#the new song literally made them terrible for no reason

[colorfuldream]

Will Nintendo ever stop putting Deep Cut down for the other idols

[maxphilippa]

i want to make something clear because i think that you guys are being a bit weird about me: i don't think that taco is like. just pure evil. like the whole episode was meant to show how far gone she was and how she sees herself as someone that doesn't have remedy, that can't get any better, so that's why she decides to bring everyone down with her as a result. the point of her song is that she KNOWS that she's terrible, she knows that it is too late for her to fix things, she describes herself as purely evil and feels bad about the damage she caused but that's the thing. she doesn't seek to be a better person, she's very very miserable on the current situation she's in. she thinks that since she's too far gone to fix things with these guys, she might as well be broken forever and ever. but that's not true. she CAN heal. but she can't heal if she keeps herself attached to the show. mepad thinks she can still fix things because he doesn't know the full context of everything, and he does care about her well-being. right now, to mepad, it seems that the best thing for taco would be try to make amends.

but that's the thing. taco isn't ready to make amends. she's scared of facing the people she hurted, she's scared of trying to fix things after she knows that they're beyond broken. she knows that mic and pickle left for a reason, but she's on such a deep spiral that she's still not able to let go. mepad wants to save her and he wants her to be happy, but taco is too emotionally unstable at the moment and the episode showed that. ii is literally breaking her. it is literally making her lose herself and her attachment to it is going to fully make her lose her mind.

taco can't be saved because she doesn't want to be saved. at the moment, that is. she knows that she's a terrible person and ended up hurting others while trying to do something "right", but ultimately what she has done was to bring down a friendship that was just working their way to healing (baseball and suitcase), make everyone feel even worse around eachother, and overall made things messier. and it makes sense. she wanted to do that, but she's too stressed to think properly on what to do know. perhaps she had good intentions, perhaps she did want to make others realize that the game is not good for their mental health, but she's the one that is the most attached to it. taco could've started working on herself since the start of the episode if she really wanted to.

but she didn't. she doesn't think that she can change at all.

and now you might expect me to say something like "and she's right" but that's also not true.

taco CAN change but she has to let go of the game and of everyone in order to forgive herself. she has to let go and to understand that meanwhile it is too late to fix things with everyone, she can start with fixing herself. and she's not going to be alone to do that, mepad is genuinely convinced that she can get better, and she can. but she has to let go of the game and of everyone there to ACTUALLY redeem herself FOR HERSELF. she might not be able to fix things here, but she can always find another place to start over. she'll be loved if she lets herself be loved.

taco needs to understand that. she has to let go and that feeling bad about herself and everything that happened won't fix everything. there are a lot of characters that went through similar moments in the show, and the way they got better as people was because they let go of what was stopping them from healing.

taco needs to let go of ii to heal.

she needs to accept that she can change for the better and move on. and start over. and mepad is her companion now, and he left ii for her.

so... yeah. i really hope taco's arc ends with her finally healing and letting go of the show. that she learns that she doesn't have to punish herself with that. that she moves on and meets new people. that mepad helps her realize that meanwhile it is too late to fix things on ii, it is never too late to start working on yourself after letting go.

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Allusions to Cheating, Lying, Jealousy, Sexual Themes, Crying.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

A/N: Thanks so much for waiting for us while we took our little break. We had the absolute best time at our shows. We plotted and schemed most of the week and there really is quite a bit of exciting new things on the horizon, so keep your eyes peeled.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

DUBLIN, IRELAND

HER POV

“There,” you whispered, putting the final touches on the food display. You gathered up the empty boxes and trash and made your way out the back door of the venue to dispose of them. You hoped you wouldn’t see anyone along the way, keeping your AirPods in as a public declaration to leave you alone.

You’d thrown yourself into work the last week, doing things that didn’t even fall under your scope of work just to fill the time. Your phone was on mute, but that didn't stop the calls. The texts. The songs. They all still came, but you paid them no mind. You couldn’t. You couldn’t be that girl. You couldn’t be the one to ruin a relationship. 

You hadn’t spoken to Jake since the friend request came through. You still hadn’t even accepted it. You didn’t know if you even should. She obviously knew who you were, and that alone scared you more than anything. How did she know?

You hadn’t spoken to Josh either. He had done his best to avoid you since that night in the bar, his look more than disappointed as he walked away. You felt a twinge of regret that you’d let him down, but you and Jake were nothing, and he has a girlfriend. He should be more mad at Jake than you. 

A call rings through your AirPods, the robotic voice alerting you to Ruth’s Facetime call. You make the split second decision to accept it, pulling your phone from your pocket and tapping the green button. 

“Hello,” you answer, shielding your face from the sun. 

“God, it’s so weird that it’s sunset there and I’m just now eating breakfast,” she says, taking a bite of a bagel. 

“Babes it’s literally what, noon there? Why are you just now eating breakfast?”

“Ugh, this isn’t about me, quit changing the subject,” she gripes.

“What?! I just–”

“Did you accept it yet?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“No! Are you insane! Why would I do that! Then she would know that I know who she is, and then she would know that I know she knows who I am!” you shout. 

“Yeah, I…am not even gonna try to decipher what you just said,” she says, shaking the ice in her coffee. 

“Ruth! Ugh!”

“What!? I’d accept it, you have nothing to hide. It’s not like you’re posting about him.”

“But–”

“But what? Show her you’re a hot bitch and she should be scared!” she laughs, tilting her head side to side. 

“You are actually a terrible influence,” you scoff. 

“Fine, what about McSexy,” she says, slurping up the last bits of coffee through her straw.

“Are you done with that yet? GOD.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughs, tossing it into the trash. “Spill about Beefy McGuns before I throw myself off a cliff.”

“Yeah I am the dramatic one,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “Murph is…well, he’s good I guess. We have been hanging out a little bit since… ya know. We snuck into the hotel pool a few days ago, got Gelato night before last and last night we went to Temple Bar because the guys had an outing thing.”

“Okay, so you and McDouble are like kinda hot and heavy courting,” she asks. 

“Please don’t call him McDouble, that is gross. I mean, courting sounds kinda…more serious than it is. We are just hanging out.”

“A lot.”

“Yeah, kind of a lot,” you admit. 

“Do you like him more than Mr. Pene-Traitor?”

“RUTH ANNE!” you shout, trying to stifle back laughter. 

“Answer the question,” she snaps. 

“No! I don’t know! I mean, I like them equally for different reasons,” you answer.

“Well who is better in the sack?”

“Um…”

“Oh my god, you haven't slept with McSexy yet?” she asks, mouth gaping open.

“No! It hasn’t…gone there yet,” you reply. 

“Yet…So you intend for it to…” she smirks. 

“Well, I wouldn’t hate it,” you laugh. “I’m kinda like not planning to sleep with Jake again after all this shit. Murph seems less…complicated. He’s fun, and respectful, and we just mesh so well when we hangout. We have a lot in common and it’s just so easy. It’s not serious or anything but I’m trying to see where this thing goes.”

“So guitar daddy is out, officially…”

“Jesus Christ, Ruth.” you sigh, “I mean I haven't spoken to him in almost a week now. I’ve been ignoring every attempt and conveniently finding myself in the opposite room as him. I don't know what to even say to him without exploding so I have just been saying nothing.”

“Has he added any songs or anything?” she asks, quirking a brow. 

“A few but I haven’t replied,” you answer. 

“Oh I bet it’s eating him up, too.”

You shrug your shoulders as you see the back door open, Sam stepping out to light up a cigarette. 

“Hey, I gotta go, the family unit is present,” you say quietly nodding your head to the side. 

“Okay, well, personally I think you should accept her request. I’d think it's more suspicious that you haven’t if I were her. Maybe she just wants to talk.”

“I will think about it,” you say, pursing your lips. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Alright alright, and don’t forget my souvenir. I want one with sandy brown hair, blue eyes and an Irish accent.”

“You are actually so annoying.”

Your phone dings in your ear as a text flashes across the screen. 

“Oh shit,” you gasp. “It’s Murph.”

“What's up McBeefy?!” Ruth shouts. 

You open the text, reading it over quickly as a smile crosses your face. 

“Oh okay, why are you blushing Y/N? Huh, huh? Why you smiling like that?”

“So, he just said that The Black Keys are going to be in Glasgow on our day off next week,” you say, a little shocked. 

“As in The Black Keys that you’ve loved your whole life Black Keys?”

“Those would be the ones…”

You

6:02PM: How did you know I love them?

Murph

6:03PM: Just had a feeling 😉

Murph

6:04PM: I’m gonna tell the guys, I’m sure they will want to go. 

You

6:05PM: I definitely want to go.

Murph

6:06PM: Well good thing I just bought us tickets

“Hello?! Earth to Y/N!” Ruth shouts, and truthfully you forgot she was on the line. 

“Fuck, sorry,” you say, reopening Facetime.

“What did you say?!”

“I told him I want to go and he said he already bought us tickets,” you smile. 

“Mmhm, yeah it’s not serious at all though,” she mocks. 

“Gotta go! Love you bye!” you smile, ending the call and shoving your phone into your pocket.

You nod to Sam as you walk back into the building, making your way back into the greenroom to finish up. Your music begins to play through your AirPods again, and you feel a sense of calmness now that you’ve gotten a little reassurance from Ruth. You tidy up the room a bit, grabbing a few empty cans and chip bags and banishing them to the trash can that is seemingly invisible to these four men.

Just as you turn around you see Jake stepping into the room with his eyes on you. 

Fuck. 

You jump back a bit in shock, watching as he throws his hands up in innocence.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, a guilty look on his face. 

You pull your earbuds from your ears and place them in their case as you lean against the wall behind you. “It’s fine. What’s up?” you ask, trying to seem casual. 

“You think we can talk for a second?” he asks, rubbing his fingers over his chin. 

“Um, right now? I’m just finishing this up?” you counter, not really feeling like this is the best time for, well, this. 

He walks over to the small couch, tapping the spot next to him, “Please, just for a second.”

His brown eyes lock with yours and you know there is no way you can deny him. He had that effect on you. You nod and walk over to him, sitting next to him. Maybe this is it. 

You watch as he pulls in a deep breath as if trying to organize the thoughts in his head. He swallows nervously and turns his gaze to you. 

“You know, this last week has been…well, to be honest, it’s been complete shit,” he starts, locking his fingers together. “We went from seeing each other nearly every day and texting and everything to…whatever this is. Not speaking…”

You nod your head, wanting to hear his piece before giving your own. 

“I miss you. I’ve missed you a lot. I have hated every second of this silence and I would very much like to get things back to how they were before… all of this.”

Did Josh not tell him about Murph? Surely he had…

His hand reaches for yours, grabbing it in his own as he continues and you are praying he is ready to come clean. 

JAKE POV

“I know I’ve been a total and complete asshole, Y/N, and you don’t deserve that. That’s not me,” you go on, squeezing her hands in yours. Your voice continues to crack, and the emotion you feel while telling her all this actually surprises you. It’s hard to talk to her, hard to get things out. But you only know that it is because you’re positive that it all means something bigger. Your internal alarm clock is ticking, you can feel the time to get on stage is drawing closer and closer. “I just want you to know how sorry I am.”

“Jake, listen. I appreciate your apology, but I'm still not even sure what you’re sorry for? I mean, I know shit went sideways but, you never even told me why…” she goes on, pure confusion painting her expression. “I know that I was and am being left in the dark about something, and I don’t want to end up looking like the idiot.”

“Fuck, I know,” you say, rubbing a hand over your face. You can feel the bile swirling in your stomach as you prepare to speak again. “If you… I want to talk to you some more, and explain myself, but…”

“...You go on in like fifteen minutes and you aren’t even dressed yet,” she answers.

You nod, sucking in your bottom lip. Her eyes are glazed over, not with tears, but with some other overwhelming sentiment. Your voice shakes as you go on. “If you’re willing to hear me out, I have a long story I want to tell you.”

She takes a second to consider, and you know that she could just as easily tell you to fuck off, get away from her, and to never speak to her again. But instead she nods, meeting your eyes with pity. “It’s hard saying yes to this Jake, I’m not gonna lie…”

“I know it is. I know it, I’m so sorry, I’m just. You deserve to hear it all. From me,” you beg. The anxiety of it all is making you dizzy, and you hadn’t even told her anything yet. But you’re positive that when the time comes, it will all be worth it. She’s worth it. 

“Please trust me.”

She nods again. “Just…come to my room after the show?”

“I’ll be there,” you agree with a smile, and you feel the faintest hint of positivity, a tiny flame burning at the end of the tunnel. 

—

After an electric show, you dab the towel across your forehead and neck, wiping away the heavy sweat beads that continue to pour down. 

“Just keeps getting better and better, guys!” Paul compliments you as you pass by, making your way down the hall to the green room. 

“Thanks, man. Appreciate you,” you reply with a pat to his shoulder.

“Daniel, you hitting the shower?” you ask as you watch him take a seat on a red leather chair.

“Mm, here in a few, gonna have a drink first.” He pulls Mia over by the hand to sit on his lap, playfully wiping his sweat-covered arm across her face. “Where are Josh and Sam?”

You quietly walk over to the craft table, giving Y/N a sweet glance as you grab a mini bag of chips from the box, watching as she and Ty fiddle around with whatever random food is displayed across the table. “I dunno, they seemed like they were bickering all night, did you notice that?”

“Mmmhm,” Danny says through a long drink of a seltzer. “I could literally see the fuckin’ blurry tension between them, who the hell knows. He say anything to you, Ly?”

“Mmm, nope. Didn’t say anything to me…” Lyla avoids his gaze. You glance to Ty, and he offers you the same answer.

Just then, Josh and Sam burst through the door in a huffed mess of antics, yelling obscenities at one another as Josh’s hands fly up in the air around him. These two rarely fight, but every once in a while, one of them will get under the other’s skin. And sometimes it’s even worse, when they both manage to piss the other off so profusely, things can sometimes get physical. 

Josh’s voice is raised, and Sam’s face and neck are blotched red. You know that whatever it is, it isn’t good. 

“How about you stay the hell out of my face and sit the fuck down somewhere, huh?” Sam yells, grabbing a White Claw from the mini fridge and chugging it all almost in one drink. Your eyes dart directly to Danny who is just as stunned as you are, and equally as confused. 

“I’ll sit the fuck down when you stop running your fucking mouth, Sam,” Josh barks.

“Whoa, whoa, what the hell is going on?” you ask, moving toward them.

“Oh nothing, nothing, brother. Nothing at all,” Sam huffs, fury raging from him. You watch his eyeliner-covered eyes skitter across the room and finally land on Y/N, glaring at her from his peripheral. What the fuck?

For some reason, just his look pisses you off. 

“Not nothing, the fuck is your problem?” you ask him again, shooting your eyes between him and Josh. You see Mia rise up from Danny’s lap, joining Lyla on the couch. They sit closely together, and you swear they’re both biting back laughs. 

You finally move your eyes to Josh, giving him a stern look only the two of you can understand. ‘You got something to say?��� you ask him in your mind. 

He replies with an eye roll, shrugging his shoulders as he slips his stage jacket off. Josh is biting his tongue, you can tell, and the look in his eye is one you’ve seen often. With whatever rage he’s harboring mixed with the however many fireball shots he’s taken tonight, this could get bad. 

You look at Danny, as he knows the heavy feeling in the room all too well, too. You mentally ask him for backup.

Danny stands and clears his throat. “Uh, so… we going out tonight? We’re wasting moonlight if so…”

You jump in and agree. “Yeah, yeah let’s go grab a Guinness or something.” The room stays quiet as you and Danny make moves to get going, but the heaviness is still there. You decide to turn the attention elsewhere. “Y/N, Ty, you coming out with us?”

You can tell that Y/N feels like she’s invading the awkward encounter that’s currently happening in the room, just from her body language. 

“Yeah, um, sure… I suppose…” she says meekly. You offer her a little grin of reassurance.

“Oh, you mean you’re not hanging out with Murph tonight? Shocking!” Josh interjects, the tone of his voice menacing. Your head shoots to him. 

Y/N shakes her head, her entire demeanor falling. “Uh, no? No, why would I…” she stammers. 

“Just figured,” Josh continues, “You guys seemed pretty cozy the other night when I caught you making out at the bar in Paris, just thought you’d be continuing the festivities!”

“Josh!” Ty yells.

Hold…the fuck…on…

Your ears go deaf as you process Josh’s words, all the blood draining from your body, your extremities numb, your throat instantly dry. What the fuck. What the fuck??? He’s lying… That’s not true… she wouldn’t…

You hear a collective snicker from Mia and Lyla, both of them obviously loving whatever fucking show is happening right now. 

You somehow find the courage to look at Y/N, her face bloodshot and dripping with embarrassment as she turns away.

You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Making out? With Murph? Paris… a week ago? And Josh didn’t bother to…

You can’t find the will to move, or speak, or breathe or anything. Your mind is wracked with confusion and stress, wondering what in the hell is going to happen next.

—

HER POV

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you turn to look at Josh. 

Why? Why did he say that?

Your eyes scan the room as everyone stares at you, but all you can focus on is the look on Jake's face. It was a look similar to the one you received from Josh that night, but Jake’s hurt worse. Hit you deeper. You feel the knife twisting in your chest. 

You can see his neck growing red, the color creeping up into his cheeks as his anger starts to bubble up. Your eyes flash over to Mia and Lyla who are snickering in the corner like two highschool bullies. 

You shake your head and press your tongue to your cheek as you try to figure out an appropriate response. You decide at that moment that you owe none of them a single word. You silently grab your things and head to the door, brushing Jake’s shoulder as you pass. 

“Guess you’re not the only one with secrets, are you?”

You cut your eyes to Josh, completely shocked at his audacity to speak about something that didn’t involve him so publicly. It seemed out of character for him and you can tell by the way everyone is reacting to his outburst. 

You barely make it through the back door as the tears start to fall against your will. You feel so embarrassed. Everything has gotten so out of hand and now Josh hates you and you know Jake isn’t too far behind him. 

You just need to go back to your hotel room. Go back and be alone and cry in peace. You pull your phone from your purse and find the address for the hotel, and much to your displeasure, you see that it is a brisk three mile walk. Not to mention it is 42 degrees. You lock your phone in frustration knowing you have to go back inside and wait for the van to take you all back. 

You sneak back inside and head straight for the bathroom, locking yourself in one of the stalls and sitting down on the toilet bowl. You know the van isn’t going to leave for at least another thirty minutes, if not more. You let the tears flow freely in the confines of the bathroom stall, until you physically can’t anymore. You dry up your cheeks with the sleeve of your shirt as a notification from Ruth pushes through. 

Ruth

11:43PM: You do it yet?

You decide to bite the bullet. Who even cares anymore at this point?

You open Instagram and tap on her request, hitting the little blue ‘accept’ button and watching as her page populates with photos. Right off the bat you see how pretty she is, every picture perfectly effortless and aesthetically pleasing. Then, you see Jake. Happy, smiling, and holding her. Recently.

You're surprised by the feelings swirling through you, as you’d convinced yourself that your feelings for him were much smaller than they apparently were. You look at every single photo, and with each swipe you feel your own guilt start to grow larger and larger. 

Had you ruined this?

You hear noise in the hallway and know that they are leaving, heading to the bar or wherever they decided. You wait until you hear them leave, letting yourself out of the stall and into the empty hallway. As you approach the green room you know you want to get in, finish cleaning up, and leave, avoiding as many people as humanly possible. You press your ear to the door to listen for voices, but you hear nothing and know that the coast is clear. 

Though, when you open the door, you are met with someone, and thankfully it’s a friendly face. You see Ty grabbing the canned drinks from the fridge and throwing them into a cooler. He spots you, looking relieved and stops what he’s doing. 

“There you are,” he sighs in relief. 

“Wha– What are you doing here, I thought everyone left?”

He walks towards you, taking you into a hug before you can even process what he’s doing. It’s as if he already knows how you’re feeling and you fall into it, letting him wrap you up in his arms. 

“I’ve been around long enough to know how shit tends to go down in this family. I knew that Josh was in one of his moods tonight and Sam pushed him over the edge. Unfortunately, you were on the receiving end of things. I don’t blame you for walking out, but I am glad you came back.”

“Why are you always looking out for me?” you ask, feeling like you might cry all over again. 

“Real recognizes real, baby,” he winks, releasing you from the hug and returning back to the cooler. 

“Ty,” you whine, knowing you don't deserve his kindness. 

“Look, I know I shouldn’t, because he needs to do this himself, but I am really sorry about Josh. I’m gonna make him apologize to you as soon as I see him, I swear.”

“No, no, no. It’s okay. He is right. This whole thing is a mess and he and Jake and shit, even Sam, have the right to be mad at me. I fucked up.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “It’s a little bit of a mess but, it will get cleaned up. And as for Sam, I don’t think Sam is mad at you, per say, but more of just the situation and how he learned of it. There’s been some other shit going on with him lately, but don’t you worry I’m on your team, here.”

“You don’t need to be on my team, Ty. You have dealt with enough of my shit,” you laugh, hoping he doesn’t actually take your advice. 

He closes the cooler up and takes one last look around the room, both of you finding it spotless. “Oh, just let me. This is my shit and I am used to corralling these rowdy motherfuckers, I do it in my sleep.”

You laugh and shake your head, “Alright, alright, fine.”

He nods in victory before turning to you again, “You’re coming to the bar, right?”

“No, I’m probably gonna go back to the hotel and cry some more.”

“Actually, you’re not. You’re gonna go back to the hotel, pretty yourself up and come meet me.” He flits his hand to his chest as he points to himself. “I’ll text you the address when I get there.”

“Ty I can’t! I can’t even face Jake right now! And Mia and Lyla… I don’t know…” you stammer. 

“No, hang out with me all night. You don’t even have to talk to those bitches, I don’t half the time.”

You laugh at his honesty, and realize maybe you could go tonight.

“I don’t know…”

“Listen, it will look a lot worse if you don’t go darling,” he says, tilting his head to the side. You know he’s right. 

“Alright, fuck it.”

—

TY POV

Involving yourself in other people’s business wasn’t always your forte. In fact, it was something you tried to stray far, far away from. The thought of adding unnecessary stress into your life seemed daunting and pointless, especially when the outcome ended up being opposite of the one you desired, but, nonetheless… You find yourself here, completely involved in whatever drama is transpiring between Jake and Y/N. 

It’s none of your business in the least. It never was. But you could tell from the get-go that if no one else was going to step in and try to help each of them realize what was happening in front of them, you would have to be the one to do it. Who better, honestly?

You told Jake from the beginning that Isla seemed shady… though at first the two of them seemed like the happiest of two human beings, just like all new relationships do. She was good for him, and he treated her well. The day he told you and Josh that he told her he loved her, you were happy for him. Happy for them both. Things were good and they were taking Jake’s career changes in stride together. That was until you started to see straight through that bitch. 

That’s right, you’re not uncomfortable saying it anymore. She turned into a true-blue, cold hearted bitch. 

What started off as snide little remarks to Jake, in public, grew into full-blown insults that had you left with your mouth hanging open in disbelief. He let it slide off his back, though, and you swore it was like no one else even noticed it. How her behavior had changed almost overnight. You could see the respect she once held for Jake morphing into resentment right before your eyes, but everyone else seemed to think it was normal. 

It didn’t take long, though, for Josh’s twin-sense to be set off when he felt Jake’s normally low-key temper burning into fury; he was quite literally like a pot that was going to boil over anytime. Josh realized, but you don’t think he ever really realized, though to you, it was plain as fucking day. 

You and Josh welcomed him into your home, let him crash on the couch or in the guest room after he’d run away from her. It almost started to drive you insane that everyone else was just watching on as he let her walk all over him, all in the name of what everyone thought was love.

No. Fuck that. She may have loved him, but your senses absolutely buzzed with the feeling that all she was there for anymore was his status and fame. It made you sick how she took advantage of his popularity and his talent, only wanting to go out with him if it meant she’d be seen attached to his arm, only wanting to support him when it meant she’d reap the benefits. Made you fucking sick. 

But, like a good brother in law, you kept your mouth shut for the most part, until one day things got so bad you realized that Jake had seen the light, fully disconnecting himself from her right before you all left for this tour. 

And the minute you realized he was taking interest in Y/N, you felt like your heart could explode with relief for him. Finally, a distraction. The day you let him know how you felt about Isla in the bar was the first time you really said anything at all to him, hoping that your words of honesty would help to further the situation. 

But now… Now. Fuck, it seems like things have gotten messier than you anticipated. Y/N is the first person you’ve met in a while who matches your energy, who connects with you without any effort to do so. You like her a lot, and you are fighting to be on her team. But damn, if it doesn’t seem like she just dug herself into a hole…

So after what the fuck ever just happened in the green room, you know it’s time to strap your boots on and fix things, or at least try to. You’re no stranger to mediating arguments within this family, so you feel no shame in waltzing into this bar with a new flame lit under you. You’ve gotta fix this. For Y/N, and for Jake. 

You blow warm air into your hands as you walk into the bar, finding everyone gathered around a large table together. Good, they haven’t ripped each others’ heads off yet.

You take an empty seat next to Josh, greeting him with a quipped ‘Hey’ as you’re still a little bit pissed at his behavior earlier. His hand lands on your thigh, but you quickly pull it away, knowing that if you’re going to be the middleman here, everyone has to be on a level playing field. 

“The hell is wrong with you?” Josh slurs into your ear. 

You shoot a look his way, letting him know that now is not the fucking time. A quick glance around at everyone tells you that they’re all already fairly intoxicated, still sneering at one another overtop of their half-empty glasses. Great. Perfect. 

You take notice that Murph isn’t here, which is a good thing right now. He might need to stay behind and let the others have it tonight. You cross your arms over your chest as you make yourself comfortable in your seat. You clear your throat dramatically, effectively getting the attention of the table.

“Alright motherfuckers, who wants to tell me exactly what just happened in the green room?” you demand, taking a second to look Sam and Josh in the eyes first. The entire table groans and waves you off, except Sam, who gives you a look that says ‘Can’t tell you right now, but I will explain later…” He then does a quick glance to Lyla. You take mental note of that. 

Of course, Josh speaks first. “There’s not much to say, Ty… I caught our runner making out with our head of security last week, I don’t know what else you want me to say…”

“I want you to tell the table why you are so pissed off about that, Josh. Why are you so concerned with something that isn’t your business?” you quip back.

Josh mirrors your stance, crossing his own arms as he motions to Jake. “Hm, I don’t know, why don’t you ask my fucking twin, huh?” Everyone then turns all their attention to Jake, putting him directly in the spotlight. Your stomach turns over with nerves as you feel the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. You don’t want to do things this way. But, you’ve learned from experience, getting it all out on the table is the best way for them to do things like this. 

Jake is standing, running his tongue across his teeth, his face already glimmering with a nervous sweat. “Okay, fuck it,” he sets his beer down on the table, yanking a free chair out from underneath it and harshly taking a seat. “Y/N and I have been hooking up since tour started. Pretty regularly. Thought things were good. But I guess it doesn’t fucking matter anymore since apparently I was dumb to the fact that she’s more into our beloved Murphy.” You can tell he is seething. 

You hear Mia and Lyla gasp like the news was brand new to them. “So it’s fucking true, then, huh Jacob?!” Lyla practically yells, leaning over the table at him. “Ohhh, we fucking knew it, you sorry ass bitch.”

“It’s actually none of your fucking business, Lyla, so why don’t you lay the fuck off,” he retaliates.

You watch Mia put her hand on Lyla’s chest as she leans across her toward Jake, her words spitting with venom to him. “Actually it is my fucking business, Jake, Isla is my best friend you absolute dick! And she’s your fucking girlfriend!”

Jake almost stands from his chair completely, leaning over to her now. “She’s not my girlfriend anymore, Lyla! She hasn’t been for a long time! She just won’t admit it to anyone or even herself! Don’t speak on things you have absolutely no fucking idea about, Lyla. It’s not a good fucking look.” Jake is visibly vibrating with rage. You feel Josh doing the same.

Next thing you know you hear Sam bellowing toward Jake. “Hey, don’t fucking speak to her like that, man, or I swear to god–”

“Oh, I’d be fucking careful, Sam, given I know all the dirty details about our little conversation in my room the other night…” Jake defends himself with a finger pointed directly to Sam. His jaw is clenched so tightly you think he might break his teeth. 

Sam gives Jake a death glare that you know all too well, as Lyla turns in her seat to face him. “What the fuck is he talking about, Samuel? Is that why you disappeared drunk off your ass the other night? To go to Jake’s room? What did you talk about?”

Sam closes his eyes as he tries to diffuse his rage. “What the fuck ever, I’m just pissed everyone knew about Y/N and Jake besides me,” he slurs. “Always failing to let me in on the fuckin’ secrets.” You roll your eyes at Sam, suddenly confused and intrigued about what kind of conversation he had with Jake, anyway. 

“This is why, Sam! Right here! Shit blows up!” Jake yells. 

Josh groans, leaning his elbows on the table to Jake. “Yeah, just like I fucking told you it would.”

Jake scoffs hard. “Don’t talk to me about shit blowing up when you didn’t tell me for a god damn week that she was fucking around with Murph behind my back, Josh!”

“Ohhhhhoho, don’t try and pull that, I told you this shit wasn’t going to work anyway,” Josh responds with a sneer. 

“Wasn’t going to work?!” Mia yells. “What do you mean, wasn’t going to fucking work?! You have a girlfriend Jacob, are you a fucking idiot?!”

You watch as Danny physically lets his face fall into his hands, shaking his curls side to side.

“Alright, alright, everybody calm the fuck down,” Josh says loudly, actually qualming a situation for once in his life. “Let’s take a break, let’s talk this out.”

You dart your head to the side to give him a sharp look. “No, Josh, you’re the one who opened your big mouth in the green room and set everybody off, let’s hash this shit out right now. Everyone’s doing an excellent job of letting it all fly. Let’s not stop now,” you argue, putting your foot down. You motion with your hand to everyone at the table. “Keep going, let’s go…”

You hear a wholehearted laugh come from Jake at Josh’s expense.

Sam looks at Lyla, raising his voice a little. “Is this why you’ve been so fucking irritable lately?”

Oop, shouldn’t have gone there, kid.

She shoots back in her chair, looking as if she’s ready to pounce on him. “Whoa, whoa, irritable? Excuse me? Actually ya know what, yeah, I guess it fucking is!” She yells. “You’d be fucking pissed too, wouldn’t you?!”

“I guess I don’t know, since nobody ever fucking tells me anything!” Sam retaliates with his hands in the air.

“Sam you have got to be fucking kidding me… Do you not remember me sleeping on your couch for days at a time? Do you think I just did that because I missed you? Be serious…” Jake says with a little sincerity in his tone. 

“I don’t know! Shit, I guess I just thought you were…”

“Thought I was what?! Bored? Lonely? Hated my own home? Well, I guess that last one kinda makes fucking sense, now, huh?” Jake goes on, running a hand over his mouth.

Lyla speaks up. “All those nights you spent at our house Jake… you know Isla cried herself to sleep each and every one. Talked to me on the phone until 3AM until she couldn’t cry anymore because you fucking left her, over and over again–”

Jake leans his elbows on the table, hiding his face behind his folded hands. You can tell by the redness in his face that he is holding himself back from absolutely laying into Lyla. 

“Oh, you don’t even want to start with me, Lyla…” he grits his teeth, the vein in his head pulsing with rage again. 

“Chill out, Jake…” you hear Josh warn under his breath. 

“Do you know why I left, Lyla? Over and over again?!” His tone calms. “Yeah, I bet you don’t because all you care about is her fucking side of the story… did it not occur to you that I have one, too? What about my fucking feelings, huh? How do you know she’s not purposefully making me out to look like the bad guy? I bet nothing was her fault, was it? Hm?” He asks, looking around the table. Everyone stays silent, avoiding his glare. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. No one bothered to come and ask me what was wrong, hear my side of the story. Fucking figures, she always gets what she fucking wants, anyway,” he goes on, suddenly able to breathe through his words. “None of you cared to realize I’ve been fucking miserable for months? Tried ending things for months? I bet not, huh. You only got lies and a sob story from Isla.” He takes a deep breath. Keep going Jake…

“So yeah, I tried to end things with Isla. Multiple times. Now I know I have royally fucked up with making my life messier than it needs to be–”

“She still fucking lives with you, Jake–” Lyla cuts. 

“Yeah, I fucking know that, genius,” he eyes her sideways. “You think this has been easy for either of us? I asked her to move out way before we started packing for this fucking tour… So yes. I did start hooking up with someone else. And you know what? I don’t regret a goddamn second of it. I finally found something that makes me fucking happy, and not miserable every single second of my life. And if you want to know why I think my actions are justified, you can speak to me directly about it. I’m a grown fucking adult, and I don’t owe you a goddamn thing if you don’t even have the decency to speak to me about my own fucking business…” Jake cuts his eyes directly to Mia and Lyla, making them sink back in their seats a little. 

Fuck yes, Jacob. Fuck. Yes. 

Just then, like a sitcom hitting its dramatic peak, Murph enters the bar, leaving everyone gathered around the table even more speechless than they were before. You feel a collective breath be taken by everyone before Jake shoots up from his seat. “Another round?”

Hell yes. Success. 

Well, kind of. Progress. 

You look at your phone, seeing that Y/N had texted you a ‘?’ about fifteen minutes ago. 

“Perfect timing, Y/N is on her way here, too!” you announce, your voice full of pep. 

“You’re shitting me, right,” Josh murmurs under his breath to you. 

“Good, great. Grand. A big family reunion, huh?” Jake says sarcastically in his faux-accent. “I’m over the fucking moon.” Jake darts his eyes to Murph for a split second before making his way back to the bar. 

You take a second to hide your phone under the table, texting Y/N back.

You

12:32AM: Come. Sit with me. I’ll have a drink waiting for you. 

—

HER POV

Your palms are sweating with nervous energy, despite the freezing cold weather. You almost didn’t go. You talked yourself out of it three times before you ever left the room, but knowing that Ty was waiting for you was enough of a reason to go. He liked you, looked out for you and treated you like a friend even though he didn’t have to. You could suck it up for one night. 

As you push the door open you’re immediately met with warm air and the smell of stale beer. It’s loud in the small bar and terribly lit, making it hard to find the group. You see a hand wave you in its direction, and at the end of it, Ty. The table he is sitting at is fairly empty, most of the group dispersed throughout the bar, playing pool or darts. He pulls out the barstool next to him, sliding a drink in your direction. 

“You made it!” he smiles, watching you sit down next to him. 

“I did. What’s going on, I feel kinda weird about being here,” you admit. 

“Ahhh, don’t worry about it, everything is fine. Promise.” he says, taking a sip of his beer. “Everyone is pretty drunk now, and has already forgotten about earlier.”

You glance around the smoky bar and as you look behind you, your eyes meet with Josh’s, who is giving you the most apologetic eyes you’ve ever seen. You give him a curt smile, and turn back around, knowing that a conversation with him is low on your list of priorities at the moment. 

You spend most of the next hour with Ty, laughing and discussing anything and everything that does not have to do with Greta Van Fleet. He’s a sweet guy and you can tell why Josh fell for him, with his ability to make everyone feel heard and wanted, so easily. 

You’re two drinks in when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your conversation with Ty. You turn to look at the person, but you can smell that it’s Jake, his cologne at the forefront of your mind. You feel him lean down to your ear, his breath on your neck. 

“I’d still like to talk tonight,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. 

You take a deep breath and try to center yourself. You turn fully to look at him, seeing that he is not nearly as mad as he seemed earlier, and you know you want to hear what he has to say. You want to hear his side of the story you’ve pieced together over the last week. You nod at him as your eyes meet his, and he nods back, stepping away to return to the bar already going over what he will likely say later.

— 

An hour later you find yourself in your hotel room, pacing as you anxiously wait to hear from Jake. He left the bar before you did, deciding to ride back with Ty and Josh after the others left. You took a shower and tidied up your room and still, you haven't heard from him, that is, until your phone buzzed on the dresser. 

Jake

1:47AM: What is your room number?

Shit! Okay. 

You

1:48AM: 407

You know it won't be long until he is knocking on the door, and your heart is beating hard in your chest. You try to slow your breathing and calm your heart rate before he gets here, but you know it's no use because it will spike again as soon as you see him. 

The knock echoes through the room and you make your way to the door, swallowing back your nerves. As you open the door you find him standing there with one hand in his sweats pocket, and the other gripping a CD. 

You look at it as he presents it to you, a smug smile on his face as you realize what it is. 

‘An Awesome Wave’.

“This is–”

“The album we listened to on the plane, yeah,” he finishes, smiling as he steps into your room. “Found it in a record shop the other day in London. Thought of you and that first time we talked on the plane.”

You both step further into the room, your heart already twisting at his sweet gesture. He thought of you. You sit on the edge of the bed as you stare at the CD in your hands. 

“Listen, I’m sorry you had to find out about Murph like that, I never meant for that to come out like that,” you offer, letting your eyes flick up to meet his as he stands in front of you. 

“Look, I came here to apologize to you, Y/N. Not the other way around. You said I’m not the only one with secrets, and I guess that’s true, but I am more interested in setting the story straight and finding out what secrets you seem to be privy to.”

JAKE POV

She holds your gaze for just a second as she leans forward, grabbing her phone from the dresser behind you. She takes a shaky breath as her thumb dances across the screen, obviously looking for something. Your heart starts to beat faster and faster as she searches for what she’s looking for, a million different suspicions of what it could be flying through your mind. 

Finally she turns her phone, showing you a screenshot of when Isla requested to follow her on Instagram. You feel your eyes grow as you breathe out a surprised “Oh.” 

Fuckkkkkkk. She found her. 

“Yeah. This was a while ago. I accepted her request tonight after the show. I know everything, Jake. I know about you and her. I know you’ve been lying to me this entire time,” she says bravely, gritting her jaw as she speaks. 

“Let me stop you there, Y/N. Please…” you beg, preparing yourself to finally lay everything out on the line. The time had come. You take a deep breath as you readjust your seat. “Where do I even fucking begin?” you ask rhetorically. 

“If I were you, I’d start at the beginning,” she suggests firmly. 

“Alright, okay, yeah…” you agree, doing your best to find the courage. “Her name is Isla Whitman. And… Yes, she still lives in my home. Isla and I had been together for a long, long time. She was there when everything skyrocketed with the band, right when everything started to take off. She moved in with me, life was going good. She uh… things were great, obviously, as I’m sure you’ve seen from the photos…” you say, motioning to her phone. “We were really good for a long time, I was really happy…”

“But then uh, but then things started to go south. Like really, really badly.” You wipe a heavy hand across your face as you relive those terrible days again. “I started to realize that she wasn’t here for me anymore, that she was here for whatever status I held. Only here because of the success of the band and shit. Only wanted to be seen and be a part of things if it meant she would be photographed and noticed by our fans. It was weird shit, like the fame got to her, and she wasn’t the one even… anyways. She turned into a completely different person, almost overnight. Apparently, uh… it was a lot worse than I even realized, now that I’m kinda putting things into perspective, and Josh and Ty are agreeing with me. She used me. She used the hell out of me. Talked down to me all the time. Gaslit me. Made everything my fault. We got into terrible, horrible fights. All the time. I’m talking fights so bad that we both would throw things at the walls. There at the end, I started spending nights on Josh or Sam’s couch, I’d completely leave for days on end until she’d swindle me into coming back home, all for it to happen again. Over and over. It was…really fucking horrible, Y/N,” you recount, feeling a lump growing in your throat. 

“I uh, I tried to get her to move out multiple times, told her I was finished, I couldn’t do it anymore. Mentally, I was done months ago. Over it. Then the night before we left for Europe, we fought and cried until 4:00 in the morning, and our flight left at six. The only way I could get out the door was if I agreed to go on a “break”. Which I know now was a stupid fucking idea,” you go on. 

“My idea of a break was no contact, cut off completely, do our own things while she found another place to live, then when I got home, we could discuss things like rational adults and get things figured out maturely, but. Ever since we’ve been here, she’s done nothing but try to involve herself in my life even more so than she did when I was home,” you bite your cheeks in as your eyes glaze over, feeling that same gut sensation that keeps haunting you at the worst times. That guilt creeping back up again and again. 

“My intention was never to hurt you, or harm you in any way at all, Y/N. Please know that. I left Nashville thinking I was practically a free man, finally. Ready to relax and disconnect while we worked. And I never intended to find you. And I never intended to… fall for you…like I did,” you explain, looking up to her with cautious eyes. “You completely blindsided me. Made me feel emotions that I hadn’t felt in years, Y/N. I should have told you from the beginning. I know I should have. That is the one thing that I regret completely and totally. I should have been upfront with you about it all. But, I was scared of fucking it up, you know? Scared you knowing about her would push you away. And now… I guess it blew up in my face even more than I thought it would…backfired completely.” You shake your head as you exhale a deep breath, letting a silence fall between the two of you. 

“I understand, Jake,” she finally whispers. “I really do…”

“Really? You do?”

“Mhmm. I get how hard that must have been. Especially since you had no idea it was even happening for so long,” she explains. You nod your head in agreement. “Feels fucking stupid now, I should have picked up on it.” 

“But she still lives with you. Still thinks you’re hers…” she reiterates. 

“Yes. Well, I guess? She still calls constantly, still texts me incessantly–”

“Was that who was calling the night we… ya know…”

You face reddens at the memory of that first night you hooked up, when you couldn’t even fucking perform for her. You nod. “Yeah. Well, her and my techs. It was a whole thing.”

“God…” she says, standing from the bed and shaking her hands out by her sides. She starts pacing the room and running her hands through her hair. “I feel so stupid…”

“You feel stupid?! Y/N, I am the idiot, here, not you…” you argue, standing from the bed as well. “I’m the one that fucked everything up and probably lost you completely.”

She stops and rolls her eyes at you, tears poking from the corners of them. “I should have… I should have asked you if you had someone, Jake. I should have gotten to know you better…” she starts to cry. “That’s like, girl rule #1.”

“Noooo no no, please don’t cry, Y/N…” you rush to her, gently placing your hands on the undersides of her elbows as she crosses them protectively across her chest. 

She runs a hand under her eye as she wipes a falling tear away. She scoffs at herself.

“No, Y/N. That was my fault. We kinda just…happened, you know? Our lust got the best of us,” you laugh a little at the memory of sneaking her into the bathroom that night at the bar.

“My suspicions kinda drove me away, ya know? I knew something was up the night Sam came to your room, talking all that…” she says. “You hiding me in the fucking bathroom.”

“Yeah, yeah I figured as much. I should have told you right then and there, I’m so sorry,” you plead. 

“I’m not gonna lie, Jake, my trust is…”

“Probably fucking shattered, isn’t it?” you ask, feeling a bottomless feeling in your chest. Like the whole situation has no happy ending, because how could it? Everything is fucked. 

She shrugs, looking past you at nothing. “I don’t know.” She walks slowly and sits back on the bed. “And Mia and Lyla? They–”

“Lyla is Isla’s best friend, yes. So of course Mia is pulled into that, as well. And, of course they are praying on my downfall. They don’t know my side of the story,” you explain, suddenly realizing that at the same time, Y/N doesn’t know Isla’s side of this story. You hope that she takes your’s in stride. 

“Great, great. Cool,” she complains. “Now they hate me, too.”

“No, I’m not gonna let that happen. I told Lyla to come and speak with me directly if she wanted the full, true story. We’ll get that sorted out, don’t worry,” you explain. “No one hates you.”

“You aren’t mad at me for… with Murph?” she asks. 

Ah, fuck. 

“Shit, I mean… I’m not mad, I don’t guess. I’m… I guess I’m blindsided with that, too,” you know you can’t explain how you feel, because you truly haven’t had time to even process it yet. “I pushed you away, I get that. Fuck, we hardly spoke for a week. Of course you wanted nothing to do with me. Then Isla goes and adds you on social media…? I mean. Fuck, I get it. Murph is… a cool guy…” you have trouble admitting it. 

“It’s not that serious, Jake,” she says, almost a whimper. “He and I, we just… clicked.”

Her words almost cut you in half. You thought she clicked with you. 

“I get that,” you choke, as much as you hate to say it, you have hardly any dog left in this fight. “Listen, the bottom line is, I know I fucked up. Royally. I wouldn’t blame you if you never want to speak to me again. I don’t blame you for running away from me. But… I swear to god, Y/N, I would fight for you to the end of my days… You gave me something that I haven’t had in so long, I hardly remembered how it felt to be happy. You gave me excitement, and energy, and… you showed me that even though my life was absolute shit, it didn’t have to be that way. You showed me happiness, Y/N. I can’t ask for more than that. And if you ever give me another chance, I know I’d spend all my time repaying you for just that little bit of happiness you gave me, because it was one of the best times of my entire life.” You let out another shaky, huffed breath, fighting back tears, yourself.

Her eyes begin to well again, and you even work the tiniest smile from her. She licks her lips, rubbing them together. “Might take me some time, Jake. I don’t–”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight. I just don’t want you to hate me.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t hate you…”

She relaxes back against the fluffy pillows on her bed, her eyes obviously becoming heavy. 

“Can we agree to start fresh? As friends? Forget about all the stupid shit?” you extend your hand out for her to shake, praying that if she could just give you this….

She takes it gently, clicking her tongue. “My intuition is telling me not to, but. I don’t see anything wrong with starting fresh… Honesty. From here on out.” She shakes it with a little firmness at the conclusion of her sentence. 

“Good. Yes. Perfect, even. I promise,” you say with a little added sugar in your words. “Please just understand that my… relationship at home is anything but. She’s… so far gone from my mind I can’t even explain it to you. My number one priority is finding her somewhere else to live when we get home.”

She nods again. “That’s really none of my business, Jake.”

“Yes it is, Y/N. We’re friends now, remember?” you give her a sexy side smile, knowing that just having her in your life again would be enough, for now. “Thank you… for hearing me out.”

“Thank you for explaining. If only you’d have done that weeks ago…” she rolls her eyes playfully. 

“I know, I know, shit,” you taunt, rising from the bed again. As she walks you to the door, you find yourself fighting off the urge to pull her in, still sobbing a little from earlier. You want to feel her touch again, feel her body against yours and kiss away the saltiness of her tears. But you can’t do that anymore. 

When she opens the door and you approach the threshold, you turn back to her, letting your hand push a strand of fallen hair from her eye. “I still want you in my life, Y/N. You’re too good to let go, I don’t wanna let you go…You’ve still got me…” you say through a whisper, feeling boldness rising in your chest.

She smiles and leans her head into the touch of your hand, but she brushes it away quickly. “Go to bed, Jake.” 

You give her one last knowing look, holding her stare for just a second too long, hoping that one last ditch effort to keep you on her mind would be enough to truly start things fresh. 

Lord knows you’d do anything to get her back again.

—

HER POV

When morning comes it feels different. A weight has been lifted from your shoulders and the day doesn’t seem so daunting. You are glad that you and Jake finally talked things through, though you wish it would have happened weeks ago when you could have stopped all this from happening in the first place. 

You quickly dress and pack your suitcase, knowing that van call is approaching quickly and that everyone will be assembling down in the lobby before you know it. You feel happy with your appearance as you make your way to the elevator, pushing the button and waiting as it climbs to your floor. As the doors spring open, you see none other than Murph waiting inside with his suitcase. 

“Well good morning,” he smiles, motioning for you to join him inside. 

“Good morning,” you answer, rolling your suitcase in behind you.

“Did you have a good evening?” he asks, adjusting his hat. 

“It was alright,” you answer truthfully. “You excited to head to Manchester?” 

“Think I’m more excited for Glasgow if I’m honest with you,” he smirks, pressing the button to close the doors. 

“Can’t imagine why,” you wink, feeling the elevator start to move toward the lobby, singing the ‘Da da da da da’s’ of ‘Howlin’ For You’.

The doors spring open and you step out onto the cobblestone lobby floor, your suitcase bumping along behind you. As you turn the corner you see your group huddled up together talking quietly. They’re standing awkwardly, seeming more out of sorts than normal. It’s then you lay eyes on the auburn haired girl you studied in great detail just last night, as she stands hand in hand with Jake.

Isla. 

In a tizzy of nerves, you turn to talk to Murph, only to find that he has walked away to meet with Dean and his own group. You’re alone and you have to face this. You swallow back your nerve and decide that you will walk over to the group with your head held high, ready to meet the girl Jake swore up and down he was done with. 

As she stands beside him. 

Holding his fucking hand. 

“Y/N!” Paul shouts, grabbing your attention as he stands next to Ty. Everyone's heads turn to look at you, including Jake’s and you feel frozen in place. His face is solemn, with a hint of guilt hiding in his brown eyes. 

You step up to the small circle of people, pretending that nothing is wrong, smiling and greeting everyone with a bright and bubbly smile. If you’re going to do anything, you’re going to make your first impression on Isla one that she won’t soon forget. Your eyes flick over to Ty who is silently telling you that you will definitely be talking later. Josh’s eyes meet yours next, sad and defeated as he stands next to her, showing his obvious feelings towards the situation you've found yourselves in. 

Jake looks clearly burdened, like a lifeless shell standing there as his face is vacant of any loving emotion whatsoever. His movements are aimless, his posture slouched. And for a split second, you actually feel sorry for him. 

Until you regain your clarity, opting to stay on the clueless side of this very obviously two-sided party. 

The lying fucking son of a bitch. 

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Lyla says cheerfully, “So glad we caught you, I just wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Isla, Jake’s girlfriend!”

Isla extends her hand to you, dropping Jake’s at his side. You can feel her laser sharp eyes digging through your skull, her glare almost enough to knock you over. Your eyes meet Jake’s, looking sad and withdrawn before you look back at Isla, and grasp her hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

She shakes your hand weakly before dropping hers to her side, falling into Jake’s shoulder to stake her claim. His face goes stark white. 

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she coos. “I have heard all about you.”

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[pastafossa]

Hi, let's talk gatekeeping fanfic. First, if you bully teenage girls out of the fandom for writing like teenagers who're still learning, you are a terrible person. Because you were that teenager. I get some of us fic writers like to pretend we came out of the womb clutching a bloody, sticky 250k word in-depth character study fic that would rank in the top ten most kudos'd fics in the fandom ever if only our eyeballs and coordination were developed enough to transfer it to a screen, but that's a massive pile of horseshit, and you know it. You wrote with mashed paragraphs and mispellings and clunky dialogue. You used the same tropes you like to mock young writers for. So maybe have a flashback and then chill.

And just in case you don't care about that, you're also literally shooting yourself in the face, because a TON of writers (which often includes you) generally follow this trend:

Get excited about a character or fandom when you're younger and/or not a Leveled Up Writer yet

Decide to try writing fanfic for the first time

Bang something out and excitedly post it

Either get good or helpful/encouraging reactions that make you want to keep keep writing, or you get a bunch of sneering comments about teenagers by grownass gatekeepers who, for some reason, feel smug about mocking excited novices who're trying to write a fun story, thus chasing you away from writing.

And there's where you fuck yourself over if you pick the shit-covered Door #2. Because a writer can't improve unless they write. Oh, you might not see the effect immediately, but after a few years, the fanfic scene will die down as writers move on to less toxic spaces (or give up entirely). And you will have no one to fill the void. YOU are the reason you'll get less fic. Imagine mocking and making fun of a new piano player whose first song on piano is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. "Ugh, I hate this basic teenage crap, are you just banging on keys? Come back when you can play Moonlight Sonata."

I literally do not give one single shit if you 'approve' of some teenager's (or adult's!) fic. If they're happy creating the equivalent of a cake with a stick figure design, that's awesome cause they made themselves a cake they enjoy. Alternatively, they're practicing making cake and no cake is perfect the first time, unless you learn something, in which case it's served its purpose and is a great cake due to fulfilling that purpose.

Tell you what - you want to gatekeep? Here's who you can gatekeep in fanfic:

Plagiarists.

There. Go nuts.

And if you're a novice writer, be it teenager or adult, deciding to try writing fic for the first time, please, please don't let them tear you down. Please don't stop writing. Don't stop learning. Don't stop creating. Don't stop being so filled with love for a story and its characters that you have to create just so you can breathe a little easier without your words and story filling up all that space around your lungs. I promise you, I promise, that every single writer you love has been at where you're at now, and the only reason they write like they do now is that they kept going, kept trying, kept writing. People will talk about talent but it plays a far smaller role than you think - this is 90% practice. And that means you can learn this.

You can do this.

So do it.

[rowanwritestoomuch]

How to Take Advice On Writing

It may seem completely sensical that advice presented by successful authors is good advice on writing. I am here to tell you the truth---

It is not.

Advice on writing is completely subjective. Successful authors are often successful because of the strength of their voice, the ability of their stylistic choices and accomplishment within the language that they are writing in. It is not how they wrote their book, or the choices they made for the text, which makes a successful author. It is the skill in which they wrote it.

Skill can be terrible and still be recognizable. Colleen Hoover for example seems to be highly skillful at enthralling the reader despite having little to no artistry within the body of her writing voice and some poor stylistic choices (see; 'we both laughed at our son's big balls'). But her work does seem to hold a compelling note that has pushed her to the top of the market-- and that is a skill, which is obtained through practice and education, not advice that can be given or taken.

You cannot gain skills through emulating others, you can gain them through practice and focus. If any advice should be taken from other authors it is that you should become proficent in the language you are writing in. Grammer is important, literary styles and archetypes are universal and should be understood, punctuation should be comprehensible. You cannot bend or break the rules to give birth to your writer's voice if you do not understand them in the first place. Fall in love not only with the art of writing but too with the act of it. Study literature and how to create it just as closely as you research niche topics of interest for building your characters or world.

Many people ask how I have written Frisson so fast; 67K published words in 35 days and over 200K scripted. I type at 160 WPM. That's literally the only reason, my fingers are sore but they can move as fast as my mind and many authors find themselves far ahead of what they are writing. I believe this may be a lack in typing skill. I often brush up on my skills, using school-age programs that teach typing to children or tools that rate typing for careers, to make sure that I am remaining capable to create the words as fast as I can think them. I got this skill from playing online MMOs, so consider removing your microphone every once in a while and see how well you can keep up with your teammates in the live chat.

Beyond that, in order to develop your voice, you must not confine yourself to the rules of others. I often followed my mentor's advice of 'only use dialogue when needed'. Now I find myself writing scenes entrenched entirely within the dialogue and using the subtly of vaguery to entice my reader instead of making my characters painfully self aware. Often our lives exist so entirely within the confines of a conversation, memories and photographs all invoke the response of words said, and I would never have noticed how important dialogue was to my writing voice if I had followed that advice which suited the writing style of my mentor so well.

I see many people sharing the rules that other writers have lived by. If we all went the way of 'write drunk, edit sober' such as Hemmingway did, we would simply perish from alcoholism, not create art. It worked for him (debatable, but the point made), it does not need to work for you. Create your own rules for prose once you understand the general idea of prose. Do play with the techniques of others, but do not integrate them as if they are laws that have to be followed regardless of context.

You can create new words. You can use fifteen commas in a row (I personally believe that prose, like a song, can hold the reader in suspence until the period releases them). You can create a brick of text that the reader must get lost in or you can quadruple space for extra effect. You can aliterate in any way you want (often we get hung up on repeated mundane words, but what if you did it with purpose, to create a sound, to create a feeling, to haunt them or enliven them. You choose). You can have your charaters talk for an hour, give a monologue, say nothing at all. You, yourself, the writer, can speak to the reader through the fourth wall if you do it right.

Finding your voice is the hardest part. No one can teach you how to find it. If you follow the rules of other's voices, you will only suceed in being a ghost of them, and there is merit in that too, ghostwriters are incredible people of great skill in their own, however if you wish to obtain a song that is unique only to you; my advice is to become skillful, so that every tool you could ever possibly have is available to you. And then, just write. Write until you can hear yourself speaking the words back to you. Get lost in it, find yourself.

And don't ever let anyone tell you that you can't become skillful. I grew up in a home of povertous rednecks with no desire for the literary arts and an extreme case of dyslexia that prevented me from even learning to read until I was 10 years old. Anyone can become skillful in anything if they have the passion for it, and you need not even a book or a learning partner to learn how to use words, as they are rife in the world around us. Just go out and seek them.

And always, always, always remember, write because it hurts if you don't.

til next time.

[yippeeometer]

itty bitty little northeast hcs bc the asks r dry :(((

they are NOT fun cool life of the party they are SAD GAY LOSERS i do feel this should be broadcast on national tv to confirm the canonness.

that being said. one family dinner with them is actually illegal under the geneva convention due to high level of mental torture.

things start off lovely. they go to maine's little cabin-in-the-woods (STEPHEN KING MY FRIENDS, ITS NOT COTTAGE VIBES!). he will make you wait outside if you are late. he locks the doors and laughs.

unfortuantely, they will not be within five feet of each other during baseball season, under a rule so important gov considers adding it to the constitution.

it is like a grandpa convention lets not lie to ourselves bc there's definitely a part in the night where they just reminisce about the war and vermont will show up with printed-out pictures of some battle monument model he made bc even maine's terrible signal wont stop him.

they have to get new york there by physical force, bc he is doing his level best to sneak his way out. sorry its shabbat (it's actually a tuesday). sorry lost my voice can't come (he's only over said 10 words max). sorry been hit by a car (typa guy to genuinely try and walk off a broken leg).

they have to battle not to bring up politics ooohhh because you know mass's eye is twitching at the thought of being able to debate. connecticut threatens to report him to the authorities as a communist threat. he threatens to throw him through the wall. this is normal sibling behaviour.

typa emotional repression where they'll just be arguing and bickering as normal when one of them will drop the most gut-wrenching sickening personal lore and they all will just refuse to mention it.

oooooohhh yk its got a kick to it when ur sat across from someone who literally took bllets for you telling you ab how life is collapsing around them. anyways new hammy made a salad w craisins and we better switch the topic to that.

speaking of. half of the food is completely inedible. rhode island spent so many years a pirate he has no idea how much salt is too much salt. you CAN eat delaware's food but also be aware he's known for chemical manufacturing so its a 50/50 chance you'll make it.

jersey and york, arguably the only two good cooks, are not allowed to bring food bc they unfortunately suffer from chronic cant-understand-our-families-r-from-different-italian-regions-and-food-might-be-different syndrome.

for some inexplicable reason PA becomes group DJ. the only songs on his phone are 'brand new city' by mitski and 'dont stop the party' by pitbull.

[vivalas-vega]

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part three

things are happening !!!! jupiter meets the gang !!! things are starting to line up but I just hope they can make it work...

drops of jupiter is literally her and jake’s song, I don’t make the rules I just enforce ‘em. as always lmk what you think and if you want to be added to the taglist!

new perspectives / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part three

add yourself to my taglist

prologue - one - two

word count: 4.4k

warnings: language, drinking, a smidge of jealousy, a very cheesy moment at the piano but I could not help myself

The days were passing by in a blur, a monotonous blend of the same thing day after day… You were fighting to stay focused but a few days of mild cases and routine patients had you double and triple checking each chart before entering a room to make sure you were keeping everybody straight. You were officially entering the lull period of your residency where attendings gave you a long leash and let you take the lead, and you were even getting out of work at a decent hour which allowed you to start up a workplace romance with the hospital's forensic pathologist. You’d met him in the bar a few weeks ago and he didn’t take offense to the fact that you didn’t call him by his name, which was Blake, but rather Dr. Death, and he simply thought it was cute when you said he was the reaper and forced him back down to the basement anytime he tried to visit you during the day for fear his energy would affect your patients and send them circling down the drain. At first you’d tried to find something wrong with him, like really truly searched for red flags but there just weren’t any. 

He was supportive and encouraging, definitely wasn’t hard on the eyes, and was endlessly understanding of your work schedule because he endured the same difficulties. You’d sneak out of the hospital late at night and go to that 24 hour diner a few blocks away where you would load up on fries and milkshakes, meet for lunch over soggy cafeteria pizza and surprise each other with a cup of coffee when you could. He waited until the third date to take you home and for some reason you’d hoped he would be terrible in bed because then at least you would have a reason to call the whole thing off but he wasn’t and all of your friends got along with him if they overlooked the fact that you were slumming it with a basement dweller… a fact that never went unchecked by either of you with the reminder that he did in fact go to medical school like the rest of you. 

He was good, and you were seemingly happy yet you couldn’t really figure out why you hadn’t told Jake about him… you’d been seeing each other for two months now (you wouldn’t go far as to say you were in a relationship yet) and it was something you had chosen to leave out of every facetime or phone call. It just never felt like the right moment, talking about your dating lives was really the only thing you two struggled with, it always felt awkward and in a way you felt like you were cheating on Jake. Logically you knew you weren’t, logically you knew (through Coyote) that he was a bit of a ladies man and made his rounds wherever he was stationed that month but it just wasn’t something you ever talked about. Which was why as you sat in the Chief of Surgery’s office early one morning you felt a pit develop in your stomach when he let you know you’d be headed to San Diego for the day.

“UCSD got your fellowship application and they were very impressed… I spoke with their Chief and they’re requesting you for the day, I reckon they’re about to woo you,” he chuckled. “You’ll take the hospital’s charter and return tomorrow evening, you leave in an hour,” he said and you just stared at him in shock.

“Woo me, sir?” you asked and he nodded.

“You’ll spend the day in their facilities, get the lay of the land and meet the Head of Trauma, they’ll likely let you scrub in on something cool… they’re putting you up in a nice hotel in Coronado on the beach and giving you tomorrow to explore the city, likely in hopes of you falling in love with the San Diego lifestyle,” he said and you were still looking at him skeptically. “This is the part where all of your hard work starts paying off, Jupiter. This isn’t going to be the first hospital that tries to get your attention but they’re certainly hoping to be the last,” he said.

“But sir, I have patients… I’m supposed to take Mrs. Murphy in for her-”

“You’ll still have patients when you get back, go… maybe have a little bit of fun,” he said with a smile and you nodded as you left his office. Having fun wasn’t something you really did often, your life existed within the walls of this hospital. For you, fun was cutting people open and maybe you could constitute what you were doing with Blake as fun but you really thought of it as more of a time filler.

And they’d done exactly what he said they would… you were given a tour of the hospital by an overly eager resident (who had a million questions for you about the clinical trial you’d worked on with your Head of Neuro during your second year) and you learned cutting edge trauma techniques during a GSW surgery that you’d only read about in medical journals all before they sent you packing while the sun was still out to get settled in your hotel and see everything San Diego had to offer you. Jake was still here, he’d returned from his mission a few weeks ago and there was talk about keeping him and all the other pilots that were recalled for the detachment here permanently as a squadron while teaching new recruits at Top Gun. You changed out of the scrubs you’d been wearing since Boston and showered, throwing on a sundress and sandals before walking out of your hotel and strolling along the beach… Following your phone's maps you knew you were only a few minutes away from the bar where Jake told you he spent most of his time nowadays and you dialed his contact, hoping he was around and not up in the air somewhere.

“Hey angel, perfect timing. I just got to the bar, man it was a crazy day at work today,” he said and you could hear the chatter in the background as he greeted Penny and ordered a beer.

“Yeah? Tell me all about it,” you said and you listened as he went on about a new recruit who reminded him a lot of himself but not in a good way, mentioning something about almost losing total control of his jet and taking Phoenix out and you shuddered as you imagined it, stopping right in front of the entrance and taking a deep breath. “Hey, what was the name of that bar you’re always at?” you asked, a soft smirk playing on your lips as you walked in and recognized the group of pilots around the pool table from the photos he sent you.

“The Hard Deck, why?” he asked as you made your way through while praying you weren’t in his line of sight and you saw him leaning against the bar with his back to you and you leaned against a beam a few feet away.

“Huh, that’s weird… I just walked into a bar called the Hard Deck, must be a coincidence,” you said, doing your best to sound nonchalant.

“The Hard Deck? In Boston? That doesn’t make any… are you fucking with me?” he asked and you stifled a laugh.

“I don’t think so? Yeah, there’s this red neon sign out front, a lot of coffee cups hanging from the ceiling which is an interesting design choice,” you said as you watched his head tilt upwards, “a lot of people in khaki. Actually… there’s this guy at the bar wearing the hell out of a khaki uniform that I think might be cute but I can’t really tell, he’s got his back to me… do you think I should make a move?” you asked and he turned around slowly as if he was in a horror movie expecting the killer to be right behind him and you were worried his face was going to split in half from how wide he smiled when he spotted you. He was crossing the distance in an instant, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off the ground as you giggled.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked, squeezing you tight. 

“I was at UCSD for the day getting the star treatment,” you said a touch dramatically as you threw your hair over your shoulder. “Thought I’d surprise you.” 

“Well I am certainly surprised, what do you want to drink?” he asked and you shook your head.

“In a minute, I’m quite liking this surprising people thing…” you said, walking over to the pool table where Coyote was so thoroughly invested in the shot he was lining up he didn’t even notice you.

“What’s a girl gotta do to get a drink around here?” you sighed, leaning against the edge of the table and ignoring the confused looks from the other pilots… 

“Well, give me a moment here darling… I’d be happy to oblige once I win this game,” he replied and you chuckled at the suave voice he’d put on to try and impress you, still not realizing who you were. “Holy shit, Jupiter?” he said after he sank his shot and you laughed as he pulled you in for a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d come see what all this Top Gun nonsense was about,” you replied and he brought his hands up to cup your face and squish your cheeks.

“It’s been far too long, what are you drinking?” he asked, already halfway to the bar and you called out beer after him. 

“The Jupiter?” the dark haired woman you recognized as Phoenix said, sticking out her hand and introducing herself. “Those two talk about you so often I honestly thought you were a myth at this point.” 

“I’ve heard a lot about you too… thank you for keeping this one’s ego in check,” you said with a laugh as you gestured to Jake and he just rolled his eyes at you.

“Someone has to,” she muttered before going around and introducing you to everyone else and you smiled as they all eagerly hugged you, seemingly you were already a part of the family with how often Jake and Coyote mentioned you. “Rooster’s around here somewhere, you’ll meet him eventually.” 

“Okay, tell me all about UCSD,” Jake said, directing you to a chair and you filled him in on all the details… maybe leaving out a few about the surgery at first but Bob had appeared out of nowhere and expressed an interest in the gory details which you were happy to share, and Jake took that opportunity to excuse himself when Coyote brought you your drink and challenged him to a round of pool. His friends were great, they asked a lot of questions and hung onto your every word when you answered and they were thrilled to tell you all about their lives as pilots.

“This could be good for you two,” Phoenix said when the two of you found yourselves alone standing by the window overlooking the beach, “did Hangman tell you we might be getting permanent stations?”

“He mentioned it, but definitely downplayed it,” you answered and she nodded.

“It’s looking more like a serious possibility now,” she said and your eyes brightened, “this is the best squad I’ve ever been a part of… if you overlook half of what Hangman says,” she said and you chuckled. “Turns out the bigwigs feel the same and want us to instruct at Top Gun permanently in between deployments.” You tried to temper your excitement.

“I’m sure you’re all loving that idea… might be nice to officially call someplace home,” you mused.

“We’re all excited… besides, the last mission really bonded us, I don’t know if I could just go back to my old squad after that.”

“He didn’t tell me much, assumed he couldn’t, but from what I hear it looked like a few of you weren’t going to make it back for a minute?” 

She nodded, “Rooster and Maverick, Hangman is actually the one who went after them and saved them,” she said and you turned to look at her with wide eyes. “Disobeyed orders too, surprised the hell out of all of us. He’s a jackass but if you ignore all the bravado he’s kind of a good guy,” she said, “but don’t tell him I said that.”

“Your secrets safe with me,” you chuckled before excusing yourself to grab another drink. You knew from Coyote that Jake had a bit of a rough exterior when it came to work and was often off putting to a lot of other pilots and you were happy to see that he was finding a place here, dropping some of the ego and making real connections. You met Penny who gave you your next round on the house despite how you tried to protest and just as you were about to rejoin the group you came face-to-face with a tall redhead who had an annoyed expression on her face.

“You’re Jupiter?” she asked and when you nodded tentatively you could have sworn she scoffed. “Look, I’m just going to be blunt… Do I need to be worried about you and Hangman?” she asked and you were truthfully stunned and glanced at Penny who gave you a look that seemed to say tread lightly. 

“I’m sorry, you are?” you asked.

“Hannah, he and I are kinda…” she trailed off and you nodded in understanding. You looked her over once more and felt your heart twist as you did, if you looked past her somewhat aggressive disposition she was absolutely stunning. 

“Got it, no you have nothing to worry about… just childhood friends, I’m actually seeing someone back home,” you offered, hoping it would appease her and it seemed to because she disappeared back to her friends and you shook your head in disbelief, tossing back the tequila and smiling at Penny who was already pouring you another. “Thank you,” you said.

“No problem… that happens all the time, there’s always some kind of turf war happening in this bar over the pilots… especially Hangman,” she said and you nodded softly as she went to serve other customers. This shouldn’t hurt, you knew this already but it didn’t do anything to ease the sting or stop the nauseous feeling that took hold in your stomach.

“You’re seeing someone?” You heard Jake ask from behind you and you turned to meet his eyes, letting out a sigh as you did so.

“Kind of? It’s not serious,” you shrugged and really it wasn’t a lie… you weren’t exclusive with Blake, you knew he might want to get there eventually but you weren’t yet. “Didn’t know you were seeing someone,” you added.

“Kind of… it’s not serious,” he repeated your words and you nodded, taking your next shot and looking over to Coyote.

“Your pool partner is beckoning you,” you said and he looked you over, trying to decipher if you were mad or not but he couldn’t tell and honestly neither could you. You had no room to be jealous, you were doing the exact same thing he was. Maybe you were jealous that he wasn’t confronted with it, Blake was just an idea all the way across the country while Hannah was just a few yards away shooting daggers in your direction… you nodded encouragingly, silently telling him to go back to his pool game and you watched as he did so as you leaned against the bar. 

The rest of the group was smiling and laughing, playing darts or engaged in conversation and you thought about how easy it would be if you could just slip in here… you knew you still had to entertain the offers from other hospitals but choosing San Diego just seemed natural and obvious. Your ears perked up as you heard the jukebox suddenly cut out and the sounds of someone tinkering with the keys of the piano and you followed the noise to the end of the bar where you saw a man with a questionable mustache and a rather loud Hawaiian shirt sitting. “You must be Rooster,” you observed and he looked up at you slightly.

“You must be Jupiter,” he shot back, “the girl who has captured everyone’s attention tonight,” he said as you smiled and leaned against the piano.

“I have a tendency to do that,” you chuckled, listening as he switched gears and you recognized the opening notes of Drops of Jupiter, and you let out a loud laugh. “Oh, don’t do it...” you said, trailing off and he just smirked at you, one that you were sure had reeled in a lot of girls before, and it even would have worked on you if you didn’t have Jake to worry about on the other side of the bar.

“Now that she’s back in the atmosphere with drops of Jupiter in her hair,” he started singing and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as he looked up at you with mischief in his eyes, nudging your leg with his and encouraging you to join in but you just shook your head. “Come on, don’t leave me hanging,” he said before starting the chorus and you begrudgingly sang along with him, maybe a little out of key but it didn’t seem to matter. The rest of the bar had started to move towards the piano and you had an inkling that this was a regular occurrence in this bar. Rooster seemed to have this natural pull to him, almost like gravity as your new friends circled around you and joined in.

But tell me, did you sail across the sun? Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded, and that heaven is overrated? And tell me, did you fall for a shooting star? One without a permanent scar and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

Across the bar Jake was watching you with an unreadable expression on his face as you danced and sang with his friends, and while you were lost in the moment as you lead the bar in song with Rooster he was abandoning his conversation with Hannah mid-sentence and walking towards you on no accord of his own… you had your own gravitational pull, and when you met his eyes he felt like nothing else in the world truly mattered. Not when you looked that beautiful, not when you and Rooster had the whole bar eating out of the palms of your hands. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, and you couldn’t take your eyes off him as he leaned against a beam and smiled that classically Jake smile at you. When you looked away it was to laugh with Phoenix as Rooster really played up the moment and put his whole heart and soul into it and you thought to yourself that this was what you wanted.

Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken? Your best friend always sticking up for you, even when I know you’re wrong? Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance, five hour phone conversation, the best soy latte that you ever had and me?

These were the moments that you were missing… and it wasn’t because you didn’t have the time back home, you could make it if you wanted to. It was because you never felt like you could truly let go of yourself until Jake was around, you didn’t know how to relinquish control and go with the flow unless you were in his orbit, knowing that he was watching over you and these were the moments you craved. You wanted more nights in this bar, with these friends and with those green eyes watching you.

But tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet? Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day, and head back toward the Milky Way? And tell me, did you sail across the sun? Did you make it to the Milky Way to see the lights all faded, and that heaven is overrated? And tell me, did you fall for a shooting star? One without a permanent scar and then you miss me while you were looking for yourself?

The bar was trying to stay in time with Rooster as he ad-libbed the ending but truthfully it was just chaos as you danced with Phoenix and laughed with Coyote as somewhere Bob was recording the whole thing. You wrapped your arms around Rooster’s shoulders as he finished and placed a kiss to his cheek, “thank you,” you whispered into his ear and he nodded after giving your arm a squeeze. You lifted your head to see Jake still looking at you and you made your way through the throng of people, giving him a look that said are you coming? as you slipped out the doors. You kicked your shoes off and set them beside one of the picnic benches before walking out into the sand and you heard the bar doors open and shut behind you… you didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked and you chuckled.

“I didn’t fly all the way across the country to not get my feet wet,” you answered, turning around to face him as you continued walking backwards. “Gonna join me?” you asked before running towards the water and he just watched for a moment.

“Ah, hell,” he muttered, pulling his boots off and abandoning them in the sand as he rolled his khakis up as high as they would go and chased after you. The water was biting on your ankles and you laughed as Jake caught up and wrapped your arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground.

Inside the bar the jukebox had been turned back on and the group had gone back to their usual spots before catching a glimpse of the two of you out there splashing around in the water and laughing under the moonlight and soon they were crowded around the window to watch.

“You mean to tell me that’s Hangman out there?” Payback asked in disbelief.

“Can you blame him?” Rooster asked, “if she wasn’t the Jupiter I’d be doing anything I could to get her to look at me like that,” he said, overlooking you beam up at Jake.

“The real question here is how are they not together?” Phoenix asked and Coyote shrugged.

“They were a long time ago… They broke up before college because they knew it was going to be impossible to stay together.”

“What a load of shit, they are so in love,” she replied with a faux-gag and Hannah scoffed behind them, coming to see what they were all looking at.

“I knew it,” she muttered and Phoenix shot her a glare.

“Just go home already,” she said exasperatedly and the boys all stifled their laughter.

“Oh come on, you guys are shameless,” Bob said as he returned from the bathroom. “Let them have their moment.” 

“I’m sorry about Hannah,” Jake said as you settled in the sand and you just shrugged.

“It’s okay… I’m sorry about Blake,” you replied and he shook his head.

“I want you to be happy.”

“I want you to be happy, too,” you said, turning your head to face him.

“Are you?” he asked and you pondered this for a moment. 

“I don’t know… I’m happy right now,” you offered and he nodded. “I really like it here… and you might be stationed here permanently?” 

He sighed, “maybe… I don’t want you making any career decisions on my behalf,” he said and you looked back to the water.

“I know.” It fell silent between you two as you both watched the waves. You really were happy right now, you’d known the other pilots officially for a handful of hours but you felt like you were better friends with them than Holly or anyone else back in Boston… you’d come out of your shell and you felt like you were at home. You knew he was going to encourage you to at least hear out any other offers from other hospitals, and you knew that you should but you just didn’t want to. Even if Hannah was someone permanent and even if you didn’t really know where the two of you stood you wanted to be here. “Would it be such a bad thing if I did choose San Diego because of you?” you finally asked.

“I don’t know… I just don’t want you missing out on other opportunities,” he answered.

“They made me a really good offer,” you said, turning to look at him and he raised his eyebrows questioningly. “The salary is way above a standard fellows, they basically greenlit my rural health initiative, and offered to cover my relocation costs, a mortgage allowance and to absorb all of my loans,” you said and his eyes widened. “Even if I consider other hospitals all they’ll be able to do is try and match that, and it’s a really good hospital… you being here is just kind of the final thing that makes it perfect.”

“If you took me out of the equation and another hospital offered you the same, would you take it?”

You shrugged, “I don’t know. San Diego was my number one before I even knew you might be here permanently.” 

He nodded, “don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than for you to be here but I just want you to consider all of your options.”

“I know,” you said, refocusing on the water. “But I just don’t think making a decision because of you would be a bad thing.”

“I didn’t say-”

“You kind of did.” you cut him off, “and I get it… I wouldn’t want you doing the same for me but… Hannah? That sucked, and I know it didn’t feel good hearing me say I was seeing someone,” you said. “I just… I’m tired, Jake. I had more fun tonight than I’ve probably ever had, I can see myself living here and I just don’t want to have to justify that to you because you think I should keep my options open.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and you leaned into him. 

“Everything has been hard… the last ten years of my life have just been hard and I’m finally in a position where I can do something that would make everything so much easier so if that’s what I decide to do just… let me, okay?” 

“Okay,” he said, holding you tight as you let your eyes drift closed. “I’m really proud of you, Jupiter.”

“I know…” you said, twisting your neck to look up at him. “I’m really proud of you too...”

previous part / next part

taglist: @mamaskillerqueen @clancycucumber230 @the-romanian-is-bae @dempy @alldaysdreamers @zzsloth @emma8895eb @novagreen04 @classyunknownlover @olliepig @purplevortexx​ (if your username is struck through, it wouldn’t let me tag you -- sorry!)

[the-words-we-sung]

Thoughts and pictures - S3E2

Here we go for the rewatch of S3E2 (sorry in advance, it might get long ^^')

The new rules at Hillerska are pretty dumb and way too severe. And this phone policy is so stupid: how are these 2 horny boys supposed to survive? :p

So on one hand, online hate is about Simon not being good enough for Wilhelm, and on the other hand, it's about Wilhelm who should not have said anything in his speech because he's betraying the school. Though Wilhelm is not reading the online comments like Simon, and the attacks are less personal and vicious. Seeing Simon read through everything was so painful, I just wanted to go kick the ass of everyone who dared be a bully so this lil' muffin.

Gosh the third years are over the top: "three years here and we get nothing", just because they can't have a proper graduation and all the parties and stupid stuff they wanted to do before graduating? I guess that it's frustrating but compared to the real issues that are being raised about the school, it sounds very very superficial... August is way more reasonable than Vincent about it: the issue is not that they won't have a graduation (even if they don't have the party, they will still graduate high school) but that the school might close, thus sending them all to other schools before the end of the term. Vincent is an idiot.

"Why can't she call me?". Episode 2 and Wilhelm is already heartbroken because of his mother.

Farima doesn't believe Wilhelm about his initiation, look at her face! But it strikes me that her main concern if he did go through this awful initiation is that it would look bad for the Royal Court to keep him here, and not at all about his well being and how traumatizing it would have been!! The adults in this show are the worst... And nobody cares about Wilhelm (except Simon) 💔

"He's such an attention whore". Another ass that needs to be kicked!! How dare they talk about him like that?

Simon keeps being bullied and Wilhelm pressured: if they close the school, it'll be his fault. Why is everyone so mean and terrible to them?

The Felice interview makes me so mad!! And it reminds me of the interaction between August, Simon and Wilhelm back in season 1 when August tells them how nice it is that rowing bring students together, with no regard for their ethnicity, background, etc. Which made Simon super mad too. I love the switch from Felice in the office with her strained smile to her angrily throwing punches during gym class. Excellent cinematic!

Micke and Sara: I'm still so surprised to see him act so well.

This freaking blonde girl from the choir: I hate her 😡 She was the one slut shaming Felice in season 2. Now she's complaining about the point of training for a song if they're not sure they'll be performing. You're annoying and mean. I don't like you 😤

But Simon's face when Wilhelm joins the choir 💜💜

I love this little scene so much: they are just so cute and in love. Like you can feel how much they love each other: they're literally glued together, kissing and then just keeping their faces so so close to each other while talking. It just feels so true to life, when you love someone so much that you just want to stay as close as you can, just touching each other in any way you can, never letting go. Also I just love how Simon loves Wilhelm. How clingy he can be.

So the scene between Nils and August: we know that they were victims of this awful initiation but I'm realizing now that we don't know if they ended up being beaten up and made fun of because they got an erection? I've seen several posts of people discussing that August could be queer because he had a reaction to the porno (which I don't agree with, I don't think that it can be taken as an indicator of someone's sexual orientation). But we don't know if he had a reaction, do we? Or am I misunderstanding/missing something?

Wilhelm is so angry with August. Yeah his reaction in the library can be seen as a little over the top ("don't talk to him!") but I understand his anger. And okay, the way we go from the fight to both of them sitting silently in Boris' office is comedy gold :p I'm almost frustrated that the fight was so short though, I wanted Wilhelm to get some good punches in!! These mediation talks: I'm not sure how I feel about them. On one hand I get that the Court wants them to get along, but on the other, August did something truly awful and traumatizing to Wilhelm. So if he doesn't want to talk to him, to see him or to have anything to do with him anymore, well, it's his right! He shouldn't be forced to interact with him like that. Also I was a bit disappointed by Boris this season: he was so good during season 2 but I find him a bit underwhelming this season...

"I can be your revolution". Please can we get the song again in the last episode? The full version for a happy Wilmon who are a revolution together? Pretty please?

Simon giggling while reading the messages about his video is the cutest thing ever. And it's a tragedy that it was one of the only giggle we got from him this season 😫

Wilhelm is wearing a purple jumper when he listens to Simon's song. It's rare to see him wear purple, isn't it?

Linda still annoys me a bit this season. Like in this scene: no, don't ask your son, who's been betrayed so hard by his sister, to still care about her right now. He's angry at her, and rightfully so (I love love love that they let him be truly angry at her). She should understand that.

Rosh and Stella: yes please, I ship it! (Yeah I don't like Frederika so I'm all for a new potential love interest for Stella :p)

Also after 2 seasons where we regularly saw guys peeing outside, it's the girls' turn!! I don't know why but it made me laugh ^^

The conversation about their summer plans: this scene is so awkward!! And the tent scene that follows is just terrible 😭 Also hear me out: maybe unpopular opinion but I think Simon overreacted. Maybe from his point of view what Wilhelm is gonna do during summer is not working (because it's not the kind of job that him, Ayub and Rosh will have) but it's still working. Taking classes to become Prince/King is not gonna be a walk in the park, it's gonna be work for Wilhelm. It's terrible because I understand where Simon is coming from during their fight: telling Wilhelm that he never had to work to afford anything, that he's so incredibly privileged, it's so hard to be with someone who's from such a higher social status and be easily pissed off when they don't seem to realize it (what do you mean it sounds like I'm talking from experience.. 😅). Side eyeing Wilhelm hard with the shushing though. Don't talk to Simon like that >< (I would have stormed out if I had been Simon!) And yeah throwing the line about the settlement money was not nice (I've seen people being angry about it) but he's mad and got yelled at while he thought he was just trying to relate to and hang out with Simon's friends. So I understand throwing a mean comment there (I would have done the same 😣)

The "is it my fault?" breaks my heart. And so again: the crushing weight on Wilhelm's shoulders... His mother is unwell so he has to be strong, to be ready to take over, and on top of it, he has to keep it to himself.

Gosh season 3 is just things piling up on Wilhelm and Simon. Different things but still crushing them, slowly but surely...

[illarian-rambling]

For the traveling game!

Ryon is very outgoing and with some pompous flair. He loves joking around, dancing, playing his lute, singing. He also is a huge traveler. He wants to see and know what all out there. He pretty easy to get along with, so long as the other person isn't a total asshole. He's dressed to the nines for every occasion, and loves to gives gifts. He often finds himself surrounded by people who intend to use him for their own personal gain, though he often doesn't realize it and believes them genuine friends. Once you get to know him, like actually know him, you quickly realize he is deeply unhappy and easily wounded by words and actions. His whole facade nothing more than a suit of armor.

My immediate answer is Pashananath, but that also comes with some... caveats

Pash is a musician by trade. Born to a Fair Folk hive, music is his Contribution. It is quite literally what he was made for. It's his purpose and he loves it, yes, but he also loves to travel. The prospect of seeing the world past his hive is tantalizing, yet travel is not his Contribution, so such an ambition is frowned upon by fae society. Pash is a ghost now, but in life, this wanderlust made him wonder if he was a little broken. Personality-wise, he comes off as easygoing at first. A little lazy, maybe, but he loves talking to people and is genuinely good at making folks feel better.

The caveat is the whole Fair Folk thing. Pash does nothing if it isn't pleasurable in some way. And he will do anything to atain pleasure. He himself was murdered by another fae for playing an unpopular song at a bar. No anger is held over this because, hey, that guy was just making himself happy. Pash would lie, cheat, steal, or kill if it brought about some sense of fun or benefitted him in some other way. The main thing keeping him from doing a lot of these terrible acts right now is that Pash is a shrimpy fellow and he'd rather let a smaller irritation slide than get hurt when he tries to silence the irritation.

A lot of humans are understandably put off by this mentality. It's certainly not a healthy one, but it's so ingrained in fae culture that Pash buries any doubts he has deep, deep down. However, knowing this, his actions take on a new cast. Pash frequently helps people and even if he steals often, he gives gifts just as regularly. Rarely does he say cruel words when he can make someone laugh instead. Pash does these things out of no sense of obligation because he has never once felt obliged to do anything. He genuinely enjoys helping people for no other reason than it feels like the right thing to do.

Sooo, would they get along? Pash has a lot of issues and deconditioning to work through. Probably he'll be really fucked up for a while once he realizes that going through life so selfishly is kind of a shitty thing to do and there are other options. If Ryon can stick with him through that, I think they could be the best of friends. True bard buddies. Maybe they could even travel together and Ryon could be happy knowing that Pash would never use him, because that would never bring Pash pleasure <3

[dreamcubed]

i did something bad | tom riddle x reader

song; i did something bad [taylor swift] pairing; tom riddle x fem!slytherin!half-blood!eastern european!reader genre; s2l, angst, hurt comfort(ish) word count; 6,5k timeline; tom riddle's last year at hogwarts warnings; referenced child abuse (physical/psychological/verbal), discrimination (muggle-borns), minor character deaths, minor character murders, swearing, extreme manipulation, toxic/unhealthy relationship, srsly tom is so manipulative to y/n, blackmail summary; an orphaned boy with sinister plans for the future, and a new girl who is about to discover she may be just as bad as her parents. what happens when they meet?

fyi i do mix up the order that tom makes the horcruxes a bit :)

PSA | Please Read | y/n is EXTREMELY morally unethical by the end of this. i do not condone such a moral compass, this is a work of fiction and should be treated as such.

masterlist

"you say i did something bad, then why's it feel so good?"

———————————

Hogwarts had a friendlier presence than Durmstrang - but maybe you just had bad memories associated with the latter.

The flashbacks of backstabbing friends and relentless bullying, with you not even getting a break from physical and mental torture during the holidays.

Why?

Well, that was a story.

As like many magic families from the Durmstrang catchment zone, pure-blood supremacist idealism was strong, coupled with the muggle-born hatred that came as a result. Your father's family was no exception: the purest of the pure when it came to blood, or so they claimed.

A stark difference from your mother: a muggle-born.

Only, she didn't tell him that, she lied and told your father (and everyone else for that matter) that she was a pure-blood witch, and the reason they didn't know of her family is because she was from Western Europe (which she was) and fed into Beauxbatons instead. After all, she didn't meet your father until post-education at a European wizarding event.

It wasn't until after marrying and falling pregnant with your father's child did she reveal the truth, burning your father's reputation on the spot. Evidently, your mother had thought that locking down a pregnancy with your father would prevent him from divorcing her - she was dead wrong. Literally, dead wrong.

You would never be sure, but you suspected that your father's family had something to do with your mother dying during childbirth. After all, magic medicine meant there were rarely fatalities around labour.

After you were born and your mother was dead, you were kept as hushed child, hidden away in the corners as your father remarried a woman of a well-known Swedish pure-blood family and continued on to have pure-blood heirs to your family's estate. In all fairness, your stepmother wasn't horrible to you.

But your father was.

The physical and mental abuse you endured for years chipped away at your sanity, and your siblings grew to mirror your father's behaviour. They were younger than you, but there were more of them, and your friendships fell apart at Durmstrang after they enrolled and told everyone of the circumstances of your conception.

Your stepmother never particularly abused you, but she didn't do anything to stop the abuse either. She simply acted indifferent towards you, which given how everyone else was, made her your favourite person by default.

You hated your father and everything he had done to you.

You resented your mother and the situation she had put you in.

When your stepmother fell terribly sick, your father decided to send you away. Which, honestly, was the nicest thing he had ever done for you.

He sent you to live with another hushed secret of his family - even more hushed than you - his squib sister. After she was discovered to be magicless, she had been essentially banished to England where she then was put through all-year muggle boarding schools until she aged out of the system. You had never even heard her mentioned before, yet she welcomed you more warmly than anyone had before, and under your father's orders, you transferred to Hogwarts - the magic school closest to your aunt's residence.

So, there you were, at the beginning of seventh year in an entirely new school. The certified new girl.

Hogwarts was more welcoming, sure, but you didn't think the idea of friends appealed to you anymore. You had been a lone wolf for so long that being anything but seemed unnatural, you were just looking forward to not being bullied like you used to be.

You were sorted into Slytherin: the green house. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the one house that had a similar vibe to Durmstrang. Well, beggars can't be choosers, you thought.

The people in Slytherin gave you curious looks as you sat down, making you scowl.

"What?" you snapped.

They all mumbled, "Nothing," and looked back down at their plates, all apart from one.

The one boy that remained gazing at you curiously had a piercing stare, accompanied by his strong jaw and perfectly gelled hair.

You raised an eyebrow at him, "Can I help you?"

He cleared his throat, "Tom, Tom Riddle. As head boy, I am more than capable of answering any questions you have." His words came across as kind, but the sinister glint in his eye told you every sentence he spoke was just for show.

So, you rolled your eyes, and began eating your food.

***

Your very presence pissed Tom Riddle off.

Everything from the way your lips moved when you spoke to the colour of your eyes irritated him.

The way you answered shortly and curtly towards him, the way you didn't give him the time of day, the way you didn't hang off his every word.

The way you saw through his façade.

Tom Riddle hated it when things didn't go his way, despised it, even. He had learned to perfectly craft his words in such a silky smooth manner that both men and women fell at his feet. He could talk anyone around, fall into anyone's good graces.

But you didn't even give him a chance to build a positive rapport. It was like you smelled his true intentions on him the very second his cologne entered your nostrils. Which was an exaggeration: you were naturally mistrusting of people given your childhood, so you clung to any reason to dislike someone in order to give yourself a reason to avoid them and not risk exposing yourself to another betrayal.

Tom Riddle was too arrogant to realise you treated everybody the exact same way as you did him. He was but another face that could potentially harm you, like every other person in Hogwarts.

Your dorm mates had given up on trying to bond with you, so why wouldn't he?

"Miss L/N," Tom Riddle called to you after a potions lesson. Glances from other students came and went - Tom Riddle was not known for speaking to girls alone all that much.

You exhaled slowly through your nose, turning towards the head boy to raise your eyebrow at him.

"I feel as though we may have gotten off on the wrong foot," his words were calculated, "Perhaps I can amend that?"

His question - if it could be even called a question - was left open ended, leaving the ball in your court. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Amend what exactly?"

"The impression I have made upon you."

"Tom Riddle, I do not think about you outside of whenever you speak to me. There was nothing between us to be broken, and thus nothing to amend."

You picked up your bag and began leaving the classroom, only for the boy to quickly catch up to you. "But your responses have been so curt and... rude."

"Have you ever considered that maybe it's not personal? Maybe my attitude isn't a vendetta against you specifically?" you countered, refusing to even look in his direction.

"Yes, but-"

You stopped in your tracks and turned to him, "The world doesn't revolve around you, Tom Riddle. I treat everyone like this and I have no interest in a positive relationship with anybody here. Please leave me be like everyone else is doing."

And then you departed, only this time, Tom Riddle didn't follow you. He stood, stunned at your words.

Unfortunately, as big of an impact as your words had on him, they had the opposite effect of what you wanted.

Instead of him abandoning all thoughts of you and ignoring your existence, you became a person of incredible interest to the orphaned boy.

***

Tom Riddle moved to sit next to you in every single lesson you shared.

Tom Riddle would always sit next to you during meals.

And Tom Riddle would follow you around a significant amount of the time, always trying to make conversation with you. The conversations were very one-sided, and he didn't lose the arrogant aspect to his personality, nor ever show that he actually cared about you. He would just talk. Talk and talk.

Apart from during lessons when a teacher was talking: he was a studious boy and aimed to master every subject. You cherished those moments of silence.

"Great question, Mr Parkinson," your history of magic professor spoke as you came back to reality from your thoughts, "How does a man as evil as Grindelwald come to be?"

You glanced at Riddle's notebook which was full of notes.

"Bad people come from bad people," your professor stated, making your grip around your quill tighten to the point you snapped it.

Riddle observed your reaction curiously.

"Grindelwald was likely abused as a child, giving him an intense desire for power to make up for the lack of power he had while receiving the abuse."

Your English may not have been perfect, but you understood what the professor was saying all too well.

You couldn't be your father, you simply couldn't.

"We all have skeletons, L/N," arrived a whisper from Riddle in your ear. You turned to him in mild horror, feeling as if he could read you to your core as he gazed into your eyes.

That was when you felt him in your mind. You weren't all that familiar with legilimency, but you were almost entirely sure that Tom Riddle was using it on you.

You broke eye contact with him, but it was too late. He knew.

"Fascinating," he muttered, "Absolutely fascinating."

It felt like you couldn't keep up the cold exterior around Riddle anymore as you shrank in your seat, wishing the ground would swallow you whole.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," he said simply, "As long as you do a few things for me."

Fuck, blackmail.

***

Now you were the one who followed Tom Riddle around instead of him you. Despite maintaining a cold nature towards everyone else, you trailed behind the head boy like a scared little lamb - because you were. You didn't want people to know of your past in fear of being bullied again. You could no longer speak to him brashly, your voice would crack and quiver as you avoided eye contact with him, not wanting to feel so vulnerable with his presence in your mind again.

He hadn't even given you anything to do yet like he said he would, and it had been a week. Was it an empty threat?

No, that wasn't it. It fuelled his ego to have you following him around and maybe that was enough for him to keep your secret - for now.

***

"How do you feel about mudbloods?" he asked you one time, sat in the library together as you worked on your respective homework assignments.

You looked up at him and frowned. You had come to understand that 'mudblood' was an English insult for muggle-borns. "My mother was muggle-born."

"I am aware." Right, he had been in your mind. "But you're upset with her, yes? Her faking her blood status to your father ultimately led to your life being the way it is."

"What are you suggesting?"

"That she is an example of why mudbloods should not be allowed in this world. Her greed and selfishness is what killed her in the end."

"What caused you to be so hateful?" you asked - a bold question on your part. Your voice was timid as you spoke.

"Well, growing up in an orphanage doesn't help," he said, sitting back in his seat, "My mother was a pure-blood and my father was a muggle, and look what happened. Muggle culture should stay separate from the wizarding world. But that's only possible if mudbloods are eradicated."

You cast your eyes down to your work laid before you. Tom Riddle scared you. He scared you because he had the eyes of a cold-hearted man, and you knew what came from people with those kinds of eyes.

Riddle observed you as you zoned out, attempting to piece together your thoughts, which was difficult as your eyes weren't locked with his.

"You and I are not so different, Miss L/N," he spoke, "Relations between someone from muggle society and a pure-blood is what caused our childhoods to be so unfair. We have the right to retaliate."

"How do we know it wasn't the pure-blood's fault?"

"It doesn't matter whose fault it is, it simply proves that the two societies should not mix. Mudbloods are the bridge between them, and so we must break that bridge."

You exhaled slowly, daring to look up at Riddle but without looking in his eyes.

"Are you not angry? Angry for what has happened to you?"

"Of course I am, I-"

"Whose fault is it you ended up in an abusive situation?"

"Technically my mother's, but-"

"No, no buts. There's your answer, L/N."

You finally locked your eyes with his, but he didn't push into your mind like he did before.

"You think I'm going to abuse you like your father did, don't you?" he had drawn that conclusion without even using legilimency - was it that obvious?

At your lack of response, he hummed.

"I understand you are distrusting, but I do not wish to hurt you, Miss L/N. I am here to help you."

You stared at him blankly.

"Look, everyone else avoids you, thinks you are strange. But not me, I understand you. I'm the only person who understands you."

Considering his childhood, that was a fair observation, you thought.

"You need to learn to trust me," he said simply, "Because I am all you have."

"But, Riddle, I-"

"Tom," he corrected, "Call me Tom. You will never trust me if we continue to be so formal. May I call you by Y/N?"

You feebly nodded, unsure of what was happening to you in that moment.

"Perfect," he smiled a gorgeous yet uncanny smile that made you feel queasy, "If you are ever in dilemma, don't hesitate to come to me. I'm your only option, after all, but I'm a good option. I'm here for you."

You again nodded.

"I'm going to need you to verbally agree, Y/N."

"Y- yes, Tom," you words almost caught in your throat.

He smiled the eery smile again, "Glad to hear you're willing to build trust with me."

***

When he said to do some things for him you had thought he meant do his homework for him or something along those lines - apparently he meant join his muggle-born hate group. You didn't know where your life was heading, but you did know that you were becoming increasingly trapped.

With the amount of time you spent with Tom Riddle, rumours were beginning to flood around the castle that the head boy and the new girl were dating. He never corrected the rumours, not even once.

In fact, you were pretty sure it made him feel as if he had even more ownership of you.

"Students, it is with great sadness that I inform you today that a student by the name of Myrtle Warren has passed," the headmaster said during dinner, "Due to the circumstances of her death, the girls' toilets on the second floor will be shut until further notice, and an investigation into the cause of her death will be opened."

Although he didn't say the word 'murder', everybody knew, but they didn't know who. You, however, had a sneaking suspicion that was confirmed when your eyes met Tom's and he smirked at you.

Myrtle had been a muggle-born.

With an increased amount of fear you followed Tom as he departed from the table, as you usually did on your way back to the dungeons. He hardly acknowledged your presence, but you still heard mutters of how cute it was that you were always together as you passed the tables. Well, at least you weren't being bullied, you supposed.

And it wasn't like Tom ever harmed you - he was true to his word in that sense. So, maybe your fear was unwarranted.

In fact, this was the safest you had ever felt.

Was it Tom that made you feel this way? You glanced up at his stern expression as he walked, feeling your stomach twist when you heard someone in the corridor say, "Look, it's Riddle and his girlfriend." Girlfriend?

You continued to look at Tom, trying to fit the word boyfriend to him: he was handsome, that was for sure. And he cared about you, in a strange way, but cared nonetheless.

He was truthful about wanting to eradicate muggle-borns, as proven through Myrtle, so he must be truthful about not wanting to harm you as well. After all, if he had proved such an extreme thing about himself, a much milder thing such as caring for someone else's wellbeing was basically a given.

"Are you alright, Y/N?" his voice brought you out your thoughts, "You are staring off into space."

"Sorry," you mumbled, taking a deep breath before asking, "Are you my boyfriend?"

Tom stilled in his movements, turning to properly look at you, "What makes you ask?"

"Well, everyone says because we spend so much time together we must be dating," you said nervously, "And you don't correct them."

"If that's how you would like to describe our agreement, then so be it."

Agreement was a strong word.

"I don't correct rumours because I don't care for them," he added, "But if me being your boyfriend makes you more inclined to trust me, then I suppose I should thank the rumours."

"I don't... not trust you," you found yourself saying, which made Tom smile.

"Then all that's left is trust," he held out his hand to you, and you stared at it pensively for a few moments before taking it.

***

"Salazar, I sound just like my mother," a girl sat nearby you at dinner laughed in reference to her previous statement, her surrounding friends joining in with the giggling.

"Well, that's what they say. We become our parents," one of the friends added, which was a passing remark - but one that stuck with you.

You couldn't be like your father... you simply couldn't.

"Tom," you asked quietly after you were tucked away in the corner of the Slytherin common room together, "Do you think I am like my father?"

The boy looked up from his essay, "In terms of what? Appearance?"

You shook your head, "Personality."

He paused, "You are not entirely different."

That struck a chord in you, "But- but I'm not abusing anyone!"

"You are not pleasant to anyone who speaks with you," he said, "I assume the manner in which you talk is learnt from your father."

"No, I- I'm like that because I don't trust people!" your voice was exasperated, but not loud.

"Did your father trust you?"

At your lack of response, he continued talking.

"Darling-" that was new, "-when you are raised by bad people, you know more of how to be a bad person than somebody raised by good people. In fact, you know more of how to be a bad person than a good person in general. It can't be helped."

"Why not?" all the insecurities and self-doubt you had built over the years were now amplifying.

"Because it's your default learned behaviour."

"I- I..." honestly you felt like crying, "No, I can't be..."

Tom shushed you softly, "Don't fret. I understand you, remember? The others don't accept your flaws, but I do, because I have the same flaws."

"You just called me a bad person," you mumbled.

"Bad was perhaps the wrong word to use. Misunderstood or socialised differently are perhaps more fitting terms."

"We really can't change ourselves?"

"No, but we can find like-minded people and grow in numbers in order to change the structure of society. Make it a place for us and not them."

"That just seems so extreme."

Tom traced his fingers along your exposed arm, sending shivers up your spine, "Don't you think it's our time? The so-called good people have had their way for so long. We didn't choose to be 'bad', we were unlucky with who we were born to - we deserve compensation not societal neglect."

"I mean, I- I guess."

The head boy smiled at you: that uncanny yet charming smile he had equipped in his inventory for moments like these. Still, you hadn't been smiled at in such a way ever before, and couldn't help the fact it gave you butterflies.

You let the silence sit for a few moments, noticing how the common room was now practically empty because of how late it was. It hadn't been Tom's turn to do the prefect rounds that night.

With the absence of people, you felt safe enough to state, "It was you."

"It was me what?"

You let your eyes meet his for a brief few seconds, but he didn't attempt to enter your mind. "You know what. Who else would it have been?"

He hummed softly, "She would have just gone on to traumatise her future children with her muggle ways in some way or other."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. I was raised in a muggle orphanage. Muggles are cruel and horrible, and they cannot plague wizarding society."

You stared at him, no words coming to mind.

"Besides, her death was not without cause. I needed someone to die in order to ensure my immortality."

"What?"

Tom gave that smile again, before explaining something that only made you further aware of how twisted his mind was.

***

That night you lay awake in bed, thinking over everything Tom had told you about horcruxes and the basilisk that lived in a chamber beneath the school. You knew you weren't the only one that knew, as you weren't the only one who hung around him. Avery, Lestrange and Malfoy were also a part of Tom's 'movement', as he called it.

You didn't know what to do. You felt trapped within a relationship with Tom, since you now knew he was fully capable of murder and you knew too much about him to be able to distance yourself safely.

At the same time, a lot of what he said made sense, and maybe you were just harbouring more and more resentment for your mother, but you found yourself beginning to agree with him. I mean, you were sorted into a house that didn't allow muggle-borns into it, just like Durmstrang didn't allow muggle-borns at all. At this point, it was written in the stars that you weren't supposed to be fond of 'mudbloods', since you always wound up in spaces that despised them: your family, Durmstrang, Slytherin... and Tom Riddle.

It's not that you even had a choice anymore.

***

The Christmas holidays arrived, and you didn't think twice about signing yourself up to stay at Hogwarts for the two week period - Tom was obviously staying as well. It was weird, as you weren't sure if you should be getting him a gift for the day.

Despite the fact you had never kissed or even hugged, he was technically your boyfriend, so you reasoned that you should be getting him something. But what do you buy for a man whose only interests are world domination? On top of that, you had no money.

You could make him something.

And that was how you found yourself sat at your desk in your dormitory (which you had all to yourself until the next term), carving a snake out of a bit of wood you had (magically) cut from a part of your bed. It wasn't a large amount, just enough to make a small figurine, but you intended to charm it to create some sort of snake hologram that would erupt out of the wooden snake's mouth. Wood carving had been a common activity in your family growing up, although you always had to use the scraps of wood and blunt knives while your siblings got the good quality stuff.

Once you had completed the final step of perfecting the charm, you smiled proudly to yourself at your work and wrapped it up carefully.

***

Your routine since the Christmas holidays began was pretty simple: you, Tom and a second year were the only Slytherins staying, and there was only a handful from the other houses too. Every morning you would meet Tom in the common room at 8am and head to breakfast together, where you would eat plenty before heading to the library to study. Tom's studies were almost exclusively directed towards dark magic, meanwhile you worked to improve in your subjects, which you struggled more with due to English not being your first language.

Being head boy, Tom had basically permanent access to the restricted section, especially because he could get Professor Slughorn to sign off on anything. Everyday he learned darker and darker wizarding secrets, which scared you more than you would ever admit.

After morning studies, you would return to the Great Hall for lunch, and then Tom would insist on a walk around the castle grounds after a morning of mostly sitting down. Afternoon would be when he would have his meetings with Slughorn, whatever they were about, whilst you took the time to relax and decompress in the Slytherin common room with a good book.

Then it would be back again to the Great Hall for dinner, and then, since Tom didn't have prefect rounds to worry about, he would sit with you in the common room for a couple hours. Sometimes you chatted, sometimes you didn't.

"Y/N, darling," he spoke as he sat down next to you, the two of you having just returned from dinner. The second year was nowhere in sight.

You hummed, turning to look at him.

"Slughorn is starting to suspect my interest in dark magic is more than just curiosity."

"It is, isn't it?" you replied nonchalantly.

"Yes, but it is making him stop answering the questions I ask so easily. It is most frustrating."

"Maybe you should back off for a while then, build up trust again."

That was when Tom surprised you by dropping his head on to your shoulder, exhaling as he felt your warmth touch his cheek. "I'll have to. I just hate that it will cause a delay in my learning."

You nervously let your head rest against his as you pushed back the butterflies swarming in your stomach, wondering desperately how a man with such violent thoughts had only ever been so kind to you. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't so bad being trapped with him.

Tom's eyes fluttered shut as his body began relaxing, and you took the moment to work up the courage to initiate more affection. You reached out and took his thumb into your hand, since the rest of it was balled up and not easy to hold. He acknowledged the gesture by rubbing the back of your hand with his forefinger, without opening his eyes.

You were probably the first to see this soft side of Tom.

***

Christmas Day quickly rolled around, not that the day had ever particularly meant much to you. So many years had been spent with you watching your half-siblings open their luxurious gifts, meanwhile you got a new pair of socks if you were lucky. That was until you were at Durmstrang, where you always stayed behind for the holidays while your half-siblings went home to loving parents that you never got.

Tom's Christmases had probably been even worse when they were spent at an orphanage. At least you were allowed a small portion of the grand Christmas meal at your childhood home. Orphans likely got the usual everyday food.

Regardless, you weren't expecting anything when you left your dormitory and entered the Slytherin common room. The Durmstrang Christmas feasts had made the traditional food your favourite part of the day, and you were simply hoping Hogwarts could top the delicacies. You were pleasantly surprised to see Tom already in the common room on the sofa by the tree, holding a neatly wrapped gift.

You couldn't help but smile at him as he noticed your presence, and clutched your gift for him behind your back as you approached his location.

"Merry Christmas, darling," he said to you, rising in order to greet you properly.

"Merry Christmas, Tom," you replied, standing still in front of him.

"I got you something," he said, holding out the box.

You accepted it and presented your gift to him, "And I got you something."

He smiled a small smile and accepted your present, moving in sync with you as you sat down to eagerly open the parcels.

You were absolutely shocked to uncover an absolutely gorgeous white gold ring with a snake design wrapping around, and two large emeralds in place of the snake's eyes. You had seen many expensive things in your life, but you had never had the privilege of touching one - let alone owning one. Looking over at Tom to search for some sort of answer, you received none as he was too busy gazing at the illusion you had spent ages charming.

"It's beautiful, darling."

"Thank you," you couldn't help but be shy, "I don't have any money so I could only make you something."

He smiled, "What do you think of my gift?"

"Oh, Tom, it's- it's gorgeous," you were speechless, "I- I don't know what to say. Thank you. Thank you so much."

"It's to your taste, then?"

You didn't hesitate to nod.

"Lovely, I was hoping it would be. I had to resist using legilimency to confirm."

"Why didn't you?"

"I want you to trust me, doll, and invading your mind won't get you there, will it?"

You softly shook your head, shifting closer to him so you could embrace him in a side hug. He turned his body to hold you properly, and as you buried your face in his chest, you smelled a scent that you had never had the privilege of smelling before: the scent of home.

Tom was your home - he had to be. He was the safest place for you to be in all regards, and that was what a home was, right?

"But what's the ring for?" you asked as you pulled away from the embrace.

"It's for my darling," he said simply, and he didn't elaborate.

But as you tried it on all your fingers, you found that the only one it fit perfectly snug on was your ring finger.

Perhaps that was a coincidence.

***

You had taken to wearing the ring at all times, and you could tell Tom liked it that way, having that mark of ownership on you. Due to the finger on which you wore the piece of jewellery, you received many comments from students and teachers when they returned after New Year's.

"Is congratulations due?" Professor Slughorn had asked during the first potions class of the new year, to which you had merely smiled as you didn't know what to say.

It didn't matter, though, because the rumour spread through the castle quick enough to be considered a well-known fact. Tom Riddle and Y/N L/N being engaged was simply a fact at Hogwarts, and no one had ever debated it.

It wasn't unusual for seventh year couples to get engaged: in fact, it seemed that your 'engagement' had triggered a domino effect of more proposals.

You supposed this probably happened every year after there was a first couple to announce their engagement. Girls pushing more hints towards their boyfriends to get them to ask to tie the knot, probably somewhat out of jealousy and not wanting to be left behind.

"How many kids are you going to have?" one of your dorm mates asked at lunch - the first time she had bothered speaking to you in a while.

"I- I don't know," you had never felt safe enough to even consider if you wanted kids. It's not like you even had a good role model to base your parenting off of. Her question had caught you so off guard you failed to even put up the cold exterior you held for everyone except Tom.

"I think I want four," the girl continued, "I want a kinda big family but not overwhelmingly big, you know?"

You nodded absently.

"But if my husband wants more then I guess I would consider it," she said pensively, "How many does Riddle want?"

"I haven't asked Tom," your cold tone finally caught up to you.

"Asked me what?" your 'fiancé' arrived at the table and sat next to you, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek - which he had never done before. The girls opposite you awed at his behaviour.

"How many kids you want," the same girl reiterated.

You watched as Tom chewed on his cheek a bit before saying, "As many as my wife wants, it's her body that has to go through the turmoil after all."

Your dorm mates began murmuring about how considerate that was of Tom, and how one of the girl's boyfriends was insistent on at least three kids with no room for negotiation.

"Salazar, L/N, now we all want your man," one of the girls joked.

You turned to look at Tom to see that he wasn't even looking in their direction, and instead looking at you.

***

"This diary is my first horcrux," Tom explained to you, handing the book over. He had surprised you by showing you the Chamber of Salazar Slytherin, where the basilisk who killed Myrtle under Tom's orders (as you learned) resided. Despite the fact you hadn't seen the giant snake, you were nervous. "This is what Warren died for."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" you asked, flicking through the pages of the diary.

"You weren't ready to think too much about my plans, as you were still processing the motive," he said, handing you a quill and ink pot, "Write in the diary."

You frowned, but took the quill and dipped it in ink, before writing a simple message of 'hello'.

You nearly jumped out your skin when the diary replied to you.

"What is this?"

"I've charmed the part of my soul in the diary to be able to interact with whoever's writing in it, and in the case I lose the body I currently have, drain the life force of this hypothetical person to create a new body for me."

Regardless of your feelings about the matter, you had to give it to Tom that he was incredibly intelligent.

"So, I suggest you don't write anymore in it," he said, taking the diary back, "I quite like you alive."

"You're immortal now."

He hummed, "After we leave Hogwarts, I would like to continue making more. I want them to be grand, meaningful items, like the valuable objects of each house here."

"Like the sword of Gryffindor?"

"Yes, but that one wouldn't be very wise to pick. It's kept in the headmaster's office."

You nodded, "What are the others?"

"Ravenclaw's diadem, Slytherin's locket and Hufflepuff's cup."

"And which one do you want to use?"

He sighed, looking around the gloomy chamber, "Ideally, all three of them."

***

APPROX. SIX YEARS LATER.

***

You returned home with bags of food weighing your hands down, a playful song replaying in your mind in a loop. This was a normal day for you, thus far, as you entered the household that you shared with your husband, Tom Riddle. It was a house in the middle of nowhere, as he preferred it.

As you walked into the kitchen, you couldn't help but notice that it seemed way too quiet - normally you could feel Tom's presence from his work study, but today you couldn't. After checking the office to confirm he wasn't there, you turned back towards the kitchen to unpack the shopping (presuming he was simply out somewhere and forgot to mention) when you noticed that the door to the cellar was slightly open.

Ensuring your wand was definitely on your person, you entered through the door of rotting wood and slowly made your way down the stone slab stairs. You peered around the corner to see Tom stood across from a slumped figure in the corner, and between them stood a small table with Slytherin's locket set on it. Next to the locket was a wand, but it wasn't Tom's since he was holding his.

You had never witnessed Tom during his... dark magic... before.

You observed as Tom slightly turned his back to the captive person, reading carefully a page of the dusty book he was holding. It was then, to your horror, that the person got up and rushed to grab their wand from the table, beginning to say the fatal killing curse, "Avada kedav-"

"Avada kedavra!"

Tom turned around in shock, looking between you with your wand extended, and the now-corpse on the cold stone floor. All you could do was stare in horror at what you had done.

Only, the horror didn't come from the fact you had just killed someone for the first time - no, the horror came from the fire pumping in your veins and making you feel alive. Why did something so bad make you feel so good? It was like a drug - unholy but godly all the same.

"Darling?" Tom snapped you out of your thoughts, and you finally lowered your wand, "Darling, are you okay?"

You nodded, finding yourself breathless as your husband embraced you.

"You saved my life."

"You're immortal, my love."

"You saved me the hassle of creating a new body," he corrected, parting from you to look down at your face, "How do you feel?"

You exhaled slowly, "Exhilarated."

He raised an eyebrow at you.

"Were they a mudblood?"

Tom's face displayed even more surprise: you had never referred to muggle-borns in such a way before. "Yes, doll, but I'll need a new one now to finish this horcrux."

"Sorry."

"Don't be," he chuckled, pecking your lips, "Never apologise for the death of mudbloods."

You gave him a small smile, "I'm apologising for the kidnapping hassle you now have to go through again, not the death."

"I'm in love with you," he said quickly, staring at you with his piercing eyes.

You beamed up at Tom: your lover, your devil, your rock.

"I'm in love with you too."

———————————————

masterlist

written; 08/03/2023 —> 19/03/2023 published; 20/03/2023 edited; —/—/——

taglist ; @workinatdapyramid

[presidenthades]

Once again, I am doing a series of my behind-the-scenes thoughts for The Golds while I do light edits for formatting, typos, and continuity. Here’s Chapter 9!

For this chapter’s title, I went with the final stanza of “The Song of the Seven” when the lyrics talk about all the gods, because the chapter ends with Jace and Aegon arriving for the anointment ceremony.

I kinda feel sorry for Jace and Aegon discovering the true hardships of parenthood (night feedings! Sleep deficit!), but they also have a castle full of servants to do all the chores. Raising a baby is hard, but at least they don’t have to worry about laundry or cooking. Can’t blame Jace for delegating diaper changes, though.

I have no idea how long a dragon’s gestation period is supposed to be. No reason it can’t be comparable to a human’s? They’re fictional anyway 😛. But I wanted Vermax’s gestation to align with Jace’s pregnancy to highlight that dragon/rider bond, since the show has cuts of Syrax reacting during Rhaenyra’s labor in Episode 10.

There’s a fandom theory that dragons seem to thrive more roaming freely on Dragonstone than chained in the Dragonpit. But one disadvantage of the Dragonmont is the Cannibal, who I imagine is quick to hint down new eggs and hatchlings. So when a claimed dragon is expected to lay eggs, I think the Dragonkeepers are very alert about when it happens. It might be harder to keep tabs on unclaimed dragons like Silverwing, who probably do their own thing without a rider to keep tabs on them. But otherwise the Dragonkeepers are trying their best to save the eggs from getting eaten.

There’s also probably a narrow window after Vermax lays eggs when she goes away to hunt or something, and that’s when humans are able to get the eggs. Otherwise Vermax might not be so happy about them taking her eggs, and Jace is in no shape to go up the mountain and tell her to calm down.

There’s some debate whether Sunfyre was a cradle egg or a dragon that Aegon claimed as a kid. The strong bond makes me want to say cradle egg, but Sunfyre seems a lot larger than most dragons his age if so, and there are lines in F&B which indicate that Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond might not have even received cradle eggs. There might not have been eggs available when the genre born, or maybe Viserys chose not to give them eggs because he was showing favor to Rhaenyra’s line. Daeron is the youngest so he’s a special case because of the timing; there might have been more eggs when he was born, or, in the book (where Daeron and Jacaerys are of similar ages), Viserys may have felt obligated to offer an egg to Daeron since he gave eggs to Rhaenyra’s kids.

I’m leaning toward Aegon claiming Sunfyre (who could have been a young dragon in the Dragonpit). In that case, it’s extra important to Aegon that he gets an egg for his son, especially if you go with the headcanon that Viserys deliberately didn’t give Aegon an egg. By personally choosing an egg and placing it in the cradle, this is another way Aegon can demonstrate his love and approval to his own son, which Viserys didn’t show to Aegon.

In the last chapter’s commentary, I mentioned that I made Aegon minimally affected by the glass candle since he’s not inclined toward magic. But Joff is very interested in magic and has actually used the candle, so it has a much greater effect on her. Kinda like how the One Ring in LOTR affects different people differently.

I think we can all agree that generally, it’s an asshole move to a) purposely create sudden loud noises around a newborn and b) shove a woman who just gave birth. Joff is not entirely herself and she shows remorse, so she gets some sympathy. At the same time, I think it’s clear why Aegon is so angry. From his perspective, Jace is bleeding on the floor and screaming for Joff to stop whatever she’s doing, and he catches Joff with her hands literally in the cradle. He believes he came just in time to stop something terrible from happening, and who knows what would’ve happened if Joff hadn’t snapped out of it? So Aegon is not going to immediately forgive Joff for hurting Jace/almost hurting the baby. And if it were anyone else (not Jace’s sister, not the person who just saved Jace and Cheeseball), he probably wouldn’t have forgiven them at all.

As for Jace, despite her own fear and pain, her first instinct is to try to protect Joff by lying for her, because that’s her sister and Aegon is pretty pissed. As usual, Jace sets her own needs and comfort aside in favor of her loved ones. But now Jace has a helpless baby to think about. She might still put her sisters above herself, but Cheeseball comes before her sisters now.

I allude to the glass candle in the Handbook, first when Daeron blabs about getting Joff something from Oldtown in Chapter 7, then in the final scene of the fic when Daemon catches the two of them examining the candle. The Citadel doesn’t officially acknowledge the existence of the candles (although it seems to be an open secret in Oldtown), so Daeron must’ve been very sneaky and creative to be able to “borrow” it.

“Joff won’t like it” is one of Daeron’s mantras when he decides what to do or not to do. He’s probably going to have to grow out of this eventually 😅.

“Joff is going to have to do a lot of things she doesn’t like. That’s life.” Aegon learned this life lesson a while ago, but he truly absorbs and embodies it in Chapter 10 when he steps into the game.

Vermax laid three eggs. The mysterious wet nurse said Aegon and his wife would have three children 🧐.

Jace dresses Cheeseball in Targaryen red knits for his first day of being paraded around the family!

Baela, Rhaena, and Helaena are basically the fairy godmothers from Sleeping Beauty. They’re even color-coded the same!

It’s revealed in Chapter 10 that Helaena has no interest in pregnancy/childbirth, but that doesn’t mean she’s opposed to children entirely. She just doesn’t want to carry them. Hence her and Rhaena’s little chat about Garmund, who would hypothetically be the medieval equivalent of a sperm donor while Rhaena and Helaena raise any kids. It’s also why they picked Daemion Velaryon as Helaena’s potential husband in the Handbook; Daemion is implied to be gay and he has no holdings to bequeath, so his wife doesn’t need to have kids, compared to, say, Kermit Tully.

It’s OK Baela, your gift to Cheeseball was your midwifery skills.

Aegon hovers a lot over Cheeseball right now because the birth was a very fraught experience, and the Joff incident didn’t help his nerves. Also he’s just in the “newborn dad” phase. When Cheeseball gets older and is a bit less fragile, I think Aegon will let Cheeseball run around and get in age-appropriate trouble.

Cheeseball is literally one day old but I couldn’t resist infusing some personality into him. He enjoys feminine attention, likes boobs, and instinctively thinks Aemond is kinda weird. Definitely Aegon’s son 😂.

Luce was about to say her kids are gonna be named after historical figures, because Aemond’s a history nerd 😢.

Aemond is trying to be cool and pretend he isn’t super interested in the baby, but this man spent a small fortune on that Valyrian steel dagger 😭.

“Aemma” is the magic word when it comes to Viserys. Although he shipped Luce and Aemond at the end of the Handbook, he’s putting on his king hat and doing what he thinks is necessary (but also Elenda invoked Aemma). Viserys wants to be a peacemaker (although he fails miserably in canon), and he wants people to like him (can't remember which episode, but he asks Lyonel or Otto if they think he'll be remembered as a good king). Breaking up Luce and Aemond is a price he's willing to pay. He doesn't care about Aemond's feelings, and while he does care about Luce's feelings, he doesn't think a young girl's romantic affections are worth destabilizing the Crown. And since there isn't any official arrangement between her and Aemond, Viserys thinks there isn't much shame for her in being jilted, since there's no betrothal to be jilted.

Borros Baratheon is gunning hard for power and a royal marriage. In F&B, he seizes every opportunity to advantageously betroth his daughters, and he tells his wife to name their unborn son Aegon after Aegon II. The Baratheons also claim Targ blood through Orys, a more recent infusion of Valyrian blood through Queen Alyssa, and kinship to Rhaenys (and Jace and her sisters by extension). If any great lord thinks he "deserves" a royal marriage, it has to be this guy.

In F&B, Elenda seems like a cunning woman who balances the desires of her daughters with the welfare of House Baratheon as a whole (considering how she dealt with Cassandra's marriage in the book). She is grieving for Floris, but she has three other living daughters to think about, and she's too smart/ambitious to let this opportunity slip by despite her grief.

Aegon has a very cynical view of Viserys, but honestly he's pretty close to the truth IMO. I always side-eye the show writers/actors when they say Viserys is a good person just trying his best because…uh…I don't think so 😅. There are already tons of blogs and opinions out there explaining why Viserys is kinda terrible so I won't parrot them. But ultimately, it seems Viserys is driven primarily by the prophecy (his desperation for a son, then him believing the PTWP will come from Rhaenyra's line) and by guilt about Aemma. So that taints my opinion of his love and affection for Rhaenyra, and her children in turn. Rhaenyra's kids are more important than Alicent's kids, but they aren't the most important thing either.

Aegon is also kinda right about hiding the info from Jace during the pregnancy. She probably would have stressed herself even more if she knew the truth, and that wouldn't be good for her health or the baby's. So the temporary information diet was probably the best call Aegon could have made in that situation.

When Rhaenyra arrives, she's frowning at Aegon who's freaking out in the corridor. He stays there like that until Alicent makes him get lunch for Jace.

Joff feels very guilty about last night, so she decides to remove herself from the situation out of fear of a repeat.

Even though Rhaenyra generally has a good relationship with her daughters, no mother-daughter relationship is perfect. Jace and Rhaenyra have pretty different personalities, and arguably different values, but Jace is a people-pleaser and Rhaenyra is on the chill side for a Westerosi mom, so they get along most of the time. But when they clash, they really clash (like that argument in Chapter 6 of the Handbook that Daemon slept through, about Jace's elopement to Aegon).

Jace thinking that she would throw herself off a tower if she'd been presented with her baby torn up is a reference to Helaena and Maelor

I honestly don't think Rhaenyra has really forgiven Viserys for Aemma's death. She just moved on, because what other choice was there? He's her father and the king.

Rhaenyra really didn't like Aegon growing up (for reasons already included in past commentaries), but she was more neutral about Aemond. There isn't the same baggage about Aegon claiming everyone's attention/replacing her, and Aemond was much better behaved. And I think Luce was spoiled more while Jace was the responsible one making sacrifices and doing her duty, so there is different treatment in that regard.

I was going to elaborate more in earlier drafts before I rewrote some subplots, but Alicent had perinatal depression during her pregnancy with Daeron. It got bad enough that even Viserys noticed, and after the maesters advised a respite from court might help, he decided this meant sending Alicent to Oldtown for the rest of the pregnancy—without her three older children 🙃. That’s why Alicent was away in Oldtown, and that’s why she can empathize with Jace’s current mess of emotions. If I ever write that Alicent & Rhaenyra POV fic of the kids’ childhood, this subplot is definitely going in there.

Rhaenyra ultimately resigned herself to Jace/Aegon for the sake of her child’s happiness, and Alicent did the same re: Luce/Aemond. Parallels!

“All your children will be precious to you, but it is your firstborn who changes you the most.” Of course Alicent is thinking about Aegon when she says that. She might not always like him very much, but that doesn’t make it any less true, and she loves him anyway. She just isn’t great at showing it, and she has hurt him physically and emotionally, and that’s left its mark on Aegon.

Just like in Chapter 5, Jace and Aegon reconcile quickly because they don’t like being at odds with each other. Again, Jace is a people-pleaser, and Aegon is a Jace-pleaser, which helps a lot when they need to be honest with each other about their mistakes.

Aegon’s joke about commissioning a giant gold statue for Joff is a reference to Aegon in F&B wanting to commission giant gold statues for his brothers.

Aemond 100% cares what other people think about him. He supposedly wears the eyepatch so his sapphire eye doesn’t scare ladies at court (even though it’s gorgeous??), and he gets triggered by Maris’s purported taunt about his balls in F&B. He has a lot of internal motivation to excel, but I think he wants external validation that he’s good enough (see: his whole “‘tis I who studies” speech). So even though he’s impulsive enough to suggest eloping (the Storm’s End chase was one big impulse in the show, the roast pig triggers him into making the Strong boys toast), he would care a lot about the gossip and his reputation afterward. And TBH Aemond is not a very emotionally stable guy, so I can totally see him lashing out against an easy target who doesn’t deserve it—like Luce. But hey, that’s what a character growth arc is for!

The Faith is supposed to be based on Catholicism, so I figured they have an in-world equivalent of a baptism. The religious lore is different so instead of water, they use oils; we see Aegon being anointed by oils during his coronation in Episode 9. And seven is THE lucky number in the Faith/Westeros, so babies are usually anointed at seven weeks old.

Typical Viserys forgot that Jace might have some trauma related to the Grand Sept 🙃.

At this rate the Dragonpit is going to become a symbol of Jace and Aegon’s marriage. And it’s a nice blend of Targaryen power as well as a nod of respect to the Faith. Jace is very conscious of the importance of the Faith’s support and the need to assimilate into Westerosi culture while retaining icons of Targaryen superiority.

“You’re thinking like a statesman.” Jace is right though, Aegon could be good at it if he tried…

Cheeseball was born on the small side since he came early (and stress during pregnancy can lead to smaller babies too), but he is definitely a chonker now.

A commenter once suggested that Aegon might have a lactation kink and now I can’t get it out of my head

Deep down Jace knows that Baela had feelings for her, but Jace tries not to think about it/pretends she doesn’t know. Jace prefers her sisterly relationship with Baela, and acknowledging non-platonic feelings would affect that. Also, Baela has more or less moved on (most likely?), so Jace thinks there’s no point acknowledging it anyway.

Is Aegon being extra when he uses dracarys on a dirty diaper? Probably yeah, but what else is he going to do with it?

I like to think the Garden girls are part of the crowd waving gold flags when they fly back to KL.

Aegon says he hates playing politics, but he puts on a show without thinking about it. He even gives the crowd a Lion King moment when he holds up the baby.

Chapter 10 commentary here

[demigods-posts]

headcanon that percy and annabeth are both equally infatuated with the HSM franchise: PJO version

• the obsession started after the sea of monsters when annabeth stayed over at percy's apartment and they argued over which movie to watch

• eventually, they decided on watching HSM together since neither of them had seen it and they ended up loving it

• at karaoke nights at camp half-blood, they often sang Troy/Gabriella duets (The Start of Something New, What I've Been Looking For, Breaking Free)

• admittedly, they sounded terrible, but singing is so much easier and less embarrassing when they do it together, so neither one of them cared

• the implications of their duet were completely lost on them, but it was one of the main reasons the camp ships them

• after The Titan's curse takes place, annabeth continues the tradition of staying over percy's apartment (also because they missed each other since she got kidnapped) and watched HSM 2 and they both fell even more in love with the franchise

• the morning of percy's fourteenth birthday, he and annabeth baked cookies in the kitchen while blasting 'Work This Out' so loud that the neighbors complained

• sally found the loud music annoying too at first but completely forgot about it when she watched percy and annabeth sing 'You Are the Music in Me' while throwing flour at each other, obviously falling for each other

• percy and annabeth completely shut down the idea of them dating when sally not-so-subtly teases them about it, but sally wasn't fooled

• throughout percy's and annabeth's eighth grade year, they frequently email each other (they know demigods and electronics are a bad idea but they don't care when it comes to each other) and constantly sign-off their emails with quotes or song lyrics to hilariously describe their current mood

• "dude, my brothers literally came into my room and spilled water all over my plans for the camp's next prom night. come fix it." - wisegirl12, how did we get from the top of the world to the bottom of the heap?

• "no." - seaweedbrain18, i gotta go my own way

• the year HSM 3 came out, percy and annabeth weren't on good terms and didn't speak to each other unless it was about preparing for the upcoming war

• still, they refused to watch HSM 3 without the other

• after the battle of the labyrinth (more importantly, after their kiss), percy iris messages annabeth and apologizes for how distant he's been and admits he been avoiding everyone and everything related to being a demigod because he's scared that he'll die before he'll graduate

• annabeth apologizes for being so rude to him and admits that's she's just scared she'll lose him and is shitty at expressing her emotions

• the two continue to talk about anything and everything and eventually get to the topic of HSM 3

• they admit to each other that they hadn't seen it since it came out, so they make a pact: if they both survive the war, annabeth has to come over and watch the movie with him

• later that week, percy secretly purchases the DVD for the movie and promises to not open it until then

• as we know, the two survive the war and finally get together on percy's birthday

• as sally comes to pick the two up from camp, they run to the car hand-in-hand and sally immediately figures it out and is so happy for them

• sally spends almost the entire car ride to the apartment enforcing the 'door open at all times rule', much to the couple's embarrassment

• later that night when annabeth stays over, she and percy cuddle on the couch and talk and then annabeth reminds him of the pact they made

• percy leaps out of his seat and grabs the DVD, much to annabeth's surprise, and the two cuddle and watch the movie together

• from that point forward, whenever they email each other, percy signs off his email as "seaweedbrain18, troy bolton"

• annabeth thinks it's incredibly corny, but signs off her emails as "wisegirl12, gabriella montez"

I was listening to the soundtrack for HSM 2 and got this headcanon idea. Add to it if you want :)

[crybabyddl]

Just finished my rewatch of jatp. My perfrct track record of not crying during Unsaid Emily remains untouched. I will say though, I was very close to shedding a tear this time. However, I didn’t even cry during Stand Tall! I always cry during Stand Tall!

Anyways, I couldn’t stop thinking about all the headcanons and theories that us tumblr fantoms created and the little easter eggs we discovered while watching and rewatching the series. It makes me really appreciative of the fact that we had a sense of community during a time where a lot of us were alone, scared, and uninspired. Just like Julie, I felt a renewed sense of purpose and hope. I think that a lot of people felt the same after watching the show. Julie and the Phantoms is what inspired me to learn the piano, the ukulele, and it led me to getting a guitar. When I learned how to play the chords for the soundtrack, I was playing those songs nonstop. It really helped me brave through the unsure feelings that came along with the pandemic. It made me forget my fears about the future.

I don’t feel as hopeful about things as I did back then, but JATP will always be a land-marking point in my life. It represents newfound joy, reignited passion, and abundant vivacity. As someone who loves and is extremely passionate about music, this silly little netflix show really hit me in the most sensitive places. And while I remember having a bout of serious depression after finishing the series, (along with intense rage that while I was dealing with my depression at its lowest point, the cast of jatp was living what felt like my dream) the lessons I learned from the show were far more significant. It literally brought music back into my life, no joke.

The friends I made because of JATP will always have a special place in my heart. A lot of them don’t use tumblr anymore, and I don’t use it nearly as much as I used to, but I’m still so grateful to have been introduced to such kind, accepting, and funny people. The stories, theories, headcanons, fanfictions, moodboards, inside jokes, memes, and fanart we created will always be remembered and cherished. I’m still pro-cheesecake, I’m still highly allergic to sleeves, and every time I see an unnecessary or fake zipper, I think of my fellow tumblr fantoms.

I don’t think I’ll ever truly “get over” Julie and the Phantoms. It was the first thing that truly resonated with my spirit as a new adult. I was 19 and had dropped out of college, feeling completely lost and like I had nothing going for me. Going into lockdown because of the pandemic didn’t help with any of that, and I was aimlessly, endlessly scrolling on social media, hoping to find meaning and purpose. And one day, my friend posted a clip on snapchat of what she was watching on netflix. The guy was cute and it looked like him and the girl he was next to had a nice connection so I asked what show it was. That’s how I discovered JATP, almost 2 weeks after its release. I also just have an unhealthy attachment to the show and the characters so I refuse to let this media that speaks to my soul die.

All that being said, we really deserved another season. I think it would cure me entirely, if I’m being honest. Even if it was just a little Christmas special where they decorate a tree and do those mini stories like filler episodes of a cartoon series. Hell, I’d settle for an animated JATP episode. I just think we all deserve it after what we’ve been through not only as a fandom, but as human beings. I will never forgive netflix for it’s terrible job at promoting, because they only failed when it came to this show specifically. They managed to keep every other show, even ones far less deserving of acclaim and attention, afloat during and after the pandemic. The only reason JATP managed to get anywhere was solely the cast, creators, and fans. Paul Becker was on fucking overdrive, churning out BTS videos WEEKLY. Fanfiction writers were bursting at the seams with multi-chapter series and one shots about every possible scenario. We got things trending on twitter during the two most chronically online years. Fanart was being shared like crazy, and we had the instagram fantoms so confused by the memes that they retaliated and claimed they were superior.

Meanwhile, tumblr was in its shadowbanning era, and fantoms were in the TRENCHES trying to get their content to reach beyond mutuals and taglists. We received barely any appreciation, except for when we trended on twitter asking to renew jatp and on tumblr for jatp appreciation week. Let’s not forget when we thought Owen had a secret tumblr and we all started accusing each other of being him. I will never forget when we all rallied to get Madi to 1 million followers because we didn’t want her to become overshadowed by the boys and all the attention they were getting. We all watched their instagram lives and I will always love the tumblr fantoms who made gifs of the cutest moments from those. Everyone saw me shamelessly simp over Charlie with facial hair wearing a santa onesie. We created a whole Carrie redemption arc out of thin air, we created origin stories for Rose and the Petal Pushers, and we forced the creators of JATP to give us the official last names of Reggie, Alex, and Flynn (This adventure SPECIFICALLY!!!) We were ruthless in our efforts to uncover their last names. We used breadcrumbs to make theories and speculations, only to end up begging in every comment section and dm inbox we could to get Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer, and eventually—though much, much later—Flynn Taylor. We gave Willie more crop tops, we basically storyboarded a second season, complete with episode titles and songs! We uncovered the Sunset Curve EP using the grainiest photos in existence, we created a loose timeline surrounding everyone’s birthdays, deaths, and significant events. We orchestrated a fucking CONCERT TOUR for this band. Oh, and let’s not forget when Kenny and the boys went to Hawaii. That Hawaii trip was so eventful for the fantoms, you have no idea how serious I’m being unless you were there for it. That was something unlike anything else for so many reasons. There’s a lot more, but that’s the stuff that came to mind immediately.

[ikoarts]

October 2023 Art

for some reason i wrote a novel under the cut, for those of u actually reading, thank u for being so patient x

vvv dates + info under the cut vvv

1 - 03/10/2023 : another of my faves of last year, was trying to get better at drawing trainz, so just Edward and Toby hanging out, displaying the duality of old men x

2 - 04/10/2023 : got a new puter! one of the first things i set to doing after getting set up was to draw a Ru, of course, it was also just me trying to get used to the new MS paint..... it feels very odd

3, 4, 5 - 06/10/2023 : part 1 of redrawing random pics i have of Edward on my phone with my human version of him, this was really fun tbh, and the third here is one of my fave drawings of the year probs.. like sir.. those look heavy... what big uhh.. Glasses.. you have

6, 7, 8 - 07/10/2023 : part 2! i think i just like drawing his face... dare i say this train is cunty or will that get me exiled

9 - 08/10/2023 : something stupid i thought of and couldn't get out of my head for days so had to draw it..... little johnny from oingo boingo's only a lad, doing what he does best, fantasising about radios he wants oh so bad and running people down with a boyish craving for blood.. based on that 1 meme of the guy driving and thinking of a thing then making that insane face

10 - 09/10/2023 : based on that 1 silly vargskelethor song (that could not be less specific), had Shed 17 on the brain and was reminded of the milk song where the skeleton comes out.. thomarse dank 2 much milk and died..

11, 12 - 10/10/2023 : chooshada again :333 first a little doodle on my phone bc i was wondering about her livery, i do think she'd have originally been NER apple green but then painted NWR colours, butttt with a twist... coz i can do whatever i like... the twist is just that she's painted dark blue rather than a sky blue, coz its more her colour x

ALSO MS paint shada, wanted to draw her more uh, idk, detailed ig, idk i love this one, it also served as more train practice

13 - 13/10/2023 : previous one, but with COLOUR!! not much 2 say other than that shes very cute

14 - 18/10/2023 : saw a tweet abt old photos of engine crews posing with their crashed locos and how the NWR crews would do that, made me think of how, if Toni was (choo)shada's driver, she'd do that.. probably x .. very like her to slay in the midst of a terrible accident

15 - 22/10/2023 : predictably, i have some playlists for the ttte engines, one for Diesel which is notable here, so uhh, i have the scrapped song from the lorax "biggering" in there, bc i see it as like a Duck vs Diesel song, ik im surpassing several layers of cringe here but hear me out ok... i drew this at 2am coz i couldn't stop thinking of Duck lecturing Diesel

16, 17, 18 - 25/10/2023 : speaking of playlists, think i was listening to my Robin one here, and felt like drawing him, i have "the land of make believe" in there, which ive always found to be an oddly haunting song, so this is semi based on that, though that wouldn't be apparent if i hadn't just told u x .. this looks like vent art but tis not i was just having fun

also tiny chooshada, i was in the middle of writing something which i have literally Just remembered now and i was writing a scene where Ru is stuck between some characters who shes not looking forward to working with bc they're about to bicker the whole fuckin time and one of them thinks shes a dick, so i drew her being sad that shes forced to work with morons..... and speak of the devil, 3rd drawing is here with 2 of the aforementioned morons :D i think D+D take a liking to her, they're just a little obnoxious (love them for that)

19 - 27/10/2023 : a quick(ish) digital thing of Chooshada again that i did on the side of another project, more engine drawing practice he he, she'll be out of proportion and lacking detail but really it was just to not be too hard on myself about that, it did help i think to understand how to draw her more, plus just look at her lil face... also she has a number here, doesn't mean much other than 8 being her lucky number, other than 11, like those are just her numbers, suppose i could have it be 1188 to ref her bday, idfk x

[fullmusicbardsquared]

Tell me more about that little jester guy oc you have and also the cunty person in blue with him

:o]

ok!!!! it is late at night where i am (sorry i didn't see this ask before) so apologies if this is perhapes rambling.

those 2 ocs, The Jester (self-explanatory) and Gittens RIL (blue), are a part of my silly little jukebox musical portal fantasy/isekai..thing. this story specifically involves new wave music, and i am being literal when i say the characters there are personifications of songs. to summarize it without sounding nuts the song characters work on pseudo-video game NPC logic- 'programmed' to do certain things and prioritize them. this applies to narrator characters and narrated ones- like ik this isn't new wave but a hypothetical Piano Man character would be several, the titular piano man and the people he describes in the bar.

so. isekai. The Jester is the main character and he is NOT FROM THIS WORLD!!! as is the trend with isekais. he doesn't remember his past or anything and as such the 80s-ness of the world is like being awoken with blaring synthesizers and lights. Jes finds most of the people there confusing and thinks most of the songs are annoying especially when they lead to him getting hit in the head and stuff, and this 'torment' becomes actually worse as he slowly transforms from 'human' into that little porcelain doll thing. now he has neither memories nor senses! hurrah! zounds! He Hates It So Much. his primary goal is to find out who he is and where he came from, which is hopefully less overwhelming than this world. not to say it's terrible- some people are more nice than others, though there's only one person he actually likes. my goal in writing him is to comedically hit him with hammers.

okay. Gittens RIL Time. i don't know if Gittens is cunty. But he is a personification of the Talking Heads song Born Under Punches, a song that is vaguely surreal but has repeated motifs of trying to catch up and find a stopping point, a place to breathe, 'relax'. Gittens is a government man who does government things- busy work, essentially, forever. this manifests in intense migraines and vertigo. unless he's singing (read: having a breakdown), he acts like this doesn't affect him much, and has a persona of like. flat neutral happiness. his main wish is to not have an inescapable purpose, even if it seems impossible. also he has pigeon wings and a tail but he can't fly. there are 2 reasons for this. 1) there is a pigeon called the parlor roller that is completely incapable of flight, instead somersaulting on the ground there's a metaphor here. 2) it makes him a tumbler pigeon and i love puns. he is my favorite guy i've ever made i think .

sorry this took 2 hours to answer and only has like 50 words . THANK YOU FOR ASKING HOWEVER YAYYYYY :D!!!!!<3

[hiemaldesirae]

Tis Alice! Thank you for the wonderful art as always! It made me so happy! Got art from Ran, started a new au, have a job interview tomorrow, it's a good day all around!

I'm so glad you like the finishing school au! You'll find out what Vox's secret is in time hehehehehe everybody's got some secrets in this one :) fem RadioStatic has been sitting in the back of my mind ever since I first saw your art of them and every time I see more it just got stronger until I said fine and wrote something lol I love them though.

And yeah I still wanted Alison to have the bob but give her a bit more of a reason than just having terrible hair lol

IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT AND THAT U HAD A GOOD DAY !!! also good luck on the interview tomorrow, hope you do well :)

rubbijg my hands together deviously...... determined to learn more about this new lore hehehe I LOVE THEM ALREADYY also love the fact that u picked secret for the ending song its got me even more hyped for the lore reveals. also also i am So soso glad ive managed to introduce yet another person to the wonders of fem radiostatic... god i love them so so much i need more fem radiostatic and if i cannot have it i shall create it myself

(completely valid i understand . alastors canon hair haunts me in my nightmares but i literally cannot picture him without it)