#they have each other and at this point that’s more than enough really that’s way too much to expect

[val-the-protoss-simp]

Yeah, so. The best way I can explain my thoughts on these ships (especially Artazun - Artanis/Vorazun) is using one of Avril Lavigne's most iconic songs:

He was a boy

She was a girl

Can I make it anymore obvious?

Like, I'm not trying to throw any shade at all, people can ship whatever they want. But I am yet to meet a person who ships these two that explains why they like them so much in a way that makes sense to me. Because sooner or later, their explanation boils down to "He's a guy and she's a gal so ofc they'd be into each other" as if a straight ship is some kind of default and if a story has a male main character and a female main character, they have to end up together. And I just don't see it. Them as friends? Sure, absolutely, imo they're great as friends, but not as a couple. Alarak and Artanis have way more chemistry with one another. Bit of a hot take but so does Rohana and Vorazun. But Artanis/Vorazun is about as interesting to me as watching paint dry is. It's like when you pick up a mediocre romance book where the girl character obviously ends up with the boy character because That's Just How Things Are no matter of they're good together or not. No thanks. Pass

Kerrinor is a bit more complicated in a sense that the game actively tries to convince you these two are really into each other. But if I had to sum up their vibes, I'd reach for Sk8tr Boy again. "He was a boy, she was a girl, can I make it anymore obvious?" I just don't get the romantic vibes at all off of these two. Raynor frequently comes off as an incel that gives the vibes of someone who'd insist they know better than you and just to listen to them because they know best, while also transforming into the biggest simp in the galaxy in SC2 as he pines over a woman that's obviously not into him.

And Kerrigan gives me the vibes of someone who really does wanna see more in this weird relationship, but more because she thinks having someone to love will make her feel whole and worthy of living rather than that she really wants this. Like, if shit didn't go south and she didn't get infected, I'm 100% that eventually she'd go "Yeah sorry lol this ain't gonna work." and break it off with Raynor. Like, I do think she cares deeply for Raynor, don't get me wrong, and at one point might have thought what she feels is romantic love, but eventually comes to a point where she realises that it's a sense of kinship rather than anything romantic. She loves him as a friend, that is all.

And funny enough, if you know more about his character, you know he had a wife and a son that he tragically lost. Knowing this information and how he's written, Raynor comes off to me as someone who's desperately looking for that kind of love again, albeit without realising, because the time he spent happy with his family was the happiest he ever was and his defeated, depressed ass desperately wants that again. So he seeks that shit and Kerrigan just happens to be there.

You can clearly see that he cares deeply about her, but his feelings of affection are misplaced to the point he doesn't want to see the kind of person she is and instead tries to morph her into the kind of woman HE wants. Which is not who Kerrigan is at all. Revenge is all she has left, no matter what it takes, and Raynor again and again tries to talk her out of it for his own personal wants when she makes it very very clear this isn't something she wants to do and that she cannot just let go of what Mengsk did to her and what that man's choices turned her into. And instead of trying to understand why someone he supposedly understands so deeply would want to kill the man who robbed her off of everything and turned her into a monster that killed billions, he gets butthurt when she doesn't wanna run off with him and live happily ever after. I love Raynor for many reasons, I think he's a well written character in a lot of aspects but this just. Ain't it. If the game treated this behaviour of his as a flaw, I'd dig it. But instead it tries to tell how boo boo poor Raynor is just so unfortunate to want a woman that doesn't want him, even when he ignores everything that's important to her. That's just not doing it for me, fam. I get that the game tries to ram it down my throat as the technically only canon ship it gives us in its five installments, but I can't get behind it. Kerrinor is a big fat no for me, let them just stay friends.

a ship where i see what people see but it is simply not very interesting to me personally it’s like

[r0tting-rat]

"Too much?"

A little gift for @/ping-ski, who is driving me absolutely mad with their Sugar Daddy!Eclipse to the point I couldn't help but to write down a short drabble. Some details below for those who aren't familiar with their wonderful au (GO CHECK IT OUT RN PLEASE IT'S WORTH IT)

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Eclipse (by @ping-ski) x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: Suggestive, use of alcohol/reader is tipsy. Also, sorry Pingu, he might be a bit ooc! I wasn't sure how flirty I could make him Words: 1200+ Summary: It's the winder holidays, and you just came home after a long evening spent with your dear beloved. Additional tags: Established relationship, Eclipse is a wonderful father, the kid's name is Atlas.

The weather outside is frigid, wind is howling against the tall windows, but the inside of Eclipse's house is warm and inviting. You've just come home after a very long evening with your beloved, an evening that left you feeling elated and giddy like a highschooler—a time of your life that you have long left behind, even though your cheeks still have the habit of warming up whenever your robotic lover looks your way and your stomach flutters at each time you kiss. You have waved goodbye to Esther, Atlas' nanny, just a few minutes before, and she has assured you that the little boy has been fast asleep for a few hours already. You don't miss how Eclipse smiles when she tells him how the boy asked for his "papa" before falling asleep.

"I'll cook him his favourite breakfast tomorrow," he says, more to himself than to you or Esther, "As an apology for my tardiness."

The house is silent, Atlas is soundly sleeping, and you have drunk a little more than usual at the restaurant. For no real reason! It was just a very good wine: fruity, amazingly aged, heavy on the tongue and warm in the gullet. You can still feel it when you swallow down the bile forming in the back of your throat—which is a lot, considering you have stared at Eclipse for the entire ride home, lost in the thought of kissing him as soon as his face turned your way.

You sigh as you step into your shared house, not worried about waking Atlas with the sound of your shoes on the marbled floor thanks to the good soundproofing of the rooms, and you decide to go sit on the couch to rest your tired feet. You and Eclipse had decided to take a walk around the city centre after leaving the restaurant, simply to enjoy the Christmas decorations that have been put up in every corner of the city, and before you knew it you were about to collapse. Closing your eyes, you let yourself drop on the soft cushions of the couch, but a cold hand catches you by the waist before you can truly be enveloped by the rich fabrics. Unsurprised, you open your eyes just to find an amused Eclipse staring right back down at you, half-lidded eyes and soft silicone lips extremely close to your flushed face—blush still caused by the alcohol, mind you—he chuckles, and the flush deepens just enough to reach your neck and chest. Eclipse's eyes travel down a moment to follow it as it spreads like ink on your soft skin, and you pretend not to notice that he never really goes back to look you in the eyes, stopping instead on your lips.

"How about a dance?" he asks, out of the blue, and you giggle.

"Dancing with no music? How romantic, Eclipse," you say, before realizing he's completely serious.

The animatronic hums, and immediately his grip on your waist strengthens, and that's your only warning before he pulls you back on your feet to sweep you into a mind-twisting dance. You don't understand where he's taking you, you don't understand what's around you, all you know is that one of his hands is holding one of yours, while the other is placed on the small of your back. You dance in the middle of the large living room, feeling wine-red clouds crowding your mind and your sight slightly unfocusing, and you couldn't be happier.

You don't even have to actually do anything; Eclipse has a firm hold on you, and he's always careful not to spin you too fast, in case it could upset your stomach. All you have to do is let yourself go—one hand on one of his upper arms, one of his shoulder—and allow him to manhandle you into beautiful twirls and languid strides. You rest your head on his warm chest, hearing his inner gears and pistons at work, and the world around you is so hazy you might forget it exists. You sigh and think that maybe that's actually all you need in life: a cold evening, a warm embrace, some soothing wine, and Eclipse's love.

The dance stops after just 5 minutes—which feel like hours to you—and you and your partner simply stand one in the other's arms, like two lovers painted by Klimt, sharing the same passion, familiarity, and devotion. Except, differently from Klimt's picture, your beloved is holding you with four arms instead of two.

"How do you feel?" asks Eclipse after a long pause, and the only answer you can manage to utter is a murmur, "I didn't hear you, my dearest."

"Amazingly," you finally say, groggily looking up at him, "I wanna kiss you."

"Sounds like a perfect plan," he grins, "But how do you plan to enact it? Can you even reach my face?"

He laughs, and, a little offended, you do kiss him. You stand on your tippy toes, you crane your neck, and kiss his jaw; the only spot your lips can reach, but it's enough to make him stop and look down at you, surprised that you actually took the lead.

"Wanna try again, love?" he teases, having already recovered from your kiss, leaning down a little, "Or do I need to pick you up?"

His laugh is mocking, and once more you consider showing him what you're actually capable of—should you climb him like a tree? The idea is tempting—until you stop and actually think about his words.

"Yes," you say, parting from him just to look at his beautiful mismatched eyes. "I do, actually."

Eclipse stops laughing, then hums, growing more amused by the second.

"Okay."

In less than a second you're hoisted up between his bulky arms, legs on either side of his hips, face right in front of his, and your arms thrown over his shoulders.

"Much better," you smile sweetly at him, slowly letting your hands wander to the back of his head, then to his bottom rays, which you caress with a lot of care, and lastly to his neck. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, my doll," he sing-songs, not really noticing what you're doing with your fingers until his tie comes undone on his chest and his elegant button-up opens, letting the vents placed on the side of his chest breathe in fresh air. He looks down, seeing your fingers tracing his torso while unbuttoning his shirt, and his black and golden optics widen with interest. It's your turn to grin.

"Too much?" you ask, and Eclipse begins to make a rumbling sound with his voicebox, a sound that reminds you of a purr, deep and warm when it resonates with your chest and stomach.

"Not enough," he whispers, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, toying with your breath with the way you're holding it back, afraid he could sense through it exactly how much you craved him. His voice is low, dangerous, and you feel it vibrate in the depths of your mind when he speaks. "Not nearly enough, not in any way, my doll. Let me kiss you properly this time, will you?"

You all should thank @hexcii cuz I started writing this drabble during one of our simping sessions (we take turns rambling and yapping about the dca) and yea. we both got the i'm-gay-for-robots virus.

[rcveriees]

keep it up ; prologue

master list ༉‧₊˚. previous ༉‧₊˚. next

sukuna ryomen is a plague. you’ve never been so confident in a statement until now. he’s a snarky, rude, arrogant, selfish boy.

you could’ve placed if it wasn’t for his usual lack of awareness around him. he cost you the most important trophy of your life yet! but yet, you got a lousy “participation trophy.”

you’re sitting on a bench, the awarding was done and everyone was gathered around sukuna and his annoying group of friends, their chatter of congratulations and praise towards them.

throughout these years you’ve been racing, you haven’t made many friends like he has. but you can’t complain… after all, this world isn’t yours like it’s his.

you see a pale, white haired, blue eyed boy run towards you, clad in his racing suit and a black camera in his hand. you recognize him. he won second today. he’s pretty skilled… and friendly.

“hi. hello.” he pants, his camera pointed straight at your face and pans down to the small medal on the side next to you. “mind a little interview?”

you’re not quite sure what to say, you look around, nod and shrug before muttering a small, “uh, sure.”

he hums to himself for a little, his eyes focusing on the small medal so much that it gets you embarrassed, you quickly grab it and hide it inside your palms.

he smiles. “talk about todays race.”

you shake your head, “i’m not sure what to say… i won fifth place, i could’ve gotten podium if i was a little more daring, i guess, i dunno-”

satoru shakes his head, smile unwavering as he lowers his camera slightly, putting space between you and the camera. “fifth place is still good!”

you attempt to smile back, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “thanks.”

“you did really good, especially considering you were competing with sukuna!” satoru chuckles.

you let out a bitter laugh. “yeah, he’s a pain.”

the boy tries to chuckle with you, but it comes out forced rather than the friendly way he intended dit to be. "he's my friend."

your eyes look down at your cold palms in shame. “oh.”

there’s a moment of silence, the only noise was the chatter around you both, the heavy laughs of the adults surrounding sukuna and his entourage.

the boy speaks up, “welp, i gotta go. i hafta go interview the others. bye, y/n!”

you simply wave goodbye, your eyes following his white head of hair as he runs toward sukuna.

curiostity ends up eating the inside of your brain. you try to follow behind satoru as quietly as you could possibly muster. you've never found it hard to blend in after all.

you weave through the crowd, quickly enough to catch up with the long strides of satoru, but in a way where you won't draw attention, especially from sukuna and his little entourage.

you're hiding behind a poster, the closest thing you could find to hear sukuna's interview.

"hey! congrats on the first place win, sukuna! how does it feel to stand up there as number one again?" satoru asks, the black camera pointed directly at sukuna's arrogant face.

sukuna flashes one of his signature cocky grins to the camera, "feels beyond great. it's definitely where I belong, y'know?"

you can't help but roll your eyes and scoff at his response. he's always had a big head, but it seems like it's getting bigger each race.

that's when you hear it. maybe you shouldn't have scoffed so loudly, because you felt the glare sukuna was throwing you way.

satoru, as oblivious as always, continues on with his questions. "so, what'd you think of todays compitetion, anyone stand out to you?"

sukuna can't help but chuckle, looking back you way, making direct eye contact with you, smug smirk plastered on his ridiculous face. "well, satoru, some people just don't have what it takes, y'know? that it factor. the talent. like our fifth place finisher here. maybe- just maybe if she focused more on her driving and less on whining, she’d actually get somewhere. she's not very good."

laughter erupts from his annoying ass friends, and you can't help but feel that burning sensation in you chest, you can feel the inner corners of your eyes glistening with fat tears.

so much for trying to keep a low profile.

satoru looks painfully uncomfortable, yet keeps silent. but you know better than to take it personally. after all, you're not his friend.

satoru wraps up the interview and turns off the camera. you can see sukuna's friends pat sukuna on the shoulder, laughing and joking around. for a split second, you take notice of sukuna's eyes flickering to you before dismissing you entirely.

satoru spots you and makes his way back, his expression apologetic. “i really didn’t mean to make things awkward earlier. sorry."

you shrug, forcing a smile. “it’s fine. thanks for the interview and whatever, though.”

he nods, “you have potential. don’t forget that.”

you won't lie. his words are kind, but they do very little to ease the anger and frustration inside you. you just nod before walking away from him.

you find a quiet spot to sit and reflect. the sun is setting, casting a warm glow over the track you've grown to love. you take a deep breath, trying to push aside the bitterness, but sukuna's words keep echoing in your mind like a mantra you won't ever be able to escape.

you stare at the small participation medal in your hand, the cold metal a stark reminder of your failure. fifth fucking place. not good enough. the sting of sukuna's voice cuts deeper than the loss itself.

just the thought of his smug face and your mediocre driving keeps replaying in your mind. this humiliation will forever stay with you for years. you’ll remember the way you felt so small and insignificant compare to him.

as you walk toward the bus stop, you see the setting sun casting long shadows over the road, you vow to yourself that one day, you’ll prove him wrong. it may not be tomorrow, the day after that, but it will happen.

off the track:

— wow i finally updated the smau i had been planning for months?!?!

— i’m shaking with excitement heheheh

— little insight to the characters :-3

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@qyuin @sukunawhores @definitelynotanalien @jinxiewritings @charlie-xo @clp-84 @aestheticallyvini @wxcuskly @frootloopscos @kunasthiast @stargirl-mayaa @ethereally-lyann @tillaboo @chososcamgirl @lauuriiiz @tibibibi123 @rriwyu @cupidsblonde @ur-average-simp @mayyhaps @augustsjournal @mmeerraa @sa4vvyyt

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[pluralsword]

reminder that Theodore Roosevelt was considered a progressive in his time, the same guy who y'know, did the Square Deal (which megacorps would like us all to not ask the government to use) and gave a speech about the importance of American empire to the Navy. To us the word is politically meaningless. It either is socialists afraid to call themselves socialists because of the brain poison over that word (particularly in the USA) or it's imperialists talking about the 'progress of civilization' or neocolonial development (eugh) and sometimes it's all three! Utilitarian progressivism is the bane of our existence and such a quick ally or propagator to having a police state, to eugenics, to gatekeeping trans people, imperialist bioconservationism that erases indigenous people and their ways of life from cohabitation with nature (just a little reminder btw, plants can communicate with each other via roots and lichens, and even scream when cut but the scream is too high pitched for us humans to hear, so telling people not to eat the meat of animals they live around is also ignorant in this respect too), to reactionary and far right stuff in general, all in the name of the means justify the ends.

Our study of gender has led us to the conclusion that there can be epistemic shifts that come with gender realizations but these are in no way intrinsic guarantees of actually being open minded and compassionate. we don't have the spoons to get into this rn and yes we do write about this more in depth and may eventually try to put forth / release papers about it (we really prefer writing fiction, take bets on what comes out first our original fiction oracle dice-procedural ttrpg board game or the novel or the papers we need to edit that don't cover this in as much detail as our prose does because fkldskjfalsdfjkslkdfkjdlasd and there some indie games out there that we've seen that do try to play around with something similar to this idea) but like we said yeah. nothing inherent. it's kind of like how having autism can mean having more resistance to internalization of some but not necessarily all hierarchic norms and behaviors - which y'know fun fact there's a significant overlap between autistic and trans people and wowee do we have an ongoing phrase at this point of 'is there really such a thing as a trans community,' because we definitely are not all in lockstep politically (which btw even if we all agreed on civil rights and collectivism we still think even then we shouldn't be in lockstep on everything because having multiple cooperating regime types allows us to learn from each other and to preserve/restore and create new historically particular socioeconomic systems. we don't want just one way, but then, we're a cosmopolitanist pluralist so that's not surprising). stares with pity at homonationalists don't get us started on that can you see why we prefer to engage with eternal existential questions and themes of transformation through fiction where we can at least work from a perspective of a long history of a near utopian interstellar multispecies society that has never had near full severance of intergenerational knowledge of collectivism and gender or even when there is there is such a rooted common heritage it defines the conflict - than to write nonfictionally as often solely about how things are now or were (we are working on a thing that isn't solely that, and did finish something last year we're very proud of). so we apologize in advance if this post is not enough of an answer

Contrary to the epistemic practices of 2010s-era Tumblr, I'm afraid there are no identity groups that are intrinsically progressive. Shocking, I know.

[hyog-blog]

Fangs of Fortune: The Game of Yin and Yang

I love how Zhao Yuanzhou is basically embodying the philosophy of Yin and Yang, which is much more flexible and practical than the old-fashioned Christianity-inspired good vs. evil dichotomy.

And because it is Chinese philosophy, we don't get too much of that black-and-white nonsense in the show, but instead, we get to explore 50,000 shades of black, white, and gray playing with each other beautifully. And what better way to convey the ambiguous nature of this world, which seems so bent on the Duality of literally everything, than to take the Evilest Force in the world and attach the most gentle, caring, and loving soul to it (to torment both that soul and everyone who gets to witness this torment).

I mean, the recipe is nearly perfect, it really is. And not only do we get to see this evil mixed with a hefty portion of good (like that drop of white inside the Yin-Yang symbol), but we also get to see the perfectly good and innocent characters mixed with a hefty drop of black (like Bai Jiu who got possessed by Li Lun).

Children are considered by society as the most innocent creatures (okay, Bai Jiu is a teenager, but he could still pass), that's why getting him taken over by someone so dark and broody and ill-intended like Li Lun hits even harder. Like all that innocence becomes tainted by something so bad. And at the same time, being a supposedly innocent child, we also see that Bai Jiu really isn't stainless himself (and he got to explore a bit of his darker side when he betrayed his friends).

And yet, it is also Li Lun, who is not someone abysmally bad (he's just lost, and wounded, and a bit more on the demonic spectrum when it comes to ethics and morality), who gets attracted to that light and purity to get a chance at redemption (which he does get in the end!). It's as if being in that body, chatting with those people, experiencing some friendliness before he got exposed actually mattered to the point that it changed him as well (and thus, that droplet of light in the blackness of Yin started doing its magic, slowly transforming the darkness, giving hope to someone who has seemingly lost it).

There's also Zhuo Yichen and his ability to see the good for what it is and his inability to see evil where there is none. Like, if it was someone else (even in real life probably) they would righteously hate Zhao Yuanzhou no matter what (maybe even knowing that he had no choice but to kill all those people). But this young man not only sees the good in Zhao Yuanzhou, that droplet of light that shines brighter than all that malicious energy, but he actually has enough goodness in him to forgive ZYZ.

Because Zhuo Yichen's beautiful soul, no matter how innocent and pure, has seen despair and lived through so much grief that it also changed him, making him more empathetic than most people (and that's yet another thing that Zhuo Yichen and Zhao Yuanazhou have in common - they both got transformed by the heaviness of their grief, two perfectly gentle creatures who just had to explore the depth of human and demon suffering, and that's why they meet on level ground).

And what makes their relationship especially beautiful, is that they both came to the same point, but moving from different directions of the spectrum - Zhao Yuanzhou was clinging onto his own light in the Ocean of Darkness, but that light was piercing enough for him to survive and remain himself. Zhuo Yichen was light that had lived through pain and grief of unimaginable proportions, and it changed him, but it didn't drag him down into that Ocean of Darkness.

It's a type of equilibrium, and they both, each in their own right, continue looking for ways to find balance in their lives (and then they meet each other and it changes them again). Zhuo Yichen sees that there's always light in the darkness (and Zhao Yuanzhou is a stark example of it), for Zhao Yuanzhou - Zhuo Yichen is that light shining brightly, reminding him that it actually exists, and it grants him absolution. And it also makes things especially painful for him because his darkness (that malicious force) tainted that light (but it didn't, really, it transformed ZYC into something more).

And when Li Lun gives his energy/life force to Zhuo Yichen, and then when ZYC gives all those powers, adding his own, to Zhao Yuanzhou for him to break the barrier and kill Wen Zongyu - this is the reflection of the same Yin and Yang principle, the all-pervasive energies penetrating into each other, becoming one another, ever-changing. Basically what they're saying with this is "I am you and you are me and there's no difference." And not even some magic barrier can stop those energies from becoming one.

Zhuo Yichen actually understood Zhao Yuanzhou even before he got turned into a demon himself (and once again we're shown that it's not that the demons are all bad, you can still choose what to be even if you turn into one, and if you have that droplet of light inside of you, like the Yin and Yang, there's always a chance it will overpower even the borderless Darkness, be it inside a human or a demon heart).

We also get to see how that droplet of light comes in the form of love into Zhao Yuanzhou's life (from Wen Xiao, Zhuo Yichen, and the rest of their little gang), and it slowly transforms him, a very depressed being, who's already suicidal, and in the end, he actually feels alive enough to not want to die. That transformative power of light is actually limitless.

In the show, we see people come out of the darkness of their souls and bad states and depressions to see the light of something more, but then there's also the main bad guy who turned full-on evil because his wife was killed, and we see how that droplet of darkness pushed that person to the brink of becoming a murderer and torturer of both humans and demons.

And there's also the notion of Li Lun with that one thing, one betrayal, one drop of darkness changing him and bringing him close to the brink of turning full-on evil himself (he pretty much is at some point, but he never loses the ability to feel, it's just that he can't process his own grief, pain, and all those emotions that are eating him up). And even for him, who has gone so far, there was still a chance to get back (which he does, having experienced the transformative power of Zhao Yuanzhou's love that has never disappeared). So Li Lun's life is spared and he transfers himself into that piece of root that Zhu Yan saved, for he never stopped caring about Li Lun, and the latter could finally see that in the end.

Even with Wen Xiao, we see how something 'bad' (the death of her father) leads to something 'good' - she is found by the Goddess and later becomes a Goddess herself and gets to meet Zhao Yuanzhou. It's all so relative and nuanced that we can't really say that something is actually good or bad, just like with the show's characters and their personal journeys.

And don't get me started on Ying Lei, the ultimate sunshine boy, who gets dragged into the dark world of human-demon relationships, vengeance, and doomed narrative to pave a path of his own. Sometimes a droplet of light does drown in the Ocean of Darkness, but it still makes a huge difference and transforms everyone's lives before it finally fades away (that, and other people's doomed narratives may also be contagious if you go deep into those relationships). Well, we can argue that his narrative was also doomed from the start but that's a topic for a different essay XD

I just love how the show is not only about good fighting evil, the whole fight is like a veil, a premise, a stage to tell a story about characters that are much more complex than that very familiar dichotomy. And just like in life, good things sometimes lead to bad consequences, and bad deeds can bloom into something wonderful against all odds.

[cupidbedsy]

▷ we'll be okay ; the film effect

➪ summary: two weeks after their fight, gabe and will still aren't talking which leaves everyone around them worried and annoyed. with molly's help, gabe finds a way to apologize to will and he knows they'll be okay, or at least he hopes

➪ warnings: gabe and will's fight, gabe being insecure and self-conscious of his feelings, will being mad still... i think that's it

➪ word count: 6.0k

➪ file type: au (the film effect) fic

➪ cupid's notes: yay they made up ! anyway, this is probably one of my favorite things i've written and i really hope you guys like it <3

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

Gabe had all but thrown himself into hockey these past few weeks. If he wasn’t in class, he was at the rink, if he wasn’t doing homework, he was at the rink, if he wasn’t eating, he was at the rink. It had seemed like the only thing in his life that he could control right now and he was going to take advantage of that. 

This had been the longest time he had ever gone without talking to Will, two weeks. It had been two weeks since he had blown up at Mack with his boyfriend and girlfriend watching, two weeks since he’s fucked up the most important thing in his life, and two weeks since he’s felt like he’s lost two of the most important people in his life. Two weeks of nonstop hockey and nights that consisted of 3-4 hours of sleep if he was lucky. 

Will himself couldn’t think straight even when he was at the rink. The words he said were engraved in his mind, closely followed by words he had heard. It was all beginning to overwhelm him. Which made ignoring people seem like the safest choice, he wouldn’t fuck up any more than he already had and nobody could get mad at him for doing something, so that’s what he did. 

He felt guilty each time he swiped away a text from Molly, each time he declined an invitation to hang out with Mack, each time he had said no to a team dinner or celebrating a win. Still, that guilt slowly just became another numb feeling he had, one that he shoved into the back of his mind. 

Molly, on the other hand, has had two weeks of nonstop worrying and annoyance. If it wasn’t Will she was worried about it was Gabe, if it wasn’t Gabe it was her grades, if it wasn’t her grades… well it was legit anything else that the universe had decided to throw at her just to fuck with her. And she, quite frankly was over it. 

She had spent a great deal of time sending text messages to her boyfriends, most of which went either unseen or unreturned. And if she was lucky enough that they had replied, it was a short and to-the-point text that consisted of ‘I’m fine. Have practice in an hour, talk later’ to which, they never really did talk later. 

She was starting to lose her mind at this point, if the two of them couldn’t figure this out on their own and wouldn’t accept help to figure this out, she wasn’t sure what that meant for the three of them. She wasn’t sure if this would be the end of them. Maybe she was being dramatic, but she had a right to be when Gabe and Will stuck her in the middle of their drama. She wasn’t about to pick sides, but it sure was a hell of a lot easier to get Gabe into shape when he was just down the street. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The rink was colder than she had remembered, she hadn’t stepped foot in one since the fight, too many memories that she didn’t want to recall. She wrapped her jacket tighter around her, navigating through Conte Forum like it was her second home. 

The sound of skates on ice and sticks against pucks welcomed her as she got closer to where Gabe was in the middle of the ice, shooting pucks relentlessly at the net. When she found out he had been here, she hadn’t really been shocked, it was the same answer she had been getting any time she texted one of his teammates or stopped by his place. 

After the tenth shot at the net, she called out his name, halting his movements. She could see the way his body went rigid when he heard her voice, watching as he shook his head before going back to shooting as if he had only imagined it. 

“Gabe, please. Talk to me.”

He ignored her, continuing his movements. Despite knowing she could get in trouble by walking with her street shoes over the ice, she did it anyway, making her way towards him with slow movements, trying not to fall. It took her a minute to reach him, stopping him just as he lined up to take another shot, hand resting on his shoulder, “Baby.”

Her touch, or the nickname, caused him to stop completely, resting his stick by his side and head dropping down to look at his feet. The way he turned around to face her was like he was physically restraining himself from doing so, but her gentle touch and soft coaxing voice made him cave quickly. 

He still avoided her gaze as he came to a stop after turning around, looking quite literally anywhere but her face. He let her take his hand in hers, let her press a kiss to his cheek, let her eyes wander over his body searching for any signs of injury or exhaustion (which he knew she found plenty of), but when her fingers gripped his jaw, he did not let her turn his head. 

“Don’t,” He tried to make his voice sound stern and forceful, but it came out weak and cracked like he was gasping for another breath of air. 

“Look at me, Gabe.” 

He had to admit, she had done a much better job of making her voice sound stronger than he had. His eyes finally trailed over to her, crumbling as soon as their gazes met. She watched as tears brimmed in his eyes, reaching up to rub her thumb across the dark circle underneath one of them. He hadn’t allowed himself to cry since that night, and her bringing him into a hug made him break down fully, stick clattering to ice as he practically went limp in her arms. 

They stayed like that for a while, Molly’s hand in his hair and his arms wrapped around her waist as best as he could. The hoodie he was wearing felt so baggy on him that he was sure he had lost some weight over the past weeks, but that was just another thing he would worry about later. 

When he finally calmed down enough to pull away and wipe his tears, he could feel the cold seeping into his bones, shivering slightly as he removed himself from her warmth. She gave him a small smile, bending down to grab his stick, “Let’s go back to mine, yeah?”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

A nice hot shower and a change of clothes later only made Gabe feel marginally better, but it was progress. That was what he told himself as sat on her bed, feet dangling off while watching her ruffle through draws until she found two Wii remotes and turned to him with a grin, “For old times sake?”

“Yeah.” He reached for one of them, moving over so she could sit next to him as he watched the Mario Kart screen load, clicking buttons until the character selection screen popped up. His cursor hovered between Mario and Luigi before he finally clicked on Luigi. 

The hesitation caused a slight crack in Molly’s heart, maybe she was expecting him to pick Mario, he always argued with Will over whether or not who was who until he gave in at one glance at Will’s puppy dog eyes and let him pick Mario. 

She clicked Donkey Kong, her favorite character for some unknown reason but she played as him every time and she had no intentions of stopping now. She let him pick the first course, and she wasn’t surprised when the familiar opening to DK Summit popped up. No matter how many times they played, they would always do the same order; DK Summit, Luigi Circuit, Mario Circuit, and then Rainbow Road, which they can all confidently say that they haven’t gotten first place yet, but it’ll happen… one day.

They played for the next hour, doing the same four courses over and over again, as they sat in silence beside the music and sounds of the game. When Molly crossed the finish line of Rainbow Road for the fifth time, she set the remote aside, looking over at him, “Ready to talk?”

Everything in Gabe’s mind screamed no, but for the first time in a while, he felt like he could breathe without sending himself into a panic attack. While one small step at a time was good for some people, he just wanted to get it all out of the way as quickly as possible. Why stop when he had so much motivation?

He gave her a small nod because even though he was ready to talk, he wasn’t sure how to start. She took his controller from him, setting them both on her desk before climbing back up on the bed. She smiled when his hand reached for hers, letting out a sigh of relief that went unnoticed by him. 

“What did you say?”

He closed his eyes for a minute, a little piece of him still trying to figure out if there was a way out of this but he quickly realized that there was no turning back. So taking a deep breath, he started talking, “Told him that I was annoyed with Mack being around all the time and that I thought he was trying to steal-”

He cut himself off, just the thought of Will’s name made his stomach churn. She nodded, “And what did he say?”

“Told me I was a child, was acting like a spoiled kid who wasn’t getting his way, and that I wasn’t trying to be friends with Mack, but he’s right I wasn’t.”

“You weren’t, yeah. But that doesn’t mean he also had to discredit your feelings.”

“But-”

“Gabe, let me tell you something. You have every right to feel how you feel, how you feel is appropriate to feel, I am a strong believer in that. But that also means that Will does too, and maybe it’s time that both of you start seeing it from each other’s point of view. This is not just a one-sided thing, both of you were wrong and both of you were right. Both of you said harsh and mean things, and both of you didn’t say a lot of things you wanted to say. 

“There is more to this than just you being jealous and Will being frustrated. There are many layers and it is going to take time to go through every single emotion you and him are feeling, but I know you love him and I know he loves you, and I know both of you would take the time to talk it out.”

Her words raced through his head, trying to cling to every single piece of information she was saying. It made sense, he knew that. He knew that there were things he could’ve said, maybe should’ve said but didn’t. He knew that Will’s words were right but also harsh.

“He won’t even talk to me.”

“And how do you know that? Have you tried texting him?”

“No.” He mumbled, pink coating his cheeks as he lied. He had reached out to him but didn’t want to voice that Will hadn’t responded out loud. It would make the rejection all too real. 

“That’s what I thought. I am not saying that you have to put more effort in than he does or vice versa, but maybe that’s what he needs to know you’re serious about this.”

Gabe bit his lip, that sounded like a good idea, but what could he do to make it up to him? He wasn’t about to send him a shit ton of flowers or gifts or fly to California with a script of words he wants to say, for two reasons. 1. He wasn’t the type of person to do that and 2. Will deserved more.

“Maybe you could… I don’t know, talk to Mack? Apologize, tell him you want to be friends, and move past this.”

He did feel bad for what he said, that was never okay and he knew it as soon as the words left his mouth but anger clouded any form of judgment he might’ve had in the moment. The past two weeks had given him time to reflect and he knew every negative feeling towards Mack had felt wrong and unjustified.

Will had never given Gabe a reason not to trust him, so the moment he said Mack wasn’t trying to get with him he should’ve believed him. And he should’ve seen the blatant attempt of approval Mack was seeking every time he would talk, or try to talk to him. He knew he was a jerk, a dick, every single synonym on this planet for ‘dumbass’ and ‘asshole’ was what he would use to classify himself right now. 

He would apologize to Mack, he would make it up to Will and Molly, and he would make it up to himself. Well, the first two were objectively more important, he could get around to making it up to himself. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The next day Gabe sat with Molly in the student center, Gabe anxiously fiddling with his phone as he deleted and added words to his ongoing apology to Mack and Molly sat with her knees tucked into her chest, planning out a new film idea for class. 

She looked up at him, eyes growing fond as she saw him, “It doesn’t have to be perfect, baby. Why don’t you just start by texting him hi, I don’t think Mack really wants to get out of practice to see over 200 words of you rambling.”

“Oh ha ha, you’re so funny. You should be a comedian if being behind the camera doesn’t work out for you.”

“Actually, I think I’ll make it my part-time job, but I have two years to figure that out. Plus why would I need to be a comedian when I’d have two rich NHL boyfriends?”

He stared at her, looking back down at his phone, “Yeah if I haven’t scared one of them off already.”

Her smile had turned downwards, a frown across her face now as she reached out to hold his hand, “He still loves you.”

“I know I just-” He fiddled with his phone case, pulling the corner off before putting it back on. He wasn’t sure how to express the doubt in his mind, if that was even what he could call it. Maybe if he denied the feeling long enough it would just go away and he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore. 

“That’s another thing you have to stop doing.” It was like Molly could read him from the inside out and he didn’t know if he was supposed to be grateful or terrified about it. 

He glanced up at her, “Doing what?”

“Shoving everything to the back of your mind. I know you don’t always want to share what’s going in that head of yours, but that’s what we’re here for.”

We’re. She said it so casually that it dug into him the slightest bit, he didn’t deserve Will’s obsessive worrying and him caring about him, not after everything he said to him. 

He looked back at his phone, swiping into his text messages to send Mack a ‘hi’ like she had told him to. She was right, she always was, but he wouldn’t tell her that in fear of her ego inflating more than it already was. 

When he clicked send, he placed his phone down on the table, watching her as she continued going between writing things down and editing footage on her laptop. He had missed being in her presence, he shouldn’t have shut her out, she did nothing wrong to deserve it and he and Will had placed her in the middle of them, again.

“I’m sorry.”

She looked up, pushing her glasses onto her head as she fully abandoned her work now, “I already told you you didn’t need to apologize-”

“Not for the fight, I mean yes but- fuck. I’m sorry we put you in the middle of us, you shouldn’t have to deal with us both being grade-A assholes and shouldn’t have to choose between us. We’re your boyfriends, not your friends who are fighting over you. And for shutting you out these past couple weeks, I should’ve come to you and talked to you but I just- I felt like I wasn’t allowed to, or at least that’s what my brain was telling me.” 

He trailed off, unsure of how to continue his apology. When he looked back at her, he saw the soft expression on her face and knew that he said enough, or at least enough for her to grasp what he was trying to say, and at that moment, he knew at least the two of them would be okay.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

It wasn’t until Gabe and Molly were at lunch that Mack responded to him. His phone lit up with the notification and Molly was the first to notice it, nodding her head towards the device. He opened the phone to see the text, it was just as short as he had been, a simple ‘Hey’. He was surprised when another text came through quickly after, ‘Everything okay?’

He should’ve expected it, he had never texted Mack on his own accord. Scratch that, he had never texted Mack, period. If he needed something from Will and he wasn’t responding he would make Molly text Mack and ask if he was asleep. 

Molly watched as her boyfriend’s face went through the five stages of grief before she talked, “What did he say?”

“Asked if everything was okay,” Gabe murmured, setting his fork down and taking his phone into both hands, staring down at his lap.

“Just send your mini essay. It’s going to be fine, Gabe. I promise. Mack understands already, trust me, he would want nothing more than to put this all behind him and actually be friends with you.”

He nodded, but that was it. She went back to eating as he copied and pasted his rant from his notes into the message bar. After rereading it 10 times, he thought it was decent enough to send, it wouldn’t make up for the countless times he had ignored him and what he had said the other day, but it bridged the gap in their soon-to-be friendship. 

He put his phone back down, shoving it under his leg, knowing Mack would spend at least two minutes reading everything he had spilled to him made him anxious. He took a bite of his food, trying to continue his conversation with Molly in the meantime. 

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

If Gabe had a dollar for every right thing Molly had said today he wouldn’t need to sign an NHL contract to be a millionaire. Okay, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration but it was true, she had said so many right things today that he didn’t know why he didn’t listen to her in the first place. 

He had spent that last hour texting Mack about random things and becoming friends after Mack had written an extensive text about how he wasn’t totally upset but was grateful for his apology. Maybe they were more alike than he thought they were. 

However, the distraction Mack was providing slowly faded away when he got his newest text from him, ‘Have you talked to Will yet?’

Thankfully, Molly had been next to him when he got the text and gave him a comforting smile, “Would it be easier to talk about it out loud?”

He nodded, yeah she knew him too well. So Molly called Mack from her phone, propping it against her pillows as the two sat on her bed, waiting for him to answer. His face lit up the screen seconds later, and from the space behind him, he was in his apartment. 

“Will’s not here,” his voice was soft as he got himself comfy on his bed. “He went out with some of the guys earlier.”

Molly’s hand wrapped around Gabe’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze that urged him to talk, “I sent him a few texts, sometime last week but he never responded and I haven’t tried since.”

“You did? I thought you said you didn’t.”

“I did, but- it’s not important right now, Molls.”

She gave him a hesitant nod before turning her attention to Mack, “I send him a couple a day, only replies with short answers, can’t get much out of him.” 

“Yeah he doesn’t talk much but he acts like everything’s okay. I know the team knows something's wrong, Logan’s tried to get him to go out with them and this is the first time he accepted it.” 

“I don’t know what to do.” Gabe’s voice was small, like a child who was admitting that they broke their parents' beloved vase. “If he won’t talk to me, and he’s barely talking to you and Molls…:

“I think you guys should come out here, this weekend. I know you got a game Friday so I guess after that or Saturday? You could come to the game and then you can talk it out, plus it’s our last game before Four Nations so then he could always go back with you guys.”

The two thought about it, it did sound like a good plan. But would it work out, the two had no clue. No risk, no reward. The thought echoed through Gabe’s mind. He knows he said he wasn’t the type of person to just fly out spontaneously, but that was before he apologized to Mack.

“We’ll be there.”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

When they stepped into SAP Center, their nerves heightened. Even though Will was however many feet away from them they felt as if he just knew they were there, and that made unease flow through them naturally. 

Gabe had spent the past few days preparing for what he was going to say tonight, and even now he still didn’t know what he was going to. But once again, that was a thought for later, all he wanted to do right now was enjoy watching the game and enjoy having Molly by his side as she had for the past week since she set him straight. 

Despite what he told himself, he did think about what he was going to say almost the whole game, during play, during intermission, during timeouts, it was a constant battle of trying to watch the game as he typed away on his phone. 

“You know, if you keep stressing about it, it’s only going to make it worse. It might not be as bad as you think it’s going to be.” Molly’s voice cut through all the screaming and cheering after Toffoli scored a goal. 

He only answered when the crowd settled again, “I know. Kind of hard to convince my mind of that though.”

“Trust me, I know it is. But sometimes you have to override that thought, Gabe. It’s not going to get easier if you don’t stick up for yourself against yourself.”

“Are you sure you shouldn’t be a writer or some shit?”

“Yeah, almost failed English in high school. Which is why I just come up with the ideas and let my friends write them. Not my strong suit, I just work the camera.”

He gave her a half-smirk, “So you’re the behind-the-scenes guy?”

“Mhm. Always plotting.”

“M’sure you are.”

More cheers rang out and the two turned their attention to where a group of blue jerseys swarmed together on the ice, the clock had ticked down faster than they thought it would, faster than they wished it would.

They sat, watching as most of the fans made their way out of the arena and back to their cars. By the time they found the will to move, only half the arena’s seats were still filled and they were both sure it was just to watch the interview that was happening on the ice. 

Will had gotten first star of the game after two goals and two assists, beaming as brightly as he could. The two could tell from where they sat that there was dimness in his eyes, tightness in his voice as he spoke to the interviewer, and stood with a tense figure as he tried to make it through. 

It was nice to hear his voice, it was the first time they heard it in person since that day, strictly relying on old voice memos and videos if they wanted to hear it. They hadn’t realized how much they loved getting those from him until they stopped. 

They got up out of their seats once he left the ice, making their way down to the tunnel to wait for him. Mack was the first to come out and both of them couldn’t help the disappointment that covered their face when they didn’t see the usual blond mop of curls trailing behind him. 

He gave them a small smile once he saw them, bringing Molly into a hug and giving Gabe whatever weird handshake thing boys usually did. Molly let herself smile at the interaction, it was just a step closer to working everything out, and she was proud of him for it. 

“It’ll probably be a few before he comes out, he’s just been sitting in there after games until he absolutely has to leave and then he’ll start getting ready to go.”

Gabe let out a low hum in acknowledgment, eyes fluttering back to where he knew his boyfriend could walk out at any minute. Then they fell into an easy conversation, mostly about what they had been doing the past few weeks and other random things that had come up. 

“Mack didn’t know what a date was.”

“Like going on a date or…?”

“You two I swear to god. The fruit!”

“Oh. There’s a fruit?”

Will wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not as he turned the corner, stopping when he caught sight of the three who were laughing about something he couldn’t figure out. Blinking steadily, he pinched himself on the wrist and when the small burst of pain shot through him, he knew for a fact that his girlfriend, his best friend, and his boyfriend were all talking and having a good time like nothing had happened. 

He was sure he was angry, but again he didn’t know what he had been feeling these two weeks, everything he felt would just turn numb in the hours after he acknowledged it. He gained the courage to walk the few steps towards them, closing the gap. 

Molly saw him first, biting her lip and falling silent as she looked at him; dark circles, eyebags, exhaustion, everything was the same as when she saw Gabe earlier in the week. Gabe and Mack didn’t take long to recognize her silence, following her gaze to where Will stood, clad in his suit and hair wet from the quick shower he took. 

“They flew out this morning,” Mack’s voice was soft, like every other time he had tried to speak to Will since everything had happened. 

He gave a brief nod, letting his eyes go from Molly to Gabe and then back to Molly and back to Gabe, before settling on his friend again, “I’m ready to go.”

Both Molly and Gabe’s hearts cracked at his cold tone, feeling as if he didn’t care that they were there. Mack placed a handout, stopping Will from walking any further away from them, “Hear him out please.”

“And you know what he has to say?” He kept his volume low, trying not to let the emotion that flooded his voice show. 

“He texted me earlier this week, Tuesday,” Mack started, he hadn’t told him about his conversation with Gabe and Molly, or at least until now. “Apologized, for everything. And then we just talked. He really is sorry Will. I don’t think he would’ve reached out to me if he wasn’t.”

Will took in the information, trying to process it but it just floated around in his head like a fly he couldn’t catch. When he looked back over to the two, his tone had softened but he still kept his guard up, “You coming?”

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

The car ride to Mack and Will’s apartment was all quiet, no one spoke as turns were made and lights were passed. They pulled into the parking lot of the apartment complex, sitting in heavy silence for a few minutes before getting out of the car. 

Molly and Gabe took the stairs while the other two rode the elevator up. They got two flights of stairs in when Molly murmured, “It’s going to be okay, we’re going to be okay.”

“Mhm, I know. Or at least I hope I do.”

They reached their floor a couple of minutes later, walking out of the stairwell to see Mack and Will deep in conversation with each other. It didn’t take long for them to notice the two, letting them follow them to their apartment. 

Mack stuck his key in, turning and unlocking the door before pushing it open and letting the three step inside. The four kicked their shoes off and then just stood there awkwardly. Frustration grew in Mack’s head before he eventually was over Gabe being too scared to admit his wrongs and Will being too stubborn to let him speak, “Okay. I’m done with this.”

Eyes fell on him but he ignored their stares and wrapped a hand around both of their arms before leading them towards Will’s room and shoving them in there, “Do not come out until this shit is fixed. You two aren’t the only ones suffering because of this.”

Will and Gabe turned to Molly who stood there nervously, fiddling with her hands and rocking back and forth on her heels. They softened simultaneously, Mack was right, they had put her through enough and it was time they fixed that and made it up to her, but they couldn’t do it without talking it out with each other first. 

The door closed and left the two alone in the confines of Will’s bedroom, hoodies and shirts were lying on the ground, takeout containers shoved in the overflowing trashcan, and a heavy, musty smell took over their senses. 

“Sorry about the mess.” Will started picking up shirts and throwing them in his laundry basket, his need to stress clean overwhelming him. 

Gabe’s hand grabbed ahold of his wrist, stopping him from moving, “Don’t do that, not now. Please.”

He didn’t face him, not yet, staring at his crumbled sheets from when he didn’t even attempt to make his bed this morning. He felt Gabe’s hand move down to his hand, lacing their fingers together. That was when he turned, looking over his face and seeing the tiredness that was written over it, he was sure it matched the tiredness on his own. 

He gave him a nod, allowing him to go on, “I’m sorry- I know I’m sorry doesn’t fix anything, let me speak, please.”

Gabe knew that when Will opened his mouth he was going to let out something along the lines of ‘sorry isn’t going to cut it’, he always did. He guided him to sit on the bed before he sat next to them, keeping their fingers intertwined. 

“I know what I said was wrong and hurtful, I never should’ve said what I said to Mack and I never should’ve said what I said to you, even though I did mean it, a little bit.” Gabe’s thumb started absentmindedly running over Will’s knuckles, a habit he had gained whenever he had started to become restless or anxious, “And while I am sorry about how I chose to… display my feelings, I’m not going to apologize for how I felt. 

“For a while, it was easy to pass the feelings off as jealousy and whatnot but the more and more the two of you hung out and the more and more the two of you were in videos together, I think it made me realize how much I missed just having you as a teammate and how different it was not to have you around. 

“You’ve never done anything to make me feel like you would cheat on me or whatever and I should’ve recognized that a lot earlier. I also should’ve acknowledged you’re point of view on this. I know Mack has been there for you since the beginning of the season and I know how much he means to you and I shouldn’t have let my feelings and insecurities get in the way of your friendship.”

He took a deep breath, unsure if he had said enough or if he should keep going. But before he could let his mind spiral into more thoughts and choices, he heard Will’s voice and the soft squeeze of his hand, “I’m sorry too.”

Will was overcome with emotions from Gabe’s apology and honestly, he didn’t even have to say all of it to know he meant it, from the moment he found out that he had reached out to Mack on his own accord he had forgiven him, maybe even before that. 

“I know that no matter what I say is going to live up to that,” the two let out wet chuckles before he continued. “But I am sorry for saying that you were acting like a child. I also should’ve seen things from your perspective and I didn’t, and it probably would’ve made a lot more sense if I had.”

He let himself reach up to run a hand through Gabe’s hair which made him instantly melt into his touch. He listened as Will continued speaking but most of the words fell deaf upon his years. He should be listening, he knew that, but he was just so grateful to actually talk to them that the topic at hand didn’t really matter. 

Meanwhile, Mack and Molly sat in the living room where Molly was critiquing a shitty movie he had put on, it was one of her favorite stress-relieving tactics. 

“How’re you holding up?”

She sighed, nibbling on her bottom lip, “Okay.”

“You’re not.”

“I know.” She curled her knees into her chest, fidgeting with her earrings, “Do you know how hard it is to make two 19-year-olds speak to each other?”

Mack laughed, bringing her into a side hug, “Do you know how hard it is having to deal with a mopey and frustrated Will?”

“Probably the same as dealing with an insecure and guilt-ridden Gabe.”

They heard the click of the door, heads snapping towards it to see the two walk out of the bedroom still hand-in-hand. When she saw it, she smiled and let out a sigh of relief, making her way over to them. She brought them into a hug, her grasp firm, “Please tell me you two are okay.”

“We are sweetheart,” Gabe’s hand brushed the strands of hair that fell into her face behind her ear, pressing a kiss to her head, “We are.”

“I’m sorry we put you in the middle of this, we never should’ve done it and-”

“If one of you apologizes to me one more time, I’m seriously going to lose my fucking mind more than I already have. And if you two ever and I mean ever fight like that again, I’m breaking up with you.”

Will nodded, kissing her temple, “I don’t doubt it, sweet girl. I don’t.”

Mack stood from the couch, making his way to his room to give the three their privacy. He only made it halfway before a call of his voice stopped him in his tracks, turning to see Gabe staring at him. He raised his eyebrow in question, “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He just nodded in response, continuing his trek to his room. Will watched the exchange before looking back down where Molly stood, bringing the two of them closer together. At that moment, for the first time in two weeks, all three of them knew that they were going to be okay.

꒰ THE FILM EFFECT TAGLIST ꒱

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THE FILM EFFECT MASTERLIST ; AU'S

TAGLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION

[kinardsevan]

i gotta ask, how much do you love me?

say what, another mini!? i'm in a mood tonight 😂😂😂 also, i've always kinda lived with this idea of these two having a shared playlist where they would send each other music back and forth, so that birthed this idea.

It’s weeks of silence. Both of them looking at their phones eight, ten, twelve times a day—on a good day—to see if the other has said anything. Seeing bubbles form, only to disappear. Staring at each other’s contact information, just waiting for the other break the ice. 

Except, Tommy can’t, because he was the one to break them, and he knows it was the right move. He knows he doesn’t deserve Evan, and he knows that even if he gave in and went back, he’d be setting himself up for failure. So he types and deletes. Types and deletes. Types. Deletes. Struggles to maintain his own strength in his resolve each time he sees Evan’s name on his phone.

For Evan, it’s the abandonment. What’s the point in trying when the answer will remain the same? Which just leads to staring, staring, and more staring. Waiting for a call or text that doesn’t come. Waiting on answers he’s sure he’ll never get. 

. . . 

Six weeks after the break-up, he’s staring at his phone in the middle of a cafe, still staring at the text thread with Tommy. He’s been on three dates in the past week, each more miserable than the last. Both of the guys he’d been out with had been decent enough, but at the end of the night… he felt nothing. And sure, he could argue that maybe it just wasn’t the right person, except for the part where he was pretty sure he’d already found the right person…but he’s not supposed to think that. 

And it’s in that cafe that he hears it. The song coming through the speakers that resonates with what he’s been trying to make the point of for weeks. It sends him down a rabbit hole scroll through the text thread until he finds the Spotify link. 

It was a playlist they’d started barely two weeks into their relationship. Initially, it was a way to connect on songs that they both liked that they wanted to share with the other. There was everything from eighties rock to seventies country, nineties pop/rock and current top forty. But the longer they’d been together, the more the songs on the playlist had turned into something one of them had heard that brought the other to mind, or said something they couldn’t necessarily piece into words. 

Evan scrolls through the playlist. The last one added had been a joke from Tommy—Purple People Eater. He’d sent it as a pick-me-up while Evan was still waiting on the boils on his face to finally go away, and while he’d been mildly offended at the joke, he’d taken it in stride. 

After googling the lyrics, he adds the song playing in the coffee house to the playlist before copying the link. Briefly, a wave of panic surges through him, wondering if Tommy even still has the link to it, let alone bothers to listen to it. He forces a breath out, swapping screens back to the text thread as he waits at the counter for his coffee order. However, as he picks up his cup and glances back down at the screen, he sees the bubble and those three grey dots. But just as always, they’re there, and then they’re gone. 

He huffs as he walks to the door, shoves it open and steps outside. It can’t be a coincidence, right? 

In a fit of confidence, he pastes the link to the playlist into the textbox and hits the blue arrow, sending it through. He slides his phone into his pocket before heading back to the jeep. 

E: Ain’t About You - Huntergirl

Three minutes later, as he’s plugging his phone into the carplay, the bubbles reappear. 

T: ?

Evan stares at the screen for a moment and then huffs, shaking his head. Did Tommy even bother to listen? Does he really need it spelled out for him? Has it really been that easy for him to move on? 

E: The first verse and chorus.  E: Well fuck, the second chorus too. 

The bubbles appear again, and then a blue message.

It’s the link back. When Evan clicks on it, the playlist refreshes with a new song at the bottom. 

T: If I Told You - Darius Rucker T: The first verse and chorus. 

Evan shakes his head, but he taps on the song anyway, and the beat starts coming through his speakers after a moment. He forces himself to sit and listen to the words—that’s the entire point to the reason this game started in the first place—but he’s barely into the chorus before he’s clicking out of the song and scrolling back into the library. He finds the next one—a song Maddie had sent him ages ago, and adds it to the list before shooting the link back in the message. 

E: Lovesick Fool - The Cab E: Second verse, second chorus

. . .

The chat stays quiet enough that he’s able to make the short drive back home, but as he’s riding the elevator back up to the loft, his phone buzzes in his hand again. He’s not sure if Tommy has actually been contemplating an answer or if he’s just been busy doing other things. Their calendars are still linked in the cloud, so he knows the other man is off, and with the rate at which he was responding, he doubts he’s flying at the moment. 

Once he’s in the loft, he links his phone to the bluetooth speaker before opening the playlist and clicking the newest addition. There’s no extra message along with the link, which generally means to listen to the entire song. 

He’s getting to the end of the song when messages start coming in. 

T: It’ll kill me when you don’t T: stop seeing me like I’m a lifetime T: and I’ll just be a goodbye T: when you get so tired of me 

Evan gulps, reading the words as they play through the speakers. His heart is knotting. Somehow the words they’re sending back and forth feel like they’re saying more than whatever they managed to say to each other in the final weeks of their relationship. There’s still so much he wants to say. 

He clicks back into Spotify, clicks on the artist, and picks the next song down, already having the answer. 

E: Trial Run - Jenny Baker E: I mean the whole damn song. But.  E: why does it feel like somebody died     were you moving on this whole time     while I’ve been stuck on the same side      why does it feel like somebody died      Were you moving on this whole time     I may not be the one, but you’re mine E: You’re still mine

He waits for a response, watching for bubbles for a few minutes, and then groans when one doesn’t come through. He’s so frustrated that he wants to scream, or throw his phone, or… something. And so he ends up digging out his mixing bowls and flipping through the current baking book until he finds a recipe he hasn’t made before. 

. . . 

Half an hour later, he’s in the midst of spooning peanut butter chocolate chip cookies onto a baking sheet when there’s a knock at his door. 

“Door’s open,” he calls out, too distracted by the need to stay focused on his task at hand. He’s still so frustrated that if he stops scooping, he’ll end up picking his phone up. 

Another knock sounds, and he huffs. 

“Just let yourself in,” he calls out. “Door’s open!” 

There’s no movement for another few seconds longer, and he’s about to wipe his hands off and go to the door, irritated, but the door finally opens, slowly at first, and then more, and when Evan finally looks up, his eyes fall on Tommy. 

He gulps at the sight of the other man standing across from him, the expression on his own face somber. His eyes are red-rimmed, and Evan opens his mouth to say something, but Tommy lifts his hand and he spots the other man’s phone in his hand. A few seconds later, the bluetooth speaker makes a noise that indicates it’s been connected to. Evan sets down his spoon and wipes his hands down the front of the apron he’s wearing as a song starts to play. It’s not one on the playlist, but he can’t help standing there and listening as Tommy skips to the point he wants to make with the song. 

“you lean in vulnerable  when you’d rather walk away

but when the rubber meets the road and life goes how it goes and we’re not new no more what am I in for? 

if the meteor hit, babe would you get in your car and drive to me to cry with me if I went insane, and didn’t know my name would you stay this side of me, reminding me if I gambled away my money, would you back away? if my jokes weren’t funny, would you laugh? how much do you love me? I gotta ask how much do you love me?”

By the time the chorus ends, Tommy’s hands are trembling at his sides and there are silent tears coming down his face as Evan rounds the counter. He takes Tommy’s phone out of his hand and pulls the apron off over his own head before grabbing the other man’s hands and squeezing them. 

“More than air, baby,” he rasps, lifting a hand to Tommy’s face and brushing away the tears with his thumb. “I’m not- there’s not an end in this for me. You’re not a stop on the way. You are the destination.” 

“Losing you-..” 

Evan lifts his other hand to Tommy’s face and presses his forehead against the other man’s. “You’re not going to. I’m right here with you.” 

Tommy gulps and nods, leaning into him. Evan tilts his head up and kisses his forehead, and then pulls him tightly into a hug, and for the first time in weeks, he feels like he can breathe again as he buries his own face into Tommy’s neck. 

“I meant what I sent,” Tommy murmurs when they finally separate. “I’m broken, Evan, and there’s no easy fix. People leave, and I’ve made peace with that, but I coudn’t-…losing you, I don’t think-..” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Evan counters. “Can you trust me that much? To love you enough to stay?” 

“I don’t know,” Tommy admits softly, even as he leans into Evan’s hands still on his face. “But I’m trying. I’m trying to communicate, and meet you in the middle. And maybe I can get there.” 

Evan nods, finally catching Tommy’s gaze again. 

“Then we talk,” he replies. “A lot, and about everything. Okay?” 

Tommy nods, and Evan leans into him, kissing him soft and quick before pulling him back in. The song starts to play through the speaker again, and Evan lets out a small, quiet laugh as it does, his hands rubbing up and down Tommy’s back as they stand in the middle of his kitchen. 

“That damn playlist,” he murmurs softly. “Think it just got oudone by this song.” 

Tommy smiles against his neck, kissing it softly, but not making any move to part. Evan turns into him after a moment, whispering into his ear. 

“How much do you love me? I gotta ask, how much do you love me?” 

Tommy lifts his head, just enough to brush his nose up against Evan’s. 

“The world over,” he whispers. He leans back, not much more than an inch, just enough room to completely catch eachother’s gaze before Evan leans back in and kisses him, and this time it’s everything they’ve missed in the intervening weeks. Tommy pulls him in tight as Evan’s hand finds its way to his chest, fisting the fabric of Tommy’s shirt, keeping him close until they’re breathless as the song keeps playing in the background. 

[frumdyke]

a breakdown of how i planned and managed this since ive had some people ask:

im writing this just after getting back from a new years eve party. i barely drunkn anything so in theory this should be pretty coherant. unfortunately i have an aversion to commas and apostrophes and also i say the word and way too much. this is gonna be a looong yap i have things to say. oh and the pictures and dates are from me searching through discord messages.

i started planning out the graph at the beginning of july (im going to tit in january.) i used flosscross because im a lil familiar with it but there are probably better programs to use for this because its meant for cross stitch not crochet. i ended up with 17 different colours plus the background. if you include the dark blue and magenta thats 20 separate yarns all together. heres the final graph i worked with (from my discord messages i think this was the 5th of july but i seem to remember spending at least a week on the graph)

before this the most complicated and only tapestry crochet i had done had only three colours so this was a big leap and i didnt know if it would actually work (note that i started crocheting in october 2023.) i knew i would have to keep everything very organised and i would spend most of the time untangling yarns. and i knew it was all gonna be floating yarn but i didnt know at the time that lots of floats and colour changes would make the project smaller. so the cardigan did come out quite tight across my shoulders.

next was gathering yarn. i pulled a few from my stash but most i had to buy. i went yarn shopping in person in two separate trips. i had the list of colours from flosscross which were all in cross stitch terms. as i got home with my first yarn haul i decided to print the colour list and taped some ends to it so i could compare

my printer didnt like this so the colours arent completely accurate. i went back to hobbycraft for more yarn and i had this paper in one hand and the pdf on my phone in the other and i was panicking because this didnt seem possible. i spent a couple hours lamenting that i wasnt in the usa where i have heard about the fabled joanns that has more than ten whole colours in most yarns. i wasnt confident enough to order online because i wanted to hold the yarns in my hand and directly compare the colours. i finally got together a selection of yarns the were good enough.

the plan was to go for all worsted acrylics because theres no way i could afford nice fibres for all these colours. as i went around the shop i realised i was just gonna have to get whatever colours would work and ignore the fibre make up because there is not enough choice of anything in british craft shops. i ended up with lots of different things but surprisingly the fancier fibres where all acrylic blends. so i got some nylon/acrylic some cotton/acrylic and some wool/acrylic. and some yarns were recommending 3.5mm or 3.25mm hooks but i decided to just ignore that and hope. by this point i had decided this was a complete experiment and if it didnt work out i could just learn cross stitch like a sane person would.

i laid out all my yarns and cried a bit because i did not anticipate how much planning i would have to do before i could start making shit. then i decided which yarn would correspond to which symbol on the chart and labelled them all. i was finally ready to start the actual crocheting part (10th july)

i printed the graph out so i could highlight as i went along and got going. here is how she looks now after its all done say hi

the tapestry part was extremely tedious and the yarns constantly got tangled. the rows were only 80 stitches long and some took me a whole hour each. i had to frog some parts but mostly i just left the mistakes in. my tension was really off because of the different yarns weights but i just said "im sure i can block it out" (i have never blocked anything before.) there are a huge amount of yarn tails on this thing so i didnt bother weaving threm in. i just tied them together so they wouldnt unravel and figured i could learn to sew a lining in to hide all the mess away. my number one takeaway from this is do not ever do a project that requires a double digit amount of yarns attached at once. it will suck and you will hate the process.

here are some progress pics. i wish i had taken more but i was quite fed up with the whole project by this point

i thought this was gonna turn out awful at had to fight the urge at multiple points. once i got to their faces i felt a bit better about it but then i got to phil's eyes and had a small breakdown. he is so pale and cool toned with cool toned hair wearing a cool toned outfit. his face and hair just all blends together and his eyes look a little demented here. dan has contrast between his face and hair so he turned out actually quite good.

anyway heres the finished tapestry part (12th august)

dans cheek bulges like that because the pink i used there is the heaviest weight. look at how cinched the middle is though. there were so many yarns being carried across. and the back is just fully spaghetti.

i immediately started planning the sleeves. i knew from the start i wanted them to say "terrible influence" but i had to decide whether it should read from the front or back. either way one side would end up reading "influence terrible". in the end i decided it should read correctly on the back and to also have the writing on the back of the arms so the front wouldnt look too out of wack.

i looked for some patterns online so i could get an idea of where the increases on the sleeves would be. i ended up with 77 rows for the sleeves and i thought "hmm thats seems kinda short but i shall trust the process" (spoiler alert it was too short.) then i went back into flosscross and drew out a whole sleeve and then stuck a big TERRIBLE on it. this part was annoying cus flosscross hides the copy + paste feature behind a paywall. so i had to draw out every letter individually. even the Rs which are literally repeated right next to each other. then i individually drew the magenta shadows in and tried to understand why i chose flosscross of all things to do this. i mirrored the sleeve and stuck an INFLUENCE and then realised id put it in the wrong place but luckily you can select and move bits around without paying.

i cant remember but i think this is when i did the front panels? i thought i did them after the sleeves but from the dates in discord it doesnt look like it. idk. i didnt really do much planning and i cant find any pictures so just imagine some plain blue crochet. i worked up the bottom section pretty fast and just estimated when to decrease by holding it up against my body. then i hated the shape i made so i frogged half of it and started the decreases way earlier and got a nice slope i was happy with.

then i actually made the sleeves. i had to frog the influence side because i realised i had drawn the shadows in wrong. i have some progress pics but i remember i was very excited to make the joke "ive made a terrible" and then never actually made the joke (first is 27th august and last is 10th september)

i sewed up the sleeves and shoulders and left it at that for a while. if you saw the wip photos i posted here for october 19th this is where i was up to. except this was still on 10th september

i took a break from this project started work on a jumper for my mum. that i had already been promising her for six months. that came out really small so i had to make some adjustments and ended up taking forever. i realised that my tension had probably gotten much tighter than when i made my previous jumpers. so the stitch counts i was working with were probably way off for both the jumper and the phardigan. i didnt do any gauge swatches and it shows.

at this point it was november. and i was still burnt out on the phardigan. in this break i bought a ticket to a third tit show. and also had some other life advancements like finally getting an insulin pump which i will never shut up about. i made a couple lil amigurumi creatures and then i was like okay im ready to get going. lets get this phardigan done.

the next step was to add a lining. so i thought maybe i should block it before then. i had no experience with blocking but i did my grandpa's steamer and some floor space. i did try pinning the project down to the towel but that didnt work. and i thought "hmmm perhaps it would best to wetblock this actually" but i didnt want to wait for it to dry. i was also very scared to kill the acrylic cus i wasnt sure how fried plastic would interact with the other fibres. so overall it was a very weak wimpy block. here she is anyway (7th december)

this was a rushed job but i had still spent too long sitting on the floor and my disabilities were playing up and i was struggling. so i half-arsed cutting up the pieces for the lining (i used a brushed cotton pillowcase in a close enough colour for this.) i didnt measure i just went for it. and then i realised my poor left handed brain cant cut a straight line on the best of days. but especially with heavy fabric scissors and an already aching body. yes i know rotary cutters exist. no i dont have one. anyway i forced my sister to cut out all the straight lines for me. i had one big piece that covered the back and went over the shoulders to cover the boobs too. the back was to hide all the yarn spaghetti but the boob lining was just so i could wear pins extra securely. i decided to leave the sleeves alone because the floats were short and the ends were neatly weaved in. then i laid out my big lining piece and folded over the raw edges and realised i hadnt actually factored in any seam allowance and it wouldnt cover the whole width. but i still went with it because i am lazy <3. i also cut out some pockets.

before i sewed the lining in i embroidered this little telly on the front. i thought the front was looking a little bare and it matches the tit set. haha tit set on my tits. look at her shes cute (8th december)

the lining is hand sewed. mostly because i have a comfier chair at my pc desk than the desk with my sewing machine and i couldnt be bothered with swiching them. also my sewing machine can only handle straight stitch at the moment. sad! anyways i did it all with a running stitch and doubled over some parts. i also discovered when i had done almost all the sewing that none of the right angles my sister cut out were actually right angles so i was adjusting the hem on the fly (8th december)

the hand sewing felt like it took ages but in reality was only a few days. at this point i was vibrating with excitement because the finish line was in sight. anyway look there are pockets (10th december)

look how curled those corners are. i am getting an awful grade in blocking

then i did the ribbing which is super easy. originally i had planned to do the ribbing in magenta but now after seeing more stuff about tit i think the blue fits much better with the colour theme. i went round the bottom edge in blo hdc and then did the front too with a little pause to figure out where to put the buttonholes (12th and then 23rd december)

notice theres a jump in the dates there. my brother very kindly gave me the flu and i was unable to get out of bed for a week. ive had the flu vaccine and it still hit me like a truck. pretty please dont infect your disabled friends im barely holding it together as it is. oh sidenote btw if any of you come up to me at tit without a mask on i might actually cry at you. please mask please mask please mask.

yah anyway i added more length to the sleeves. remember when i said the sleeves were too short? yeah i had to add 28 whole rows lol. i dont have any pictures because i did this while watching the doctor who xmas special (mid episode btw) but ill take one now because the phardigan is currently living under my pc desk. i did the extra rows in the round so theres a seam that suddenly disappears but i think it looks fine. and then the sleeve ribbing is sc instead if hdc because i wanted to cinch the cuff in a little bit but not too much. i also got to watch the new wallace and grommet film. i liked it but i had to explain to my sister who the penguin was??? she doesnt know any of the lore??

um so after the sleeves were done i just had to sew on the buttons and weave all the remaining ends in. and then it was fucking finished? just like that. at 22:14 on the 26th of december i sent this message

which was last thursday actually!? insane how time works. and then i posted this on friday and it somehow got 400 notes? it was weird when it was complete. it was like finishing a book. with that weird emptiness that comes with it.

i do have to thank everyone in the various phannie discord servers ive been sharing my progress in. ive had lots of people hype me up and cheer me on. one thousand kissies attack to all of you <3

im very glad this project actually worked. and that i dont have to learn cross stitch. because instead i just started learning to knit. which i am very excited about. last night i started learning colourwork and i am happy to report i havent had any insane ideas yet. but we will check in after ive done a big colourwork project and see how i feel then. maybe dnp will announce another tour and then i will have no choice but to make another phardigan.

um so thanks for reading i guess? im sure my rambling devolved towards the end there but im not reading it back 👍i dont think i hit image limit but i wouldnt be surprised if everything breaks when i press post. if anyone has questions please ask away i love yapping about this project. my ask box is open and waiting. its 6am now and lots of americans are wishing me a happy new year. 2024 was most definitely the year of the phannie and im hoping we can get a streak going. i love you, try new things, dont cry craft etc etc

THE PHARDIGAN IS FINISHED !!!!!!

now with a lining and pockets <3 so many hours spent on this thing im glad its done now

i will be wearing her at tit brighton and london so if you see me come say hi i promise im nicies

[bluecanvasshoe]

Frankly, Mr. Shankly

platonic!Marauders x gn!Gryffindor!reader

Picture from Lucy Orpwoodd on Pinterest!

Summary: You've been feeling inadequate in everything, really. It seems the people you thought were pushing you away are the only ones who can help calm these thoughts.

Content: reader struggles with feeling 'average' and 'not good enough', everyone is a bit of an ass but they all apologize, hurt/comfort, Wolfstar is so far just pining in this and Remus is a lil salty, mentions of Sirius' family life :(, use of y/n (IM SORRY), teenagers being weird and communicating poorly

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: WOW i didn,t expect to be writing THIS much over the break, but i'm glad i have! i hope you all enjoy this one!! and: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!! MY FIRST FIC OF 2025!

and just to be clear: what’s said in this fic about being average IS NOT the truth. but average is perfectly fine, and what’s been written are anecdotes from the reader’s mind (and mine, hehe). do not take whats said to heart, because you’re amazing no matter what!!!!

title from Frankly, Mr. Shankly by the Smiths!

--

You've always loved your friends, and you knew they loved you equally. If there's one thing about the Marauders, it's that each second spent is a second valued.

Year five was likely the most fun you’ve had in your life. So, why would year six be any different?

Well, this is how.

Your best friends, your partners in crime, your platonic soulmates who complete the Marauders, a group of five rowdy teens, seemed too good for you nowadays.

You were always painfully average in just about everything. It was well known, and for a long time, it really didn’t bother you. It was easy, low maintenance, and no one expected perfection. But since the start of the year, you soon came to find out that this average-ness made it incredibly easy for you to be outshined.

For so many years, people told you that marks or your number of friends were simply figurative objectives or ideas that didn’t carry any real significance. These assurances, however, are only said aloud when there’s nothing to downplay in the first place.

If you’re extraordinarily pretty, people would say you are blessed, and if you’re smart beyond imagination, people would call you gifted.

If you’re none of those things, if you’re not in the middle or either end of the line, you do not receive compliments because hardly anyone sees a point in complimenting the mode. This isn’t to say that some don’t put in a good attempt at digging deeper; but when you seemingly don’t care nor try, no one sees a point in acknowledging something neither person cares for.

These small encouragements were simply a means to an end, a way to appease the unsatisfied.

You didn’t blame anyone for your faults; that’d be silly. No other Gryffindor, no other friend, would intentionally try to put you down. But intentional or not, they still did.

So when James became Head Boy and had actual responsibilities, you felt a little upset. Not angry or sad, but you did miss spending every hour with him and the others. Not to mention the arrogance that he now held. It’d usually be funny, but now it felt like he was too good, too smart for you. You couldn’t live up to the student body’s role model that is James Potter.

After that, Remus became a Gryffindor prefect. You were happy for him, he truly, 100% deserved it. But then he had his own duties too, and you noticed how much more focused and dedicated he was to his role; a good thing, yes, but he tended to drown himself in responsibilities, distracting him from the Marauders. You now felt brushed off when you tried to make conversation with him, as if other things, things that would’ve usually fallen second, came before his friends now.

Sirius had always been a heartthrob, but over the summer, something must’ve changed to make him more appealing to the eyes of your fellow students. More often than not, he’d be away with someone new, or a new person would tag along in your adventures. This person would then begin to think that they were a Marauder, and it made things incredibly frustrating to have someone who often disregarded your presence assert themself into your life.

Finally, Peter was now spending more time with his girlfriend, a Ravenclaw girl you’d never met and he never specified before. You were happy for him, but now he was so distracted with her and trying to impress her via marks that he didn’t have as much time for the Marauders anymore.

But what about you?

Nothing was new in your life; you hadn’t been awarded the title of prefect, or head of anything, or heartthrob, or the love of someone’s life.

At first, you were sad. However, the start of a new school year was always a little bit melancholy, so you chalked it up to post-summer blues.

But when the leaves started falling and you found yourself walking amongst orange and red trees alone, you became angry. Angry at your friends, Marauders or not, angry at teachers who constantly downplayed your achievements, angry at your fellow students, and most of all, angry at yourself.

If you couldn’t live up to be as good as the rest of the Marauders, did you even deserve to be one?

Did you deserve to be at Hogwarts?

You tried studying more often and staying behind in class to ask questions and improve your grades, but nothing worked. Nothing improved. In your mind, you were a lost cause.

–

It was breaktime, and you were hoping you’d get to hangout with the other Marauders. You stood from your seat in potions, slinging your bag over your shoulder and exiting the dingey classroom.

Exiting the room, you ventured to a classroom close by in hopes that Remus would be there.

“Moons,” you called, approaching him.

He looked up from a piece of paper he had in his free hand, noticing you with a smile. “Oh, hello, N/N.”

“Would you want to come with me to find the others?” 

He frowned, gaze sympathetic. “I have a prefect meeting that’s supposed to run for the entire break. I’m sorry, but I really need to go this time.”

You hummed, feeling a twinge of sadness in your chest. “Okay, no problem. Would you like for me to walk you there?”

He shook his head, smiling. “No, I’ll be alright. I’m getting used to it, the cane.”

With a nod, you stepped aside to let him past you. “Alright. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you later then, yeah?”

“Of course.”

It was always meetings, or supervisions, or patrols. God, he was too busy these days.

With no Remus to accompany you, you found the divination class where both James and Peter would’ve been. 

James, noticing you from the corner of his eye, turned his head to face you. He had an arm around Peter, the two of them moving to stand beside the entrance of the classroom so as to not block those who were walking in the halls.

“Hey! How was potions? No Remus?” James asked, pushing his glasses up.

“Remus has a meeting-” “Right, that reminds me, um, guys, I have a study session this break.” Peter interjected, “sorry for the interruption, but I gotta go.”

“Oh, no problem, Wormy,” you replied, watching as James took his arm from Peter’s shoulder, shoving his back lightly as he walked off.

“You suck, James!” Peter called over his shoulder, receiving a hand-heart from his attacker in return.

You grinned, snickering a little. “Wanna come find Sirius with me?”

He smiled, his hands dropping to his sides as he made eye-contact with you. It was hard to look any of your friends in the eyes lately; you didn’t quite understand why. “Sure!”

You two had been making mindless, nonsensical chatter as you found your way to Sirius’ class. Lo and behold, he was there, leaning against the stone of the wall.

“Why’d you two take forever?” He groaned, standing up from the wall.

“Because your class is really far away,” James shrugged, him and Sirius doing their secret handshake. The long haired boy then turned to you, offering his hand for your handshake.

Once completed, you all began making random conversation, beginning to make your way down to the Black Lake.

“-And I mean, I’m Head Boy. Merlin, sometimes people are so stupid, it hurts!”

Sirius laughed, “yeah, I know. Sometimes people will think that, because I’ve had my fair share of partners and whatnot, they can just say whatever about me. It’s awful, especially when they believe that they’re my best friend for life. I cannot stand it.” He bemoaned dramatically.

“Exactly! People just believe that I’m everybody ever’s best friend because I’m Head Boy, and then-”

You didn’t try to interrupt the conversation; you wouldn’t have anything to say, anyways.

Head Boy, my relationships, prefects. It’s all everyone ever talks about, and it’s getting tiring. 

–

Everyone, for the first time in a week, was gathered in the common room. Remus sat with Sirius on a couch opposite to you, James laying across a sofa that faced the fire, and Peter sitting beside where James’ feet landed.

Remus, seeming to remember something, raised his head to look at you. You who had been quiet, avoidant, and easy to anger in recent weeks.

“Right, Y/N, do you still have my copy of the Odyssey Homer I gave to you?”

You looked at him, jaw closed tightly. “Uh, yeah. I can return it in a bit.”

“Could you maybe get it now?” He insisted, his tone kind, but almost cautious. You felt bad for the fact that he felt he needed to be careful, guilt weighing more than it already did.

“...Yeah, alright.” You muttered half-heartedly, setting aside your book and walking past the couches. The warm, cozy atmosphere of the Gryffindor common room would usually be comforting, but it only made you feel more upset. Upset for the time lost between the five of you, and longing for the connection you all had in previous years.

You walked up the steps to your dorm, one of your roommates sitting on their bed. They looked up from a book about divination, giving a wave as you trudged over to your bedside table.

“You’ve been grinding your teeth in your sleep again,” They commented, dogearing a page of the textbook and closing it. “Does your jaw not hurt?”

You ignored their question, head turning to look at them. “Oh. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Last time I did, Y/N, you were all pissy.”

“Still,” Your head turned back to the drawers as you crouched down, opening a drawer and searching through it. “I would’ve made up for it.”

“Not the point, Y/N. You’re acting weird.” They crossed their arms, leaning back against their headboard.

You paused, heart beating a little faster. So it’s noticeable? Merlin, of course it’s noticeable. But that means that your other friends have noticed it too. “No, I’m not.”

“You are. What’s eating you?”

Sighing, you closed the drawer and opened another one. “It’s just stress from school.”

They hummed, “You just said it was nothing.”

“It is, but now I’m telling you it’s school stress.”

“Exactly. You switched up your excuse because you’re refusing to say what’s been going on with you; it’s something else.”

You sent them an unamused look, trying to appear nonchalant. “Merlin, nothing’s going on. Will you drop it?”

They sighed, picking their textbook back up. “Christ, alright.”

You found the book you’d borrowed with a relieved sigh, closing the drawers of the nightstand and leaving your dorm with an unusual hastiness. Returning to the common room, you wordlessly gave Remus the Odyssey Homer and sat down again.

James craned his head towards you, stopping mid-sentence and interrupting his nonsensical conversation with Sirius. “You alright there?”

Looking up, you raised an eyebrow. “Yes. Why?”

He shrugged, “You haven’t been talking as much. Did we do something? If we did, you’re allowed to punch us all really hard if you tell us what.”

You huffed. They hadn’t done anything, not really. “You guys didn’t do anything.”

Sirius hummed, tilting his head. “You are acting kinda weird, though. We obviously did if you’re being this avoidant, mate. You can talk about it, we’re not gonna be angry.”

“You’ll feel better if you do,” Peter piped up, his words drawn out.

You hesitated. “It’s so stupid.” You muttered, looking at your lap.

“What’d you say?” James asked, leaning forward.

“‘It’s stupid’,” Replied Remus, using air quotes. James gaped, standing up to march over to your couch and sit down beside you. 

“If it’s making you feel so upset, then it’s obviously not stupid!” He huffed, a hand on your shoulder. You grimaced, shoulders hunched.

“It’s not a big deal, though. I really shouldn’t be as upset as I am.”

“Nonsense, N/N! Don’t say that,” he chided. Peter leaned forward, each of your friends donning worried expressions.

Sirius scoffed, “you tell me I’m perfectly reasonable whenever i’m upset about my family, so stop being a hypocrite and tell us!”

“It’s not that easy, Pads.” You replied, frowning. 

“I know it’s not, but we all trust each other, yeah? You know we wouldn’t judge you like pricks,” He reasoned, dragging Remus with him to squeeze into the vacant space beside you on the couch. Peter got up, opting to sit at the bottom of the sofa by you.

After a few seconds of hesitation, you felt your bottom lip quivering. James frowned, leaning forward to get a look at you; curse him and his observant qualities. “Awe, no, don’t cry,” he held one of your hands, fiddling with you fingers in an ever to calm you. “Actually, no, crying is good. But please, what’s wrong?”

The others, in a collective effort you get you talking, piped in small encouragements.

You wiped your eyes, sniffling. “I feel… I dunno, I feel stupid. Like- like you guys are too… good for me.” 

“What? No!” James gasped.

Sirius frowned, an arm around your shoulders. “Absolutely not. You’re not stupid, and we are not ‘too good’!” He exclaimed, acting as though the mere thought was outlandish and preposterous in nature.

“Why would you think that?” Asked Remus, his voice gentle and coaxing.

You shrugged, swallowing your tears. “You’re… You’re all accomplishing things. And I’m really happy for you all, but I-” your voice cracked, the painful constricting of your throat cutting off your words. You’re not sure if your tears are out of anger or sadness. “I’m not doing anything. I’m not achieving anything impressive. I’m surrounded by amazing people, but I can’t even live up to a quarter of the person they are, and I’m so tired of it.”

You purse your lips, wiping at your eyes again. “And I- I…” With a deep breath, you felt the frustration in your chest bubble up again, the irresistible urge to snap consuming your thoughts and controlling your mouth. “I can’t be the person everyone else is; I’m so average it hurts, and every day I’m reminded of the fact that I’m not and won’t ever be as good as everyone else because now I’m being left alone with my thoughts more often. And- and it’s because all of you have some new title, or are too busy studying and I miss being friends with all of you and I feel so selfish, but I’m so pissed.”

When you were done, you took in what was likely the biggest breath of your life, lungs expanding wider than they ever had. Not even running could render you as out of breath as you currently are.

The rest of the Marauders fell silent, sharing expressive glances and mulling over the right things to say.

“We’re still friends. Marks, names, none of that... actually matters to us. They’re just things.” Peter replied, his voice soft.

You huffed, blinking back tears. “Everyone says that because no one understands that I try so hard to achieve that ‘thing’. It’s so much more to me than that; I just- I just want to be good enough.” You choked out, the anger fading from your voice and being replaced with a pathetic, sad crackle.

James’s hand tightened on your shoulder. “Hey, no, you are good enough. We don't care about any of that,” his tone grew to become more serious than it previously was, his words carrying double the weight. “We became friends with you because we all sat in the same train compartment and got along when we were eleven. Do you think we cared when we were kids?”

You took a steadying breath, shaking your head ‘no’.

“Do you think we care now?” He continued, thumb rubbing shapes into the bone of your shoulder. 

“I don’t- I don’t think so.”

He nodded, “Good, ‘cause we don’t; you’re an enjoyable person, we value that the most!” 

“Just because Prongs and Moony’ve got posh new titles doesn’t mean they’re better,” Sirius commented up from your other side, nudging you. “If they really believed in that stuff, do you think they’d be friends with us? I mean, we have a detention slip scrapbook, mate. Not really goody-two-shoes behaviour.”

You huffed a laugh at the mention of your shared collection of write-ups, wiping at your eyes.

“That’s not everything though, is it?” James and Remus chorused, giving each other a quick high five soon after.

You took a second, but you eventually shook your head ‘no’ once more. “Sirius, the people you’ve been hanging out with, they… I don’t like it when someone new is with us.” You said cautiously, looking at him in the corner of your eye. He blinked a few times, nodding. “They ignore me, Remus and Peter most of the time and it- it just feels a bit… degrading?”

Sirius’ mouth opened, giving a slow, understanding nod. “Ooh. Yeah… I can see why,” he sympathised with you, looking at Remus briefly. “Moony and I have talked a bit about it. I swear, I’m not doing it ‘cause I think we need someone new, but I don’t want to abandon you lot to go be with someone so seems cool; not as cool us, of course. I’ve tried not to involve them in our hangouts a ton, but- I dunno, I suppose they get in their head about it and act like they’re a part of our group. I’m sorry, not just to you, but to everyone. I’ve been an ass.”

You smiled, looking at him. “Thanks, Pads. It’s okay.”

He shook you a little, frowning. “Awe, don’t say that, hold me accountable. James said you could punch us, you could punch me!” 

With a grin, you shook your head. “I’m not gonna punch you. That was shitty, though.”

“It was shitty, so if you won’t, I’ll punch him!” James offered, his usual attitude reappearing as he enthusiastically raised his hand. 

“Let’s not punch each other,” Remus said at the same time as Peter interjected, lifting his head to say, “Can we not?”

“They’re constantly inhibiting our fun,” James whined, stretching his arm over you to hold hands with Sirius, who had a dramatic, forlorn expression on his face. 

“We’re hated by everyone.” Sirius sighed, shaking his head.

Remus raised an eyebrow, frowning. The look he gave Sirius, the one the other would gaze at him with in much the same way, was one of longing and affection. It was torturous, really; seeing how in-love but convinced about its assumed one-sidedness they were. “Do you not have a fan club or something?”

“Let me be sad, Remus.”

James laughed, separating his hand from Sirius’ and looking at you again. “Seriously, though. We’ll never be ‘too good’ for you or leave you behind for something stupid like a title, mate. You’re our best friend, you always have been, and nothing will change that,” he squeezed your shoulders, glasses reflecting the warm light of the fire.

Remus nodded, “none of us were abandoning you. I suppose we all got distracted in our own ordeals, but we’d never knowingly distance ourselves from you. You’re one of us; your status doesn’t change that.”

You gave both Remus and James a watery smile, old tears drying in your eyes. “I’m sorry for being avoidant. I should’ve- I should’ve said what was happening, it’s not fair to you, I’m- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize!” James exclaimed, removing his arms from you to outstretch at his sides, enveloping you in a hug immediately after.

Remus reached past Sirius, putting a hand on the middle of your upper back. “You’re a great friend, and I truly, honestly mean that. And you’re smart, too; don’t forget that. If I didn’t have you to talk with, I’d go insane. I hardly think they can even read.”

Sirius and James squawked dramatic refusals in response to his claim, causing Remus to grin smugly.

Sirius cleared his throat, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Anyways, if we’re all saying things we like about you, I still remember when you incendio’d that letter my mother sent in third year. I thought you were a badass. I still do; you’re cooler than that git.” He gestured to Remus, causing the scarred boy to raise his hands in faux shock, mouth slightly agape.

“I agree with what they said,” Peter interjected from the floor. “You’re a good friend. We all met on the train for a reason, I think.”

“Exactly, Wormy.” Sirius nudged Peter with his foot, the boy shoving it away in return.

After all was said and everyone was forgiven, you eventually all moved to form a group hug.

“Let’s pull a prank after this. ”James suggested, his voice muffled. “Let’s douse the hallways in grease from the kitchens again.”

Maybe the couch was tiny and didn’t fit all of you and maybe you couldn’t breathe anymore, but at least self-deprecation wasn't the cause for your breathlessness. The anxious, upset racing of your heart was replaced by happiness. The nasty thoughts clouding your mind and drowning out any sounds around you were replaced by giggles or dumb jokes from your closest friends.

For the first time in a few months, you felt that being average, normal, was okay.

[dreamsthatdream]

I would love to give you twins. I’d love to find out I was carrying two of your precious children. I know I’d be more tired and less comfortable than with previous pregnancies, but with you I know you would be there to look after me, like the protector you are.

It would start out like any other pregnancy. Maybe we had been hoping for it for a few months. You had been dumping your cum in me every day, but maybe it was all the breastfeeding that caused the delay, either way we are ecstatic when we find out we’re expecting again. I call you into the bathroom to show you the test and as soon as you see it you grab me and throw me back into bed, burying your cock deep, repeating over and over again that I’m going to make your a daddy again as you explode another of your loads inside me.

I make the appointment and when we finally go for our first scan to see our new baby for the first time, the ultrasound operator lets us know it’s twins. I see in your eyes how happy you are at the news. This really makes the wait worth it. That night you fuck me so gently, clutching my belly that we now know is going to swell unlike any previous pregnancy.

You are extra affectionate through this pregnancy, kissing my belly, whispering to our twins and at times I feel like you are glued to my back, your arms wrapped around holding my bump. I love it. This was all I ever wanted as a woman. I tell you every night how grateful I am to have found a man that understands my purpose and I want to give you so many more babies. Maybe next time you can force triplets into me.

I'd love to have bred you with twins so much! Having already had many of our kids, it'd just be the natural progression. So fertile that even two large babies growing in your womb won't be a problem.

Your belly will swell much more and much quicker than before. I'll gently cradle it in my arms each chance I get, which will often lead to me gently putting yet another load into you. You'll still be breastfeeding our last baby and you'll already be with two more, your tits swelling up with even more milk in preparation, hips widening a bit more to support them. I'd love to watch what my seed is doing to you.

Do you think your old maternity clothes are going to fit, or are you going to have to get new ones? Is there a point?

Knowing you're so fertile, all mine to breed, would make me want to put the next batch in you as quickly as possible after the twins are born. Who knows, soon enough you could be walking around with them both on your breast while triplets are growing in your motherly womb...

[sensualdominance]

Did I ever tell you about the time I discovered I was into femdom? Like, actually into it, more than just those little fantasies I had in my head sometimes?

I'm at a friend's place, and we're playing a drinking game, just me and him. We've known each other for maybe around 5 years at this point, but this is the first time we're both single at the same time.

One question and task after another, and then, he's asking about my kinks. I definitely do not get nervous and try to hide it by making him say what he thinks I'm into.

He comes closer to me. We've made out before, but always as a dare from the drinking game. This time, there's no dare.

He kisses me, and we start making out. It gets heated fast, and our hands trail feverishly across each other's bodies. I feel like all my barriers are down.

I won't lie, he doesn't get it right at first try. I can't fault him for that, all he knew about my preferences at the time was that I liked girls, too. But honestly, though I do really like girls, I also have a stronger preference.

A preference for submissive men, men who'll kneel at my feet and look at me like I'm the world to them, men who'll love it as I tease them, men who'll moan as I fuck them.

When he finally says those words, "Or are you the one who wants to fuck me?" I remember a sensation of almost like something being poured over my head. Yes, yes, that is exactly what I want, and I slide my hand to his throat to grip at it, lifting my head from kissing it to nod.

He chuckles and says "Then fuck me, miss" (I teach him to call me mommy later, I'm currently otherwise occupied) and I slide my fingers to his lips, into his mouth, down his throat, to discover he has no gag reflex...

Fast forward 2 years, and we are now happily in an open switchy relationship, which, by the way, has been open the whole time we've been together! I know some might find that odd, but we love and trust each other enough in a way it works for us.

[aureatescars]

Sasha doesn't even notice he's making a face until Leon calls him out on it. Then, he sighs and makes an effort to smooth out the wrinkle between his brows. "It's been an eventful day," he says, trying and failing not to sound too defensive. "I forgot to take the last one when I was supposed to." Which at this point was several hours ago. He shifts in his seat, sinking a little lower. He's not looking at Leon, but rather keeping his eyes on the road.

He's been bad about taking the pain medication when needed during his time at the hospital, more often than not preferring pain over the overall more stark numbness that came with the moment the painkillers take effect, and they've argued about this back at the hospital more than once. Admittedly, they've argued about quite a lot of things during their time together. Leon does have a way of getting under his skin, Sasha was made aware of that from the moment they met.

However, Sasha is not trying to pick a fight here and neither is Leon, that much Sasha can discern from the genuine concern that underlies his offer. So, Sasha forgoes any deflection that sits on the tip of his tongue and then nods. The thought of going maybe another few hours without something to at least alleviate the discomfort not something he wants to entertain after everything he's been through today; that they have been through. Leon shouldn't have to deal with him being irritated by something easily avoidable.

An odd sense of warmth overcomes him at the thought that Leon cares enough to ask where previously it's only ever been a source of annoyance for Sasha. It's closely followed by the awareness that Leon knows him well enough to notice things like this now, however, Sasha isn't entirely sure what to make of that just yet. But with Leon constantly reminding him that it's alright to rely on him — that it's mandatory even for all of this to work in the first place — Sasha's finally inclined to believe him.

So, he folds and casts his senseless pride aside. "But yeah... that's probably a good idea."

It's then that he turns to look at Leon, studying his profile for a moment. He still isn't entirely certain how he feels about everything that has happened today, or how he'll ever repay Leon for all he has done and the fact that he is willing to put up with everything Sasha's thrown at him, consciously or not.

Sasha ultimately looks back out the window, thinking back to the first time they met. He inspects the way Leon's entire demeanor made his blood boil back then and how everything he found aggravating has become something of an endearing quality instead. His snark, his attitude and smile, his way of pushing Sasha where he really doesn't want to go. He turns it all over in his head, inspects it from every angle. He doesn't yet dare to hold all he is feeling about it up to the light. But there is no denying Leon's changed him in the short time they've known eachother and Sasha can't help but compare him to the only other person that ever truly challenged him in this way...

He ends up smiling at the memory of her and that is maybe the biggest surprise of all. For the first time in forever his heart doesn't ache with that same loneliness he felt each time a stray thought led him back to the memory of her.

She would have liked you. He thinks quietly to himself.

The smile on his face doesn't fade until they reach their destination. When Leon goes to fetch his wheelchair Sasha's gaze is drawn to the horizon where dark clouds are gathering. It's still too warm for snow to start falling anytime soon, even higher up as they are in this region, which likely means that they're in for some heavy rain later in the evening. He'd rather be back at the cabin by the time it starts.

Leon brings him the chair and a bottle of water alongside the promised painkillers. Sasha takes them and with that they're off to the store. Sasha glances up at Leon when he sees him shiver from the corner of his eye. "We should get you some warmer clothes," he says as he takes in the way Leon is ducking into his sweater as the wind picks up around them, pulling the too long sleeves over his hands. It almost strikes him as cute how he is drowning in Sasha's sweater. "We're not due for it just yet, but winter hits hard and sudden around here."

"As long as you make up your mind about it before we leave the grocery store." Sasha answers at Leon's request to give him some time to think on what he wants Sasha to make for him. Sasha is also already going through a list of possible dishes for the next few days in his mind, making a mental note to stock up on quite a few things in bulk so that they don't have to make too many trips back into town just because he suddenly decided he wants to spend his time at the cabin rekindling his long abandoned interest in cooking.

Despite his overall lighter mood and the fact that Leon, too, seems to start enjoying their little shopping trip more and more now that the things with Mikael have been smoothed out, Sasha can't help the fact that he is already feeling the strain of exertion from wheeling himself around the store, going back and forth for one thing or another. He is trying to keep it under wraps most of the time, but his fingers clench a little tighter around the handles of his wheels and he tries to shift where he is seated in the wheelchair to alleviate some pressure and ease some of the pain in his back.

He should have brought his painkillers with him, but he didn't think to grab them earlier. So, he is left with a bit of a pinched expression by the time they make their way outside again. Admittedly, it eases when Leon makes a ligthearted comment about how quickly things spread through the grapevine around these parts. "Well, you just casually made a deal to buy a house in the middle of the only hardware store in town just so you can get your way of renovating it." Sasha says, still baffled by the prospect and therefore unable to keep the fondness from his tone entirely. "The shopkeeper probably figures it's best to stay on your good side, given that you're ready to spend a lot of money on a whim."

Sasha looks up at Leon once they're done loading the car with all of their things and the only thing lef to do is getting Sasha out of the wheelchair and into the passenger's seat. For a rather embarrassingly long moment he can't help but take in the expression on Leon's face, the smile playing around his lips and the relaxed posture now make him look far less troubled than he did after their mishap at the lake earlier. Sasha decides he likes this far more than the dark and faraway look that seemed to dull the color of Leon's eyes. The shadows beneath them are still there and from what he's gathered of Leon's past so far he's almost certain they'll never fade entirely, but the hard lines of his face have softened considerably. And frankly, this thought fills him with a confusing amount of relief.

But once it becomes apparent to both of them that Sasha is quite blatantly staring at Leon Sasha shakes his head and makes to pull himself up and out of the wheelchair to stand. His face briefly scrunches up as a flicker of pain turns to a rather sudden throb of it, but when Leon steps in to steady him Sasha finds himself breathe easier the moment Leon's hand alights on his arm.

"Thank you." Sasha says with a brush of his own hand against Leon's, and hopes that it conveys at least a fraction of what everything that just happened in the store means to him. He knows Leon will want to brush his gratitude off, but it wouldn't feel right if he didn't at least say something.

He leaves it at that however and finally they get him back into the car. It's a blessing that despite the persistent pain he is able to at least keep himself standing on his own, which makes the process that much easier.

"It's down this road and to the right." Sasha says just in case Leon hasn't quite memorized the overall layout of the town just yet.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Seems like you're getting a lot of this one but in case you need more to finish up here you go haha (or feel free to use for another story if this one's finished by the time you get to this ask ☺️)

🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓🐓

Thank you! I would be very happy to finish today as work starts back tomorrow. Let's go!

1k for 🐓:

---

“It means I want you to form your own opinions of your grandparents. Not just be mad at them because I might be,” Eddie says.

“But I still want to know,” Chris presses. “If it’s about me, I deserve to know.”

Eddie sighs. Because he’s not wrong. But how can Eddie tell the story without someone seeming like a jerk? 

“That’s fair,” Eddie says. “She… Well, listen. They both have always wanted you and I to stay in El Paso. Especially you.”

“Why especially me?” Chris asks. 

“They just always… They always thought they could raise you better than I could. Even before we lost your mom.”

“Oh,” Chris whispers.

“It caused a few fights between us, over the years,” Eddie says.

“So she doesn’t want me to live with you? Ever?” Chris asks.

“I think she’d be happier if you stayed with her, yeah,” Eddie admits.

“Even though that made you sad? And I wanted to go home?” Chris asks. 

Eddie nods. “Yeah. She thinks she’s right. She always thinks she’s right. But she’s wrong about this.”

Chris nods. “I don’t want her to yell again. Which… I know I yelled. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it, Chris,” Eddie says. “That’s not how I like to communicate, but I know I did it, too. And about your grandparents, you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. Okay?”

“Okay,” Chris nods. “But I want to be with you.”

And as long as Chris is saying that, Eddie will defend his wishes like a feral dog. 

“You will be,” Eddie says. “I promise.”

So he does all he can. He talks to his parents. Fights with them. 

“I don’t understand why he has to move into the apartment,” Helena says. “And so soon! You’d really do that to him? Take him out of a family home?”

Eddie is mind-boggled by this argument. “Plenty of children are raised in an apartment just fine! And it’s just until I find the right house, Mom.”

“Then why can’t he stay with us until then?” She presses.

“Because he wants to live with me, and I want him to live with me!” Eddie fires back. But he shouldn’t have bothered. That argument never meant anything to them anyway. 

“Well, Eddie, that’s just not enough,” Helena says, Ramon nodding shallowly beside her. “We need to think about what’s best for our grandson.”

Their grandson. Not his son. 

“Is that a threat?” Eddie asks. “Because I shouldn’t have to ask for my son back. There’s no custody arrangement here. This was an informal agreement.”

His parents look at each other. Exchange a glance that appears mild, but Eddie feels is completely insidious. 

“We are going to make the best decision for Christopher,” she says. “Even if that’s not what you, personally, would like.”

“With what authority?” Eddie demands. 

But then he realizes, with a pang of horror, what they mean. 

➡️

In the end, it takes Sophia’s husband, Jordan, getting involved. He’s a very new hire at a family law practice. His parents had been thrilled when she started seeing him. A young man in law school. They probably didn’t suspect that one Christmas holiday, a few years later, Sophia would sit them all down so he could explain that they had to stop fighting Eddie on getting his son back. 

“If this escalates,” Jordan warns. “It will be very costly, and very time consuming, and very traumatizing to Christopher. Which I know none of you want.”

Obviously not. 

It’s insane that he they’re even at this points. That Eddie’s rights and wishes, and Christopher’s wishes, mean so little, they’re talking their way around a custody dispute.

“We have a responsibility to advocate for what we think is best for Christopher,” Helena says. 

“You won’t win,” Jordan says. “You’ll lose.”

“You can’t know that,” Ramon grumbles.

Eddie is biting the inside of his cheek so hard it’s bleeding.

“Yes, I can,” Jordan says. “Do you want me to break it down for you?”

“I do,” Eddie grits, mouth aching. “I want to hear it.”

Helena scoffs.

“You’ll both pay a fortune in legal fees. Christopher will be assigned a social worker or psychologist to assess his fitness to decide for himself. I imagine this process will feel invasive and frustrating for him. If he’s determined fit, Eddie will almost certainly be awarded custody. Most of the judges arond here are sensitive about a father’s rights. Splitting up a child and a parent with no previous history of abuse or neglect is not going to happen.” 

Eddie feels relief. He didn’t think they could legally take Chris from him, but he didn’t really know. Jordan’s confidence here is extremely reassuring. 

“Thank you,” he nods at his brother-in-law.

Jordan offers him a sympathetic smile.

“Living in a constant state of upheaval and drama, women coming in and out of the house, that’s not some form of abuse?” Helena asks.

Eddie recoils like he’s been slapped.

“Hey,” Ramon says, shaking his head. Like this is too far, even for him. 

“No, I’m serious,” Helena raises her hands. “What sort of home is that for a child?”

“He was always happy,” Eddie snaps. “Always! He had trouble after his mother died. You’d think that’d be allowed. He had anxiety after I got hurt. Sorry I let myself get shot. He was mad at me for a horrible mistake I made, and I own that. But that does not mean I didn’t give him a good home, with…”

With everything he needed. With a great school. With… With Buck there, as another parent. And now Chris has felt like he’s lost three. 

“It’s not a mistake I’m going to make again,” Eddie finishes. “I actually learn from hurting my child. I don’t know if you can say the same.”

“And what does that mean?” Helena demands. 

“Helena…” Ramon sighs.

“Everyone, stop,” Sophia commands. 

A silence falls over the table. Sophia takes a preparatory breath. Jordan squeezes her shoulder.

[laniidae-passerine]

don’t get how you can watch iwtv and be a sincere diehard lestat hater. like the world’s biggest lestat hater is louis and that man can’t even commit to it for more than five minutes before literally hallucinating lestat wearing a wedding ring and talking pretty to him. this show is about louis and every road leads back to lestat for that man

[whitehartlane]

HARRY KANE (10) & SON HEUNGMIN (7) OF TOTTENHAM HOTSPUR The greatest partnership to ever exist in the world of football. “When you turn, I will be always there.”

BBC Sport / Kane and Son break the all-time record for Premier League goal combinations / The Guardian / Kane-Son trademark celebration during Liverpool 1-1 Tottenham, 07th May 2022 / Kane-Son trademark celebration during Manchester United 1-6 Tottenham, 04th October 2020 / Kane-Son trademark celebration during Aston Villa 0-4 Tottenham, 09th April 2022 / Kane-Son trademark celebration during Tottenham 2-0 West Ham United / Kane on Twitter after assisting Son on 4 goals against Southampton / Tottenham 1-0 Burnley, 26th Oct 2020 / Nice to Mich You, Son Heungmin / Premier League / Kane and Son hug during Manchester City 2-3 Tottenham, 19th Feb 2022 / Kane and Son hug during Tottenham 1-0 Crystal Palace, 20th Sept 2015 / Kane consoles Son during the Carabao Cup final against Manchester City / Kane and Son celebrate during Tottenham 5-2 Southampton, 26th Dec 2017 / Commentator on the Kane and Son partnership / Tottenham 2-0 Arsenal, 06th Dec 2020 / Caption from ‘Heungmin Son and Harry Kane guess their Premier League goal combinations’ / Stray Kids, I am YOU / Kane and Son celebrate during a 6-1 game against Leicester City, 18th May 2017 / Kane and Son celebrate during a 4-0 game against Everton, 13th Jan 2018 / Kane on Twitter / Frank O’Hara, ‘Morning’ / Kane wins the Golden Boot 20/21 / Son wins the Golden Boot 21/22 / Kane assists Son against Southampton / Caption from ‘Heungmin Son and Harry Kane guess their Premier League goal combinations’ / Mitski, Francis Forever / YouTube: Record breakers! Kane & Son react to becoming Premier League’s most deadly duo! / FootballJOE on Twitter, referencing Son’s trademark goal celebration, the ‘camera,’ through which he is looking at Kane / Gang of Youths, ‘Achilles Come Down’ / Kane and Son celebrate their goal against Arsenal / Kane on his relationship and link-ups with Son / Son and Kane on Instagram / Kane and Son after Kane assisted Son on four goals against Southampton / Tottenham 3-2 Ajax, 08th May 2019 / cr. Shaun Botterill, Getty Images / Commentator on the Kane and Son partnership / Tottenham 3-2 Manchester City, 19th Feb 2022 / Caption from ‘Heungmin Son and Harry Kane guess their Premier League goal combinations’

[ofcrowsanddragons]

And I appreciate your post! There's a lot to chew on when it comes to who Lucanis is and what he wants. Even Lucanis himself isn't very clear on what that means, I suspect!

And "he's rebelling against the specific mentality caterina tried to instill" is a great jumping off point for thinking about Lucanis's arc, and I love it. Lucanis figuring out how to LIVE is central to who he is at the beginning of Veilguard, and his little rebellions up to this point inform what that means to him.

Lucanis has so many character traits established by the "Coffee with the Crows" quest:

He's doing the "grocery shopping for the team", regardless of whether anyone thinks someone of his status should be doing it. (I doubt this was a mentality Catarina deliberately instilled in him.)

He pays close attention to what his companions want or need, regardless of whether they like each other.

He never thought to buy a Wyvern tooth dagger for himself, making this a rebellion he never considered for himself.

His family relationships are fraught, with him and Illario undermining each other constantly. Illario deliberately tries to ingratiate himself with authority figures and/or Lucanis's friends by putting Lucanis down. Meanwhile, Lucanis undermines Illario in a more patronizing, and even patriarchal way: Illario isn't good enough, so Lucanis needs to take care of him. (The fact that Illario has to position himself as less competent than he is because of the deception has to rankle him.)

Lucanis believes that "to live fully is to live truly" and muses that most of his path up to this point has been "determined for him" (the nod to determination is an interesting play on words). It opens this as the core question of his arc.

If you're a Crow, Lucanis won't stand for you being self-deprecating, and expresses how much he believes in you

Edit: also takes that extra moment to enjoy the coffee before heading back to the Lighthouse: another rebellion?

It's really fun to consider what elements of Lucanis's personality are a rebellion against Catarina under the guise of being a good assassin. After all, if doing x, y, and z make him more effective, she can't stop him from doing it.

If working with an abolitionist vigilante here or there makes it easier to complete a job, then why wouldn't he free (eyewitness) slaves? If his hobbies make for a more effective arsenal, why wouldn't he knit? If feeding the team makes him more indispensible, then the Veilguard can't cut the Crows out of a world-changing event. More importantly, he gets to exercise the elements of his personality that are softer, without being called "soft." No one would ever accuse the Demon of Vyrantium of THAT!

If he can hone himself into the sharpest blade in the world, then he can also define for himself what that means. If he's more effective than anyone else, then no one can question his methods.

I think that makes the question of what enjoyment he can get from his tainted-by-association profession even more interesting. Because literally everything he does—including his little rebellions—are done in the service of being a better assassin. Arguably, he has appeared to become exactly what Catarina wanted, while maintaining the core of who he is... all out of spite.

Where does that leave him, if he has the power and determination to determine his own fate?

(Image description under cut)

Screenshot of my tags under user covertleathers's post:

#fun thoughts #little rebellions #i think some of the pushback has been on the idea of simplifying lucanis into someone who #specifically doesn't want to be an assasin because assassination is morally wrong #as opposed to someone who's being forced to figure himself out because several issues have come to a head #possession but also the inheritance question rearing its ugly head #also more opportunities for relationships (platonic and otherwise) than he's ever had #lucanis dellamorte #crow thoughts #veilguard meta

this is just me yapping about lucanis tbh

one of the big things DAtV tells you about Lucanis is that he has been robbed of basically any agency in his own life. I am very fond of his exchange with a trans Rook, where he expresses with the slightest hint of jealousy that he admires Rook for being themselves unashamedly.

I've seen some back and forth re: Lucanis enjoying being an assassin, and I think the rub for me is that any enjoyment he finds in it is tainted, in a way, because it isn't a life he chose. He rebels against it in the ways that he can (freeing eyewitness slaves in WMJ, for example), and expresses no interest in ever having a higher position than the one he does. Most of his "enjoyment" is derived from going after the Venatori, objectively bad people. He makes it his whole thing. He exercises the very little control he has by bending the rules and shaping his situation into something he can swallow more easily. He takes pride in the more vigilante aspects of the Crows.

(sidenote: being a weapons enthusiast or any similar hobby is not inherently tied to being an assassin.)

But ultimately he's incapable of freeing himself from that life if he wants to, and as someone else said, Caterina very much puts him on the spot with that public promotion and he *can't* say no. They can't afford to look weak in front of all those eyes.

So it's not that i want to "simplify" him into a househusband. I just want him to be allowed to get to know himself and find who he wants to be. I want him to have choices.