̴̨̥̙̈́͂ ̷̧̓n̴̢̘͓͉͂̆o̵̰͕͚͌ͅt̵͍̘̄́ ̵̧̪͔̋̓͂͐g̷̹̻̹͊̀í̵̧̨̝v̵̛̛͓̞̮̿̊ͅé̸͇͇̑͒ ̴̭̱̝̞̿ẏ̴̠͚̐̐o̵̧̓͑ų̴̻̾͆ ̶̻͍̲̃t̸͕̗͖͛̌͠h̷̩͈̗̀ẻ̷͇̈́͘͘ ̵̮̝͍͆͑̚ŗ̷͇̻̖̓̂i̵̱̦̻̩͋͛g̷̻͛̃͂͘h̶̛̼̤͙̘̒̏̕t̶͓͔̮̔̊͛͛ ̶͙̑t̵̼̣͚̐̒̅ͅǒ̴̾͘͠ͅ ̴̞̏̓̊͝d̸̡̈́͜ó̸̢͎͓̉ ̴̗̥̮̳̈́̆ằ̵̲̖̜͑̇ṩ̸̡̇͠ ̴̦̮͔͊̑̋͑y̶̤̳̹̔o̶̺̍͋u̸͎̎̅͒͘ ̶͓̫͖̪̎̓͐͝p̵̥͑̓̌͑͜l̵͓͔̻̇̑e̴̺̐͋̂̃a̴̫͇̭̥̔̔š̶̞̝ḛ̸̃̊͂͘.̷̥̰̮̆͑́͝

Leviathan merely rolls his eyes and barely even flinches from the ear-piercing sounds the radio demon is emmitting.

Leviathan: Relax. I'm not here to make you do anything. But I won't stand this disrepect.

Alastor: H̸̭͈͕̾̌ơ̸̮̖̫͉̐͒̏ẇ̷̛̱̙͌̕ͅ ̶̖͕̲͖̏͌̓d̵̛͉̭̈́́̊a̵̬͇͎̽̅̐r̷̪̣͗̐͑e̶͚̯̠͇̋̎̑͝ ̷͍̫͎̒y̵̹͆̀̅̐ô̷̡̭̣̥̎̍ú̷͔̂́ ̵̡̺̯̓t̷̞̾ą̷̮̻̔̈l̴͇̲̅͌̎͛ḱ̵̡̭̜ ̷͉͂͝ơ̶̞͓͕͗͋͜f̸̮̮̻̰̂͝ ̸̡̭̏͐͆͠d̷͇̟͙̖̈̊ī̷͚̩s̸͚̰̙̝̍̔̀r̵̰̐̉e̵̲̳̜̿͐s̷̯̳̦͈̏͐̚͘p̵̜̆e̴̡͖͕̅̈́c̷̼͓͒t̴͇́̈́ ̴̮̳̗͗͛w̷̨̟͙̳̍͒h̷̡̡̗̼̏͋̄e̷̗̓̈̽n̵͔̥͛ͅ ̶̤̉̋̆y̸̪̤̬͙̿͐͝ǫ̶͓̊͝u̷͚̭̳͎̔̓͑-̶̛̗̀̌̕

The aquatic demon snaps his fingers and suddenly, Alastor feels his power leave him. He has not felt tis weak since he was human.

Leviathan: I think I'm a pretty lenient master, Alastor. I gifted you a fraction of my power and let you kill your way up. I don't even meddle in your affairs and yet you still disrespect me? I asked of you one thing since the day you came crawling to me for power: protect the Morningstars. And frankly, right now you're not doing a good enough job.

Alastor: I do not know what you expected from a mere sinner. Plus, I don't seem to recall you doing much better on that front, your Sinfulness.

Leviathan had to let out a laugh. He could admit, the demon says some pretty hilarious things sometimes. It's even cuter when he know Alastor means it.

Leviathan: Ha! You really are a cocky demon. Talking to a Sin like that? Did your darling mother not teach you anything about respecting those who are clearly above you?

Alastor: Only those who deserve it. Like Lucifer.

Alastor still can't get any semblance of strength to pull himself off the ground. He really hates having these rare meet-ups with his master.

The embodiment of Envy stands and the next second, Alastor is being pulled up by his hair, making him look directly at the Sin. He had been averting his eyes for as soon as he felt a shift in the air but the sudden contact forces him come face-to-face with the real eldritch horror.

Leviathan: Let's get one thing straight, deer. I don't care about you, but somehow you made Lucifer do. And I would do anything for Lucifer and his happiness.

The radio demon can feel the tentacles caressing his face and he wants to recoil in disgust.

Leviathan: So, the moment I find out you're just using him for your personal gain, I won't hesitate to eat you over and over and over again. You'll never know a day without pain.

Despite the threat, he can't help the words that comes out of his mouth.

Alastor: But I am.

And if he dies today, he hopes Lucifer won't be too sad.

Leviathan: What did you just say?

Rosie always did say he had a mouth that can rival Susan. Honestly, Alastor has never felt so offended.

Alastor: Did you not hear me, master? I am using him for my personal gain. But not in the way one might think. I'm using him for my happiness and... I hope one day he will come to use me for his.

His answer must have been enough because he's suddenly let go and he can feel his powers flowing back into inside him.

'Right where they belong.'

He brushes himself off like nothing happened. Looking around, it appears that nothing was damaged after the Sin's power-play.

Leviathan: I expect you to report back to me regarding any happenings with the Morningstars and the hotel.

Opening a portal to a purple sky and raging waters, Leviathan gives Alastor one last warning.

Leviathan: Don't disappoint me.

Tsk. He really hates politics.

-----------------------------------------------

Sorry for the little Alastor dialogue! But!!! Leviathan??

Color me surprised.

I am not calling him Frederick even tho I know officially, he's called Frederick von eldritch.

You telling me that youre one of the most powerful demons in Hell and you name yourself Frederick??

[spwiski]

marry me?

Annie Leonhart x gn!warrior!reader

Summary: The three times you ask Annie to marry you.

A/N: Had to write something for her birthday

The first time you had asked Annie to marry you, you were still in Liberio. A year until the mission to reclaim the founding titan and had been announced to be inheriting your respective titans in one month's time.

You remember the day vividly. You were both children, sitting on the steps of the Liberio headquarters. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the stone building behind you. You had been sitting side by side, watching the sky change colours.

Annie had said something to you, and you had turned to her, expecting her to continue the conversation. But she was looking away, her hands clasped together in her lap.

"Thirteen years."

You felt a sense of unease settle in your stomach. Thirteen years didn't seem like a lot of time. "Do you think we'll be ready?" you asked.

"What does it matter?" She starts finally looking over at you "We made it this far, you can't back out now."

Her words hit you like a ton of bricks. You had never considered backing out of your duty to reclaim the founding Titan, but the weight of the responsibility felt heavier than ever before. "I'm not backing out," you said, your voice firm. "I just, I don't know if it's enough time."

You looked into her eyes and felt a surge of emotion. You had always admired Annie's strength and determination, and you knew that you could count on her to support you through anything. "Annie," you said suddenly, feeling a rush of courage. "Will you marry me?"

That was the first time you had ever heard her laugh. It was a soft, delicate sound that filled you with warmth. She turned to face you fully, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "We're too young," she said.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment, realizing how ridiculous your question must have sounded. "I know, I know," you stammered. "I just don't want to waste any time."

In a way that was so unique to Annie, she told you with a stone-cold face "get lost." But you didn't take offence, how could you?

You chuckled at her response, knowing that Annie had a way of speaking her mind without holding back. "I'll take that as a no then," you said, still grinning.

Annie rolled her eyes, but you could see a hint of amusement in her expression. "You're impossible,"

The second time you had asked you were sixteen stuck on Paradis, just days from graduating from the training corps.

The two of you sat on her bunk as the others went to their last dinner in the comfort and safety of the world you'd all come to know the past three years.

"What now?" You had asked Annie, staring at the wall in front of you. It was a question that had been plaguing you for a while. In retrospect it was a stupid question, you both had the grades and skills to join the Military Police and that was the plan.

"Get the titan and go home." She said blankly.

"What if I wanted to stay?" You asked, knowing the answer but still wanting to hear it.

Annie turned to look at you, her blue eyes intense. "Then you would be an idiot," she hissed. "It's unrealistic."

You knew she was right, but it still hurt. "I guess so," You sigh "I've been thinking too much about what if things were different."

Annie let out a sigh, "I know," she said, placing a hand on your knee. "But we have a duty."

You nodded, knowing she was right. But then the words slipped out before you could stop them. "Annie, will you marry me?"

This time, there was no laughter or eye-rolling. Annie simply looked at you, her expression unreadable. "Why do you keep asking me that?" she asked.

"It'd be easier, us together, running away to somewhere where nobody knows us and we can live the rest of our lives in peace." You stammer

"That's just a dream though," Annie tells you

"What about us?" You ask "Are we a dream?"

"I don't know," She says "If we are, it's a nice dream."

The third time you had asked you were twenty. The war had been over for months. You and Annie were sitting on a bench in the park, watching children play. It was a rare moment of peace in a world that had been consumed by conflict for as long as you could remember.

Annie leaned her head on your shoulder, and you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You had been through so much together, and yet you still felt like there was so much more to come.

The world seemed more peaceful now, and you wanted to spend the rest of your life taking advantage of that.

"Marry me?" you asked, the possibility seemed closer now, like it wasn't an impossible joke and you weren't just asking so you could run away with her.

Annie looked over at you for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You know, you're getting better at this," she said.

You chuckled, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Is that a yes?"

Annie nodded,. "Yes, it is."

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Yesterday I saw a post that basically said that Avatar wasn’t a feminist show that has a bias towards Zuko and that no female villains get redeemed(?!?) 

And said that the show oversexualises Azula which like WHAT

This is not a Cuties situation the camera never accentuates cleavage or anything, if you just saw Azula showing more skin in the beach episode (because she’s at the fucking beach) and then immediately thought about sex that sounds like a you problem.

People really gotta learn what words mean - and that no show from nearly TWENTY YEARS AGO is gonna present social issues the same way modern series would. Avatar has two whole episodes in which the whole lesson is "Sexism is bad, don't mistreat women", and a ton of the female characters are absolutely badass and incredibly well-written. One or two questionable moments is not enough to make claim it is misogynistic.

A female villain not getting redeemed while a male character does is only sexist if her gender is presented as the reason why she can't be redeemed, or if they did all the same things but her actions are presented as worse - and while the ATLA fandom is often guilty of that last one (not always because of sexism, but also because of ableism), that doesn't mean the writting of the SHOW was sexist.

I say this as someone who loves Azula's character and wants a redemption arc for her: the show's ending is a tragic, but logical one. Not everyone changes. Not everyone wants to change, or even gets the chance to. It's sad, but it makes sense and there's nothing offensive about the finale (unlike the way Azula was treated in the comics, but once again the root of the problem there was "the mentally ill are inherently evil/beyond help so anything and everything done to them is justifiable").

"The show oversexualizes her" That one is bit more complex - but not THAT much.

Avatar is a show with lots of fanservice (see Zuko taking off his shirt causing birds to fly and fangirls to appear behind him squeeling), but all of it is stuff that was ALWAYS presented in a way that was 100% appropriate for children. More importantly, the show never tried to use the fanservice to compensate for poor writting or to make Azula an evil seductress (a trope that is not inherently sexist, but can become so if the writer isn't careful with it). Making Azula gorgeous in a scene, or letting Grey Delisle have some fun like the did during the confrontation Zuko and Azula had in The Awakening, is not the same as them reducing Azula from character to sex-object.

Once again, the fandom is far more guilty of the "Attractive means sexual and sex is evil" mentality than the show ever was. I lost count of how many people "theorize" that Azula is a "slut" who slept her way to the top and has even raped people (usually Zuko and Suki) even though the show made it clear she can't flirt to save her life, is so respected/feared because she's a great fighter/manipulator, and has literally never forced herself onto her brother and was obviously lying when implying she had done something Suki because THE SHOW ITSELF told us everything she was telling the Gaang on that scene was just an attempt to buy her father more time until the eclipse was over.

Some of the fans treat her as the typical "evil femme fatale that you can tell is evil because she sleeps around", but the show itself never did that.

Also a lot of what I sometimes see fans claim is "sexualization" is just mundane stuff. I lost count of how many times people were losing their shit because "WHY IS A FOURTEEN YEAR GIRL ALWAYS WEARING MAKE UP?"

Maybe because said fourteen year old is a perfectionist that can't even stand to have one hair out of place, so obviously she'd want her face looking perfect too? Or maybe she wants to look older not to "seduce" anyone but because she'd rather not risk not being taken seriously for being so young? And, crazy thought but bear with me here, maybe, just maybe... Azula likes make-up. Revolutionary concept, I know.

And it's not like the show ever got weird about it like the comics (seriously, girl is hallucinating in a straight-jacket and her hair is all messed up, but SOMEHOW she put on lipstic/the doctors did it for her????). She had a clean face when she was sleeping and when she was at the royal spa getting her hair done, and even at Chan's party her make-up is exactly the same she wears during the day. The "weirdest" place she wore it at was at the beach, and again considering it's Azula, who always wants to look perfect, I can see it.

Seriously guys, there's a difference between "TikTok is constantly telling women, teen girls and children they need to buy 37 different products that they gotta put on before anyone can *gasp* see their face" and "This cartoon had one of the characters constantly wearing make-up because that's a thing teenagers do sometimes + it helps the character be more memorable"

[zeravmeta]

yknow that saber/cu alter art post has me thinking it really is fascinating to me that saber and cu have a ton of similar qualities in choosing a heroic fate they knew would ultimately lead to suffering and like, the core difference between them I feel is that saber chose her heroic ideals for the sake of others and cu chulainn chose it for himself

saber in a lot of ways has a similar potential towards inhumanity/being monstrous the same way cu does (being referred to as a child of dragons, the stoic impassive uncaring face of a king no one really understands, the lion king as a whole is a prime example of this) where you can feed too deeply into one aspect of them but that would never really erase the base, cu alter even as a modified beast king is still proud to have been cu chulainn much in the same way that the lion king or saber alter are still at their core kings trying to support their people for the sake of their ideals. and like for all that those are definitely major parts of their beings it's not their whole, they could certainly Be monstrous and in some respects can be considered monsters but they are not only that,

and like what really makes this fascinating to me is that no one ever really tries to save cu chulainn from his heroism the way people tried to save saber from hers.

so many people saw the cruelty saber committed against herself for the sake of others and have tried to save her from it, which in turn led to their own types of disasters. you cant save the legendary king who already died because she still chose this fate for herself, but people still tried against impossible odds. you cant say that cu chulainn didnt also suffer for his heroism, anyone even halfway familiar with his story knows just how much he suffered for the sake of being a hero, knowing his fate would be that of a short tenure of unmatched glory. even if he did choose it for himself, saber also chose her own fate knowing it would lead to a disgraceful end, just because one did it for his own sake and another did it for the sake of others doesnt erase that it is still cruelty towards oneself to become a hero. and like, they also share the pride in their choices! for all that she knows she has regrets about its fall saber would still choose to be the king of camelot a million times over because it was worth it to her despite the tragedy and suffering, to try and stand for a greater cause as a king and a hero, much in the same way that even if he has way more blood on his hands than he would ever be comfortable with, knowing that there are more victims in his path than actual enemies, cu chulainn is still proud to have been a hero and would always choose to be a hero.

romani once said that once you become a hero you no longer belong to yourself, you are now something beyond human who has given up their chance in order to stand tall among the rest of human history. and i feel like this sentiment is the crux of both saber and cu's dynamics with archer and medb, because both of them see the person instead of the hero.

archer stands in a unique position compared to saber and cu because hes the nobody hero who's arguably suffered far worse than them but for all that he looks down on heroism he still does respect both of them deeply as heroes. hes able to insult cu as hard as he does during their fight at the church because he understands cu and knows how to directly spit on his pride, and as shirou there's every action he took throughout the entirety of fsn to try to connect with and save saber from the burden of being the unmatched king and hero. always understanding but never being understood he is every bit their equal as a hero but he does not really like being a hero. archer understands them as people and cannot accept them as heroes because hes so embittered by his own endless experiences as a hero that he cannot see heroism as anything other than an endless path of bloodshed. and in a lot of ways he is right, neither saber nor cu can deny that their choices as heroes led to far more people dying than they were prepared for, but that doesn't mean they didn't see those choices through to the end, and even now still would. in a similar vein, medb is the "king" equivalent of their parallel the way shirou/archer is the "hero" equivalent: medb does love cu, but she doesn't demand the heroic legacy of cu chulainn to be hers, the very first thing she did in america with a grail was try to alter cu so that he Wouldn't be everyone else's hero but a king who would stand at her side, and yet cu alter still ended up being as equally heroic as cu chulainn because the heroism is a core part of him, you cant take away any part of cu because they are inherent to the whole; cu chulainn may be a monster but he isnt only a monster, he is also a hero. knocknarea and catoria are also part of this, offshoots of the people they are based on where the core of their dynamic is what knocknarea wants castoria to take control of her own destiny and go forth not as a the legend but as the person. oberon describes that the only real difference between medb and knocknarea is that medb is simply the version whose searching for love but knocknarea was always searching for love and the one person she connected to in the century she was around in fairy britain was the child of prophecy meant to absolve the land of its sins, quite literally the hero who has to die in order to save the world.

saber and cu may be wildly different in a lot of aspects but they are ultimately two sides of the same coin on the idea of heroism. neither is right and neither is wrong for what is the best version of a hero or themselves, but what matters the most is that despite the suffering, it was still their choices to be a hero. maybe they could be saved, maybe they were saved, maybe they never needed to be saved in the first place, all of that is secondary to them having made their choices and dying for them. no one ever saved saber because you couldn't save her no matter what, but no one ever saved cu chulainn because he never wanted to be saved.

that is the price of being a hero

[natimiles]

Come a Little Closer | Chapter 5 (final)

Read: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Words: 4489

Pairs: gn!reader/Arthur; f!MC/Mozart

Tags: swearing; drinking; spoilers from Mozart’s and Arthur’s route in one big bowl of salad; lots of pet names (because I love it); MC is the one in-game, just to make it more clear; Mozart being petty; reader and Arthur being adorable and chaotic; suggestive scenes because we have Arthot as one of the main characters; Arthur simping over you.

Breakfast had been as normal as it could be. Dazai entered through the window, returning from who knows where; Theo stuffed his face with pancakes and syrup; and Jean had to be dragged out of his room to actually eat something. However, Mozart didn’t show up, and you didn’t hear him playing through the night, so you weren’t sure what happened.

When everyone finished and dispersed to their respective rooms and errands, you went to the kitchen to clean up. Arthur sometimes stayed to keep you company, chat about trivialities, and even help when Sebastian allowed him — and he didn’t approve much of Arthur’s help ever since the writer said he’d do the dishes, hit his arm on three glasses that were too close to the edge of the sink, and broke them. Today was one of those days that he stayed but wasn’t allowed to touch anything.

Sebastian went to Comte’s office, probably to give him his morning tea, while MC was assembling Isaac’s brunch. And Arthur pulled a chair to your side, hugging you by the waist while you finished polishing the cutlery.

“I’ll get this to Isaac. Be right back!” MC said, leaving the kitchen.

“Sooo,” Arthur said, a cheeky smile on his face. He got up to corner you against the counter. “Looks like we’re alone, my love.”

“Well observed, detective,” you giggled.

“Any ideas?”

"Lots of them,” you said, turning around to look at him. He grinned, but it faded quickly. “But none for right now because I have a ton of work to do.”

"Come on, honey, humor me," he pouted, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry, honey, but I really need to finish here,” you consoled him. “But I can make up to you some other time.”

“Mmm, tempting,” he leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips.

"For God’s sake, I don’t want to see it every time I walk into a room,” Mozart said, sounding disgusted. “I promised to behave, but you have to as well. And it’s not sanitary to do it here,” he frowned.

“Would you prefer we go to my room?” Arthur asked, smirking.

The musician looked at you, as if asking permission to kill your boyfriend right this instant. He opted to just groan and get something to eat. “Don’t push your luck.”

“I’m just teasing you, Wolfie. You need to get laid to relax a little.”

Mozart whipped around so fast to face Arthur that his neck snapped, his eyes widening in horror and surprise. He was blushing so hard that even his ears were red. You didn’t know if it was anger or embarrassment, probably both.

“Why would you say it out loud?” you sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Was?” His voice finally came out. Looked like Arthur broke your brother.

Silence. No one dared to say a word for a whole minute.

“Is everything okay, Mozart?” MC’s melodious voice cut through the awkward silence, prompting all three of you to stop staring at each other and turn to look at her standing in the doorway. You really liked MC, but now was the worst time for her to come back. “Your face is really red. Are you sick? Can I help you with something?”

Oh, no. 

“Yes, yes!” Arthur said. You gazed at him, seeing his grin widening on his face. You told him that you thought Mozart was starting to like MC, and he couldn’t resist such good timing for teasing. “I think you’re the only one who can help Wolfie right now.”

“Oh!” She took a step forward, her eyes filled with concern. “What can I do for you?”

Mozart didn’t say anything, just glared at Arthur and left the room, muttering something under his breath; you’d bet he was swearing in German. He didn’t even have time to grab coffee or something to eat before leaving, just some blanc.

MC followed the musician with her gaze until he was out of sight. Frowning, she looked back at you. “What happened? Did I do something?”

“No, you did nothing. Don’t worry.” You glanced at your boyfriend, a scowl on your face. “But you…”

“I didn’t know that would happen!” He raised his hands to try to defend himself. “But it was funny.”

“I’d sleep with an eye open tonight, just to make sure,” you sighed.

xxx

Mozart ran to his music room and slammed the door shut. He sat down on his piano bench to catch his breath; he wasn’t used to running. Yes, as soon as he was out of the kitchen, he ran. He didn’t know why, he just knew he had to get out of there. Usually, he was really good at ignoring Arthur or making a snarky comment back, but today his brain stopped functioning; the scoundrel really outdid himself. MC arriving didn’t help either; she looked so worried, his heart panged when he saw her face.

How was he supposed to look at her now? He knew he acted weird, and she wouldn’t let it slip. She was stubborn and usually did everything she could to make him talk to her. Wasn’t that how they started chatting anyway? He didn’t know if he should be grateful or not because this was the whole reason for his predicament now, but he really didn’t want to talk about what happened.

His mood soured when he realized he had no way out. He agreed to teach her how to play the song he composed for her. She’d probably look for him when she wasn’t so busy, and deep in his heart, he longed for the time he’d spend with her. On the other hand, he knew every lesson he taught her would be a countdown to the day she’d go away — the day she’d leave the mansion forever and never come back. He groaned aloud; his sour mood only worsened now.

Mozart looked down at the piano, attempting to keep himself busy, but he couldn’t concentrate. He wasn’t oblivious or dense. After spending the night thinking about it, he came to the logical conclusion that she was the shortest friendship he ever had because he was in love with her. And that’s when the problem really started. What should he do about it? Should he say something? Would she be mad at him if he told her about his feelings? Was there even a slight chance of her reciprocating? Would she stay if he asked? Did he have the right to ask that of her? He mistreated her half of her time in the mansion; would she even believe he was now in love with her?

He blamed your stupid advice; that was the reason he was going crazy. ‘Won’t hurt to just think’, his ass! He spent the whole night thinking about MC, without being able to reach a conclusion that made actual sense and wouldn’t hurt anyone. When he realized, the sun was rising while he was still staring at his ceiling in silence, his heart beating faster than ever before.

He didn’t realize he had missed lunch until his uncomfortable thoughts and lonely silence were broken by the worst person — again. Three knocks on the door and her sweet voice calling him.

“Mozart? Are you in there?”

He thought back to what Arthur said in the kitchen in the morning, how worried she looked, what you told him about his feelings… it all made his breath hitch in his throat. He heard her mumble something and realized he hadn’t responded yet. She was probably leaving, assuming he wasn’t there. Would she continue to look for him or just give up and go back to her chores?

“Come in,” he replied, his voice was hoarse, so he cleared his throat to try to make it better. He turned around to look at her, and as soon as she entered the room, her sweet, alluring scent hit his senses hard. He was so screwed.

“You didn’t show up for lunch,” she said with a smile that seemed to illuminate the whole room, and he thought he’d go blind. “So I brought you a plate and some blanc.” She set the tray on his coffee table, studying his face with a frown. “You look tired.”

“I stayed up all night.”

“Really? I didn’t hear your piano like I usually do.”

“I was in my bedroom, just couldn’t sleep,” he wearily answered.

“Mmm… If you need something, tell me,” she said, her voice filled with worry. “I’ll try to help in any way I can.”

“Yes, thank you,” he sighed.

“I mean it,” she said matter-of-factly, reassuring her support to him. He only nodded, and she smiled. “Great.”

He noticed how she stood in the middle of the room, looking at him and fidgeting with her fingers. “You want to ask about your lessons, right?” he inquired. She was too easy to read, and he found it delightful.

“Ah, well… yes. But I don’t wanna impose! You already spent the whole night awake, you should rest.”

“It’s fine. I’m free now,” he shrugged. If he was gonna suffer with her presence, it’d be better to just do it already. “What about you?”

“Ah, I need to help clean the kitchen, but then I’ll be free for a while!”

“Alright, I’ll be here then,” he tried to sound nonchalant as usual.

She left the room with a big smile and promised to be back quickly so as not to disturb his composing. If only she knew she was disturbing even when she wasn’t there — not that it was her fault anyway. With a deep sigh, Mozart got up and reached for the food and blanc she brought him, trying not to dwell on how the drink seemed to make no difference to his thirst.

xxx

Despite his heart telling him to scream from the balcony so the whole of Paris would hear that he liked MC, he didn’t do it. He kept quiet, even though it was proving to be hard to keep it to himself during their music lessons. And with each passing day, he felt like he was about to explode the whole mansion, because each day that passed brought him one day closer to her leaving.

“Wait, what was this note again?” she asked, pointing at the music sheet in front of them. Mozart had dragged another bench for her to sit beside him, to make it easier to teach her, of course.

“An E,” he replied patiently. “It’s this one here.” He played the key.

“Okay!” She tried playing again.

“Just remember, it changes when the clef changes.” She shot him a quizzical look, and he thought it was the most adorable expression he had ever seen on her face — at least at the moment; he believed she had many other ‘most adorable expressions’. He pointed to the music sheet. “Pay attention here. See? With the treble clef, it’s E. But with the bass clef, it’s G.”

“Ah, right…” She frowned and sighed. 

“Do you want to play with only your right hand for now? It’s easier.”

“No, I can do it!” She perked up and smiled again. She stared intently at the music sheet, and he heard her mumbling the notes to figure out where she should place her hands. “Here, right?”

“Right. But use this finger.” He gently guided her left hand, his touch lingering a second longer than necessary.

She hummed in agreement and started to play. She wasn’t the best music student, but he could tell she was really trying. Slowly pressing the keys, she took her time to think about which note to play and then executed it, prolonging all the durations. She was biting her lip in concentration, grimacing whenever her finger didn’t press the key with the necessary strength, and the sound was almost inaudible.

If any other person played the way she did, Mozart would find it hideous and make them stop. However, it was her. And as quickly as he figured out his feelings, he realized they ran deep, because, for him, she was playing something beautiful.

She was still in the first page and probably wouldn’t be able to finish learning the whole song before leaving, but he could tell that she was happy with just learning it at all. She had a huge smile when she turned to look at him, caught by surprise to find he was studying her face.

“A-ah… Erm… How was it?” She hesitated, the words seemed to fly away from her brain when she gazed into his eyes.

“Not the worst,” he replied.

He leaned over a little, enough to be closer than usual. Taking a deep breath, he frowned. It was already hard to sit beside her, but her scent was almost unbearably more intense this close. He twirled a lock of her hair around his index finger and brought it to his face, savoring her delicious scent as he kissed it without even realizing what he was doing.

“Um, Mozart?” she asked, her face blushing. 

“Are you wearing a new perfume?”

“No,” her voice was almost a whisper. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” he replied dismissively.

She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again when she looked into his eyes, noticing how they stared right into her soul. Her breath hitched, and she saw his gaze waver; it lasted for a second or two, but she noticed — she paid him enough attention.

He continued to stare at her intensely. With his keen ear, he clearly heard the hitch in her breath, and he wondered if he could also hear her heartbeat.

Could he hear her blood pumping in her veins?

Could he feel it?

Unconsciously, he leaned closer, entranced by his own thoughts.

He stopped when he heard her release a low whimper. What was he doing? His eyes widened slightly; he had never felt this out of control before. Though he should back away, he found himself unable to move. She showed no sign of retreating either. He assumed she was too stunned to move, and he was right, though not for the reason he initially thought.

She was already nervous around Mozart, but it intensified now. She wasn’t clueless or stupid; she knew she liked him, even if they had gotten close just a week ago or so. She didn’t want to tell him anything — not now, at least — and risk ruining the friendship they had just started. However, how was she supposed to keep it together when he acted like... that? She swore he was about to kiss her or... bite her — maybe both. Goosebumps ran up her spine, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm down her heart. Keyword: try.

“I-I’m on dust duty after this,” she stuttered, her voice still low. He raised an inquisitive brow, not following where this topic was coming from. “I’ll help Sebas with dinner later and probably go downtown with YN to run some errands. Some residents asked us to buy stuff next time we were downtown…” She was rambling; he had never seen her so nervous. She was always a talkative person, but there was something endearing about how she was speaking so rapidly and randomly in that moment. She even slipped in some words in her mother language. “I noticed we’re running out of coffee while brewing some this morning, so I have to buy some coffee too… Do you also drink tea? I like tea more than coffee. If you’d like to try some, I can tell you about the ones more likely to suit your taste.”

He couldn’t say anything in response. What was he supposed to say anyway? She stopped talking abruptly, licking her lips and biting them to prevent herself from nervously ranting again. His eyes flicked down to follow the motion and then turned to hers, observing how they apprehensively looked at him. 

Mozart knew his feelings were still new, but if he didn’t do or say something now, when would he? She’d leave in a day and a half… He didn’t have time. On the other hand, it could turn out badly and ruin everything for good. From his point of view, he had two options to consider at the moment: 1. feign innocence and kiss her cheek as a way of expressing friendship, pretending this was his idea from the start; 2. pull away and risk not being able to share his feelings with her, likely also lying that he never tried anything.

However, a third option lingered, one that existed only in her mind for now.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, she was never one to think before acting — that’s how she got there in the first place. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes tightly and prayed for the best, closing the gap between them. It was nothing more than a brush of lips, and then she pulled away slightly, fluttering her eyes open.

“What was that for?” His voice came out as a husky whisper. His face was flushed, and his eyes were unreadable; she thought he might be mad at her.

A little panicky, she straightened her body, averting her gaze. MC nervously fidgeted with her fingers, her throat felt dry, and she believed she had lost her voice. She thought about running away, lock herself in her bedroom, and cry until the door opened again, so she could throw herself straight to the 21st century even if this wasn’t what she wanted. Yes, she was thinking about staying, but if he got angry and she ended up ruining everything, her anxious mind thought it’d be better to just go back to her time in shame — not her home, because she felt at home in the mansion now.

“I-I-I…” She attempted to say something, but her voice caught in her throat, and her lips quivered. A soft sniffle escaped her, and she felt her cheeks getting wet. She wasn’t sure if her legs would be able to keep her steady enough to stand up and run now.

“Why are you crying?” His eyes widened momentarily. Internally, he was panicking and screaming, but he had to maintain a calm expression to avoid startling her further. Gently, he reached for her face, turning her to look at him while wiping away her tears.

MC tried to formulate something, but a sob was the only thing that came out. Feeling vulnerable, stupid, and confused, she found herself surprised by the gentle touch, especially after he had sounded annoyed when asking about the kiss.

Mozart couldn’t stand to see her crying, especially because he didn’t even understand why she was crying in the first place. He pulled her against his chest, embracing her reassuringly. “Don’t cry.” He threaded his fingers through her hair to help calm her down. “Stop crying already.” His words were stern, but his voice remained soft, gentle, and filled with concern. His calm façade was crumbling down.

It took her a few minutes to calm down, and Mozart held her in tightly the whole time. Finally, she let out a shuddered, relieved breath, and he tried to keep her in his arms, but she pulled away. Nervously, she glanced around the music room, as if searching for the right words. He didn’t press; he simply waited, gazing into her puffy eyes and her red, tear-stained face.

“I’m sorry,” she softly murmured. He considered saying something, but realized she probably had more to express; she was only struggling to find the right words. “I didn’t mean to impose and make you upset. It was stupid, and I apologize for… you know.”

“I’m not,” he replied, frowning. 

She looked at him as if she had discovered some brand new information. “You’re not?”

“No.” He raised an eyebrow. Was she bad at reading people or was he bad at showing his feelings? Perhaps a little bit of both.

“Annoyed then?” She frowned, trying to understand. “In any case, I apologize-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he interrupted. “But you indeed made a mistake.” Her eyes wavered for only a second.

Mozart leaned in closer again, but this time he didn’t stop to think; he just closed the gap between them. Keeping his eyes open to gauge her reaction, he noticed how she widened her eyes before closing them, and only then did he close his too. Sliding his hand behind her neck, he kept her close to deepen the kiss, feeling her shudder a breath and grab him by his lapel.

It was good, it was like being complete, and it was about to make Mozart be driven by bloodlust. He broke the kiss to gaze into MC’s eyes. She pulled back, and she was about to take her hands away from him, but he held them in place.

“Can you see your mistake now?” he asked, chuckling at her puzzled gaze.

She frowned while playing with his lapel. “But can you blame me?” she said, her voice still stammering a bit. “You send me mixed signals, I’m not sure how to feel, how you feel.”

Oh, he knew what the problem was. He was just too stubborn and shy to admit it out loud. Pulling her into a hug, he hid his flushing face from her while he contemplated how to confess. “I’ll try to make it clear from now on, so you better not cry about it again because I’ll keep you close for a good time.”

“Is this your way of telling me you like me?” She giggled, shaking his body with hers. “See, you need to practice the delivery; it’s still confusing. You talk like you’re scolding me.” She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back with a squeeze.

“I know.” He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

They stayed there, enjoying the peace and quiet for a few minutes, until she looked up at him, placing her chin on his chest. “It’s really nice here, but I need to go.”

His arms instinctively tightened around her body. “No. I won’t let you go, I can’t.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’m being selfish, and I don’t care.” He gently cradled her face in his hands, treating her like the most precious and delicate thing in the whole world. “You’re staying, you hear me? I might not deserve you after mistreating you for a good time, but you can’t leave! You’re not allowed to leave me!”

Breathing heavily, as if he had just completed a marathon, Mozart continued to gaze into her eyes. His own eyes attempted to convey his feelings. She blinked a few times, tilting her head to the side and leaning into the palm of his hand. It was an action that would’ve made him swoon if not for the extremely confused expression on her face. Didn’t she feel the same? But they just kissed… Didn’t she want to stay?

“What are you saying?” she inquired.

“Exactly what you heard.”

Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, she tried to understand. A playful smile spread across her face in the next second. “Well, well, it looks like I’m not the only one making mistakes today, Mozart.”

He frowned and lightly pinched her cheeks. “Why are you laughing?”

“I was talking about needing to go help Sebastian with dinner.”

“... What?”

“I should ask you: what?” She chuckled. “Did you think I was talking about going to the future? Because I’m not going back; I’ll stay here in the mansion. I already talked to Comte.”

He blinked slowly, processing her question. “You’re not going back home?”

“Mmm, I’m already home.” She flashed him a loving smile, and his heart skipped a beat. “I made up my mind last week. I like it here better than in the future.”

“But you said you wanted to learn the music to play when you went home…”

“Ah, yes… Well, I wasn’t exactly lying; I was still indecisive then. However, I also used it as an excuse to spend more time with you and see if I could do something about my feelings.”

“Honestly…” Mozart sighed and frowned, but she could see him suppressing a smile. “What am I gonna do with you? You better take responsibility for deceiving me.”

He leaned down to kiss her once more, and she laughed. It was so typical of him; she was already getting the hang of reading into his words and actions, but she knew she’d get even better.

They’d have plenty of time, after all.

xxx

Little bonus scene:

Comte was throwing another party to celebrate another guest deciding to permanently live there with them — and he was going all out again.

You were sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in one hand, your boyfriend’s arm over your shoulder, and happiness bubbling inside you. It all felt familiar, as if this entire scene had happened before. And it really had, but things had changed a lot since last time.

This time, you didn’t have to drag your brother or pull the young sibling charm to convince him to play; he was there by his own accord, sitting by the piano with his girlfriend and smiling. You saw Shakespeare passing by, staring at Mozart’s smile, probably thinking someone had already given him alcohol. You knew he hadn’t drunk anything; as cheesy and sappy as it sounded, he was drunk on love.

Arthur was nuzzling his nose against your face and kissing you like another love-drunk vampire when you heard MC’s voice ringing in front of you.

“Hey, guys!” She sat by your other side, smiling. 

Mozart wasn’t with her, but he arrived a few seconds later, with a plate of appetizers and a drink in his hands. He frowned looking at you three and turned to MC, going to sit on her other side. He could sit between you and her, but despite not liking to share her attention, he knew she liked talking to you — and you to her. He gave her the food and drink, and she beamed at him, kissing his cheek.

You and Arthur couldn’t help but notice that Mozart didn’t take a second look in your direction, not even saying anything about how close you were or anything. To his credit, he had been better ever since he and MC got together; his possessive and petty behavior was now fully focused on his girlfriend — who thankfully knew very well how to handle it. They were really a good couple, and you were happy that you had the whole idea of setting them up.

“Told you he needed to get laid to relax,” Arthur said with a mischievous grin.

MC and Mozart whipped their heads to you and Arthur, widening their eyes, while you sighed loudly.

“You really need to stop saying these things out loud…”

Aaaand it’s over! Thank you for your patience waiting for this last update! 🤍

Masterlists

[nirawrite-holab-if]

Is Brandr close to MC's siblings? Was there an occurrence that made him afraid for MC (like MC falling from a scared horse or a political enemy etc)?

He gets along well with the MC's siblings, Philon and Briallen, mostly. The twins he sees less but still has a good relationship with.

I wrote something about one of Brandr's moments with the MC in a "mundane" situation ...

When the news that the MC was sick reached Brandr's ears, he didn't believe it.

He had spent hours with them playing by the lake, and they were healthier than ever. Plus, they're a hybrid! What can sicken a hybrid? And what had happened so extreme as to act against their health just now?

Immediately, he made his way to the MC's room, still not believing what he had heard.

A misinterpretation of the words, of course.

It was only when he entered the hybrid's room and saw that not only was the MC lying on the bed motionless, but there was also the royal healer standing next to them and the king and queen, that he felt the weight of the words spoken earlier.

His heartbeat quickened as he advanced into the room; it was as if his body weighed a ton. His steps were slow and uncertain.

"What happened?" He asked no one in particular, the eyes fixed on the MC's tired face and their heavy eyes as if they were sleepy, but there was a visible suffering there.

"And what are you doing to help them? Don't you see that they're in pain?" He growled at the healer, who stepped back, looking outraged.

"Pardon?"

"Brandr," the Queen's voice, was calm but firm, and Brandr averted his eyes from the MC only to hear the Queen. "The princex is getting the best care from the most skilled healer in the kingdom; soon they'll be feeling better".

"With all due respect, my queen," Brandr said, trying to keep his voice steady and his worry under control. "But how can the healer guarantee this? The little monst... I mean, the Princex, is a hybrid. What if this is something new? What if they don't get better?"

He stopped talking as his voice began to tense with fear at what might happen to the MC if this was something deadly.

Instead of taking offense at his tone or his words, the queen just smiled sympathetically at him.

"Your concerns are well-founded, and I won't deny that," she said, casting a brief glance over her shoulder to where the MC was and then back to him. "But you're forgetting one thing," she paused before adding, "the MC is a child. A child who spent the day by the lake at the time of the change of seasons and, I'm sure, stayed some time with their wet clothes before returning to the castle. It seems hard to believe, but the MC just has the flu."

"A flu?" He repeated it uncertainly.

"Yes, we have already used all the detection spells on them, and nothing else has revealed itself to us."

"It's the flu. The first flu they caught, that's not easy even for grown elves," Aedh interjected, making himself heard for the first time. "Besides, I trust that our healer is taking very good care of the princex; he wouldn't be foolish to let something bad happen to the king's grandchildren. His princex. Future heir to the kingdom." That last part seemed to contain an explicit warning that made the healer widen his eyes.

"We all understand, father," the queen interrupted, sounding livid.

"The princex will be feeling considerably better in the morning," the healer assured, his full attention now on the MC. "But they need rest and to stay hydrated."

Brandr didn't leave the room even when the king and queen released him to do so, assuring him they would send for him if anything happened.

Instead, he spent the night sitting next to the MC's bed. Waiting.

Brandr had focused so much on the MC as an unbeatable hybrid that he didn't even stop to think that, despite everything, they were still a child. A small child.

Subject to being exposed to the same dangers and viruses as other children.

And to emphasize his thoughts, a soft sneeze made the MC stir on the bed.

And Brandr began to relax for the first time since entering the room. Just a flu, right?

Just the flu.

[nadinebrooks]

Here is the link to my masterlist.

Draco Malfoy x Reader: Drunken Mess

Warning: Physical abuse is brought up. Please don't read if this is going to trigger you in any way. As always, if you ever want to talk about anything, I'm here.

*Draco's POV*

"Oh just do it already Draco." Pansy sighed throwing her hands up in the air angrily. The two of us were sitting together in the Great Hall eating breakfast like we do almost every morning.

Even though there were tons of end of the year exams coming up, there was some cheer floating through the hall. Well it seemed like the cheer was floating around everyone but me.

"What are you talking about?" I questioned turning towards my girlfriend at the moment Pansy. She had this look of exhaustion on her face. I'm sure that if you looked at me, you would see the same exact face on me as well. Dating someone shouldn't be this hard. What was the point if it was going to cause this much trouble?

It seemed like all we did was argue and fuss and then argue some more. But it did come down to one common factor. The muggle born Ravenclaw.

I don't know why she intrigued me. It was something I could not explain. I couldn't even explain this to Blaise who I could tell just about everything to.

"(y/n). It's obvious you're interested in getting to know her. So why don't you just go ahead and break up with me so you can talk to her without feeling guily."

"Even if I wanted to, I can't be with her." I shook my head. Pansy should know this. "There's no way it would work. I don't get to pick who I'm with Pansy. You know this. Plus she already has a boyfriend."

"I don't like him." Pansy shuttered.

"You don't like her boyfriend?" I questioned staring at her. I wasn't really sure how to respond to that.

Her boyfriend was one of the more well-known Ravenclaws. Almost everyone at Hogwarts knew who he was. Every house has a couple of guys that all the girls swooned over. He so happened to be one of the guys from Ravenclaw. I wasn't surprised that (y/n) was dating him. She was gorgeous.

"Not even a little bit. His whole golden boy act is fake. He isn't who everyone thinks he is." Pansy rolled her eyes. "You didn't hear this from me but he isn't very nice to her."

"In what way do you mean isn't very nice?" I had spoken to him a couple of times in the classes we took together and he seemed fine enough.

"Well..." Pansy trailed off. It seemed as if she was struggling to find the right words to express what she was trying to say. That was rare. Pansy always knew exactly what to say. "Draco please don't repeat this, but I think he abuses her. I've seen the bruises when she isn't wearing her robes, but she's gotten good about hiding them."

"You mean he..." I trailed off not sure how I wanted to put what I was saying into words. Now I understood why it was so hard for Pansy. This wasn't a topic that we ever talked about.

The thing was, they seemed happy. I guess it just goes to show that you never know what is going on below the surface. You can never assume anything.

They were sitting beside each other smiling and eating. Nothing seemed to be off about their relationship. I watched as he got up and walked away. I don't know what came over me, but I felt like I should go over and talk to her.

"Where are you going?" Pansy confusingly asked when I stood up.

"To talk to (y/n)." I said as if it was no big deal. The two of us were not friends at all and this could be a little awkward, but I needed to tell her what I was thinking.

"Why?"

"I just want her to know that there is no reason a man should ever lay his hands on a women. No matter what." That was something my father taught me. He wasn't the best man in the world, but he knew respect. Especially when it came to women.

"Draco stop." Pansy hissed grabbing my sleeve trying to force me to sit back down. "This isn't our fight."

"Well I think she needs to hear it from someone." I mumbled and shook my arm out of Pansy's grasp. As I walked over to the Ravenclaw table, I knew that I had all eyes on me. I never ventured over to this side of the Great Hall. People were curious.

"Hello (y/n)," I gave her a small smile as I took the seat in front of her. "I don't believe that we've officially met, but I'm-"

"You're Draco Malfoy." She finished the sentence for me. "I know exactly who you are. Is there anything I can help you with?" I could tell that she was someone who cared too much. Someone who found it hard to see flaws in people.

"No, I don't need you help with anything. I just wanted to ask you something." I pointed to her lower cheek where there was a fresh bruise. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened right there?"

"Oh nothing." She chuckled lightly trying to cover it up with her hand. "I'm a very clumsy person."

"No. No you're not." I shook my head.

"Excuse me?" She was in utter shock. How could someone just come over here and just say that she wasn't clumsy.

"He doesn't love you (y/n)."

"I'm sorry but what are you talking about?"

"If he truly loved you, he would never." I pointed to the bruise on her cheek once again.

"You don't know what you're talking about Draco Malfoy." She huffed and stormed away. I wanted to call out to her and apologize but she needed to know the truth.

***

I walked into the pub looking around uneasily. This was not my scene. The drinking and loud noises were not for me. I pushed my way through the crowd with one thought on my mind: Find (y/n).

Over the course of the past few months, the two of us had become pretty close. I apologized about coming at her like that in the Great Hall and we just started talking. Talking let to working on homework assignments together and visiting Hogsmeade. I loved spending time with her.

She slowly started to open up about her boyfriend, but I still didn't know that much about their relationship. The most that I knew about him was that he was not a fan of me. He did not like me being around (y/n). Which I completely understood. But I didn't care. The more that I was around (y/n), the more that I could keep an eye on her.

I found a fellow Slytherin who was nursing a drink and chatting it up with a blonde girl.

"Hey, have you seen (y/n)?" I cautiously approached them not wanting to interrupt what they had going on. I let out a sigh of relief when it seemed like they didn't mind too much.

"I heard about what you said to her a couple of months ago." The blonde finally said.

"I-uh-well-it wasn't my place." I stammered not sure how other people knew about that.

"It was your place." The girl sternly told me. "I've been trying to tell her that for the longest but she won't listen to me. Please help her. I honestly believe that he's going to go too far one day and it won't be good for anyone."

"I promise I'll try my best." I gave her a weak smile not sure if I was going to be able to change (y/n)'s attitude toward her boyfriend. Love made you do crazy thing.

"She's over there." She let go of my sleeve and gave me a hopeful smile before pointing to a corner of the room that I was avoiding. It was so congested that I physically shuddered. I slowly walked around squeezing through everyone until I reached (y/n). She didn't look or sound sober by any means.

"(y/n), can you please come with me?" I grabbed her hand and gently tried to pull her away from everyone else.

"What's going on over here?" Her boyfriend demanded coming over to us. He looked down at our linked hands and his eyes angrily flashed.

"No. No. No." (y/n) shook her head tears forming at her eyes and she snatched her hand away from mine. "It's not what it looks like."

"Not what it looks like?" He darkly chuckled. "So this is who you've been sneaking out with? I expected more from you."

"We're just friends." She explained trying to change his mind tears streaming down her cheeks. "I promise."

"Whatever (y/n)," he hissed. "I don't understand why you even bother. You know that he hates muggle borns, right?. I know you've seen how he treats Hermione Granger."

"C'mon (y/n). You're too drunk to be here. We're leaving now." I grabbed her hand and pulled her again.

"Fucking slut." He mumbled under his breath causing (y/n) to turn back towards him. It seemed like those words instantly sobered her up.

"He told me I deserved better. Hell, everyone told me I deserved better. I didn't listen because I thought that I loved you. But I realized that what you were doing wasn't love." She snapped at him causing everyone in the corner to look at us. She chocked back a sob and started walking toward the exit. I grabbed his collar and pulled him in close to me so that I could tell him one last thing.

"I don't ever want to see you talking to her again. If you do, so help me, I will make sure your mother fears for your life." I waited until he nodded so I could make sure that he understood.

(y/n) was standing off to the side downing back a couple of shots. I threw some money on the counter and dragged a very drunk (y/n) out of the place.

She was giggling, dancing, and singing. I grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. Besides the obvious fact that she was drunk, she seemed physically fine.

"Has anyone told you that your eyes are gorgeous?" She asked giggling. I could tell that she meant to whisper it, but she couldn't do just that.

All I could do was chuckle at her cuteness. I took my extra coat off and helped her get into it.

"Why are you so nice to me? From what I've heard you're an an asshole to the other muggle borns. You've been so nice to me these past couple of months. I don't understand. You have really nice skin too. And pretty eyes. You're just so cute."

"I actually am a nice person, but don't tell anyone that. And thank you."

"I promise your secret is safe with him." She giggled swaying back and forth. "I cannot believe that the Draco Malfoy is being nice to me. Can I kiss you?" She took a step closer to me, but I kept my hands on her shoulder making sure to keep her at an arms distance.

"(y/n), I am not going to kiss you."

"Why?" She questioned stepping closer to me and staring up into my eyes. Her eyes were wide and it looked as if she was about to start crying. I so desperately wanted to kiss her and it took everything not to. "Do you not think I'm pretty?"

"I think you're absolutely beautiful (y/n)."

"Then why won't you kiss me?" She pouted. I stared at her lips for a while before shaking my head and getting my mind back where it needed it to be.

"Because I want you to remember our first kiss so if you really want to kiss me then I'll do it when you're sober." I put my arm around her waist and helped her walk. She was quiet for a little bit mumbling to herself.

"Draco aren't we friends?" She stopped walking staring at me so intently that I had to avoid her gaze.

"Yes. Of course."

"Okay good."

"Why do you ask?" I started walking and she kept walking as well.

"Because if we really are friends then you would kiss me." I looked down at her at the right moment so I could catch her before she tumbled face down into the road. She looked up me with those wide eyes and the innocent look on her face. Her nose had started to turn red from the cold.

"I'm not going to kiss you (y/n). We're going to get you back to Hogwarts now. We need to do that before you catch a cold out here."

"Okay. Fine." She grumbled and started trudging mumbling insults at me under breath. I couldn't help but laugh at her. She was the cutest. "Draco?" She questioned and I nodded letting her know that I was listening. "Will you kiss me later?"

I wasn't sure how to respond to her. I didn't want to lie to her about my feelings, but I figure it would be fine since she wasn't going to remember any of this in the morning.

"Honestly (y/n), yes I would. But if you just so happen to remember any of this in the morning and you still want me to then I will. Only when you're sober."

"You promise?" She grinned and after she watched me nod she reached down and laced her fingers with mine. She kept giggling the whole way home and kept swinging our arm back and forth.

We reached the castle and she pointed me the way of her dorm. We ended up getting lost a couple of times, but in the end we did end up finding it. I figured it would be best if I followed her to make sure that she got into her bed. While walking her to the room, there were tons of eyes on us. I could tell that everyone was a little confused to why she was with me and not her boyfriend. She just giggled and waved at everyone still holding my hand as we walked down the stairs to her bedroom.

I managed to get her into a change of pajamas and tucked into the bed.

"Draco?" She whispered just as I was about to leave the room.

"Can you pass me that piece of paper?" She pointed to a sheet of paper on her desk in the corner of her room. When I handed it to her she quickly sprawled something down on it that I couldn't see, quietly thanked me, and rolled over falling asleep.

"Good night (y/n)." I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. I was not expecting to hear a thank you back from her. I smiled and then headed to my dorm for the night.

***

I sat by myself this morning just taking in my own thoughts. I was starting to regret not kissing (y/n). I mean sure she was drunk, but it was just a kiss, right? A harmless kiss. Now that she was sober, there was no way that she was going to be interested in me now.

I watched as (y/n)'s boyfriend walked into the Great Hall. I was expecting (y/n) to come in after him, but she was nowhere. Were they even still dating? It's not like (y/n) was going to remember the "break up".

After sipping on some tea for a little bit, I saw (y/n) walk in. I glanced over at her boyfriend and saw his face instantly peak up, but then she made a beeline towards me. There was a sheet on paper in her clutched hand.

"Hi." She said sitting down across from me.

"Hi." I smiled back. "How are you feeling?"

"Uh, my head still hurts, but other than that I'm fine."

"Is there something that you needed?"

"Did I have to need something Draco? I couldn't come over and just talk to you?"

"What? No! That's not what I meant."

"I know." She chuckled, "but yeah, there was something that I wanted to talk to you about."

"Shoot away." I grimaced. I just had a feeling that I would know exactly what she was talking about. She wanted to come over and talk about last night. I don't know how much she remembered, but I had a feeling that this wasn't going to go very good.

She opened her hand to show me the crumpled up piece of paper. I reached for it and opened it to show a messy message on the piece of paper that she asked me to get her last night. I opened up to see:

Draco's Kiss

When I looked up at her from reading the message, she looked a little nervous.

"What does that mean?" I felt my normally pale face heat up. I wasn't sure if I should lie to her and tell her I had no idea what that meant or honestly answer her. There was no reason for me to lie to her.

"Do you remember going out last night?"

"Yeah," she nodded, "most of it. I remember going out but not much after that. I remember arguing with (boyfriend name) and you coming, but not much after that."

"You got into an argument with him, and you were super drunk so I figured I would safely bring you back. I don't know if this is the correct terminology, but you were plastered and you kept asking me to kiss you."

I couldn't read the expression on her face. It flashed between shocked, disgusted, and then some regret. Her eyes were wide and it looked as if she was trying to avoid my gaze.

"I didn't do it thought!" I held my hands up in surrender.

"Why?" She cocked her head to the side studying me. "You can get just about anything out of drunk me."

"Because I wanted you to remember it." I admitted shrugging.

"So what does that have to do with the note?" She gestured to the note I was still holding.

I sucked my teeth in not really wanting to answer her. I was absolutely terrified of the rejection I was about to receive.

"I didn't want to kiss you while you were drunk so I told you that if you wanted to still kiss when you were sober then we could. But you totally don't have to. I understand that you were drunk when you said that and you might've said some things that you might not actually mean."

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted it. I should have lied to her about it and told her that I had no idea what that little note meant. (y/n) sat there for a second staring at the table not really saying anything.

"So, if I were to ask you to kiss me right now, you would?"

My eyes widened. I was not expecting this at all. This was a complete shock.

"Yeah, I would."

She sat there for a second focusing on me. It seemed as if she was thinking long and hard about something.

Then before I could register what was happening, she leaned across the table and grabbed my tie pulling me in towards her. She gently kissed me on the lips and then pulled back. It was way too brief for me. I needed another one.

"I cannot believe it took me getting drunk to tell you that I wanted to kiss you. I really like you Draco and you've made me see how a guy should treat me. But if you liked me back, that would be wonderful. I am so embarrassed by throwing myself at you. I hope you can forgive me."

"Don't worry about it," I chuckled, "you were a drunken mess, but a very cute drunken mess."

[atcwhitney]

Flores Malas

8/21/2024. 10:03pm.

I know people tend to be passive-aggressive here in Los Angeles. I was born and raised here, and for some (in hindsight) unfathomable and regrettable reason, I even moved back here after San Francisco and New York.

I moved here partly to work for a nightclub called Cloak and Dagger. One of the founders reached out to me, explaining he wanted someone to take on a role that was part-creative director, part-content creator, and was a fan of my work. I had been a full-time videographer and photographer with clients like Levi's, Lucasfilm, Absolut and Dolby under my belt.

To make a long story a bit shorter, I eventually quit Cloak and Dagger, partly because I wasn't being paid anymore, and partly because friends of mine started telling me stories that they had been confronted with predatory behavior due to the toxic nature of the environment and permitted by the founders, who (they insisted) didn't care. Anything from unwanted and repeated sexual advances all the way to being drugged and in one case, being raped.

Once I had collected a fair amount of such anecdotes and seen enough suspicious behavior with my own eyes in glimpses and glances, I brought these concerns to the attention of the founders and was brushed aside.

This after one of them had pretended to be a close friend, coming to my weekly movie nights at my apartment, until the moment that my other friend refused his sexual advances. From then on, he stopped coming to movie night and didn't hang out with me (or promise her a music career) anymore unless he needed me to work for free for him and the club, which was getting tons of press as apparently the hottest exclusive goth night in Los Angeles, while I rubbed elbows with some of the creepiest roofie-cradling sycophants imaginable.

The night I quit, I walked a girl to her car who had just started working at Cloak and Dagger. When we arrived, I shared with her that I had quit and my reasons why. She told me that my experience made no sense to her, and that she had only ever been welcomed with open arms, treated with respect and felt supported there. I repeated my concerns briefly, told her to be careful, and wished her good luck, walking to my car.

Years later, when I worked at an occult school, this same person found me on Instagram and messaged me. She apologized. She said she should have listened that one night when I walked her to her car. I'd rather not type any more.

Flashback to the gaslighting I endured leading up to, during and after me quitting Cloak and Dagger. I kept my lips tightly shut and even doubted what I had seen and heard after some time, having found so much resistance from so many angles. I regretted even speaking up at all. I felt foolish.

A few years after the night I quit, an LA Times article was published effectively verifying everything I had experienced and warned people about, only to get (at the time) anything from blank stares to active hostility in return, and everything in-between.

I realized it didn't matter how I was treated for speaking out. I was right. The only mistake was in feeling bad about it, and feeling bullied into being confused and scared after the fact.

I learned my lesson back then.

Today, I went to work at the barbershop I've worked at since April of 2024. I had a return client right away, and then I sat down and waited for walk-ins.

A customer who usually sits with Rigo, the owner, came in as a walk-in and sat with me. I faced him towards the mirror.

He asked me for a mid-fade and to go short on the top. I pointed at the side of his head, where I think a mid-fade should go.

"A mid-fade? Skin up to here?"

"Yes."

"Cool."

I picked up the top of his hair and held my fingers horizontally across a good half of the length.

"Take this much off?"

"I don't know. Short."

"More than this?"

I moved my fingers closer to his scalp.

"Like this?"

He looked confused.

"...or more?"

I moved my fingers even closer to the scalp.

"I've got a picture."

"That's great! Let's see..."

He took out his phone and showed a picture of himself. His hair was slicked down sideways and it was hard to tell how long it really was. And since he was facing the camera, rather than in profile, I could tell there was a mid-fade but couldn't see much beyond that.

I figured that was enough for us to be on the same page.

"Got it, thanks man."

"Yeah, just go real short on top..."

I picked up his hair and moved my fingers a little lower than last time. Now it was so short it might not be possible to trim with scissors, and might require a machine to cut.

"This short?"

"Yeah! Exactly. I want to be able to do a side-part comb-over."

I thought this was a curious expression. I think of a comb-over as what a balding guy (not this guy) does to hide his balding-ness, beyond being a redundant phrase beyond simply, "side-part."

But I hid such amusement and continued the consultation, not wanting to start cutting his hair before he and I understood what I could reasonably guess was the same thing, or close enough to it for a haircut. I said:

"If I cut it this short, you won't have enough hair to comb-over. It'll just stand straight up."

He started looking agitated alongside being confused. I tried to interject to squash the awkward moment incoming...

"...I mean, I'm happy to cut it this short, I just think you have to decide if you want enough hair to brush over, or if you want to go this short, and have it stand up no matter what, like..."

...Terminator 2 had just been on the shop TV recently...

"...Arnold Schwarzenegger."

He affected a nervous laugh, clearly trying be a good sport, thus making two of us.

He said, "I have another picture."

"Ok, perfect, let's have a look."

He pulled out his phone again and showed me a picture of himself with totally different hair from the first picture, as well as different hair to what we had agreed upon so far. In this picture, he didn't have a fade, but plenty of hair on the sides and clearly on the back, with longer hair on top than he had right now, sitting in my chair.

"Okay, did you still want a fade?"

"Yeah."

"You don't have a fade in this picture."

"Well, yeah, this is grown out."

"Okay, so you're showing me a picture of...not the haircut you want, but of a haircut that's grown out?"

"I'm saying I want something as short or shorter than this," he said, as if it were a matter of simplicity itself, in fact.

"Oh, okay, I got it," I lied. What was there to get? I was more confused at this point than at any point so far.

He put his phone away and I reached up my hands like Ricky Bobby, a little shakily, towards the top of his head, trying to think of something to do or say to make this interaction make some kind of sense to someone.

"...So, we knock out the mid-fade and I'll cut some off the top, and I'll show you where we're at, and you can let me know if we should cut more?"

He smiled and nodded, "Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay." Hopefully this was good to go now.

I figured I would start cutting and check in at stages, so he could feel invited to direct me down to the last centimeter, if need be. I was perfectly happy to do this. I didn't have any other walk-ins waiting, nor any clients with appointments I was worried would be made late by any of this.

I picked up the top of his hair, decided to cut the first mark I had showed him, which was the most conservative amount, knowing we could more easily cut more than put the hair back.

I made the first cut.

I added hair to this cut hair to begin the process, planning to cut all of the top and then show him the results with a hand mirror, so he could let me know to cut more, which I assumed he probably would.

Before I could make the second cut, he said, "I just want it really short. REALLY SHORT."

I dropped the hair I was holding and lowered both hands to my sides, looking at him in the mirror from behind the chair.

"So...do you want me to just shave your head?"

"No, no, no, not THAT short. Just SHORT. You know."

I nodded in slow-motion, just looking at him, hoping, maybe even praying, that he would say something helpful in that moment before I would be obliged to break the tension myself.

He didn't. He just looked at me like a deer in headlights.

After an interminable pause, the stare-down developed into the briefest tinge of frustration playing on his face.

I finally talked.

"I hope you understand that I'm just trying to give you what you want and cut your hair the way you have it in your mind, I'm not trying to make this difficult." That last was a mistake. I shouldn't have suggested it might appear I was even remotely making anything difficult. Had I been less insecure in that moment, I would have either left that part out, or been honest and told him he was, in fact, making this difficult for both of us.

He simply said a perfunctory-sounding, "Right."

"Okay, how about I finish cutting this part I started..."

...I pointed with the scissors towards the hair I had just cut...

"...and when it's all cut, I'll show it to you, and you can let me know to cut more if you want, and how much more."

He nodded and smiled. "Okay."

I continued with second cut, then picked up enough hair to make my third cut. By then, he spoke up again.

"Oh, yeah, that's perfect."

"Oh! Okay, cool, sounds good."

Sigh of relief, but somehow more confused than ever. I just kept going.

I cut the entire top.

"How's the length on top?"

"It's good. Looks good."

"Okay, I'm gonna start on the fade now..."

"Cool."

I spun him around, lifted his chair, grabbed the clippers, and started fading his hair on the side.

"Could you shave off my beard too after this?"

"Sure! You want a full straight-razor shave? Everything off?"

"Everything off, but no straight-razor, just clippers."

"Okay, sounds good."

I continued the haircut.

After the fade was blended into the top, I showed him the mirror and stood behind him with the other mirror, angling it so he could see the back and each side.

"Is this cool?"

"It's good."

"Okay, sounds good man."

I put the mirror away and proceeded to, and finished, the face.

Once he was all cleaned off, I lowered the chair and took the cape off of him and he got up.

"Thank you so much for coming in today man, I appreciate you."

"Thank you, I appreciate it. Can I pay with card?"

"Of course!"

He paid.

I reached out for his hand. He shook it.

"Thanks again man, have a great day."

"You too."

He turned and waved at Rigo and then left the shop.

I started cleaning my station. Rigo got up from his chair at the opposite end of the barbershop and sauntered over to me.

"Hey fool, how was that guy just now?"

"He was cool! No problem."

I wasn't lying. It's pretty common to have customers like that. Rigo has them and so does the guy next to me. So much so that the guy next to me has a customer who comes to him every month and is so confusing and difficult, even after all this time, the barber routinely goes outside after the service to decompress and smoke weed and (occasionally) complain about said customer.

"I'm firing you, fool."

I thought he was joking. I laughed.

"What?"

He was stone-faced. Now his hand was on top of my station, the other hand on his hip, and he was leaning in towards me.

"You're fired. That's your last cut at the shop. Take your attitude to Proper Barbershop. I don't want that here, in my shop."

I realized he wasn't joking.

He produced a trash bag like it was a magic trick, seemingly out of a hat, and threw it on top of my tools.

"You're serious?"

"Yeah, fool. You're just not a good fit for this shop, or for this industry, either."

"Oh."

I looked at the trash bag on my station because I was starting to notice that he was standing uncomfortably close. His face was leaning in more and more and his eyes had the same look they had on them when he talked about kicking a homeless person sleeping outside one morning, or when he would tell me (often) "These fools are all fucking idiots," about the customers at his shop.

I looked back at him and made eye contact again.

He continued, "...That fool is cool as fuck. That fool is COOL as FUCK. You talked to him in a way sort of to make that fool feel stupid. You know what I mean?"

I nodded, not sure what else to do in that moment.

He went on.

"...I was actually gonna fire you on the spot when I listened to you talk to that fool but I decided to wait until the haircut was done and do it now."

I nodded again.

In an instant, I played back the entire service in my head. The overall arc was that of the walk-in asking for confusing things and me asking questions, looking for clarity. Then shaking hands and him leaving.

I remembered Rigo telling me multiple times in the months I had worked at his shop, "These fools are stupid, they don't know what they want, you just pretend to listen to what they want and then do what YOU want. YOU'RE the professional."

I also remembered actually implementing that patently unethical advice and then having a customer respond to that by complaining about his service, and then Rigo in turn blaming me for that, too.

So from then on, I did what seemed fair and listened to customers for real, which is what I would do anyway outside of peer pressure, and if I was confused, admitted this, and consulted with the client until things became clear enough to proceed in some measure of good faith with whatever service was going on.

All in all, I felt the walk-in and I were both confused and, at turns, frustrated by the consultation for the start of the service, and then ended the service on the same page with a handshake.

I even thought I had seen this walk-in leaving me a tip out of the corner of my eye before handing me back my phone with the Square app open before I put it in my pocket.

I blinked and said:

"Do you want to talk about it? Or give me a second chance?"

"No, fool. Pack your shit up, the sooner the better. You're not my employee, so I can't tell you what to do. You run your own business. But you run your OWN business in MY SHOP, and I DON'T want your BUSINESS in MY SHOP."

"Okay."

"Don't even bother to sweep up," he said as he turned and walked back to his chair, sat down, pulled out a vape and started puffing up plumes of weed and scrolling on his phone.

I knew I had to pack up all my tools, spread out across four shelves and four or five drawers of a nearby toolbox, into this flimsy trash bag and leave immediately. I had enough tools as a barber that when I had "moved in" at this shop, I had brought rolling luggage and a backpack for most of it, bringing more stuff later.

I dutifully kept quiet and packed up all my things into the trash bag, hoping it would fit everything.

I realized I hadn't even cleaned or disinfected any of my tools yet by the time Rigo confronted me. I was still having a hard time believing any of this was happening.

I kept throwing expensive tools loose into the trash bag, covered in hair and other, worse, things. I knew I couldn't stop to clean and take care of my gear, he'd made that pretty clear.

Once I was done, I went to wash my hands in the bathroom.

I came back into the rest of the shop and dapped Rigo, saying, "Thanks for everything, man."

"Thank YOU, Compadre Whitney."

I walked towards the front door, dapping the other barber on the way.

"Take it easy, Tali."

"You too, Whitney."

I picked up my bag of tools and left the shop.

It wasn't until I was on the freeway, sitting in traffic, that I started thinking...

...the irony of the barber / owner who also happens to be—according to the second longest-serving barber there, my own observation, and reviews on Yelp (complete with the one calling him out by name and including a photo of him in the review)—a barber with questionable customer service skills at best, who decides to fire me on the spot for apparently being rude, or whatever my "attitude" otherwise consists of, which he refuses to discuss with me...

...this irony in particular...

...is just richer than he is since he let go of his cleaning lady weeks ago...

I spent the rest of the drive home thinking about how I had just been fired from a job for the first time since I was in my 20s, which was 20 years ago.

Thinking about how, even with my and my fiancée's full-time jobs, we have barely been getting by even after moving to the valley to save money.

Thinking about how he didn't stop at firing me, but implied a physical threat that I felt viscerally and was scared by, insulted me, insulted somehow even the Proper Barbershop while he was at it, and did all of this with the utmost hypocrisy and no chance for actionable feedback.

Right before I arrived home, I realized I hadn't grabbed my barber license, which I knew had been hanging above the big mirror.

I parked the car and grabbed the bag of tools. As they jostled and I was jaywalking across Magnolia towards the apartment complex, picking up pace while a car came careening out of a side street right towards me, my clippers turned on inside the bag.

The machine shook the whole bag in my hands and the sound of the blades vibrating while buried under a mountain of tools was loud enough to somehow hear over traffic. I imagined the worst, thinking, "there's no way."

Then the bottom of the bag broke and my tools hit the concrete in the middle of the street.

Had I gotten hit by that car, I wouldn't be typing this on August 21, but here we are.

My fiancée and I sobbed on the floor of the apartment while I put dirty clippers, scissors, razors and combs into my rolling luggage piece-by-piece and the cat watched us, unmoved.

I'm still not sure something wasn't broken.

I wanted to write this account up before enough time passed that my memory became fuzzy.

Before I could check and find out.

Once I wasn't crying, or remembering Rigo calling me a "fag" randomly at work, or some other uncomfortable memory of my time at Barbershop Las Flores, I realized he had done me a huge favor.

I know my worth now and I feel confident at cutting hair for the first time in my career. I'll never not call out the kind of behavior I took from Rigo from day one anywhere else ever again. If it happens day one, I walk day one. I deserve better.

I checked my phone for the first time since I had been fired.

I had an appointment for tomorrow.

It must have been booked in between me getting fired and me arriving home and finally checking my phone. Possibly right at the moment that my tools landed in the middle of Magnolia Blvd.

I cancelled the appointment, apologized to that customer and blocked off my availability at Barbershop Las Flores.

Then I thought about something.

I checked the transaction from Rigo's customer.

He tipped me ten dollars.

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Never Tell, Chapter - a Malevolent AU

Arthur and Bella Lester are not in love. They came together as friends, to protect each other, to give one another the freedom to live—and love—as they pleased.

Having a child was supposed to be part of that—quieting the rumors, providing a shield. But it wasn’t one baby; it was two… and something is very wrong with their golden-eyed son.

Chapter Three: Bella is not well. The infection has set in, and she's feverish, high on morphine, and altogether feeling fucky.

Surely that means her visitor isn't real.

Right?

Warnings for mentions of historical homophobia and medical practices. Also a deeply irreverent Bella.

AO3

-----

Bella heard her father talking to the nurses before he was even in the room. He just never spoke quietly, that guy. Oozed authority, commanded respect, filled empty spaces with his presence.

This was gonna be a challenge. She was feverish; she was high as all hell (heaven?) on morphine; she was still in pain, and still feeling… fucky.

That was the word. Fucky. “English studies can bite my ass,” she muttered to no one.

She was also feeling really torn, and not just down in good old Mount Pleasant.

On one hand, she really could’ve used another day without him. She’d have to pretend, to be the good wife, the good daughter, the good whatever, and she really didn’t wanna do that.

But on the other, she was grateful he was around to show up.

The last year had been educational. When you rolled your eyes over your dad’s latest letter and complained about how much he wanted you to have a good education (which she obviously would not, now), it sort of sobered you up to realize no one would ever ask after your new fake husband.

He had no one to catch him if he fell. No one to care when he got hurt. No one to hold him when he cried. No one to comfort him, or encourage him. Or even fight with him over stupid shit that only family could fight over.

He did it all alone, and it wasn’t really… right?

Arthur was a good guy. Sure, selfish sometimes (which made a fuck-ton of sense, given how lonely he was), but he should have people. It wasn’t right he had no people.

She supposed she was his people, and she was good with that. He needed someone in his life who really understood him.

What was this, protectiveness? That was the wrong word, and all kinds of backwards, anyway, what with her being the dame and him not (though she’d certainly tease him about that gender role swap any day).

She was drifting. Here came dad. Time to focus up.

“Bella.”  He sat in the chair Arthur had pulled forward.

She smiled as prettily as she could, the picture-perfect elder’s daughter, weary and faithful and hallowed by childbirth. “Dad. You came.”

“Of course I came.” The concern on his face erased his usual vague disapproval. “Bella… you look terrible.”

Whoopsie-daisy, turns out getting chopped open was not good prep for a beauty contest. “I’m afraid I can’t help that.”

He touched her forehead. “And you’re feverish.”

“Eh. Turns out I need that thing… I dunno, what’s it called, blood?”

He looked very serious. “Did you forget the word, or are you being facetious?”

She sighed. “Dad…”

“I’m making sure. Blood loss can have an effect on the brain.”

Oi. “My brain is fine. I’m in a lot of pain. I lost blood. I’m off my noggin on morphine. All of these things will get fixed over time. Hey… thanks for coming.” She did mean it. She knew he loved her. She knew he struggled with liking her, and struggled with trusting her, ever since he’d caught her and Deacon Smith’s daughter, years ago.

(To be perfectly fair, Bella could now admit that making out in the choir robe closet had not been the smartest choice.)

“What can I do for you?” Daniel said, his warm, large hand on hers. “Anything. Anything within my power. I can hire you help. I can help you move, get a better place, one suited for a family.”

Ooh, help! Someone who could cook and clean! Someone who could help with the babies and handle diaper duty! Someone who could… stare at them be not-married and figure it out. Fuck. “We’re okay, dad. Thanks.”

“There must be something.” Anxiety aged him, deepened the lines on his face. “Anything.”

Her heart did a little unpleasant ping. She knew she was all he had. He’d never remarried. Never really gotten close to anyone. She’d realized in her first year of college how lonely she had been, living with him—and how lonely Daniel still was.

Bella put her hand on his. “I’m okay, dad. I have Arthur.”

Daniel’s face said a whole world of opinion about that. “Bella…”

She smiled. “We’ve got to figure it out eventually, right? You can’t hold my hand forever.”

He was holding her hand now. “As long as I’m around, I’m not going to let go.”

Her smile was real, if weary. “I know. Thanks, dad. I promise I’ll tell you what we need.”

“How about the hospital bill?”

“No, I’m sure… dad, we budgeted for it.”

“I can do that much.”

“Dad, it’s important. We really did plan for this. The answer is no.”

“Hush.” He patted her hand. “For rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft, and stubbornness is as iniquity and idolatry. Let me do this for you.” With that pleasantly-spoken damnation, he rose and headed off to talk to someone in accounting.

Bella exhaled hard, feeling ungrateful and distinctly witchcrafty. She loved her dad; she struggled to like him.

She’d liked him a lot more before her mom died, but that man was gone. “Maybe I should hook him up with a nurse, or something,” she said out of habit to her babies, hand going to her stomach, wincing. “He just needs a little cuddling, right? Oh. You’re gone.” They were.  She’d gotten too used to a captive audience,  especially when they couldn’t answer back. Ah, those were the days.

She considered her room, her painful stomach, her ugly hospital gown. “Oi, you. Be healed… now!” She waggled her fingers at her torso. “Stupid body,” she said, closing her eyes. “Needing blood. Pitiful.”

“You need a little more than blood, darling,” said a woman in the doorway.

Bella looked up.

The stranger wore a man’s suit—silk palazzo pants, oversized, and a velvet jacket over a light silk shell that both hid and teased whatever her body was beneath. Her black hair was short and slicked back, with a little curl on her forehead, and she walked with her hands in her pockets.

“Sweet suffragette glory,” Bella blurted.

The woman laughed. “Suffragette, eh?” she said, stopping by her bed.

Bella stared. “Who else could get away with it? And damn. Who are you?”

“Employee of a relative.”

Bella laughed. “Mouthful. Also, I doubt that. Pretty sure I’d like a relative who hired someone like you, and honey, I don’t like any of them.”

The woman’s eyes sparkled. “You’re also high on morphine.”

The tiny part of Bella’s brain that understood this was not how to survive this world had gone blessedly quiet. “My eyes work just fine, gorgeous. What’s your name?”

The woman’s lips twitched. “Careful. You’ll get yourself in trouble.”

“Maybe I want to get into trouble.”

The woman was no longer fighting her grin. “He did say you were a handful.”

Bella wasn’t done. “Who said? You gotta give me your name so I know what to moan.”

The woman laughed. “Never.”

Bella grinned. “So your name’s Never? How avante-garde! I can work with that. Bet you’ll like it hummed in the curve of your neck.”

“Damn,” said the woman with a little shiver. “Okay, hold on, you’ve distracted me.” The woman Bella called Never touched Bella’s forehead, and that’s when Bella realized this couldn’t be happening. Some kind of shivery… sensation slid out from the woman’s fingers, which Bella had absolutely no definition for. “Yeah,” said the woman Bella called Never. “Fever. Hold still.” She lifted the sheets and began opening Bella’s hospital gown ties.

Well, if she’d gone straight into hallucinating, she might as well have a good time.“Not gonna buy me dinner first?”

“Hold on, ma’am.” Somehow, this woman lifted the bandages right off.

Bella couldn’t see how she did it. It certainly shouldn’t have come away like that, easy and clean and painless, and—

Oh. Oh, she looked bad. The incision was almost purple, framed with dark, strangely sharp veins, so swollen that skin pressed through the thick,stained stitches like unbaked dough, making this wound more obscene than it already was.

Her heart pounded. “Oh, fuck,” she whispered. “Oh, fuck.”

“He was right. Huh,” said Never. “You weren’t planning on more kids, were you?”

Bella stared at her. “Lady, none of this is a thing I wanna repeat.”

“Good, because I have to put your uterus in null. I can’t remove it, or even these idiots will be able to tell it’s gone missing.”

“You’re… okay, I know you’re a dream, but mind telling me what my own head meant by that?”

“No more periods, doll—and the lingering negative effects from carrying him inside you won’t kill you. Here we go.” And the woman put her hand right on the incision.

Bella jumped. “What are you—” She gasped.

It didn’t hurt. Never’s hand was cool. That delightful relief spread like it had on her forehead, and sank right into her like she was made of cotton. Discomfort and heat eased, soothing as it slid through her, and right before her eyes, the redness went down. It just faded, as if her body was eating it. The veins vanished like invisible ink in a spy novel; her skin calmed, flattened, leaving a neat, smooth incision held by  textbook-perfect stitches.

She gawked.

Bella’s toes curled. “Uh… I am not in the business of imagining angels. So hey, I’ll hit on you, anyway. You got cold hands, and I can help with that.”

Never laughed as if surprised. “Bold little thing.”

“It’s my dream. I get to flirt with the keenest doll I’ve ever seen. Better believe I’m gonna be bold.”

“I’m almost done, all right?. Also, you’re not in great shape, hon.”

“So sit on my face. Tongue works fine.”

Never just lost it, laughing, turning away, shaking her head. “Ma’am!”

“Ma’am! I’m insulted.”

“You are married.”

“Way to kill the mood.” Bella’s eyes closed. It just felt… so much. Cooling. Easing. Sliding up her like oil under her skin, and she raised her arms over her head, stretching.

“Easy,” said Never. “You’re not that healed.”

“Well, this isn’t happening, anyway,” said Bella. “So I figure we should go dancing. I know a place.”

“If only.” Never’s smile was wry. “Think he’d kill me, though. Hold on there, okay? He needs you.”

“Who’s he? This ain’t no sausage party, lady.”

“All right, there we go.” Never replaced the bandages (how?), then touched her hand to Bella’s forehead. “You should be safe now. Careful what you say when you wake up, ma’am.”

“I’m not a fucking m…”

“Bella?”

Bella opened her eyes and stared at her father.

Daniel looked so relieved. “You have color in your cheeks again.”

But… what?

Nooooo, she thought, blearily. That dream had been going places. At least she hadn’t woken up touching herself.

“I’ve taken a hotel,” said Daniel. “I’ll be here for a few days.”

“Can you afford to take that much time from work?” Bella said.

“I am taking it. You’re my daughter. I know you don’t understand yet, but you will, now that you have children of your own. There is nothing you won’t do for them.”

Bella suspected I’m real broken and I don’t think I’m going to feel like that would be an upsetting answer. “Thanks, dad.”

“It frightened me so badly to see you so pale,” he said. “You seem less feverish.”

That was odd. Bella put her hand on her belly and found no real pain; soreness, like a healing cut, but nothing like it had been. “Huh,” she whispered.

“What is it?” Daniel’s heavy-jowled self tensed. “Do you need the nurse?”

“Yes,” she said. “I think I need a bandage change.”

“I’ll fetch someone.” He hurried, faster than she’d seen him in years.

Bella slid her fingers along her stomach. Yeah; it felt better. Still no walk in the park, but not… sick. Just healing.

It hadn’t been real. Right?

Sure. Some incredibly gorgeous bird walked in, dressed to the nines, and did fucking magic. Yeah, of course it hadn’t happened, but Bella wondered who she’d based that dream on. She’d never met anyone like that. Not even during her brief escape to Harlem, her final year of high school, when they’d taken a trip to the Museum of Natural History. Wow.

Bella got her good-girl smile back on by the time Daniel returned with three nurses, which was two more than expected, and that meant the next forty-five minutes were a pain in the ass. They kept checking charts and talking over her like she wasn’t there and running little tests, and finally brought in a doctor.

They may have talked over her, but at least they were gentle. The doc was less gentle checking her incision, pressing into her, and she cried out.

“Hm. An unexpected development, but pleasing,” he said like she was a loaf of bread, and marched away into the hall.

He didn’t march far enough. She heard him. “A miraculous recovery,” he was saying. “The infection has gone.”

The infection has…

So they’d known she was that badly infected. Some instinct told her that was why they kept her on so much morphine; either her body would fight it off, or it wouldn’t, and all they could do was keep her clean and comfortable.

Had she been close to dying?

Would they have let her, now that she’d done her duty and reproduced?

She hadn’t known. She was only twenty-one. She could’ve died.

“You’re shivering,” said Daniel, holding her hand again.

“I’m a little spooked,” she said, too honest, and reeled it back. “I don’t know how to be a parent.”

And to her absolute shock, Daniel, after hesitation, was honest, too. “Neither do I. But we… we manage. And our marvelous children find their way, in spite of us.”

She stared at him.

He stared back, briefly naked—but then it all got tucked away again like a handkerchief. “As long as you raise them in the fear and admonition of the Lord.”

It didn’t matter. It was a glimpse of the Daniel he’d been before her mother’s death had locked him away, and Bella had seen it. Maybe being a grandpa would help him. That’s be funny, she thought, if he ended up being the one saved by childbirth. “I’m gonna do my best, dad, and so is Arthur. I know you don’t like him, but he’s a good man.”

Daniel’s lips tightened, but then he let that go. “I’m so proud of you.”

She held Daniel’s hand, because he was there, because he had lots of problems, but at least he cared if she was okay, and hoped Arthur was having fun.

#

Arthur was not having fun. At least he knew what he’d ask Daniel for whenever that guy came back. “Again?” he cried, and could swear John looked smug as fuck. “How? You just went! Where the fuck is it coming from?”

That was a smug look, or Arthur was straight.

He sighed and went to dispose of the mess and set water boiling again, dearly hoping they had enough clean cloths to get through the day.

Oh, yes, he knew exactly the help they’d ask for: a fucking daily diaper service. “For crying out loud,” he muttered, shirt wet all down the front.

Behind him, Faroe made a happy sound.

At least someone was having a good time.

——

Notes:

Note: I was raised by a Daniel (for good or ill), and I really understand Bella’s messy relationship with her dad. No disrespect intended toward any faith or (poorly applied) scripture.

Also, Never is based on Louise Brooks. Yum.

[olderthannetfic]

I need help deciding something, im not sure whether this is the right place for it but here it goes.

I'm in a fandom that is about 10ish years old, went through a decline and then saw a huge surge at the beginning of 2021 because it got a (very good) show based on the books. While the canon endgame is good ol' friends-to-lovers, the most popular ship is an enemies and lovers with a bunch of 'problematic' elements. It's so popular that it has more fics on ao3 than any other ship in the entire universe in which the story is set.

Now, most of the fans of the ship hang out in a discord server, and I, being obsessed with the ship, joined it in early June. Tumblr doesn't have much content for the ship because of the harassment faced by the fans by antis when the show was released and I detest using twitter so the server is my only contact with that series.

And, everything is cool. The members are super chill, extremely helpful, the mods are great and have excellent events every month for the members, and I've had an overall good experience. I'm not very active, I only talk about once ever 2 or 3 days, but I read all the messages because they tend to be quite interesting.

Now here is where the problems begin: on different platforms, on three separate occasions, I have heard negativity about the server. Once on ao3, an author complained about the server in her notes, and when some fandom newbie asked her to explain she said the mods were power hungry jerks who silenced anyone they didn't like and there was a lot of negativity, and they looked down on everyone who wrote dead dove. On tumblr, a person claimed that they were the founder of the server and they got bullied by the members and made fun of by the mods because they wanted a channel for darker topics (dead dove, underage etc) while this founder did not, and the overall experience left them traumatized. One of my friends from the server left because she said that she had issues with mods and didn't like who she had to be in order to stay in the server.

Which... sounds bad, except the ao3 and tumblr person's reasons seem to directly contradict each other with respect to dead dove? And the server does have a dead dove channel (you have to take a role for it, so you can leave the role and it will be hidden any time) although they restrict underage but that's because of discord's TOS. The server is very much proship so I don't see them looking down on dead dove doesn't make sense. And the tumblr person claims to be the founder, but the server has two people marked as founders and there is absolutely no trace of this third person. None. Not even a mention of x. Neither is there any trace of an argument regarding these topics. As for the person who left the server... she was a good person, but a little insensitive and very likely to jump to extremes, which was why the mods had warned her a couple of times not to do so (some of her statements could come across as ableist even if she didn't mean anything like that). I'd ask her if there was more but I don't really know her that well. The mods are very hands off, only occasionally asking to shift to appropriate channels if required, that too not often. They've been great, and they put tons of effort into creating events and stuff, more than I have seen in any fandom.

I won't say that there had never been issues. I found that sometime last year, there was a pretty big ruckus. There was a BNF, whose works became so popular that it was all anyone would talk about so some people got tired (there were like 200 members back then). So discussions of the BNF's work got relegated to a thread. Later on tumblr some other authors criticized the bnf's work (all her fics reeked of internalized misogyny even if her writing was good, so it's not surprising) thinking she'd never see it (she was on twitter not tumblr), but somehow she came to know and brought it up in the server. The other authors apologized, but then some others got into the discussion and it got into a whole ass free for all where some were siding with the bnf saying how unfair it was that her work had to go into threads instead of the normal channels, and how others mocked her and how she'd been patient. Another group sided with the other authors and said that they had a right to criticism, they hadn't done it on a platform where the bnf would see it anyways, and the bnf had created unnecessary drama by dragging the issues into the server. Long story short, bnf quit the fandom, a number of people got kicked, and 'leave your issues at the door' got added to the server rules, and it was suggested that criticism be done on private groups and stuff where others wouldnt see it (not a rule because the mods made it clear they would not handle any drama outside of the server). There was a little disagreement between two members when one of the actors got accused of being racist (unfairly, imo, based on a couple of paparazzi pics, and the accusations have since been blown away). But that was all. I could find no other records of controversies or bullying, and I spent quite a bit of time searching.

Overall my personal experience has been positive in the server. The closest you get to a disagreement is just people crackshipping the craziest ships and making up increasingly ridiculous scenarios for crack while others go 'MY EYEEEES' or 'BRAIN BLEACH BRAIN BLEACH' but it's all in fun and those members are very close friends who know there's no ill will. And yet every time I see criticism of the server I feel hesitant and wonder whether I'm deluding myself, whether I'm so desperate to have contact with this fandom that I'm turning a blind eye to stuff (even though I don't think I am). But not one, not two, but three different people have said these issues exist on the server, and while one or two could be clowns, ALL of them can't be, right? Not to mention the drama last year.

I don't know, I love being on the server, but whenever I see things like this it makes me uneasy. I'm not sure what to do, I don't want to be a part of it if all these accusations are true.

--

Wait and see, I guess. A bunch of people complaining about a space could mean anything from a literal conspiracy to smear its name to the natural disagreements that arise wherever people congregate to secret nastiness you haven't noticed.

[justtogetthrough]

It'll be a week til I get the feedback forms from foster parents but my colleagues and upper management were THRILLED about my training today. I didn't finish it early enough to memorize so I was freaking out and so stressed out. My manager called me 30 mins before it this morning for the kind of pep talk she used to give me before meetings. Speak loud and strong, etc etc. Things i used to struggle with but haven't in a long time. I was so short with her bc I was anxious and trying to get another read through in before it began and she was wasting my time. So I let her speak for as long as I could tolerate before saying look, I'm busy preparing, is it okay if I let you go?

I ran out of time in the training which I wasn't expecting to (the script should have timed out well but again, not memorized, so) and I had to improvise a little. Missed the last couple slides but I can add to the follow up material being emailed out. I got through the academic part of it successfully though, IMO - this is the part I was most worried about losing people.

I had a foster parent and one of the managers text me during the break half way that they were LOVING IT and then after the training I had more staff reach out. What kills me though is the executive director herself called me after it all. I was so scared when she asked me to call her back so vaguely and sternly. She had to sit in on it because with any sensitive trainings that there's a chance people will be offended and complain, she ensures she is present for it to see what exactly is said. The last time we had a sensitive training it never even made it to the foster parents because of how rattled the white people on staff got. So I was very prepared for this to be deemed inappropriate or too upsetting and figured she was calling to be like yeah, pulling the plug on part 2. No more.

But... the ED called me and just absolutely raved about how amazing it was and how much I impressed her. We don't work together at ALL, ever, to the point where if I dye my hair she hasn't even recognized me lol. She *does* hear about me now and then through my manager in supervision and stuff, and the ED is kept abreast of me going on emergency medical leaves about once a year due to my mental health going into crisis and so I chronically worry she and my manager will decide I'm too unstable to be relied upon for this job. No reason really, I'm just scared bc of stigma and shit. And especially bc the ED doesn't know me at all, or see me doing my thing at work - so in my head I worry that all she sees me as is someone who's mentally unstable and unreliable lol.

So... I was absolutely freaked out that she'd be watching this training, my first run of a brand new training I literally only finished yesterday, and I was very worried because if extra people were gonna sit in (tons did) I wished it was the second or third run through not first. When she called she did explain that she wanted to be there primarily for liability purposes which makes way more sense at least, less judgey and more just back up in case ppl got mad.

But damn, the things she said. I cried. I covered my face because I was smiling so much it hurt - she had so much praise for me and she said she was so impressed at how I presented and handled the topic and just, how effective and warm and knowledgeable I was. She acknowledged she's never really seen me do anything in a professional capacity so she was extremely blown away, the way I carried myself and extended so much compassion and respect to our foster parents on a difficult and controversial topic she said exceeded her expectations and she wanted to personally congratulate me on a job well done.

It took me hours to recover emotionally from that honestly lol.

It was so nice.

This training is why I've been collecting things under the #trans tag for a year. It's been over a year of working on this training on gender identity. I present part 2 in December which is longer than I hoped for but meh. I have put so. much. work. into this. The feedback today has made it feel so worth it. Besides serving as the final thing that gets me my masters degree, which is itself huge, but these are non academic people. This is real world. Direct impact on people and their lives. It's so surreal.

I'm also just so glad to have this off my plate for now. The last 3 weeks of finishing it for todays deadline has been intense, it has taken up so much of my time. I work from 9-5 and then have been spending 6-10 or 11 preparing this training every single day. So stressful. To present the first half of it today and to have IMPRESSED so many people has been exhilarating. I'm so happy. It's been so wonderful.

I also really hope I get a good raise this summer now that my ED knows how awesome and skilled I am 😂 My talents are not exactly used to their fullest in my role, but my agency is really great about letting me do things like trainings and other forms of advocacy when I feel drawn to, especially when it comes to certain topics (especially queer stuff, but other things too), and it's a neat thing. My salary sucks balls but the work is so fulfilling and great for me in almost every other way.

But yeah this training preparation has been a big reason why I've been quiet lately. Spending all god damn day on my computer makes me really not wanna go on my phone at night once I'm in bed ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway. That's a lil joy from my life today. A huge joy really. I cried from happiness and was euphoric for hours 🙂