#so it has a special place in our household

[muppetsnoopy]

guys im so excited for wrestling tomorrow

[shiftchii]

U.A. High in my DR !

Basics

Students are separated randomly into specific departments and classes sectioned by the letters A-K.

These departments are:

Department of Heroics (A - B): Students in this department learn everything they need to know in order to become excellent heroes in service to the community. They are trained in battle, first aid, rescue, support, and all manners of heroic-related lessons.

Department of General Education C - E): Students who don’t make it to the hero course are included here. This department supports students aiming for college and other pursuits. It’s also possible for students with good grades and exceptional strength and quirk skills to be transferred into the hero course (And either the support or business course mind you). Basically regular HS but they get to say that they went to UA on their resume.

Department of Support (F - H): Students here focus on developing support equipment that helps heroes out on the battlefield. With a workspace stock to the brim with all sorts of special tools and their own studio to build things, this department provides an unmatched creative environment.

Department of General Management (I - K): This department focuses on all aspects of heroic business, from the founding and managing of hero agencies to the promotion of public opinion regarding heroes. They even do hands-on lessons in venture capitalism. They have a lot of free time.

Each class is usually comprised of 21 students. That means that the total student population at UA would be 693.

We stay in the same class with the same teacher for all 3 years.

Since UA is a highly prestigious school, we get a lot of funding and benefits for the dorms and when we go on trips and whatnot. (Food we buy for the dorms is paid for, we get free snacks/concessions in the sports festival, free hero costume updates and renewals)

The school curriculum is way less loaded than here. The school system is much better.

The Hero Teachers are actually good at teaching.

Since U.A. is famous, it has many sponsors with support and hero merch companies, so some hero course students (usually 3rd years) have their own hero merch already. Students are sometimes sponsored and do photoshoots and are invited to red carpet events. (Following the School Festival, Class 1-A gets loads of sponsors and stuff!)

The teachers and students are encouraged to decorate their classes and most of them do so.

U.A. has a popular school website.

Staff and students are recommended to have Twitter to update the public events, the majority of the students obviously don't take this seriously, there's always someone who has beef and makes it public (Monoma) and it always ends up like those MHA Tweets, it’s the funniest thing ever.

Schedule

School is Monday - Friday and starts at 8:25 and finishes at 15:10. Regular classes take place during the first half of school, then the afternoon (for the Dept. of Heroics) you will have hero training. Only Dept. of Heroics students have an additional 7th period.

The teachers move between classes while the students stay in 1 class (besides electives).

Wednesdays are half days and only consist of hero training (so no typical school work), though sometimes it's replaced by FHS. You also don't have to wear your uniform on Wednesdays.

We will always have some kind of free time for school despite our somewhat busy schedules.

Not all school days are the same (emergency drills, other schools coming to train with us, etc.).

Classes

Core Subjects for Dept. of Heroics

Homeroom: Taught by Aizawa. Acts as a study hall. The class reps will often give a small meeting with the class about important events during this period.

Japanese: Taught by Cementoss. Focuses on reading, writing, and literature.

Mathematics: Taught by Ectoplasm. Covers algebra, geometry, and calculus.

English: Taught by Present Mic. Emphasizes reading, writing, and conversation skills.

Home Economics: Taught by Midnight. Cooking and other aspects of household management.

Foundational Hero Studies (FHS): Taught by All Might, Aizawa or Midnight. Hero related studying: hero laws, safety precautions, first aid, jsl, media training, dividing hero and civilian identity etc.

Hero Training: Taught by various teachers, usually Aizawa or All Might, it changes every week and we are informed about the activities during homeroom. For example: Quirkless Combat, Rescue Training, Combat, Quirk Training etc.

Elective Subjects

Thought by various teachers. This is the only class where students move instead of teachers, these are shared, so you could end up with classmates from other classes. Students get to completely choose what electives they have. If they don’t choose, they are placed in extra training or study hall.

Options:

Foreign Languages (e.g., Chinese, Korean)

Journalism

Art Foundations

Photography

Ceramics

Psychology

Choir

Band

Orchestra

Woodshop

Metalshop

Chemistry

Poetry

Cooking

Baking

Biology

Physics

Film Analysis

Computer Programming

Animal Work

Volunteer Work

Theatre

Student Council

Literature Analysis

Forensics

Study Hall

Class 1-A Timetable

Around UA campus

The updated UA security system is really good. The sensors are so good, you don't even need to have your ID out. They can scan it anywhere on your person. If you lost or misplaced your ID, the gates also have facial recognition software, so it's fine. If you're not a student or staff, you NEED a visitor pass or the school will go into lockdown on you.

We can use our school IDs to get snacks and drinks from vending machines around the school hallways. It’s free and they are replenished daily.

UA has a courtyard where we can eat outside. Most of the 2nd and 3rd years get food from places outside of the school campus and eat outside in the courtyard. Because of this, the cafeteria isn't as crowded and when we eat lunch we can sit and enjoy our food comfortably. The cafeteria is also luxurious and looks like a fancy mall café.

The library is huge and has many resources with much to explore. There are many different levels with varying types of quiet floors and study halls. It's also open 24/7 so students who are fighting to finish a project can pull all-nighters.

There’s a little shop that has U.A. and hero merch and school supplies including books for courses. You can also buy the merch on the online website.

UA has extracurricular groups and clubs for those who aren't in the hero course such as other sports and things like cheerleaders, debate, theater, music, cooking, ballet, and much more. I mean, hero course students CAN do those things but they WILL have a hard time doing so all while dealing with said hero responsibilities. As mentioned before, business course students have a lot of free time and general ED students are basically regular HS students who just so happen to be going to UA and for support course students, it really depends on how much work you choose to take on for yourself.

There is a study center where students who need extra help can go. Students with failing grades must go here for a set amount of hours to get the help they need. It’s strictly work, and talking about anything other than school is basically prohibited. It’s usually run by Ectoplasm and his clones or Hound Dog.

Work studies & Internships

All first years do an internship, it’s required. This is usually after the sports festival when students have had a chance to show off their skills.

Work studies are basically experience-oriented off-study programs that allow students in the hero course who have Provisional Licenses to work with pros at their agencies. Students will be able to use their quirks under the guidance of a pro, and can even be dispatched to fight villains and help out in disaster areas. If you do well, you can be scouted to become the hero’s sidekick.

Work studies are a more serious version of internships. They entail helping pro heroes on the streets and with investigations. They are usually reserved for 2nd and 3rd-year students, who usually have their licenses. 1st years didn't do them in the past. However, with the rise of villain activity, the school decided to open up work studies to 1st years as well, albeit a very small and select few of them. If they didn't find a good agency with a proven track record they wouldn't do it at all.

Events

U.A. has seasonal dances and a lot of events, like Halloween, Hero Day and other festivals.

Uniforms

Color palette

The uniforms the students receive consist of 4 sets of each clothing (besides the coat and varsity jacket):

Shirts

Long sleeve

Short sleeved

Sleeveless

Blazer

Long sleeves

Sleeveless

Cardigans

Sleeveless (two color variations)

Long sleeved (two color variations)

Sweaters

Sleeveless (two color variations)

Long sleeved (two color variations)

Pants

Shorts

Below The Knee

Classic

Skirts

Mini

Below The Knee

Maxi

Ties

Necktie

Bow Tie

Socks

Quarter

Crew

Knee High

Thigh High

Tights

Shoes

Coat

Varsity Jacket

Gym Clothing

Tank top

Loose Zip-up Sweatshirt (long sleeves, short sleeves, sleeveless)

Cropped Zip-up Sweatshirt (long sleeves, short sleeves, sleeveless)

Shorts

Below Knee Shorts

Sweatpants

Swimwear

Sleeveless, Short sleeved and Long sleeved

Lanyards

Uniforms aren’t required on Wednesdays

Students are allowed to accessorize their uniforms however they want and wear their own jackets

Piercings, colored hair, nails, makeup etc. are allowed

The uniforms aren’t gendered - all students receive all versions and are allowed to wear whichever one they prefer

For students with mutant type Quirks, custom made uniforms are made

Button and sleeve/lapel stripe differences between the department uniforms [1-General education, 2-Hero, 3-Support, 4-Management].

School Bag

Along with the Uniforms the school hands out bags. You can return them and use your own if you’d like.

A standard deep blue nylon matching the uniforms. The U.A. logo sits at the right bottom corner.

Class

If you’re standing at the front of the classroom looking out at the desks, the seating arrangement starts at the leftmost side of the room (“A” names), going front to back and then going to the next row to the right, and so on.  keep in mind that the alphabetical order here is based on the Japanese alphabet. My number is 10.

Here's how I laid out the desks for 21 students:

Since we stay in the same classrooms for most of the days we can leave out stuff at our desks. They have shelves underneath with 2 outlets and lots of space.

Class 1-A Friend Groups

Everyone is actually really close, but those are what groups spend the most time together. Of course we hang out in different groups or all together too.

We have frequent movie and game nights, 1-A has a group chat and it’s always active, there’s always someone wanting to do something. Sometimes we invite people from other classes.

DekuSquad

Izuku

Ochako

Tenya

Tsuyu

Shouto

Haruka

Hitoshi (after he joins our class)

BakuSquad

Katsuki

Eijirou

Mina

Denki

Minoru

Hanta

TokoSquad

Fumikage

Mashirao

Mezou

Tooru

MomoSquad

Momo

Kyoka

Yuga

Kouji

Rikido

I hope this was helpful! <3

© credits: seating arrangement • basics @/Priicklleshifts on TikTok • uniforms • dividers

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Contronyms

Contronym

A word that has two meanings that are opposite or nearly opposite.

Example: Left means both “leave” (two people had left) and “remain” (How many people are left?), which are antonyms.

An antonym is a word that is opposite in meaning to another.

Contronyms are also known as Janus words.

Janus was an ancient Roman god with two faces that looked in opposite directions.

Another term for these words is auto-antonym, or a word that means the opposite of itself.

Technical terms for this phenomenon are enantiosemy, enantionymy, or antilogy.

Examples of Contronyms

Cleave

Comes from two different Old English words, clēofan and cleofian, which is how it got these two opposite meanings.

Cleave: to split, to separate (Owen swung the axe down hard in order to cleave the log into two even pieces.)

Cleave: to adhere closely, to stick (Young beaver pups cleave to their mother in the water until they are strong enough to swim on their own.)

Dust

When used as a verb, is a contronym.

Dust: to wipe the dust from (Every Saturday, he would dust the nicknacks on the bookshelves to keep them clean.)

Dust: to sprinkle with a powder or dust (The baker liked to dust their pumpkin bread with just a sprinkle of cinnamon.)

Overlook

Overlook: to fail to notice, perceive, or consider (I hadn’t finished the last two homework questions, but I hoped my teacher would overlook it and give me full marks anyway.)

Overlook: to look after, oversee, or supervise (The manager was required to personally overlook the transfer of valuable materials every evening.)

Sanction

Sanction: to authorize, approve, or allow (My parents wouldn’t sanction video games in our home because they thought they were too violent.)

Sanction: to penalize (The school said they were going to sanction the students for arriving late to class.)

Weather

The word weather is a contronym, but only when used as a verb.

Weather: to expose to the weather, to disintegrate (The paint on the house was chipped and weathered from the decades of rain and snow.)

Weather: to endure (We weren’t sure that we would be able to weather the storm if we didn’t find shelter.)

Back Up

Back up: to support (Ultimately, the scientists were unable to back up their claims with hard evidence.)

Back up: to retreat (The zebras backed up when they spotted the alligators in the water.)

Fine

The adjective fine has the potential to lead to some real misunderstandings about just how excellent (or not) something is.

Fine: of superior or best quality (To prepare for the Queen’s visit, the household staff cleaned the fine linens and polished the best silver.)

Fine (informal): satisfactorily, acceptably (Sandra thought her performance was fine, but nothing special, so she was surprised when she won second place.)

Original

The adjective original is an example of a contronym.

Original: belonging to the beginning of something (Despite being hundreds of years old, the painting was still in its original frame.)

Original: new, fresh, inventive (While sitting in the bathtub, the inventor was struck with an original idea.)

Pitted

The contronym pitted often causes confusion at the grocery store.

Pitted: having pits; in the sense of “mark or indent” (The sailor’s face was pitted and craggy from the wind and salt water.)

Pitted: having the pit removed; in the sense of “stone of a fruit” (My mom reminded me to buy the pitted cherries, because she didn’t want to take out the stones herself.)

Bound

Bound is an example of a contronym that has two different meanings because it actually has two different etymologies. The first meaning comes from the Old English bindan. The second meaning comes from the Old Norse būinn, “to get ready.”

Bound: tied, fastened or secured with a band or bond (The Mountie rushed to save the woman who was bound to the railroad tracks.)

Bound: going or intending to go, destined [for] (With all of their talents, the band was bound to be a success.)

Source ⚜ More: Basics & Refreshers ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[enthusiasticharry]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 10k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I'm so sorry!! I know it's been forever since i've posted and i truly did start writing this to have it out in august but then life got a head of me! I had to move, start a new job it's all be crazy. Now, I can officially say that I'll try and post more regularly (but i can't guarantee anything!) thank you for all the support over the last two and a bit years on this fic, i couldn't ever leave it unfinished for you guys!! enjoy the last chapter of regret me and if you need me, i'll be sobbing in a corner somewhere!!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, talks of drug/ alcohol use, mentions of addiction recovery, angst (i'm sorry), and a stupid little boy who finally realises how amazing he has it.

𝐩𝐥𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟓 here

Los Angeles, Spring 1985

The Rise and Fall (and Rise Again) of a Rock n’ Roll Star by Christopher Thomas

Standing in front of YN YLN’s home, I was nervous. The house itself wasn’t exactly what one may expect of one of the biggest stars to come out of the 70s – it was homely, comforting and not necessarily a ‘rock star mansion’. My nerves stemmed more consequently from the woman I was meeting; one I hadn’t seen in over 10 years and hadn’t necessarily left the best impression at that time either.

However, the second I rang the bell and the door swung open – the past didn’t seem to matter. YLN was wearing a denim skirt, one that landed just above her knee and a light floral blouse with long sleeves that the singer had definitely worn before, or if not something very similar. We chuckled when I pointed out her footwear (her beloved cowboy boots) – something that wasn’t surprising to me and shouldn’t be to any of you. She invited me in and offered me a coffee – something that I was not going to say no to.

After a little small talk, asking how we’d been and so forth, it became time to get to the nitty gritty of my visit, and what everyone reading had been waiting for. After being a household name for the better part of ten years – YN YLN was finally a Grammy nominee. For someone who had been in the spotlight for so long, many may have thought that she was past her prime and that her eighth studio album wasn’t going to be anything special – and yet it was her best one.

“I think it’s raw,” YLN spoke when asked about what was different with this record from her others, “I stopped hiding. It’s the truth – I think people are appreciating the truth from me.”

There was a part of me which was scared to go forward with questioning from here, but with a quick reassurance from YN that it was okay – I continued. In the last four months since her album had been released, YN had started to open conversations about her addiction, something that I had asked her about years prior, at a time when she was in the wrath of her addiction and refused to comment. Looking back, it wasn’t my best moment as a journalist.

“I had freedom that I hadn’t even experienced before,” The air felt thicker as YLN spoke upon this subject, “I went from 0 to 100, and if it wasn’t for the people around me that loved me at that time, I wouldn’t be here today, talking to you.”

The house YLN lives in sits right on the Californian coast, a quiet and calm place away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Once we had finished our coffees, YN suggested a walk down to the beach. She explains that her best friend, Vivienne (“She’s my sister,”), lives in the next house and that she hasn’t gone a day without speaking to her since the day they met, and she wasn’t going to start now.

“Vivienne is my family. I lost interest in my actual family when I realised they didn’t love me, but Viv never made me miss them – she became everything I needed and more. She saw me as a naïve young girl on the strip without a single clue and helped me when she didn’t need to. I’ll never be able to thank her enough.”

YLN mentions her family, more so her parents Mr and Mrs YLN. Her father, a senator seemingly didn’t agree with her new lifestyle and her music even more so, and it seemed as though whatever her father said her mother agreed with. When I asked if the way they had treated her had anything to do with her addiction, and her subsequent overdose YN went silent, choosing not to comment verbally but physically shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t regret anything in my life,” YN takes out a cigarette, offering me one which I accept, “I have come to realise that everything happens for a reason, and I’ve loved and lost for a reason. It’s made me the person I am today.”

The last time I spoke with YLN, she was in a relationship with fellow Rock n’ Roll star Harry Styles, who I have also written for in the past. YLN and Styles have never publicly spoken about the reason behind their split, but rumours surfaced soon after that Styles had been the one to cheat on YLN just before her first world tour.

“I would say that for any songwriter, heartbreak can be a big influence,” YLN chuckles, shaking her head slightly, “I won’t say what happened, I think if anyone has listened to any of my records, especially my latest one – you’ll already know what happened. It was one part of my life, and I don’t hold anything that happened against anyone.”

YN asks for a break after this and asks if we can reconvene later in the day. She recommended that we meet at a café for some late lunch that is a mile or so away from her house. I thought, like probably many of you, YLN would return from the beach to her house. Instead, she made her way up the sand and towards Vivienne’s house, obviously needing some time with her best friend.

“I hope that whoever listens to the album finds something for themselves within it,” YN speaks, sipping on her Iced Tea as we sat across from each other in the café, “It’s my gift for everyone. I hope that everyone who has ever had something to say about me or my life listens to it, and it answers whatever questions they may have.”

YLN lists her relationship, her addiction and everything in between as things that people may have questions about. Since the 70s, the amount of information that the public has known about her has dwindled and she says that is for a reason.

“I had to separate my life from the life that people saw,” YLN nods, “To protect myself, I needed that. All I hope is that people weren’t too angry with me.”

Once we’ve eaten (both having burgers since YLN said that it was the best thing on the menu, and both the waitress and the owner knew her by name), we go outside to have another cigarette. We both joked that we would quit smoking one day, but today was not going to be that day.

“I’ll be there… at the awards,” YN responds when I ask her about whether or not she will be attending the Grammy’s, “I don’t necessarily care about winning – it would be lovely, of course, but it’s not going to make or break me. I’ve lasted this long without; I am damn sure I can last for a lot longer.”

As our time together drew to a close, I asked what I suppose myself and many others are wondering – does YN see an end to her career anytime in the future?

YLN chuckled at the question, “I’ll do this as long as I can if the people will have me.”

If it was up to me, I’d say that YLN will be a name that sticks around for years to come. But, I suppose that’s down to you.

“I know your cowboy boots are like you’re thing or whatever, YN, but I highly doubt that it’s the best look for the Grammys,” Vivienne speaks from where she’s laid upon the bed in YN’s hotel room.

“I don’t feel right without them, Viv, I have to wear them,” YN stresses from where she’s sat, having her makeup done.

Pamela snorts from where she’s lying next to Vivienne. Since they met, Vivienne and Pamela have been inseparable. Therefore, that means that Vivienne, Pamela, and YN have been inseparable. It was a package deal, unfortunately for Pamela, but she didn’t mind too much. The things that Pamela did mind though, however that YN not only had a key to their house but would invite herself in pretty much all of the time. It had become the case that waking up in the morning without three people in their bed instead of two was the norm. At first, Pamela would be confused and disorientated, and then she soon realised that was just what the two girls were like. Where there was one, there was the other not too far behind.

“Pam, I’m nearly done and then it’s your turn,” YN stresses, allowing her make-up artist, Claude, to finish the final touches on her makeup.

Pamela groans, dropping back on the bed and pushing herself into Vivienne’s body. The other girl groans but accepts her fate as her girlfriend’s body rests against her. It wasn’t that anyone was forcing Pamela to wear makeup – she knew it was for the best, considering they were about to be on live television, it just wasn’t something that she normally did. But, as much as this was YN’s moment and her first Grammy nomination, it was Pamela’s too – and that meant, in YN’s eyes, she deserved to be spoilt, too. Pamela hadn’t necessarily ever expected her first band to split up, but it was always a possibility. It was a huge life change, and she hadn’t a single clue of what she was going to do once it happened. Then, when YN invited her to the studio and they started to work on some songs together, they both knew that it made sense for all parties involved that Pamela join YN’s band. That has also meant that Vivienne has been the band’s photographer since that moment as well. As mentioned before, the trio are often never seen without each other.

Apart from being the band’s photographer whenever they needed, Vivienne had also opened her gallery – something that she had always wanted to do but never had the opportunity to do.  Seeing her best friend and her favourite person excel in the way that she had done warmed YN in ways that she couldn’t explain.

“Do I have to?” Pamela groaned, pressing her face deeper into Vivienne’s chest.

“Yes,” YN stood up once she had finished, lifting one of the pillows that had been absentmindedly thrown to the bottom of the bed up and hitting the girl with it. It took a few attempts, but soon Pamela had pushed herself up from Vivienne and, with a sulk on her face, sat in the chair, “Thank you. I know you don’t think so, but I’m doing this with your best interest at heart.”

Pamela just groans and crosses her arms over her chest, allowing Claude to get started. Trying her best not to mess her makeup up, YN drops down on the bed next to Vivienne. YN found herself picking at the hole that sat around the wrist of the sweater she was wearing. It was an attempt at not trying to show the nerves that were wracking around her body – but it was difficult, especially when the people in the room were YN’s closest confidants and knew every little tick that the girl had.

“Look,” Vivienne reaches over and grabs YN’s hand, “If you’re nervous about the awards, it’s honestly too fucking unlikely that you won’t win.”

YN snorts, accepting Vivienne’s reassuring squeeze, “Thanks Viv, but I don’t think it’s that.”

“Ah,” The girl nods, “It’s about Harry, isn’t it?”

The announcement for who would be presenting the awards came out a few weeks ago, and whilst YN had originally not thought it was important to know who it would be – it very quickly became obvious that wasn’t the case. When the presenters had been announced, Vivienne had received word of who would be presenting Album of the Year and had immediately rushed over to YN’s house. Being a two-time winner of the award himself (once for Harry’s House, the album that she had written with him), it shouldn’t have surprised YN as much as it did that Harry would be presenting the award.

Knowing that her chances to win were so likely, YN had wondered if it was sort of a set-up. Whoever had decided to ask Harry to do so knew of their past and knew that it would make a lovely bit of new gossip. That was unfortunately where YN’s mind went, and that’s what stressed her out slightly. Especially since her album was so open about her feelings, and even more so about Harry and their relationship – this wasn’t something that she would have ever asked for.

“I’ve just spent so long… so long, Viv, trying to change the narrative of my life,” YN sighs, now starting to pick at the polish on her nails, “And him being there, after I’ve spent so long trying to reclaim my story for me, I’m just scared of how I’m going to react. I don’t want this to be the thing that spirals me right back to the person I was.”

Vivienne sighed, shaking her head, and lifting their joint hands to press a kiss to the back of YN’s hand, “YN… you are not the person you were back then. Trust me, I was right there with you. I mean… God, if that man tries to say anything to me I might lose my shit, but you won’t lose yours. You’ve grown, you’ve matured and most importantly you’ve forgiven yourself. You thought you needed him – but you didn’t.”

YN nodded her head, wanting nothing more than to accept Vivienne’s words and believe them. She hoped she would at least that her face convinced Viv that she was believing her words. The truth was when YN reflected on that time of her life (mostly when she had finished writing her newest record), there were parts of her that wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t reacted the way she had. It was mostly what would have happened to her and Harry if they had handled the situation differently. Because, to YN at that part of her life (and sometimes now) she felt as though Harry was going to be it for her. That she was his, and he was hers.

YN truly did think that she was going to spend the rest of her life with Harry. He saw her and loved her through her hardest times, and yet it was when her life was truly starting to get back on track that she lost her faith in him. It hurt her soul and truly sent her spiralling through the idea that she could only ever be loved when she was broken – and it took her a long time to realise that wasn’t the case.

“It’s just… I think..” YN shook her head, struggling to articulate the words that were swimming around in her head, “My message, especially with this album, is so much more than what we were and what happened to us… I don’t want to lose that.”

“You won’t,” It was Pamela that spoke up this time, from the makeup chair, “You are going to do what you do best, YN, you are going to dodge and dive any of the sleazy questions and hold yourself with grace and fucking win that Grammy. You can even thank him for breaking your heart because it made you stronger, and it made you the person you are today.”

YN smiles, trying her best not to tear up and ruin the makeup that Claude had worked so hard on, “You’re right… it’s my day, not his. And anyway, it’s been so long since we last spoke that I honestly doubt he’s even thought about me.”

“He has,” Vivienne nods, “I know you haven’t listened to his albums – but I have. Trust me, he has.”

“God,” YN’s eyes widen, “Don’t say that! That makes me more nervous!”

Vivienne shakes her head, “No, nope, not letting you do that. Come on, I’m going to do your hair, then you’re going to put your pretty little dress on, and we are going to go and win that award.”

YN knew that it was silly, but if she had these girls behind her – she could do anything she put her mind to.

Chicago, 1975 – 5 minutes after the concert

“YN!” YN didn’t listen to Harry’s calls of her name as she stormed off stage. She had no idea where she was going or what she was doing, but all she knew was that she had to get far away. Far away from Harry, far away from Mary and far away from everyone who would know that something was wrong, “YN! Stop walking away from me!”

“Why would I listen to anything you say anymore?” YN scoffs, wiping the tears from off her wet cheeks. She turned down a hallway and realised that it was a dead end. She stopped and sighed, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to get away from him now – and also that they would have to have this conversation where anyone could hear them.

“I need to explain, YN,” Harry sighs from behind her, but she still doesn’t turn to look at him, “Let me explain, please.”

That’s the thing when you love someone – even when they fuck up, you can’t say no to them. That was what YN was struggling with. This man had hurt her, done something inexcusable to her and yet he wanted her to listen, and she was going to do that. It was just who she was, and it’s just what love is.

YN turned to face Harry, slightly shocked at the sight of his reddened face matching hers, “Explain then. Try and explain what I saw!”

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair, “It wasn’t what it looked like at all – she came on to me. I would never do this to you, you know that!”

“You only pushed her off because I was there!” YN exclaimed, “To me, it looked like you would have had ample opportunity to walk away, to push her away to say fucking no, Harry, but she was still on you!”

“I tried, YN, I fucking tried,” Harry claimed, clearly becoming more exasperated by the second, “She was coked out of her fucking mind! She was high, and on an adrenaline rush and there was no stopping her without hurting her!”

“Then fucking hurt her, Harry,” YN points her finger in his direction, “You were supposed to be mine. Mine. Not hers. I fucking knew she was up to something, and I never said a word because I trusted you! I trusted you more than I trusted myself.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Harry shakes his head, “Blame this all on me. Tell me to hurt her and that she was up to something but not once in any of that did you come to me and tell me that!”

“Oh, good one,” YN chuckles, “I didn’t fucking tell you Harry because I trusted you! And I also thought you had eyes and a pretty good eye for this shit. You should’ve fired her months ago, and you know it. The drugs, the booze, the partying – it’s not who you associate with!”

“I associated with you.”

His words stop YN right in her tracks. She couldn’t believe what he was saying to her. She didn’t want to believe what he was saying to her. She had thought that he would’ve never, ever, put her past against her like that and here he was.

“You did,” YN nodded, “You helped me and loved me when I didn’t know I needed that. All I could hope is that you seeing me like that, loving me like that would make you realise that you shouldn’t be around people like that.”

“She’s a good fucking singer, YN, the crowd responds to her. You’re saying I’m just supposed to fire her because she’s an addict? – come off your fucking high horse.”

“No,” YN shakes her head, “I’m telling you that firing her would have been the right option so that she could get help. This life is not the life that addicts need, you and I both know that. You’re enabling her, allowing her delusions to run, and hurting me in the process! You let her get on top of you, let her kiss you. At no point did you think why? Why does she have the confidence to do this to taken man? It’s because she has no inhibitions, no awareness of her actions!”

“So this is all her fault, yeah? Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, I’m saying it’s your fault,” YN took a step forward, pointing her finger against his chest, “You should have realised, you should have put a stop to it. But, now I’m thinking you didn’t want to. Now I’m thinking that you didn’t mind someone coming in and ruining our relationship in this way. I don’t know maybe I wasn’t giving you enough attention, maybe I was getting bigger than you could handle now I’m sober – maybe I don’t ride your dick good enough, I don’t fucking know!”

Harry goes silent, obviously stumped at the girl’s words. Unfortunately for him, that gave YN everything that she needed to know. In her head, all she could think was that he was understanding her, and he wasn’t seeing this from her perspective.

“She hasn’t come in and ruined our relationship, YN,” Harry sighs, shaking his head, “She hasn’t ruined our relationship, you’re the one doing that by not listening to me.”

YN gasps, and that’s it. She lifts her arms and pushes past Harry. He tries to reach out for her, but she pulls away from him.

“YN, you can’t walk away from this,” He calls from behind her, but YN carries on walking. She storms through the hallways, brushing past people lingering in the hallway and hoping that none of them would stop her.

Despite Harry’s calls of her name and the fact that this place is like a fucking maze YN somehow manages to find herself outside. The only problem was Harry had followed her. YN fumbles with her cigarette carton in her pocket and despite her shaking hands she manages to light one.

“Are you finally going to listen to me?” Harry asks, throwing his arms open.

“Are you finally going to listen to me?” She retorts, raising her eyebrow at him.

He shrugs, “What do you want me to say? Sorry? I’m fucking sorry YN.”

YN nods, letting the words settle for a minute. She’d seen this man sorry before, she knew what he was feeling and knew the signs of his true feelings. Whatever he was saying, and trying to express right now she knew wasn’t him. She didn’t know who he was.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” YN shakes her head, “I’m going back to the hotel, packing my shit and going home – I’ll see you in L.A.”

YN turns and walks away, ignoring Harry’s calls to her. The fact that he dared to shout that she was the one leaving this relationship and not working on it as she walked away was crazy to her, and yet here he was. She knew that being on the road changed people, but she didn’t think that it would change him this much. He was her everything, and now she didn’t even want to look him in the eye.

There was always a part of her that thought this was too good to be true, and something was going to ruin it. She would be lying if she said that she didn’t think she would be the one guilty of such, but it seems like it was him that caused this and seemingly had little to no remorse for his actions.

As much as it was going to be difficult, she couldn’t let this ruin her tour. More so, she wasn’t going to let it ruin her life. She had worked too fucking hard.

The second that their car arrives on the carpet, YN knows that everything that she was feeling and all of the memories that had been brought to the surface had to be pushed away. This was her night, one to celebrate with her band and her friends and not bring anything from the past up at all.

Out of all of the awards shows she has been to, YN pulled out all of the stops. The dress she had decided upon was a forest green, one which complimented her darkening hair. It had layers and lace, draping around her arms but allowing her figure to be shown at the same time. Vivienne had styled her hair to perfection, just as the girl always does. Even though Vivienne wasn’t a hairstylist by trade, there wasn’t a single person that YN would trust with her hair besides Vivienne. The last and final touch to her outfit was her cowboy boots and despite Vivienne’s protests when she pulled them on – they truly made her feel like herself.

YN isn’t even two metres onto the carpet before a camera is thrust in her face, a reporter standing by, ready to ask her question upon a question that YN had no control over. It was only in the latter years of her career that she found herself truly in the hands of the media. If her name was mentioned before, she wasn’t in a state of mind to know anything of it.

“YN, it’s your first Grammy Awards, how are you feeling? Nervous? Excited?” The reporter asks, thrusting a microphone into her face before she can even think properly.

“Uh,” YN hesitates for a moment before a small smile crosses her lips, “A bit of both of those, I think. It’s an honour to be invited and nominated at that, but it’s also a little nerve-wracking in the same sense. All I do know is that each person who is nominated deserves that win, and even if it isn’t me I’ll still be grateful for the invitation.”

“How do you feel about reuniting with someone from your past today? Harry Styles. I’m sure you’re aware that he’s announcing your category?”

YN’s heart starts to beat ten times quicker, her palms sweating, but she’s thanking God for all of the media training that she’d been given over the years, “I admire Harry so much as an artist, and has won the category twice before – I can’t name anyone more deserving to present the category.”

The reporter doesn’t look too impressed by her answer, but with more thanks to the reporter and a nod from Vivienne, she decides it’s probably time to move on and get inside. YN immediately links her arm with Vivienne’s and tries to calm her breathing down.

“Was that okay? I think I fully blanked for a second there,” YN mutters the second that they are out of earshot of anybody but the two of them, “I honestly think I just spewed absolute shit at them.”

“It was absolute shit,” Vivienne nodded, pushing one of YN’s curls over her shoulder, “But, as far as PR think it was probably absolutely perfect shit.”

The two girls share a giggle. Pamela joins them a few seconds later, having just come out of her interview, and feels a similar level of confusion and delusion to YN. They take some more photos just as they enter the building, and even though there are calls from left and right for photos of YN on her own – she doesn’t stray from her girls. She could’ve, and she knows that in the future, she might regret not having one fully alone on the carpet – but now, the idea of having to stand on her own without Vivienne or Pamela to hold her up was unbearable.

Once they make it inside the building, YN fully intends to beeline straight towards the drinks. She needed something to chug down to get rid of the cottonmouth she currently had. It wasn’t going to be alcohol, and she certainly knew that – but anything would have been better than the feeling that currently was in her mouth.

“Can I have a glass of water, please? Or soda? Or anything without alcohol?” The bartender looks at her confused, as though he wasn’t suspecting anybody to ask for anything non-alcoholic that evening. YN had offered the man a short but sweet smile in thanks, knowing that if she had opened her mouth she might have said something that she would later come to regret, and beelined straight for where Vivienne and Pamela were waiting for her.

“I can wholeheartedly say I have never wished to drink more than I did in that second,” YN mutters with a shake of her head as she stops in front of the two women, “And it’s not for the sake of I wanted a buzz, no it was for the fact that man had sixteen glasses of champagne ready and not a single glass of fucking water!”

“Okay,” Vivienne reached over and placed her hand on Vivienne’s free hand, as the other was currently lifting the glass of water to her lips, “I think the nerves are probably getting the better of us, and drinking is not the solution to that.”

“I’m not going to do it,” YN sighs, dropping the now empty glass back down on the bar, “Have more faith in me than that, it just crossed my mind, that’s all – for ease.”

YN doesn’t notice the partners share a look, one that they both know exactly what that means, and what they are to do. They knew wholeheartedly that this was just YN’s nerves talking, and the second that they got her distracted and sitting down it would all be okay.

“Did I tell you about the man who got in touch the other day?” Vivienne started, immediately realising that she was about to be chatting absolute shit to her friend, but it was better than to let Vivienne sit in a ball of her stress.

“No,” YN shakes her head, accepting another glass of water from the bartender, “What man?”

“Yeah… what man?” Pamela mutters, her entire face pursed with confusion. Vivienne kicks her slightly under the table, “Oh, yeah, that man! How about we walk and talk?”

Vivienne started to rattle on to her about a man who had come into her gallery and asked her question upon question without seeming to be interested in buying anything. It became obvious to YN further on in the conversation that the man wanted to ask Viv on a date, and she had to be the one to break the news that she was in a committed relationship. Even though Vivienne was rattling on, YN knew why she was doing so. It was to distract YN from the thoughts, and more so from the impending reunion that was on the horizon.

Vivienne rattled on until they got to their seats and continued even when they had sat down. It was funny to YN, that these two women would do anything for her, and she would do anything for them – and that included making a story that certainly wasn’t as interesting as they were making it seem so for YN’s sake.

YN was repeatedly kicking herself internally for the fact that every time her eyes darted around the room, there was one person that she was thinking specifically about. The thing that YN didn’t want to face was not being in control when she saw him again. She had learnt so much about how to control herself recently, and that would send her spiralling right back to a place that she didn’t want to be.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” YN spoke once there was a lilt in the conversation, “Don’t want to be needed a piss in the middle of the awards.”

“Okay,” Vivienne nodded, knowing that some time by herself might be what YN needs right now just to centre herself, “Do you need us to come with?”

“No,” YN offers her a smile, “I’ll only be a minute or two.”

When YN weaved her way through the corridors to the bathroom, it was made abundantly clear to her that her time in the bathroom would be spent sitting on a closed toilet rather than doing anything. After a few minutes, she left the cubicle to glance at herself in the mirror and make sure that her makeup and hair still looked okay.

Once she was happy with herself and felt calmer than she did it was the perfect time to make her way back to the awards and hope that it all went smoother.

Just as YN had turned out of the bathroom door, a smile on her face finally – it was made obvious straight away that it wasn’t to last long. That was because standing a few feet away from her was Harry. He was dressed to the nines in a full pinstripe suit, one hand resting in his pocket as he walked towards her.

YN froze completely, unable to move or breathe or simply function. It was a second or so later that Harry noticed her as well, and his movements came to a stop also. His face dropped, just as hers had. It was the first time in ten years that they had been face to face, the last time being the night of her final performance in L.A., when their relationship had ended completely. Even though it had been ten years, when Harry opened his mouth to speak to her, she felt as though she was right back in that moment and that all of the work she had didn’t matter anymore.

“Hi.”

L.A., 1975 – The last performance of YN’s tour

To say that YN was ready for this tour to finish was an understatement.

There was nothing she loved more than performing her songs for the people who loved them – but with everything that was going on behind the scenes, she just wanted to go home and be with Vivienne and Pamela.

Her band had been doing her fucking head in the entire time, not the girls, mainly the boys, but they were all at fault. It was her simple rules, and they seemed to just not understand the consequences of what happens when they break them. It was why for the first time in a while, YN walked into the green room with a certain skip in her step.

The band was lounged around, empty cans and packets of coke on every surface, but YN was past the point of caring. This was their last night together, and she was not embarrassed to say that she was excited to break that news to them.

“Last night,” YN sighed as she dropped down against the sofa, crossing one of her legs over the other (her cowboy boots sat comfortably on her feet), “I didn’t think we’d get here but we have.”

There was a slight chuckle in the room, and then there was a silence. It was a bittersweet moment. This tour had been one of the best and worst times of her life, and there were only so many words in the English language to explain that.

“I’m not one for many words, as you all know,” YN starts before she hears a snigger from one of the boys.

“Unless you’re fucking complaining about some shit.”

A laugh spreads through the room, and even YN is guilty of a smile spreading across her face.

“Normally complaining about you two just being fucking idiots,” She retorts with a smile, “That’s why I’m happy and relieved to say that this is our last show of this tour, and our last show together… because if I ever do this again, it isn’t going to be with any of you.”

For once, the room is silent, and YN feels a wave of accomplishment rush through her veins.

“Now, let’s go and put on the best fucking show of this tour.”

YN turned to walk out of the room, an ever-present smile still resting on her face. Despite what this show was, and what was consequently going to happen because of this – there was at least this positive for her to focus on. As YN prepared to go on stage, standing on the sidelines and hearing the screams and shouts of the people who were here to see her, she realised that nothing was going to ruin today.

“You ready, babes?” Vivienne smiles from behind her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

YN sighs but nods, “I am… is he here?”

Vivienne’s eyes never leave YN’s, but a wave of sadness washes over them, and she nods, “He’s in a green room with his band.”

YN nods. Since that night in Pittsburgh, there’s been no communication between herself, and Harry and she was glad about that. Everything had gone through management, and YN thought that was the best way to do it. It was strange to think that she would be seeing him in the flesh soon, and singing with him once again but it was probably for the best that she hadn’t thought about it at all.

“If you see him, tell him not to be shit,” YN says and Vivienne chuckles, reaching out to give YN’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t you worry,” Vivienne shakes her head, “If I see him, I’ll be saying a whole lot more to him.”

YN just rolls her eyes but is appreciative of her friend, and she knows that Vivienne knows that, too. When YN had first called Vivienne to explain what had happened, Vivienne was ready to jump on a flight and speak her mind to Harry. Once YN had gotten over her initial anger at the situation, Vivienne was there for her throughout the sadness, too. When she needed to cry, Vivienne was always there at the end of the phone to be there for her.

The two girls shared one last hug before it was time for YN to go on stage, to finish the tour that might have actually been the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she would be lying if she said that she hadn’t loved it as well.

Telling her band that she was firing them before the last show could have gone one of two ways. Fortunately for YN, it had gone a better way than many would have expected. They were good at what they did, and they all (she was including herself in this) played the best that they had the entire tour. There was an energy from the crowd that was palpable, and it seemed to be wearing off on the band as well as herself. It was a damn good show if she said so herself.

Just as she was coming to the last song on her set, she received a nod from the side of the stage saying that it was time. Time for her to welcome a guest on to stage, and to pretend in front of thousands of people that this man hadn’t just broke her heart.

Once the cheering has subsided, YN tucked her hair behind her ears and addressed the crowd, knowing it was better to do so like she was ripping a band-aid off rather than drawing it out.

“Now, it’s coming up to the point where we have to say goodnight,” YN smiles, hearing a mixture of cheers and boos from the crowd, “And before we do say goodnight, I thought… since it’s the last night of our tour, and you’ve been such an amazing crowd that I’d surprise you all… Now, this guest, he’s someone that’s very special to me. I haven’t seen him, or spoken to him in a while… but he has my heart, and he should always know that… Now, please put your hands together for Mr. Harry Styles!”

There’s a moment where YN doesn’t want to turn to look at Harry, in fact she just wants to ignore that he’s there all together – but she knows she can’t do that. Once she does turn to look at him, she’s shocked at what she sees. It still looks like him, the man that she loved with all of her heart, but he looks worn out, and tired and quite possibly heartbroken.

The band starts to play Cherry and all of a sudden she’s transported back to that night. Everything that happened, everything that he did, everything that she felt rushed back to her body, and flooded every one of her thoughts. It was difficult to keep her composure, and even more difficult not to turn and look at him, but she couldn’t. Not when she had a show to put on, and a tour to finish.

“Don’t you call him [me] baby/ We’re not talking lately.”

As the song was drawing to a close, YN realised that she had to look at Harry. Now that her initial anger and upset had passed, he needed to see how she felt. He needed to see how he had hurt her.

It wasn’t in YN’s plan to change the lyrics, but she couldn’t help herself. A song that Harry and herself had written all those years ago was now resonating in their life in a way that neither one of them could’ve expected.

“Don’t you call her what you used to call me.”

Harry stopped singing when he noticed what she had done, and even with thousands of people in the room it felt as though it was only the two of them, once more, just as it had been on that night. Instead of an anger running through her veins, YN felt sadness, a heaviness. She was grieving the man she knew and the life that she had envisioned for herself because in that moment she realised it was over… for good.

“Thank you all, you’ve been amazing!” YN snapped herself out of her trance and turned back to the crowd, “Thank you for having me, and I’m sure we’ll see you all soon!”

With once last smile and wave to the crowd, YN turned and walked off the stage, leaving her band and Harry standing there. She wasn’t necessarily proud of this action, but it was needed. It was her time to leave this tour, and these feelings in the past – and there was one more thing that she needed to do to ensure that.

“When Harry comes off, tell him to come to my dressing room,” She spoke to Jeff as she walked past him, offering him a small smile as she did.

“Of course.” He replied with a nod.

She paced in the room for a few seconds and then the door opened behind her. She turned, and he was there. It was strange, she had imagined what this conversation was going to be like so many times in her head and now that he was here, she couldn’t think of any of it. All she knew was that she needed to tell him how she felt.

“YN…”

“No,” YN shook her head, biting the side of her lip and resting her hands upon her hips, “I need you to listen to me… and I need you to listen carefully,” There was a slight pause where she had to compose herself from crying, “I love you, and I still love you and I probably always will… but, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t… you couldn’t see it from my perspective, and I don’t know if you ever will, but I know that for myself, I can’t wait and find out.”

“YN…” There were tears in his eyes.

There were now tears in hers, “I will never be able to get that image out of my head, and what you said… It hurt me. I love you and I want you to know that… but we’re over.”

A silence washes over them, as though both of them were coming to terms with what she was saying.

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know what else I can say but I love you.”

“I just saw him,” YN says the second she sits down with Pam and Viv.

Vivienne almost spits out her drink, and Pamela’s mouth drops open, “What do you mean?”

“He was there when I left the bathroom,” YN shook her head, “I just stared at him. I didn’t even say anything.”

“Did he say anything to you?” Vivienne asks and YN nods her head.

“He said ‘Hi’ and then I bolted back here,” YN places her head in the palm of her hands, “I knew that I was going to see him, but I thought it was at least going to be in this room, or when he gets on stage – not after I had a piss.”

Vivienne wraps her arm around YN, “The show’s about to start. Put it out of your mind. You’ve got a Grammy to win.”

That’s exactly what (with a little bit of inner strength) she did. The show started, and awards were given out, and the clock was ticking until it was her category. She kept herself looking cool, calm, and collected to anyone glancing at her, but inside, her heart was racing out of her chest.

“Your next babes,” Vivienne grabbed YN’s hand from the side of her, “Whatever happens, I just want to tell you that I love you and I’m so proud of you.”

YN’s eyebrows lifted, tears collecting in her waterline, “Stop it… or I’ll cry before it even starts.”

“Don’t you worry, babes…” Vivienne squeezed her hand tighter, “I’ll wipe your snot before you go on stage.”

YN rolled her eyes, and the girls shared a chuckle. It was then that the lights dimmed. A round of applause started, and the spotlight hit the stage. Harry was dressed in the same pinstripe suit as she had seen him a few hours before. He stood on the stage, his arms crossed in front of him and a smile on his lips. It wasn’t the smile that YN remembered in her dreams, the one where his dimples and his teeth lit up the world – but it was him.

“As a recipient of this award myself, I am honoured to announce this category today,” he said, cool, calm, and collected, “As much as I’m sure you would all love to hear me chat away, I think it’s probably better for everyone that we get to it. The nominees are…”

YN blanks out as the names are read, but when he speaks her name for the first time in years, she almost melts. It was strange that her body had such a visceral reaction to something that she hadn’t ever thought about before.

“And… the Grammy goes to…” Harry speaks, opening the envelope. It was then that a beaming smile crossed his face, “YN YLN!”

A gasp left her lips, a high-pitched buzz filling her ears. There was a part of her that didn’t believe it, but when she saw Vivienne’s teary-eyed face staring at her – she knew it was real. The girl, who was usually cool, calm and collected was sobbing so forcefully that YN was slightly scared for her.

“I told you, babes!” Once YN pushes herself up from her seat, Vivienne pounces on her in a hug, “I knew it was going to be you!”

“I…” YN shakes her head, her eyes brimming with tears.

“You need to go,” Vivienne places her hands on YN’s cheeks and nods, “Take Pam, and go. Get your fucking Grammy babes.”

YN nods and reaches for Pam’s hand, whose face looks the same as YN does. There was a flash of disbelief as well as pure shock on both the girl’s faces. YN squeezes Pam’s hand as tightly as she can, trying to centre herself as well as be there for the other woman as they walk towards the stage. It’s then that YN hears the clapping from the crowd, and it takes every ounce of strength she has not to burst out into tears.

Then she sees him.

He was standing at the front of the stage, the award clutched in his hand, but at that point, it was almost as though the award didn’t matter. The smile on his face was the one she saw in her dreams when she closed her eyes and thought back to that time of her life. When she doesn’t want to think of the heartbreak or the hardship, when she wants to think of the overwhelming love she felt and had in her body. That was the Harry that she saw standing there, the one who first asked her to come on stage and sing his song with him, the man who gave her everything.

If it wasn’t for Pamela pulling her up the stairs, she would’ve ceased moving altogether. Once she had come to a stop in front of him, he held the award out to her.

“Well done.”

“Thank you.”

That was all she could say before she was pushed in front of a microphone. Pamela tried to slip out of YN’s hand, but she pulled Pamela right to the side of her.

“I hadn’t expected this,” YN chuckles into the microphone, “So I’m sorry if I forget anyone or anything. I think… I want to thank my team, my band, and Pamela in particular, who stayed with me all of those nights when I couldn’t give up and had to finish even though everyone else had left… I want to thank everyone in my life who saw me at my lowest and pushed me to my best. Vivienne. I want to thank you for forever being my best friend, my sister, and my family. This is for you and for everything you’ve ever done for me… and, uh, Harry. I, uh, want to thank you for seeing something in me that night at your show and asking me on that stage… I wouldn’t be here without that. Thank you so much, I’ll keep this forever close to my heart.”

Even though he was standing right next to YN, she couldn’t look at him. When she had given her speech, some thought earlier on in the day, the thought of thanking Harry hadn’t even crossed her mind. Looking back, she assumed it was because she was too nervous to see him that thanking him in her speech hadn’t even crossed her mind. Once she had deemed that seeing him hadn’t been as bad as she expected it to be (minus the stress and also rehashing of memories that she had wanted nothing more than to forget), it was like her brain couldn’t stop the words from coming out of her mouth.

Music started playing around her, and she saw this as her cue to leave the stage. Grabbing Pamela’s hand, she pulled them off the side of the stage, where she guessed that she was going to have her photo taken.

Just as she started to make her way down the steps, she felt something tug the end of her dress, and she nearly went toppling forward down them. A hand grabbed onto her elbow, steadying her. She turned, and there he was, a concerned look on his face.

“Keep going,” He nodded, “It’s okay.”

Then she felt the skirt of her dress lift, and she didn’t have to worry anymore.

“If it was up to me, you would’ve won for your very first,” A man who YN knew as some studio executive was standing in front of her. There was a strong smell emanating from his person, and the empty glass in his hand, YN assumed it was whisky, “It’s the studio’s fault for not nominating you. I would’ve done that straight away. You would be on your fourth, even fifth nomination and win by now.”

“It wasn’t the studio’s fault,” YN offered him with a small smile, trying to be polite and not as though this was the fiftieth conversation she’d had like this since she arrived, “It was mine. I was in recovery. They couldn’t have nominated me even if they wanted to.”

“Oh,” He seemed surprised, “Anyway, if you ever do fancy a switch in studios, gimme a call.”

“I won’t,” YN offers another smile, “But thanks for the offer.”

YN turns, and spots Vivienne and Pamela coming back and drinks it hand. It happens every time they leave or every time they even turn their back on YN for a second. YN was so proud of herself for having won, but if this was what she was going to get from here on out, she was going to have to mentally prepare herself for such.

“Here is your water, winner,” Vivienne passed her the glass with a smile on her face, and YN rolled her eyes at the girl’s antics.

“Are you going to stop with that already?” YN accepted it and placed the chilled glass against her face, flushing from the heat in the room.

Vivienne shrugs, “I will… once the novelty has worn off.”

YN just rolls her eyes and shakes her head, “I’m going outside for a cigarette, it’s too hot in here.”

“Okay, winner,” YN shakes her head once more, seeing as though Pamela had decided to join in on her girlfriend’s antics as well.

“You’re a winner too, Pam, don’t forget that.”

YN placed a kiss on Pam and Viv’s cheeks before making her way towards the glass doors that opened to a balcony. They were at some fancy hotel that YN assumed she had been at before in her life but couldn’t remember either due to being high or so exhausted that she didn’t know where she was. Once she stepped outside, though, she realised that she had been here before, and it was on neither one of those occasions. It was after that tour had ended, the one where she had broken up with Harry. There had been a party to celebrate the end, and it was here. YN only remembered the view because instead of being inside celebrating, she had been out here, sitting watching the skyline pass by her.

YN pulled her cigarettes out of her bag, slipping one between her lips and lighting it. It seemed like a coincidence that she was here now after so much had changed. She stood, leant against the railing just as she had that night prior, and looked out at the skyline – this time a Grammy winner, but she would not say any less heartbroken.

“Congratulations,” YN didn’t jump at the sound of a voice behind her, but her eyes closed when she realised who it was, “I didn’t get to say that before.”

“You did,” YN mumbles, exhaling smoke as she did so, “On stage.”

He stops and leans against the railing next to her, taking his own cigarette out. She doesn’t turn to look at him but once she does she just nods her head.  

“What’s your plan now? Going to write another?” He asks, turning on his side slightly so that his body is facing hers.

YN just shrugged, turning her body so that she was facing him as well, “I don’t know. What about you?”

Harry sighs, nodding his head slightly, “I’m taking a break. Going back to London, going to spend some time with my family. Gem’s getting married in the summer, and I want to be there.”

“Pass on my congratulations to her,” YN nods, “A break sounds nice. I mean, it’s been ten years for me must be twelve, thirteen for you.”

“Thirteen,” He nods, running a hand over his face, “I need to slow down, I’m not getting any younger here.”

YN exhales a laugh, “We all know that’s the truth… and in hindsight, I don’t think a break is ever on the cards for me. As long as I’m breathing, I’ll probably be making music.”

YN had said it before, and she’d say it again – as long as she was making music that people enjoyed, she’d do it for as long as they let her.

“Speaking of music…” He looks away from her for a second and back out onto the skyline, “You didn’t have to thank me in your speech… I know it probably wasn’t the easiest thing you’ve ever done.”

YN just shakes her head, turning to look at him even though he wasn’t looking at her, “It was just the truth. I truly would not be here if it wasn’t for you. Without you pulling me on that stage that night, God I dread to think what my life would look like. I’d probably be in some unhappy marriage, with a husband who I hate and kids that hate me – just like my parents.”

Harry finally turned to look at her, “It was nothing.”

YN shakes her head once more, “It wasn’t.”

Harry clears his throat, “I know… I know I’ve done this before, and I know last time it didn’t go the way that I wanted it to, okay? But YN, I swear to you… I am so sorry about everything that happened. Looking back, you were right. I was enabling her, and not only that, but I was also hurting you in the process. I can never forgive myself for that… and I’d understand if you never forgave me as well.”

YN sighs, immediately feeling tears starting to well within her eyes, “It’s okay… it’s been too long now, it’s water under the bridge.”

As YN spoke, her voice cracked. She hadn’t realised that even though her mind knew what she wanted to say, her body betrayed her. She hadn’t realised what was building within her as he spoke, even more so when she did.

When she turned to him, there were tears in his eyes just as they were in hers. Standing here, with him after all of those years – no matter how much he had hurt her, there was a part of her that still loved him. She loved him, the life he gave her, the memories they had – the way he made her feel. She tried not to go back to that chapter of her life if she could help it, to stop the pain from resurfacing, but oftentimes, it was the memories of love that she welcomed the most.

Harry dropped his cigarette down on the floor, squashing it with his heel so that it was out. YN turned to him once more, watching as a tear slipped down his face. He immediately reached up and wiped it off his cheek.

“Listen, YN, if you ever do fancy that break London’s just a plane ride away,” He turned as though he was going to walk away, but then he stopped and turned back around, “And I’m always just a phone call away.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

[harleehazbinfics]

I like to think that with the cannibal chef overlord spin off that Chef has a 5 star restaurant and it’s Hell’s Kitchen (love that show) and when she’s not with Alastor or the others she’s kinda like Gordon with her employees (btw the souls she owns) idk I think that would be so funny!

Like Alastor sees her working and yelling at everyone and he just has heart eyes 😍

A moment in Hell's Greatest Kitchen [Cannibal Chef!Reader Spin-off]

a/n: ngl, i loved writing this. thank you for the ask!

Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile

"YOU FUCKING IDIOTS! CAN'T YOU PREPARE A SIMPLE MEAL?"

I flinch at the sound as I almost cut my finger from chopping the vegetables. I peeked out of lashes to see my boss cussing out my co-workers while they cooked sweating profusely from the heat and the insults being thrown at them.

"EVERYONE CLEAN YOUR STATIONS! IT LOOKS LIKE A GODDAMN PIGSTY HERE. I'M RUNNING A RESTAURANT, NOT SOME ESTABLISHMENT WHERE YOU BRAIN DEAD LITTLE PIGGIES CAN SHIT IN."

I immediately threw my peels in the bin and wiped the counter then placing my knives back to their drawer.

This was my boss. Hell's largest Cannibal Overlord, (y/n). Aside being a household name in hell to be wary of, she was also a well-respected chef. I idolized her even before we died. I lived during her era and even got the opportunity to work in her restaurant when we were alive. It was tough to get in and work with her, but it was tougher to stay there. Thankfully, luck was on my side to work with her for 6 years before her death.

She was as mean as she was before, however, I do get jumpy at loud noises. She was tough on us, prioritizing the customer's satisfaction and cleanliness around the

Even after she was outed as a cannibal and was executed I devoted myself to her and followed after her. Which led me here.

"You! Daniel! Pick up the pace! Table's 5 and 10 are done with their appetizers," she yells at me making me flinch and nod.

"Yes, chef!" I replied making her give me a nod of acknowledgement. i blush while doing my duties as I replay her calling my name in my head. 'She remembers me!' I scream giggling in my head.

"Pardon me. I apologize for getting in your way," the tall red deer demon apologizes after bumping into me, I nod dismissing it and stirred the pot I already seasoned.

He gives me a tight-lipped smile and walks forward to a corner to avoid getting in our way. He stares at Chef (y/n) with adoring eyes and a large smile as she pinched a sinner by the ear and twisting it then screaming on it. Which the red hair only gives out a dreamy sigh.

That was Alastor, the Radio Demon. He and my boss had a very special relationship, it's quite intimate from what I've seen. From what I heard, Alastor approached Chef (y/n) and submitted his soul to her, and from then on, they were inseparable. Chef had a soft side when it came to him, she'd latch on to him and lean on him even often baby talking to him. It had us all stunned when she first introduced Alastor to us, her change in demeanor was very telling she liked him a lot.

So, whenever we were in a pinch.

"Uh! Chef! Sir Alastor is here!" another sinner tells her, in an attempt to save our co-worker.

You then turn to the direction they pointed and skipped towards the deer, "Alastor, honey!" she greets before giving him a kiss.

The sinners in the back on their knees thanking the Radio Demon for saving their asses.

"Good morning, madam," he greets holding onto her waist, "A lively morning, isn't it?"

"It's better now with you around," (y/n) coos as she snuggles deeper into his embrace.

And this is how every morning in Hell's Kitchen. Gore, Food and Love.

🔗Cannibal Chef! Reader Taglist:

@bonnie-02 @marxo5 @whaatttlaufey @froggybich @rybunnie @midorichoco @lucifers-silhouette @kimmis-stuff @bontensbabygirl @janey @akiqvq @wonderlandangelsposts @spoiled-slutt @roboticsuccubus83 @atlas-rin @yuriohoe04 @azullynxx @milk-bulb @hahalame @aria-tempest @speedycoffeedelight @0strawberrysorbet0 @amitiel-truth @corvid007 @kaminarithebest @enby-goblin @whydosnakesnotdance @wtvbabes @willow404 @psychoanalyze0 @sweetadonisbutbetter @manachpo @dionysusismypatrongod @obessivlyonline

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

Just gotta ask this cuz we are at this time of the year - how did post carcosa Rust and Marty spend their Christmas together?

[cracks knuckles]

[googles "is american christmas mostly the 24th or 25th"]

[decides it's irrelevant]

[christmas is when YOU think christmas is. there. solved!]

Okay, so, the FIRST Christmas, the very first Christmas, they are just two dudes, living together, following each other around like puppies, very normal, super normal, you guys.

-Rust is caught by surprise. Totally fucking by surprise. It's not like he doesn't know what time of year it is, and it's not like there weren't signs--candy cane flavored coffee creamer in the home fridge (which he doesn't drink), eggnog flavor creamer in the work fridge (he doesn't drink this, either), firm Christmas cards for important clients and connections that Marty says he has to sign before they go in the mail, seasonal gewgaws collecting on his desk that he ignores, the saddest little tabletop Christmas tree back at the house, which is hogging important real estate, placed on the counter where Rust usually throws his wallet and keys when he comes in, Christmas songs playing everywhere, Marty wearing a fucking Santa hat. Lights in the neighborhood. Lights on the house he lives in, even.

-When did Marty even have time to put those up?

-So yes, there were signs. Rust just didn't think these signs had anything to do with him, personally. His involvement in these rituals, however involuntary, does not occur to him as a possibility. He merely exists here, and the rituals happen around him.

-Rust is also very aware that after December comes January. He's not sure how he's going to feel about it, how much he can remember, really remember, the warm and welcoming dark. Epiphanies are notoriously hard to hold, shaky to build on. But all the same--nothing's really the same--he's feeling slightly less dread than usual and slightly more doubt. Feeling uncertain about a lot of things he previously felt dead certain about.

-Marty is still riding the benefits of their post Carcosa hero status and he's not too proud to accept the Christmas dinner invite that might be mainly motivated by pity. It's the girls at Maggie's new husband's place, Ted's place which is actually, right, Ted and Maggie's place, which is not ideal, but it's just dinner, so that's fine, right?

-He brings Rust. This not a matter of debate. Marty's just like, hey, we're going, and Rust is like, yeah? And Marty's like, yeah, c'mon. And so Rust goes. Fuck it. Nothing makes sense any more. Life is a dream. Sure, he'll pass the mashed potatoes.

-Audrey and Macie are not surprised. This is, if anything, more normal than prior holiday dinners. This is our mom and her new husband and that's our dad and his not new guy he brings everywhere. yeah we had a bunch of dinners with him when we were kids, he was, like, a household staple. Usually skipped Christmas but whatever, basically the same.

-Audrey's boyfriend is also there. He also knows who Rust is and is not surprised.

-Maggie, who was only aware that Marty was bringing someone, is not exactly surprised. Not exactly not surprised. Long suffering held in sigh. Marty is still on his post hospitalization health kick and Rust is dragged in his wake so they're not having any wine but Maggie? Maggie is. And she's being subjected to this after she made the special mashed potatoes, too.

-Ted gets to be the only person who's really surprised. (in private, later) he's like. oh. oh hahah. THAT. that's Rust? THE Rust?

-like of course he knows who Rust is and has some vague sense of Rust as tragic hero cop and Rust as marriage ender/divorce heralding symptom, Maggie is honest with him, he's pretty sure, but he's never had the singular pleasure of actually meeting Rust, feeling silently judged by Rust. Rust, sitting in their very nice dining room, eyes that give away nothing and everybody loves looking at him a little too long. Rust, who leans out of the way, ever so slightly, whenever Maggie passes by, so subtle that Ted only catches it because he's watching Maggie so closely. Rust, who looks at Marty whenever Marty laughs. Ted understands that his value proposition vs. Marty is not actually the money as much as it is how Maggie expects him to be a calm and actually steady guy, so he doesn't say much but this is not his easiest Christmas ever.

-Marty is having a GREAT time! all the people on the planet he has deep feelings for are here! and then also Ted, but Marty doesn't even care. Everyone is doing their best to be jovial and polite. Rust hasn't mentioned the heat death of the universe or anything. There are Christmas-y scented candles going and a feast. Maggie made the special potatoes. Marty is THRIVING.

-Rust is still in the ponytail and cowboy mustache. The girls tease him about the hair--in that playful way that means they love it--and Macie gives him a Christmas-y scrunchie out of her own hair. It's red and has bells on. Rust is a good sport about this.

-Marty thinks about cats and how you put bells on them to give other things a fighting chance. Rust is so still and moves so smooth that nobody hears the slightest jingle.

-Audrey is the person Marty consulted re: Rust gift getting. He snaps some pictures of one of Rust's old ledgers--Marty very carefully does not actually open it, will not be caught snooping via the simple strategy of not snooping--and sends them to her, figuring if anyone can help him with an ID, it's her. Will she help him? He's not sure.

-He is also hoping to appeal to her as expert, to defer to her judgement, and, shit, he doesn't know, convey that he respects her as a person? Or something? He's not entirely clear on what he's trying to do but he is trying. He is trying so hard.

-Audrey informs him that it's either a Moleskine Classic XXL or a Leuchtturm 1917 Master, make sure you don't buy one with lined or dot grid pages on accident, and either way, Rust's taste in pens is stupid and Marty should get him better pens.

-And Marty's like, I can't, he specifically judges the shit out of everyone with fancy pens.

-And Audrey's like, at least get him some fine liners or something. You can't just get him one notebook that's the notebook he already uses. That's like getting him a pair of socks.

-"What's wrong with socks?"

-Just get him some fineliners, dad.

-what's a fineliner

-etc etc

-Marty buys the Leuchtturm because it is slightly more expensive and it sounds more European, therefore more snobby

-gift exchange at the dinner is actually specifically banned for some reason Marty is not privy to. There are muttered references to The Incident That One Year.

-which is why Rust still has no fucking clue he's getting a Christmas present

-They get back home (Rust has only recently caved and starting thinking of it as home in his own head) and Marty is fulfilled but also a little bit pettily gleeful. Did you SEE the look on Ted's face when you walked in behind me?

-And inwardly Rust is like, alright, mystery solved. I was weaponized against the new husband. That's my role and that's why I was there. I understand now.

-Not the worst way the Hart household has weaponized him by far so it's fine. and if Marty specifically wants to wield him as a weapon of any kind, that's--that might be a little more than fine, maybe.

-So he's caught completely unawares when Marty is like, hey, so, I got you something

-And Rust is like, is it chlamydia, because he's not caught on that they're being serious now and he's busy wondering if by next year Marty (known slut) will have a new woman to antagonize Ted with, instead

-and Marty is like. no. and lucky for you I anticipate your shitty attitude by default so it no longer plagues me. it ain't much, but here you go. you're a bitch to buy for, by the way. nonattachment to physical objects and shit. can't buy you a shot of philosophy at the mall.

-and he hands Rust a big rectangular object that is wrapped in cheerfully green and red leaf and berry print. The wrapping job is absolute shit. There's so much excess tape. Marty did it himself.

-So Rust is standing in the middle of their living room, clutching a familiar shaped object to his chest, feeling gangly and stupid because he did not plan for this turn of events even though, in retrospect, Marty is a holiday kind of guy, so this ain't a fucking mystery and so maybe Rust should have figured better, but. He didn't. The idea that he is part of all this is so foreign.

-"Got you fuck all," he says, instead of anything else.

-Especially instead of: I would give you everything. Everything. If you asked.

-Instead of: I wish I knew, so you didn't have to ask.

-"Sorry," Rust adds, which he feels is already too effusive.

-"I don't give a shit," Marty says. And then, impatient: "you're supposed to open it, Rust."

-Christ. Must he.

-Maybe if Rust tries really hard he can just die here, on the spot, for medically mysterious reasons.

-He does not, so he rips off the wrapping paper, messy 'cause it's already messy and he doesn't want to look like he's being too precious about this.

-Why did Marty have to do this to him.

-Doesn't Marty understand that he doesn't need to give Rust anything, that he's already given, is giving, Rust too much, that Rust already doesn't know how to repay this, any of it?

-Doesn't Marty understand that Rust doesn't know what the fuck Marty expects from him

-Doesn't Marty know that Rust didn't plan this far because Rust planned on being dead

-Marty does know this. And Rust knows Marty knows this. So whatever they got going on, or don't got going on, as it were, is built upon that knowing. And maybe hopefully also built on some other shit so it's not all muffled suicidal ideation and no sense of what comes next.

-So Rust dutifully opens his gift and stands in their shared living room and holds what is, in fact, an extremely familiar object in his hands.

-Which is nice, actually. Solid. Familiar is good, sometimes. This is an object he knows and can count on.

-Given to him by a man he knows and can (mostly) count on.

-He's spent lots of time with both these things (large blank page notebook with elastic closure. and Marty). Countless hours.

-Fuck. That's kind of nice.

-"Is it the right one?" Marty asks, maybe sounds the tiniest bit anxious. "I know you probably got a crate of the things somewhere--"

-"No," Rust says. "I don't." He slides the elastic open, flips through the pages. Desperately wants a cigarette because his hands need more to do.

-"Okay, but is it the right one," Marty says.

-yes yes yes yes fuck fucking christ yes it is. yes you are.

-"Nope."

-"Oh."

-"It's nicer than the one I usually get." Rust pauses. "Thicker paper."

-"Oh," Marty says again, but he sounds pleased. "Good."

-"Marty--" Rust tries.

-"And I got you some pens." Out of fuck knows where, Marty produces a dozen pens and drops them on top of the notebook Rust is still holding. They scatter. Some fall to the floor.

-Rust doesn't know what to do with any of this.

-Racks his brain for a social script he's observed somewhere, if never used, personally.

-He's still just fucking standing there in the living room. Fuck.

-Something. Something. There's got to be fucking something to say here, some gesture to offer.

-Some more pens fall to the floor.

-Grope blindly. Spin the wheel. Shoot into the fucking dark.

-"Wanna watch Die Hard?" Rust asks, because this is the only strategy that occurs to him.

-"Oh, fuck yeah," Marty says.

-They watch Die Hard.

-They watch like half of Die Hard, actually, because they doze off on the couch grandpa style.

-Rust startles awake while the credits are rolling and Marty's head is on his shoulder and Marty's still asleep and they need to move or they're gonna feel this in their necks tomorrow.

-Rust does not wake Marty up and they do not move. He loosens his hair, settles back. Closes his eyes, sighs like an old dog.

-The next morning, Marty's neck is sore. He complains. He drinks the last of the candy cane creamer directly from the bottle. He regrets absolutely nothing. 10/10. GREAT Christmas. Would Christmas again. Is already making plans for next year now that he managed to get Rust one (1) present and he didn't bolt.

-Rust will spend the WHOLE ENTIRE YEAR trying to figure out what the fuck to get Marty for Christmas.

-The fine liners are pretty cool, actually.

[eastwindmlk]

For day 4 of @jilytoberfest I will add to the McGonagall as James' godmother agenda.

939 words under the cut.

You are cordially invited to the wedding of James F Potter and Lily J Evans.

Minerva looked at the silvery stag and doe that pranced along the invitation that she had placed on her desk after breakfast, the attached letter still sealed and waiting. The transfiguration professor was well aware of what opening that letter would do to her sentimental Scottish self.

She had watched these two grow together and had been a driving force behind them being appointed Head boy and girl. If anyone asked, and no one would, she prided herself on having helped kindle their relationship. Offered a guiding hand and subtle encouragement wherever she could. Especially when James would come to her for advice that he pretended was absolutely not about Miss Evans, even when it very clearly was.

As a teacher, Minerva knew not to meddle, but as a godmother, she had a duty to her godson and that was to meddle on behalf of his parents. Though she never offered anything but sound advice.

Perhaps she also convinced Horace to pair them up in potions, but that was neither here nor there.

Despite her best effort not to think about the letter, her students figured out altogether too easily that she was in a particularly good mood. She had to snip at the questions about the good news to get the room back in order.

The longer the day stretched, the more distracted she found herself becoming. During dinner she almost stabbed Alma with her fork as they both reached for the roast carrots and on her way to her room she nearly missed a trick step and stumbled, scraping her knee.

In the light of the candle at her bedside and shifted into the familiar mattress, her fingers feeling the fine parchment she’d learned to associate with the Potter household.

My dearest, godmother,

Minerva would never tire of this little quirk in James’ letters, this little wink that he never failed to open with. She knew he was well aware of the implication, the affection this little gesture and she couldn’t help but feel special in this knowledge.

Enclosed you will find the invitation I am certain you have been eagerly awaiting after the news of our engagement. I also know that you likely do not approve of the length, or lack thereof, of our engagement. I want to assure you that we are being sensible.

We are also young and in love, so please be a little forgiving.

For a moment Minerva considered if she really could be disapproving of this union. She knew it was inevitable and given the times they lived in, she could hardly blame them to cling onto every opportunity to celebrate love and light.

You have always been a guiding hand in my life and I know that Lily feels similarly about you and it would mean the world to us if you would attend.

It is on behalf of my future wife that I now write to you.

She couldn’t help but chuckle at just how eager James seemed to be to call her his wife, there was something incredibly endearing about it. She did wonder what she needed if James was the one asking. Curiosity prickled her into reading further, leaving her theorising for after, if she still needed to.

As you might recall from previous mentions, the relationship with her family has been strained for quite some time now and when I confided my worries with you before even I was not aware of the extent of this. However, it looks like only her father will be willing and able to attend the wedding. I’d hoped that you might be willing to help.

Her heart broke when she read this, the words blurring as her eyes watered. She had only been vaguely aware of the situation while they were still attending school. Minerva knew that some muggleborn families took the news harder and it often reflected in these students finding her office in times of need. She could tell from the questions they asked and how they often oscillated before the brave dared to hug her.

Lily Evans had never been that girl. Or so she thought.

Even if Miss Evans had not been one of her favourite recent graduates, not that she had any, she would have still said yes.

If that is not too much of an imposition I would… It would be a weight off my shoulders. Watching her be turned down by her mother and sister was painful to witness and I am not proud of the things I wanted to tell them. I am even less proud of the fact that I bit my tongue.

It is with a heavy heart and a whole lot of frustration that I admit that I do not know how to make this better.

Minerva could see the spots where his quill nearly punctured the parchment and let her fingers glide over the indents like she could feel the remnants of his frustration still lingering in the words. It was then that she decided that the answer to this letter could not wait until morning. She could barely wait to read the final lines before letting them know.

She dragged her eyes back to the page, fingers twitching impatiently.

Even if you cannot, I know you have some sound advice for me. Should we discuss this over tea? Mother’s honeybees have been rather busy and Lily makes this amazing honey cake. Perhaps I can bribe you with a slice? Or a whole tray if need be?

Ever your devoted godson,

James Potter

[suikung]

Hello!

My request is:

Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha deflowering their new Concubine together. She is young, pretty and precious for the clan leader and his wife. Truly a status symbol.

It was such a high honor for your family. You came from the lower branches of the Uchiha clan with only two options to rise up. Marry into a higher branch family or become a concubine for them. Being the only daughter, your family prioritized training you for a future life as a concubine. Love was not a certain thing but a position in this job would be. Your life up until today, your 18th birthday, was spent how to take for a home. But most importantly how to care for the husband and wife that’d select you, in more ways than another.

You were now 18 which meant your training was over and soon you’d join a new family. To your fortune you were a high valued concubine, almost from birth you were trained for this and that made you highly desirable. One of the few concubines directly praised by an Uchiha elder. Meaning, whoever was fortunate enough to pay such a price would be directly receiving an honor from the elders.

It was now time for goodbyes, it was almost noon which meant your new family would arrive soon. It was a bit hard since they were your birth family but you had spent most of your time in training. Soon, there was a knock outside the door. Anticipation weighed heavy as your father opened the door only to see Fugaku and Mikoto Uchiha on the other side. Appearing next to your father, you bowed. “Hello, it’s nice to meet you both. I’m looking forward to being with you”. A smile gracing both their faces. They were lucky, fighting tough and nail to get you and now here you are infront of them. Such a beauty would bring them great status and recognition within the clan.

Soon you were on the way with them. Arriving in a part of the Uchiha compound where higher branch officials lived. It was quite nerving, only having been here a handful of times it made you feel out of place. A hand coming to rest on your shoulder, Mikoto. “Don’t be nervous. This is your new life, your new home. You belong here now with us.” She was so tender, her face so loving and warm. You couldn’t help to smile back at her. Continuing forward as she lowered her hand down your back as they guided you home.

Once within their home, you were readily introduced to their two sons. Itachi and Sasuke Uchiha. The boys were sweet, Sasuke more shy than his older brother, but you just hoped the boys would get used to your presence soon. After introductions, the couple showed you to your room to get settled down. They didn’t expect you to do any household duties yet, first they had a special plan to initiate you into their family.

The sun was now setting, spending most your time with the boys. Supervising them on a trip to a nearby forest, it was quite nice Sasuke had asked you to play hide and seek with him. A knock at the door caught your attention, disrupting your remembrance of that evening. Slowly rising up, to greet who ever it was. Mikoto, and she held a plate of tea in her hands. Quickly you went to retreat it from her, bringing it to the chabudai in the center of your room. “Please if your request for tea arises ma’am let me know I can make it for you.” Bowing quickly for bringing it to you. She only swatted off your statement.

“You can call me Mikoto dear. I just wanted to come have some tea and get to know you better.” You both now sat opposite of each other, pouring her a cup. “My husband should be here soon, so please pour an extra cup.” And on cue the tatami of your room opened to reveal Fugaku. He set to the left of his wife. “Good evening, I see my wife has already joined you. She was quite excited when she knew you were to join us.” Mikoto laughed in embarrassment, “Oh don’t say that dear! But he’s right, we’ve had our eye on you since the day you received the elder’s praise.” It was now your turn to laugh in embarrassment.

The three of you continued to enjoy tea as they filled you in on how their household usually runs in a normal day. Slowly they had both gotten closer to you. Mikoto’s hand now resting on your shoulder as it did on the way here. “We want you to feel a part of this marriage. So we shall do as a married does on a wedding night.” Fugaku spoke up, his cup now empty as his eyes stared into yours looking for any sign of resistance. You simply nodded, this was not something you didn’t expect but instead prepared.

Mikoto worked steadily on undoing your obi sash, while Fugaku took your face into his hand. Slowly he began to kiss you, his tongue intruding into your mouth. You allowed him to explore the inside, until he pulled back. Your tongues now dancing around each other. Mikoto had successfully undone your obi, slowly she brought down the shoulder of your kimono. Starting with kissing your collar bones and making her way up to your neck. A soft moan left you as she suckled on your soft spot. The three of you stayed like this for a few more minutes until Fugaku and Mikoto switched positions. Fugaku now on your neck and Mikoto kissing you. Fugaku’s hands roamed further down your kimono, opening up the front. With this new access, he made his way down to your breasts. Arching your back at this new found pleasure from him, Mikoto took it as entrance into your mouth with her tongue. You both continued fighting with your tongues until she pulled away.

They both detached themselves from you, Fugaku offering his hand to bring you up, Mikoto from behind pulling off your kimono. You now stand naked infront of them, they were now able to take in now your full beauty. “Such a prize to this family, you’ll bring great honor”. Fugaku spoke almost as if he was admiring ancient art, now unclothing himself after you. From behind clothes ruffled signaling Mikoto was undressing as well.

You kneeled beneath him, grabbing his half hardened cock with one hand. Sliding your hand over his tip, earning a groan from above. Mikoto moving to kiss her husband. Your lips gradually replaced your hand on his tip, tongue settling on the underside of his cock. To start, you went slowly, hand pumping up and down stopping just below his head. Your mouth focused on his tip, swirling your tongue around, and hollowing out your cheeks to amplify his pleasure. His hand coming down to hold your head, offering a guiding push down his cock, and you obliged. Taking in as much as you could before gagging. Your pace quickened, his grip in your hair tightening you could tell he was close. Using his grip on your hair, he pulled back. “Not yet dear. Let’s save that for later.”

Waiting on their guidance on what to do next, Mikoto came down infront of you. Spreading her legs as she lied on her elbows to balance herself, quickly moving down to level with her pussy. Your breath grazing over her clit, kitten licking her. From behind Fugaku positioned your ass up to eat you out . You both started slowly, the vibrations of your moans from Fugaku rumbles through Mikoto, earning a sweet sound from her. Your mouth moves down to her entrance, poking it with your tongue, your index and middle working steadily at her clit. Her thighs begin to shake as you quicken your fingers to match Fugaku’s pace on your pussy. Quickly you switch the position of your finger and tongue, two fingers now inside of Mikoto and your tongue continuing on her clit. Together you both reach your orgasms, her thighs closing around your head.

It took a few moments for you all to catch a breath. But by the end, you had all moved to your futon and off the tatami mats. Fugaku motioned for you to lay down infront of him, Mikoto would take her spot to the right of you. “Relax, and open your legs for me.” He spoke. Slowly he lined himself up, as Mikoto lowered down to continue kissing you. It was a piercing pain, your hymen ripping open at his entrance. Whining into Mikoto’s lips was the only thing you could do, your legs instinctively closing around Fugaku from the pain. He stopped, allowing a moment for the pain to subdue. “Sh sh it’s okay” Mikoto caressing your head, “We’re gonna take care of you, just relax your body.” At her words, your legs opened again, releasing the hold they had around Fugaku.

Within a couple of minutes he had fully sheathed himself inside of you. Tears escaped your eyes from the new found pain, Mikoto wiping them away for you. He began to move, it almost felt as if a puzzle piece had been connected. It felt fulfilling to be able to give yourself to them untouched. His hips snapped quicker as Mikoto’s hands came down to play with your breast. Moans could now be heard coming from Fugaku and you. Your legs now wrapping around his waist, bringing him in closer to you. “Awe come on don’t forget about me my dear.” Mikoto whined, feeling left behind. To include her you brought her in for more kisses. Her assault on your mouth continuing with her tongue, feeling every moan and groan from you.

Fugaku’s orgasm from before steadily began resurfacing. He sped up, hands on your waist. Your cries only became louder, Mikoto had left your lips, focusing solely on your nipples. Pleasure from different points only brought out a knot in your stomach, and for the second time tonight you’d cum. His hips bucked faster, then they faulted. His white seed spilling inside of you, rhythmic thrusts no more. He groaned, collapsing onto your chest. Mikoto laying on her side next to you. In unison they both spoke, “Welcome home.”

—————————————————————————

A/n this one def stomped me, but I hope it’s good 🤔

[belladonnadawn]

Silver Springs

“I know I could have loved you if you would just let me.”

Alex x Reader

After your ex’s infidelity, you swore that you’d never let your heart be discarded once again. Then came Alex. He was sweet, charming, and passionate. His charm seems to skyrocket once you find out about his skill at photography. How he captured images and changed its perspective truly enticed you; and soon he captured your heart too.

You were guarded– scared. That feeling of fear was valid after what happened in your last relationship. But Alex was understanding, he told you how it happened to him too and your heart broke with his. Nevertheless, your relationship blossomed from there. Slowly let your guard down, with a hope that maybe this time it was worth it.

Everything was smooth sailing, you sometimes wonder if you got lucky or blessed. Either way, you’re sure that what you had was meant to last. And it did, for four amazing years. You knew what you and Alex had was special. 

HIs success was inevitable. You believed since then that he was bound to go big, making his own name in the industry. It meant more gigs, more work, and less time with you. You understood since you were building your career path as him.

But these past few days a new name became familiar in your household: Natalie. All you know from his accounts was that she's a good colleague: efficient, passionate, and pretty. You knew her position and understood her significance in his career, but to see that Alex has someone to bond with the same passion together… it did bother you. You tried to swallow the jealousy bubbling up inside you, blaming it on lack of affection and distance from each other’ but it never went away.

Then came the doubts, the suspicions, and finally the argument.

There's not a day where the argument never replayed in your mind. You pointed fingers at yourself, wishing you were quieter and more understanding. You’d stare at him, wishing he was assuring and empathetic. But you know that no one wins in the blame game, so you try to move forward. After four years, there’s no storm that you and Alex haven’t weathered… right?

Tension filled the night air as you and Alex faced each other again. After the argument, you expected reconciliation– after all, there’s a calm after a storm. But you were wrong. Alex revealed that a new life was welcoming him, a life in New York filled with new opportunities and experience. You were beyond happy for him, especially when you watched his journey for years. But that happiness didn’t stay long as he revealed that it was best for you and him to part ways.

“With the right person, I think I’d be able to do it.” Alex took a deep sigh, head hung low. The statement made you flinch, heart falling to your stomach. After dissociating for how long, it brings you back to the situation as if it’s rubbing it in the wound, mocking you. 

“Do you hear yourself?” He looks up at you, meeting your gaze. You look at him in disbelief, not recognizing the man you love. 

Both of you sat in silence, the air was thick with things left unsaid. You felt your heart beating out of your chest. You never thought that you’ll reach this point in your relationship. 

“We had just one argument, one disagreement; and now you’re casting me away for New York? After four years?” You tried to hide the hate in your words, but after being placed in such a predicament, you know you can’t. 

Alex stood up, trying to make his point across. “It’s not just that, you have no idea how complicated our relationship would be, especially after you accused me!”

“Are you really breaking up with me because of my accusations or you're breaking up with me so you can enjoy your new life in New York?” You stood your ground, wanting to awaken some senses to him.

Alex only sighed, looking away from you. “You don’t understand.”

“I know I don’t.” You spoke, words laced with contempt and sorrow. Your heart shattered; you didn't know that this is how it ends. You could see your picture perfect future shattered in front of you.

“Did you even imagine a future or a life with me?” With a heavy heart, you looked at him for answers.

‘Did you even consider me as the right person?’ 

You bit your tongue, holding back the question. At the state of your relationship, you already knew the answer. It was tragic that it must come to an end. You love him, but you know that love is not enough foundation in a relationship.

“I think I need to get some air.” You grabbed your belongings, praying that the tears you’ve been holding back won’t burst out in front of him. Your relationship flashed in your eyes, a bittersweet feeling engulfs your heart.

You could fight and beg for him, but that would seem desperate– and love isn’t built out of desperation. You could scream how much you deserve better, but only the ones who truly love you will be willing to listen. So you just decided to take a walk to clear your mind. The night was quiet, a contrast to the tumultuous emotions that continued to fill you. Your gaze fell on the stars, with a silent wish that the pain that you carry would hurt less. Holding your heart, you let yourself love for the last time.

“Good luck, Alex. I wish you well in New York.”

Note: Hello, everyone! Thought I might post an Alex fic before taking a break. Been visiting the doctor these past few days, and let's just say I'm still under observation. I'll be okay (Maybe a Kayson audio would revive me, I miss him so much), and I promise to come back with more bangers. Might lurk from time to time tho hehe. That's all, thank youuu!

Pattern banner from Cafekitsune.

[blakeswritingimagines]

Yandere Aemond, Who Accidentally Gets Your Sister Instead

"Y/n should have been mine. She was destined to be mine. I had envisioned a perfect future together, one where we flew atop our dragons and ruled the world. But that was all taken away from me. All of it, gone. Now all I have are her sister. A replacement. Second pick. A consolation prize. How dare she do this to me. She dares to bring a weaker version of herself into my life and expect me to be happy. What was she thinking? I must get rid of her."

If/when he were to be with you he would make sure that you know exactly what your place is. He would make sure that you know that he is the man of the house and that you are only what he deems you to be. You'll serve him regardless of whatever he asks or how highborn you are, and that is the way it must be. He is the master of the household, and you must obey and follow. If he has something that he wants, you must provide it to him.

If all else fails, he would consider kidnapping you in order to force you to spend your time with him. After all, the obsession would be so strong, that he could not see any other option than that. This is only one scenario however.

If he were to have you replaced by your sister he would be very upset. In fact, he would likely act aggressively. This could range from merely ignoring the sister, to trying to hurt her physically. He might even try to eliminate the competition.

He does believe he loves you and he can be quite possessive of you, especially when he sees you talking to other boys. He's always afraid that you might give them more attention than you give to him. He has to remind himself that he is your one and only love, but when the jealousy gets to him, he can get to be a little bit unhinged and obsessed. It’s not something he's proud of, but it’s part of what makes him, him.

Because he has a very short temper and a habit of lashing out when he's angry. He can be very intimidating, and he doesn't like to be crossed. So if you ever do something to piss him off, well, let's just say you better be prepared to face the consequences.

I suppose he would be rather possessive and obsessive. He doesn’t take no for an answer and his love won’t allow him to accept an alternative like your sister. He would be quite persistent and would not give up until he got his way. His pride and his honor wouldn’t allow him to settle for seconds. If he couldn’t have the object of his affection then he would take no one else, and he would go to great length and lengths to ensure that. Perhaps he would even resort to drastic measures in the heat of the moment and in his passion.

If the sister continues to interfere, he might try and drive a wedge between his beloved and your sister. He might even resort to more violent methods to ensure you stay away from each other. It would have to be kept in secret, of course. He would not want you to be suspicious. He would also be sure to make you believe that you are his one and only.

Well, since your sister has arrived it would mean that you are no longer a special focus of his attention. He would likely begin to see this as an attack on him, on your "relationship", and on the way things were meant to be. His behavior might become more and more erratic. He would likely try to get you back by whatever means necessary.

If he wished to capture your attention "again", he would likely resort to more direct, but also more subtle, methods. By this, I mean he would do his best to impress you with his talents, and also try to engage you in some of your favorite activities. He would also do his best to look his best for you, since a good appearance can go a long way in catching someone’s attention. However, he would also be sure to be mysterious and elusive when needed.

It would be most vexing. If the sister continued to attempt to get his attention he would make it clear to her in no uncertain terms that he has no interest in her. He would likely ignore her as much as possible and make sure to give you more attention than ever. He would also try to keep them as far apart from each other as he possibly could. That way, your sister would hopefully learn her place.

If your sister kept trying to be with him, he would likely try to reject her at first. Hopefully, this would give you the opportunity to see what he is to you. But if this fails, he would have no choice but to eliminate the competition. It would be for you, of course.

He is not attracted to your sister, his primary goal is to obtain his beloved. He would never be content with someone else, you are the only person he wants. No one else can measure up. He would continue to focus all his efforts on winning you over. And if your sister continues to interfere, his actions may become more drastic.

It would make the situation a bit tricky if you felt you were nothing amazing compared to your sisters. If you think that you are nothing special then his own jealousy and possessiveness might not be enough to change your mind. He might try to build your confidence up, while also emphasizing the importance of your relationship and how much he values having you with him. He could compliment you and boost your self-esteem, while also making you feel that you are more special to him than anyone else.

His family would likely be concerned about his obsession. They would be concerned about him acting out and hurting you and your sister. They would likely try and intervene and get him to let you go or stop hurting you. However, he would be hard pressed to listen to them. He cares about no one but his love.

If/when he finally got you he would do all he can to possess you. You would be his, and his alone. You would not have the option of going anywhere or doing anything without his permission. He would want you to be with him 24/7. He would make you entirely dependent on him.

He would want you to be married to him, and no one else. And he would want you to have his children and no one else’s. It would be a way of keeping you by his side and tied to him by the closest bond. Children would also serve to make you more dependent on him.

It is not something that he would wish to do. He feels it goes against his code of honor and his "chivalrous" nature. He would never want to stoop to such a level. However, if the alternative is never marrying you and having children, he may not have a choice but to force himself on you and make sure you will in fact be his. It is a decision that he would have to make.

If he were to force you into marriage with him he would make sure it is no small or quiet affair. It would be a grand ceremony. Invitations would be sent to all the great lords of Westeros. He would want to show the realm that you and he were married and that he would keep a firm grip on you. He would want to impress the realm with his love and authority. He would make sure you knew who’s royal and in power because of him, that you belonged to him.

If you are in his possession, who is to say that he cannot do what he wants? Of course he would still treat you with respect and honor you to the best of his abilities. However, you would be a prize to be proud of. You would not be free to go where you please, when you please, without his say so. He would never give you to another. He would never let you get away. He would fight tooth and nail to protect what is his.

[pjsk-story-summaries]

Our Happy Ending Event Story Summary

TL;DR: In an attempt to keep Phoenix Wonderland happy and allow the troupe to follow their dreams, Rui proposes that Wonderlands x Showtime becomes a freelance troupe to Shosuke and Keisuke. After getting tentative approval as long as they perform one more show at Phoenix Wonderland, he tells the troupe. Tsukasa and Nene are immediately on board, but despite their insistence, Emu affirms her decision to stay at the Wonder Stage.

Though they all try to stay positive, they're all saddened by the fact this will be the end. They decide to put on The Tale of the Traveling Troupe. The Virtual Singers decide to put on their own version of the show to cheer them up.

Emu reads over her script, saddened by original ending of staying together forever. Hinata comes by and notices her sorrow. Emu tells her that she has to stay behind, because this stage was where she fell in love with shows with Grandpa. She wants to see her friends off with a smile.

The next day, the Virtual Singers invite the troupe over to watch the show. Emu, worried the others will be concerned by her red eyes, has MEIKO lend her the Mikudayo costume to hide behind. Though the show's ending changed to have the three leave but return once their dreams came true, Emu still found herself near tears.

After rehearsal, Emu stays behind to wait for her brothers. She starts crying once she's alone. Nene had forgotten her phone back at the stage, so Tsukasa and Rui follow her. They find Emu there, sobbing. Nene yells at her for trying to hide her feelings, and Tsukasa declares that while he understands Emu's wish to see them all leave with a smile, it's okay to cry now. They all end up teasing and crying together.

The Otori brothers arrive shortly after. They tell Emu to leave with her friends. She should go see the world and learn all about it, so she can bring what she's found back with her. It's what Grandpa had told them to do, after all. The stage will be fine, because her selfish wish to protect it is no longer her own. Emu decides to follow her friends.

The final show is a huge success. As a parting gift, Shosuke gives them contact information for three potential troupes to mentor with, as well as a promise to always be allowed to perform at the Wonder Stage.

Fan translation (WxS Translation Team) / Song (Kirapipi★Kirapika) 2DMV

Chapter 1: Emu finds her brothers going over attendance statistics for the park. She's pleased to find the numbers increasing, and that people liked the 30th Anniversary show she put on with the Phoenix Stage earlier. Her friends put so much into that performance, and it paid off. However, she and her brothers recognize the time for goodbyes may soon be approaching. The thought makes Emu sad, but she wants to see her friends off with a smile.

Emu brought the survey results to the Wonder Stage. The rest of the troupe is glad to see such positive reactions, and how much it forced them to grow as actors. Tsukasa reveals how he had asked for more ambassadorial experiences after the ArcLand performance, and that despite the rejection, it was what landed them this performance. Tsukasa and Nene want to keep finding ways to gain new experiences. Emu wants to support them, but Rui's having a hard time deciding. He announces that he'll be leaving practice early that day.

Chapter 2: Rui secretly went to the Otori household to discuss the troupe's future with Keisuke and Shosuke. He proposes that Wonderlands x Showtime becomes a freelance troupe so Tsukasa and Nene can keep learning as actors in different places, but they'd still be able to support the park by performing there occasionally. He also asks permission to ask Emu to come along.

Keisuke points out the issues providing this special treatment could bring to the park, and is hesitant about letting Emu go. Rui insists, and they cave. Keisuke decides to consider the proposal.

Chapter 3: Rui proposes the freelance idea to the troupe. Tsukasa and Nene are excited about the possibility, but Emu knows she's going to stay here no matter what. Rui understands this, but still asks again. She'd still be able to make people smile while traveling, after all. She refuses again. She will protect this place Grandpa loved so much.

Later, Nene asks if there's anything they can do to convince Emu to come with them. If Emu isn't with them, then it's no longer Wonderlands x Showtime. Tsukasa's near tears about the ordeal. Rui receives a call from the brothers officially accepting their freelance proposal.

Chapter 4: Rui goes over to the Otori household to discuss specifics. Rui reveals Emu declined the offer, so the brothers will create three contracts. They also ask if the troupe would stay to put on one final show for the park's upcoming anniversary. Rui knows his troupe will agree. It will be the last show they ever do together.

They all discuss the plan in SEKAI. Emu realizes how sad everyone seems to be, despite the fortunate opportunity. She decides to make sure everyone leaves with a smile and proposes they do the tale of the traveling troupe. Everyone agrees. She's glad they're all smiling now.

Rui hesitates a moment before exiting the SEKAI. The Virtual Singers notice how sad he looks. This show was made for him, after all, and the ending is about them all performing shows together forever. MEIKO proposes doing a show to cheer them up- their own rendition of the tale, but with a changed happy ending.

Chapter 5: Emu reads her script alone in her room. The ending makes her remember how happy she was to finally have a troupe way back when. She has to keep smiling so they don't worry.

Hinata stops by to offer some extra hot chocolate. She notices Emu's hidden sadness. Emu talks to her about her conflict. She still hasn't changed her mind.

Emu remembers back to a childhood memory. Grandpa had taken her to see her first show at the Wonder Stage. Emu fell in love with shows then. Grandpa explains how shows have the power to take you to any wonderland, and that this place will always make her smile. The real world isn't full of smiles all the time, but shows can drive her to change that.

That's why she can't leave this place. She will see her friends leave with a smile.

Hinata goes downstairs to talk to her brothers. She reveals how sad Emu really is about this. They don't want to intervene in the troupe's business, but they want to see Emu smile more.

Chapter 6: Emu arrives at the Wonder Stage first. She's worried the others will worry about how red her eyes are. MEIKO pops in to ask if she'd get them all to go to SEKAI to watch a special show. Emu asks if she can go early to hide her red eyes.

The others arrive to find Emu wearing the Mikudayo costume. Though confused, they go watch the show. The ending changed from "making shows together forever" to recognizing each of their individual dreams. Though they separated ways, they'll come back to perform again together someday.

Emu's happy about this ending. Still, she can't stop herself from crying. She hides her emotions behind the mascot costume and a cheery voice.

Chapter 7: After rehearsal, Emu stays behind to clean the stage. She's happy to see all her friends leave so happy. She can't stop herself from crying once she's alone. Emu remembers some important moments in their troupe's history- meeting Tsukasa, then Nene and Rui, the Halloween show, and the island, and Project Wonder. It only makes her sob more.

Rui, Nene, and Tsukasa are touched by the Virtual Singer's show, but concerned over Emu. They know she tends to hide her true emotions. Nene realizes she left her phone at the Wonder Stage, so they all turn back.

Rui hears Emu crying near the stage. Nene runs over. Emu tries to deny that's she's crying, but Nene yells at her for trying to hide it from all of them. If she's going to cry, they'll all do it together. Emu wants them to all be smiling when they have to say goodbye. Tsukasa jumps into his introduction speech before explaining that he shares Emu's wish to see them all smile. Still, they're allowed to be sad right now. He immediately starts crying. Emu laughs and calls his face silly, to which he teases her back. Nene comments how she meant for this to be serious but now it's ridiculous. Rui says it's just like them before crying himself.

Shosuke and Keisuke arrive at the stage. They had been looking for Emu, but feel the need to say this to everybody. Though they wanted to support whatever Emu decided, they realized this isn't for the best. They want her to go. She's just a kid. She should be exploring the world, learning about it to bring the dreams back to the park. They had done the same, after all. Grandpa told them to. Besides, the dream to protect the Wonder Stage isn't just her own selfish wish anymore.

Keisuke appreciates Rui's concern over the park, but tells him not to worry about that anymore. They've done so much for the park, this is the least they can do. The Wonder Stage will always be open to them.

Tsukasa, Rui, and Nene ask if Emu would follow them one more time. She says yes.

Chapter 8: The day of their final performance as Phoenix Wonderland employees arrives. They changed the ending for their show, too. Seiyurin, playing the village elder's daughter, tells the troupe to go out and see the world together, bringing smiles wherever they go. The village will be fine while they're gone.

At the finale of the show, Emu overhears a little girl telling her grandpa how much she loved the show. The crowd was filled with smiling faces.

After the show, the troupe discusses how well their send-off went. The others stages promised to put on shows here while they're gone, something they're all grateful for. As a parting gift, Shosuke gives them contact information for three groups willing to mentor them. The troupe says one last goodbye to the Wonder Stage before ending with a big "wonderhoy!"

[whyeverr]

It wouldn't be the end of a rotation with out a bulleted list recap, so here we go:

Moved out of their temporary accommodations at the train depot and into a home of their own in Conifer Station — making Cass and Wen our first played household outside of Port Promise. New Promise is growing!

Spent a solid 48+ hours doing little else but cleaning and started putting their own homey touches on the place, starting with the living and dining rooms, and transforming the garage into a metalworking studio

Celebrated the summer solstice — and Tyler's birthday — with absolutely everyone in town

Balanced all that hard work with a steamy romance dynamic and, surprise, surprise, found out that they are expecting!

Cassie conspired with Tyler to create a very special ring for Octavia, and made it all the way to level 5 gemology!

Wendell made skill progress on writing (with the laptop he discovered — what am I up to?) and charisma (someone always has to be grinding charisma) and found himself reverting to old ways teaching Octavia's daughter Lydia how to play piano... Perhaps something we'll see more of someday? 🤔

[ddarker-dreams]

Lock, what DO you love and like so much about Dostoevsky's work? I don't think you've ever talked about that. Please, I want to know !!!

^o^

(christianity mention jump scare below proceed with caution)

i thought this would be an easy to answer but figuring out how to put my feelings into words proved difficult .

the beginning is always a good place to start, so let's go with that. by chance, i happened upon this video on youtube and gave it a watch. about halfway in i decided i had to read notes from underground for myself. i struggled to understand what the narrator was trying to get across. the unique writing style, where the reader is addressed directly, as if in challenge, helped me preserve.

i think part of what makes his work special to me is his depiction of people. and they really do feel like people more than characters, even if some of their characteristics are unique to the era dostoevsky wrote in. everything else about them transcends time. i can see myself in some of them. whether it be the titular idiot, prince myshkin in his naivety; alyosha, who goes from devout to doubting; and ivan, whose bitterness toward religion masks his disappointment at the state of the world. 

that's why the brothers karamazov touched me in particular. for some context, i grew up in a christian household and was heavily involved in the church (american northeast white baptist strand of church). around when i was 11 or so, the introduction of left-wing politics through social media had me undergo a looooong identity crisis. these new ideas felt at odds with what i'd spent my entire life believing. what i grappled with the most relates to ivan's anecdote, the grand inquisitor, where the goodness of god is called into question. the bitterness, the disappointment from crushed expectations, all those sensations resonated strongly with me. reading it as an adult who (supposedly) 'healed' from that time period in my life was like opening pandora's box. i'd never seen my thoughts and struggles so accurately described, or treated with more than a 'his ways are higher than our ways' type platitude. i stuffed these concerns of mine away because they only ever served to make me feel worse.

i won't delve deep into the Depressing Lore. the only reason i mention it is to stress how profound an impact the work had on me. throughout the remainder of TBK (and in most of dostoevsky's discography), the best and worst of humanity is shown. our hypocritical nature, capacity for evil; nothing is shied away from or made more palatable. and yet, throughout it all, our potential for good is shown too. whether it be in the little acts or monumental self-sacrifice. sometimes those acts are honored, or ‘worth it,’ sometimes they aren’t. it’s cheesy but whatever i’ll say it — choosing to love and serve others is my greatest joy. i don’t really need a definitive answer to those problems i struggled with. that’s the takeaway i’ve had from his work. it might not seem like a big deal, but not feeling guilty for having certain doubts or anxious over those doubts never fully being resolved was. very significant for me. and healing (for real this time). 

so that’s the sentimental perspective GJSDLKFJS from my writer’s perspective, i can only describe him as brilliant. his grasp on the human psyche is incredible. he can accurately describe so many emotions, worldviews, and give the context necessary for each one to feel organic and real. it’s vivid, too, in a way i can’t properly get across. everyone’s unfiltered and messy. characters contradict themselves in the same sentence. they’ll murmur, go off on tangents, tell stories, misquote the bible (or many other significant works), and just be overall disasters. aka how people actually are. 

the man’s also funny as hell. the protagonist from crime and punishment has a mental breakdown spanning multiple pages over a sock. yes, there’s context, but that’s still the gist of things. then there’s the issue of the hedgehog in the idiot. hedgehog drama. 

ultimately, his work is so very human. there’s commentary on issues that are prevalent to this day, multiple centuries later. the topics he touches on tend to align with what i care about most. whether i agree or disagree with what i’m reading, there’s always something i glean from it. something meaningful that sits with me long after i close the book. i’ll mull over it and bother people in my vicinity until they mull over it too. no one is safe. whether it be a co-worker or my dad who drives noticeably faster to reach our destination and be free of my many questions.

i could keep going but this ended up being long enough GJSKDF i hope at least something here makes sense?>?? i apologize for the incoherent ramblings. it's what the dude does to me.

[pie-of-flames]

Ringo's Fish 'N' Chips Recipe

From Mary Frampton & Friends Rock & Roll Recipes, 1980.

There are two closely adhered-to customs in Ye Merry Olde England—both Guy Fawkes Night and New Year's Eve are spent at Ringo's! It's quite probable that I won't see his guests until the same time, same place next year but they're guaranteed to turn up for these two highly important occasions. Guy Fawkes Night is the children's special treat, but the age of the "children" is extremely flexible! Ringo presides over a gigantic bonfire and a fabulous display of fireworks. An enormous party follows which becomes a competition to see whether the kids can outlast the "grown-ups." The kids usually win, of course! New Year's Eve is very special, even more so for a northerner from Liverpool. Certain customs must be respected to bring good luck to the household for the coming year. Everyone piles out of the house, holds hands in a circle, and sings "Auld Lang Syne." Then there follows kissing with gay abandon. Then Ringo, as the host, stands at the front door and welcomes each guest back into the house. Everyone carries a piece of coal and a piece of bread, handing them to Ringo on the way indoors. This is a sign that the house will be blessed with enough fuel and food for the coming year. After that, anything goes! Most of the time, Ringo is resident in Los Angeles. So it will be interesting to see what happens on those two special days in the future. I have a feeling that everyone will turn up as usual. Old habits die hard.

Ring's talent as an actor emerged during the filming of the various epics starring the Fab Four. Although excellent in their own way, none of the films were exactly "heavyweights," and although Ringo has had parts in several films since, I would still love to see him pay a role he can really get his teeth into. He obviously has a lot of untapped talent in that sphere. He's still one of the best drummers in the world and loves to help his mates out on their various gigs. An example of this was his appearance at the Band's Last Waltz Concert. Another was years ago. Ringo and Maureen (they were still married then) came over to dinner and I managed to cook something without onions or garlic, neither of which Ringo eats. After dinner, we all went upstairs to the living room and Peter [Frampton] sat down with his acoustic guitar and played a song for Ringo and Maureen called "The Lodger." Ringo loved it and said he'd be delighted to play on the track if Peter recorded it. He did, and he did! It came out on Peter's first solo album, Wind of Change. What a long time ago that was. We've all gone our separate ways but I'm relying on Ringo's twice-yearly dates for us all to get together again.

RINGO'S FISH 'N' CHIPS

INGREDIENTS

Fish Chips

METHOD

Get in your car, or walk, whichever the case may be. Travel to your local fish and chips shop and ask for cod and chips. Add salt and vinegar to taste. Eat with fingers for best results—I do! 'Bye.

—Ringo Starr

[miz-chase]

tw canon typical abuse/violence

I really do wish Bones gave the time to unpack Brennan and Booth's individual relationships with violence and how they intersect.

Brennan from the opening of the first episode, is violence first, always. I wonder where she learned that, as it seems she was defenseless while she was in foster care. More likely it was as a young adult in college, where she was finally free to make her own choices in her life. It's easy to imagine that she utilized those skills often on field-work trips. It would make sense if her school/work life was bouncing between 1) being the only woman at a field site in dangerous locations, and 2) being socially isolated in labs. If that's the case, it would make sense that she never really acclimatized to 'normal' life wrt to violence. In the States, you'd figure she'd have had some repercussions for doing things like breaking noses and wrists on an impulse.

God forbid there be police violence accountability in a copaganda show, but it would make an interesting story if Brennan attacking a suspect had real consequences, getting charges dropped, blowing the case no matter how good the evidence they had. How would she cope?

Meanwhile with Booth,

we know experienced violence at home from an early age. He shielded his brother from his father's beatings, which probably involved hitting back. Pops takes Jared and Booth away when they were "little kid(s)." Presumably that violence was subsumed by his football playing that gets him a scholarship to college, but he then spends the entirety of his 20s in some form of military or violent FBI circumstances. He goes from an army grunt boxer to a specially trained sniper, turning the emotional physicality of violence into something remote and dispassionate. These are the kills he truly regrets.

When we meet him as an FBI agent, he's a bully who will casually, indifferently shove suspects around, uses his physicality as a tool to maneuver anyone he likes. He also explicitly, morally hates killing. The series sees him grow out of (most of) this violence, to the point where he has a minor crisis over losing his temper with a guilty suspect.

Again, I wish we saw consequences for the casual violence, though his bullying suspects is in more in line with cop-standard-deniability injuries rather than Brennan literally breaking bones.

What I'm really interested in, though, is this contrast, where Booth uses violence as a dispassionate, even disliked, tool while Brennan acts all on impulse and always assumes she's right to do so. Booth can't stand to lose control, anything that comes from anger sends him into a spiral. We can contrast this with Brennan's embrace of impulsive violence, where she always feels she is justified (and the narrative usually agrees).

We know that from the beginning, Booth finds it "so hot" when she loses her temper and whacks a senator in the nose, but it also is the reason their partnership dissolved in the first place. It always seemed like a charged thing that, when Brennan hit him, he was quick to defend her. He was raised in a household that made excuses for violence, and it feels loaded that he continues to do that for Brennan over the seasons. It isn't until season 11 where he is like, hey babe, maybe don't.

"It is my job to make sure I don't lose my partner because she can't control her temper."

It's not that I think Brennan is abusive, not at all, but do I think that she's oblivious-to-careless about the kind of trigger that hitting Booth is. We rarely see them fight, but the angst in me wants more arguments like The Shot in the Dark. Arguments are a normal part of life as a couple. Brennan losing her temper and lashing out is in character. What would happen? how would they cope?

The flipside is, and this is the real angst, is if Booth ever actually lost his temper with her. If we use Signs in the Silence as our model, he goes right into a self-hatred spiral even with justified violence, just because it comes from a place of anger. If he got angry enough, he wouldn't even need to touch her to view it as a massive slip up. Because deep down he thinks he is his father, and if he ever gets angry with Brennan, then maybe he will hurt her. That faint possibility, the minute potential that he could ever hurt her? He would absolutely lose his shit. He'd be out of the house never to be found again. He would absolutely do the worst thing he could possibly do to hurt Brennan (abandon her) in order to protect her from the worst thing in his entire life (violence through anger).

I don't think I could ever write the fic, because it's just too damn angsty, but man, what a situation to put these specific characters in. It's both of their worst nightmares combined, no better way to hurt both of them at the same time.

[jeannereames]

Whenever we think of royal families our minds tend to go to the concept of the European noble House. The House of Habsburg, the House of Windsor, the House of Stuart etc. I understand that we should look at the Ancient Greek, Macedonian & Hellenistic royal families in a different way becuase of the different family & power dynamics - could you please help us understand the difference?

Ancient Court Societies vs. Modern

Probably the biggest difference is greater organization of hierarchy. Modern royal houses have had a lot of time to evolve.

Norbert Elias’s The Court Society has become the foundational study on court systems, although it’s western-focused by intent. Nonetheless, it’s a useful introduction to how courts function with inner courts, outer courts, etc.

The biggest things to keep in mind are:

The degree of formality between court members. How “deep” and structured is the hierarchy? (Smaller courts typically have far less formality than larger ones.)

How formalized are matters of succession and marriage ties? Particularly the presence (or absence) of royal polygamy can affect that.

Court societies inevitably progress from less formal and hierarchical to more of both. We can sometimes talk about earlier court societies as chieftain-level societies versus more organized royal, or even imperial societies.

Part of the struggle first Philip, then Alexander faced was transforming a chieftain-level court system into something that would work on a (much, for Alexander) larger scale. Unsurprisingly, there was push-back against, essentially, “bureaucracy.” Nobody likes it, but the larger an area controlled, the more necessary it becomes.

Traditional Macedonian courts were fairly informal, the king being primo inter pares (first among equals). No titles were used when addressing him—he was called by his name—and the only thing expected of the speaker was to take off his hat. “King” (basileus) was used when speaking OF him. We don’t see “King ___” employed in Macedonia (at least in inscriptions) until Kassandros, who needed it to buck up his claim.

None of that means the average person could wander into the palace and start chatting up the king. He was protected by his Bodyguards (Somatophylakes), who also apparently managed access to him. Yet he was expected to sit in judgement as an appellate court, where anybody could appeal a case before him. How often this occurred no doubt depended. Philip was gone a lot, and Alexander was permanently out of Macedonia two years into his reign. Presumably his regent fulfilled the role in his absence. (As I depicted near the beginning of book 2, Rise, when Alexandros is hearing cases.) Anyway, that’s one place the “average person” could get the ear of the king. Also, it seems that he was more approachable by soldiers in battle circumstances. We’re told Alexander got right in with his men to do work during sieges. It was to encourage them, but he was standing next to them so they could see and talk to him, if they wanted to. He seems to have known many of his veterans by name.

Another factor in Macedonia was lack of formal hierarchy among nobility. They had a nobility—the Hetairoi (King’s Companions)—but theoretically all Hetairoi were equal in status. In practice, they absolutely weren’t. The king also had an inner circle referred to as “Friends” (Philoi), who acted as chief advisors. The problem with both terms is their use as common nouns as well as special titles. When is a friend a Friend?

Also, at least some of this was hereditary. Yes, making (or removing) Hetairoi was in the power of the king. But it was much easier to do the former than the latter, and even strong kings didn’t do the former early in their careers, never mind the latter. For many, becoming Hetairos was a rubber-stamp. They were Hetairoi because their fathers had been. We’re also not sure if the title was extended only to the eldest male in a household, or more than one could hold it at once, but for most, it was a birthright.

So, when Alexander took the throne, he was stuck with his father’s Somatophylakes (Bodyguard) and inner circle of advisors. He absolutely could not toss them out on their ear to install his own men. He had to proceed sloooowly. Which is why we don’t see Hephaistion as a Somatophylax even by the Philotas Affair, five years into ATG’s reign. He was clearly an advisor (Philos), but didn’t become Bodyguard until sometime later. Same thing with Ptolemy, who apparently got Demetrios’s slot—the Bodyguard (almost surely one of Philip’s) behind the actual conspiracy of Dimnos, not the made up one of Philotas. When he was executed, Alexander promoted Ptolemy to his slot. Note that Ptolemy was made Somatophylax before Hephaistion. Politics, family status, and probably age trumped personal affection.

If Hetairoi couldn’t be kings themselves (unless they were also Argeads), they were king makers, and kings had to take their influence into account. Especially new kings.

As a chieftain level society, Macedonia operated on “rule by clan” with the king being the senior male Argead. His brothers, sons, nephews, and male cousins might all have important roles, as did the women, although theirs were primarily religious and the running of the royal household. Yet royal women could do limited politicking in the way of donations (eurgetisms) to create goodwill, promote the family, or make alliances—as well as (of course) the alliance created by their marriage itself. Most of these roles were informal and ad hoc, rather than titular, if also expected of them. For instance, the king’s wives were just that: king’s wives. The title queen (basileia) wasn’t used until the Hellenistic courts of the Diadochi.

Ancient near eastern courts were more stratified, with more distinct roles. In fact, it seems that Macedon, from Alexander I onward, borrowed offices from the Achaemenid Persian court, including the Bodyguard and the Royal Pages (King’s Boys). So as early as the late Archaic Age, Macedonia looked east for how to formalize a court. Certainly Philip did it well before Alexander. The notion that Alexander’s Persianizing was somehow new is bull malarky.

Anyway, in the ANE, kings tended to fit one of two traditions: shepherd king or heroic king. The Sumerian kings and Hammurabi (Old Babylon) were both examples of the shepherd-king model. Heroic kings began with the Akkadian, Sargon the Great, then the neo-Assyrian kings, especially the Sargonids. Cyrus cast himself as a heroic king, but we see a shift back to shepherd kings with Darius the Great. Another aspect of ANE kingship were three chief expectations: win wars, build big shit, and administer justice.

Due to a much longer tradition of kingship extending from the Early Bronze Age, as you may imagine, these court systems developed much more in the way of formalized structures and offices. If these changed from king to king, at least by Bronze-Age Babylon (Hammurabi), then Neo-Assyria, access to the king was severely curtailed. At least the Persian kings got out and moved around on a sort of “King’s Progress,” but that was to check up on satraps. The average citizen saw them only at a distance. In contrast the Sargonids of neo-Assyria emerged from their palace complexes almost exclusively when going to war.

The Medes and Persians, like the Hittites before them, fit themselves into ANE traditions after they arrived in the area. Less is known about pre-ANE Hittites, but if they kept some unique religious traditions, when it came to How to Run an Empire, they used Akkadian and Egyptian precursors. Similarly, the Medes and Persians who came from the steppes, also adopted ANE patterns while retaining some traditions—again particularly religious (Zoroastrianism). We know a wee bit more about them prior; they (like Macedon) seem to have had chieftain-level monarchy with rule by clan, plus tribal princes, before conquering the whole area.

I hope that helps in understanding ancient eastern Mediterranean and near eastern notions of a court. We know less about the Odrysian Thracian and Illyrian kings to Macedonia’s north, but I suspect they were similar to early Macedon. Just tooling around Thrace, it was very clear to me that we’re looking at a shared regional culture between that area and Macedonia. Similar vibes attended my visit to Aiani (ancient Elimeia) and Dodonna (Epiros). I didn’t get up into Illyria, but what I do know of the archaeology suggests the same. ALL these cultures, despite the ethnic and linguistic differences, influenced each other. Yes, ancient Macedonia was at least “Greek-ish,” but we can’t and shouldn’t dismiss the impact on them from their northern neighbors.

Last, let’s consider the role of royal polygamy. Well back into the Bronze Age, ANE kings might marry several wives and also kept concubines for political purposes. That’s why we call it royal polygamy, not just polygamy. Royal polygamy might exist in a society that otherwise limits the number of wives anyone not the king can have.

Macedonian kings also practiced it, and Thracian and Illyrian, but on a more limited scale. Greeks and Romans, then Christians, depicted any polygamy as a “barbaric Oriental” (= morally corrupt) practice that supported their general view of Asia as soft and indulgent. (Sex itself wasn’t a vice, but too much sex was: uncontrolled desire.)

In later Europe, kings might have mistresses, but it wasn’t “official,” and they certainly didn’t have multiple wives. Christianity frowned on that. Even before, Roman emperors didn’t employ royal polygamy, although they did use serial monogamy—a long-standing practice back into the Roman Republic. Yet that required divorce. When the Christian church made marriage both a sacrament and a vow (not a contract, as it had been pretty much everywhere else), they made divorce impossible without either a wife’s death or religious shell games like annulment. Until Henry VIII, European kings were largely stuck with just one marriage.

Ancient courts didn’t have that problem. And from a political point of view, monogamy is a problem. It reduces the number of political ties available. Having royal polygamy offers more fluidity in possible heirs, and increases, sometimes exponentially, avenues for political alliance.

That said, the downside can be messy inheritance. Two of the more infamous inheritance disputes (other than Alexander’s) involved Esarhaddon, youngest son of Sennacherib, and Cyrus the Younger vs. Artaxerxes II. The latter dispute resulted in civil war (thank you, Xenophon, for telling us about it). As for Esarhaddon, he was so in danger from his older brothers, his mother kept him out of the capital until claimants were dead. There are others, but these two leapt to mind. There are also Egyptian examples, but I’m far less knowledgeable about those dynasties. And, as we see later in Europe, disputed successions can occur without polygamy!

Anyway, when it comes to selection of the heir, two things that matter in polygamous courts: status of the mother, and (for the ANE) whether she was queen. Not all wives were also queens. In the case of Esarhaddon, his mother Naqiʾa was of lower status and not a queen, so when his father named him heir, his older brothers (and their court allies) blew a gasket. Both Assyrians and later Achaemenid Persian kings could marry as many women as they wanted, plus take concubines…but the heir was expected to be from his Chief Wife, or Queen. Of “pure” blood. Cyrus the Younger’s argument against his older brother rested on a similar status technicality: he’d been born after his father became king, while Artaxerxes II was born before. We’d say Cyrus was “born to the purple.” But it was just an excuse; he was the ambitious one, and their mother favored him. If Macedonia didn’t have queens, the status of the mother mattered to being selected as heir there as well.

So these are some of the chief differences between ancient Mediterranean and near eastern courts, compared to later European.