#this art is very mediocre because i refused to spend more than an hour on this dumb ass meme

[emrysmoss]

[elisabeth515]

(Some) Greek Gods as Historical Figures

So some days ago I secretly logged back into Mythology and Cultures amino and I stumbled across post of casting historical figures as the gods from Greek mythology. Of course, I hated it, so I made my version of this.

Note: Of course, this is going to have quite a lot of Napoleonic figures, since I am more familiar of this period, but please do reblog this post (or tag me on another post) with the hashtag “#mythical figures as historical people” and add some more of your historical figure Greek God fancasts!

Note 2: this post is for entertaining purpose, and just me introducing some guys to y’all and I am not a historian myself and hopefully you all would still like my takes😅

1. Zeus - Louis XIV of France

First and foremost, I shall introduce the king of gods featured in Greco-Roman myths. You may ask, why don’t I cast Henry VIII of England? Well, my reason is very simple: Henry is far from accurate to Zeus in actual myths.

To be honest, Zeus has a more “absolute power” energy in it, and Louis XIV totally has rocked it (like that iconic line “l’état, c’est moi (I am the state)”). Well, Henry also has that kind of energy but everyone only remembers his six wives and the uncountable number of bloodshed (not to mention Catherine of Aragon is a much better fighter than him—got this from Horrible Histories OwO)... Anyways, Louis XVI is basically a Zeus.

2. Hera - Catherine of Aragon

This brings to Catherine of Aragon herself. She’s a total Q U E E N and if you have watched “Six” the musical you already got what I mean (like, being the wife who married to Henry the longest). There’s also the early warlike aspect in Hera (featured in Homer’s works) that Catherine has it as well (at least you know that she’s getting more victories than Henry if you have watched Horrible Histories season 6, in the episode with Rowan Atkinson playing Henry VIII (which is sad because I want Ben Willbond to play him—he iconic to the HH fandom)), making her a great casting of Hera.

Hera, in my opinion, is a very strong woman who has to take Zeus’s shit and I could totally understand why she took revenge on the girls that Zeus has slept with—but anyways, hopefully you guys would like it :3

3. Aphrodite - Pauline Bonaparte

This is half-self-explanatory, really—just look at that statue she posed as Venus, the Roman equivalent of Aphrodite.

Pauline was famed for her beauty in her time, also a big chunk of scandals from her affairs (which bugs her big brother Napoleon, a lot). Nevertheless, despite her big spending habits and a great sexual appetite, she always helped Napoleon in some surprising ways (like she sold her house in Paris to the Duke of Wellington to get the funds for Napoleon).

Just like Aphrodite herself, Pauline harnessed her beauty very well. Thus, I rest my case.

4. Apollo - Joachim Murat or Emperor Franz Joseph I of Austria

(Warning: long content ahead)

Firstly, let me briefly introduce them because you guys might not know them much.

Joachim Murat was a marshal of France, also one of Napoleon’s brother-in-law, grand duke of Berg and Cleves from 1806 to 1808 and the King of Naples from 1808 to 1815. After the wars, he attempted to escape yet was caught and executed in 1815 in Pizzo, Italy (if you have read of Alexandre Dumas’s “Famous Crimes” you might know him—by the way no one has cut his head off and sent it to that big nose King Ferdinand).

For those who have watched “Elisabeth” or the “Sissi” movies, you might know Franz Joseph I of Austria already but you might not know much about himself besides being the husband of the (in)famous Empress Sisi (ie. Empress Elisabeth of Austria). He was the Emperor of the Austria from 1848 to his death in 1916—one of the longest reigning European monarchs in history. During his reign, the empire had been through a lot of change, most notably, the creation of Austria-Hungary. Nevertheless, he was also the Emperor who started World War I and he died of old age in the midst of the Great War.

For Apollo, I’m not casting musicians because this is quite overdone. I rather want to shed a light to the other arts that he represented in Greco-Roman mythology. This makes me want to draw a parallel to Joachim Murat as he was also a great sucker of classical literature. Plus, he also was known to be a flamboyant dresser (his nickname was “the Dandy King” by the way), also the designer of the uniforms of the Neapolitan army (with an excessive amount of amaranth, perhaps his favourite colour). Really, everyone just sees him as a great flamboyant himbo but in reality, he’s iconically badass in the battlefield as the First Horseman of Europe. Well, also he’s known for being extremely good with women even though his wife Caroline was fierce as hell. So, in my opinion, he fits the image of Apollo that we know.

However, you guys might feel surprised why I picked Franz Joseph for Apollo. Well, he really... was a rather mediocre ruler in my opinion, and perhaps our most memorable image of him was the senile emperor who signed the declaration of war to Serbia. Nevertheless, he was a well-liked man among his subjects, at least to some old citizens of Austria-Hungary telling future generations. Besides, culture flourished in Vienna under his reign—with notable figures like Sigmund Freud, Ludwig Wittgenstein and Erwin Schrödinger. Despite the series of unfortunate events which made the empire started to crumble, Austria-Hungary arguably has its cultural importance in Europe. Sounds like what Apollo would do if he’s a ruler, somehow.

Well, enough of his political achievements, let’s talk about his private life... which was probably the actual reason why I picked him.

Enter Duchess Elisabeth in Bavaria, the Empress of Austria and Queen of Hungary, also known as Sisi.

On a side note, Marshal Louis-Alexandre Berthier of France, Prince of Neufchâtel and of Wargram, was Empress Sisi’s grand-uncle in-law via his marriage to Duchess Maria Elisabeth in Bavaria

Absolutely love Pia as Elisabeth in the musical so please don’t mind me using a gif from this :3 ((also, “Elisabeth” spoiler alert

Franz originally was to marry her sister Helene (nicknamed Néné), nevertheless, on the first meeting in Bad Ishl, he has fallen for the young Elisabeth, head over heels—making him defying his domineering mother, Archduchess Sophie, for the very first time. Elisabeth also liked him and did not expressed her refusal either, so they got married in St. Augustine’s Church in 29th April, 1854.

However, the marriage was not well. Sisi was not accustomed to the strict Austrian court especially Archduchess Sophie (also she was not really a fan of intimacy). Poor Franz was rather helpless in situations between his mother and his wife, and eventually, Sisi chose her freedom over her duty as Empress, traveling around the world. They two briefly went back together during the Austro-Hungarian compromise, yet she was constantly not there. Eventually, Sisi was assassinated by an anarchist named Luigi Lucheni during her stay in Geneva, Switzerland, and Franz was devastated over her death (“she will never know how much I love her”).

To Franz, he loved her so, but he really didn’t understand her needs. Even though he had countless mistresses and female companions in Vienna, he still missed his wife. I say, he was really unlucky when it comes to love. Like Apollo himself, he dated countless nymphs and humans, but a lot of his notable relationships did not have a good end. (Probably Cyrene was the most lucky one, yet she also has chosen to be left alone after mothering several children with Apollo.) For this, I picked Franz Joseph as Apollo.

5. Ares - Jean Lannes or Michel Ney

As usual, for those who don’t know much history, I shall briefly introduce my babeys these two great soldiers.

Jean Lannes was one of the marshals of Napoleon, known for being one of Napoleon’s closest friends and his fiery personality, and is considered one of the best marshals of the 1st French Empire. His finest moments including the Battle of Ratisbon in which he led his men to storm the well-guarded city with ladders (hence his nickname “ladder lord” in our very humble Napoleonic marshalate fandom :3). Sadly, he died of the wound he received in the battle of Aspern-Essling in 1809.

Michel Ney was also one of the marshals of Napoleon, known for his extreme valour (yep, he is known as the “Bravest of the Brave”). As you might know, he was one of the marshals who was in Waterloo, yet, his finest hour was during the retreat from Russia in the disasterous 1812. Sadly, he was arguably the most prominent victim of the White Terror under the second Bourbon restoration, executed in 1815 (**I am not accepting any kind of conspiracy theories of my babey survived and died in America😤).

Speaking of Ares, I have a lot of things to say (that’s my dad ;-; no jkjk). He is really not that bloodthirsty idiot who casually hates humans. Well, he’s more like a fiery dork and a man who was very faithful to his lovers, and fights very well (by the way also one of the best dads). So, the bois that come into my mind are automatically two of the most courageous marshals of France.

Lannes, if I have to get him a godly parent, it would definitely Ares. He resembled the god a lot (also I sometimes imagined Ares as a smol bean with dark hair), probably looks the most like Ares himself. He got that fiery temper, that faithfulness to his wife Louise, also being a very courageous fighter in the field—well he literally was like, “NO LEMME STORM DAT CITY *grabs ladder*”.

There you have it, my big bro our ladder lord Jean Lannes who can pull off a perfect Ares.

Ney is like a slightly introverted (and mature) version of an Ares person. You can guess his temper already through his famed auburn hair, and indeed despite his shy exterior his temper sometimes was a bit explosive, and a bit impatient (which was somehow one of his fatal flaws). He was a great fighter, known as a skilled swordsman in his youth. And you all know how brave he is in his famed epithet. Michel Ney is purely badass (and C U T E) you know (and he needs a lot of hugs because he has really been though a lot in the wars, and was a possible case of PTSD which was shown in his arguably suicidal behaviour during the battle of Waterloo). That’s why I casted him as the Greek god Ares OwO

//

And there you have it, my interpretations on the Greek gods via people in history. I originally would like to include more but somehow I realised that I have written too much about my picks. So, if you want to add more, reblog this post or tag me on the post you made on this topic (and please use the hashtag “mythical figures as historical people” so that I could look into your choices via the search bubble on this app🥺).

Last but not the least, I hope you all lovelies like this, also have learnt something new via my brief introductions on some historical people. Have a great day!

[writing-whimsical-worlds]

Lab Rat

Eventual Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

Summary: English enthusiast and art-minded y/n feels like she is disappointing her father, and Peter Parker’s newfound presence in Tony’s heart does nothing to quell her fears.

A/N: This is basically a set up for a series if there is any interest. Let me know!

“I just don’t understand how you can have such a gifted brain in sciences and mathematics and yet you refuse to utilize it. Make it make sense!”

“Dad, come on. Is it so hard to believe that maybe I want to pursue my actual interests instead of doing what is expected of me? I’m a good writer and I just want to see where I can go with that.”

This whole “what is y/n’s future?” conversation has been going on for months because Tony, for some reason, thinks he can change my mind about my future endeavors. Yes, I do have over a 98% average in all of my honors and advanced placement science and math classes, but that does not mean I enjoy it. I loathe every second of them but I’ll be damned if I get a less-than-outstanding grade in ANY course. He raised a perfectionist, what can I say?

“I just need you to recognize your potential, y/n. You’re a Stark! You have so many opportunities right at you fingertips! Write as a hobby, I don’t care. But I will not allow you to waste the talent and intelligence that you clearly have,” Tony continues.

“I don’t want to. I will be miserable! And my intelligence is not being wasted; I want to pursue further education in English, maybe some foreign languages. I can and will be successful doing so.” I stand up from the kitchen bar-stool ready to leave the room. This conversation never ends until one of us gives up and leaves, so I guess I’ll be the one to call it.

“No no no, you aren’t leaving right now, y/n. This is important-”

I keep walking towards the door but he doesn’t quit.

“You know I just want what’s best for you. I’m thinking of your future!” He has to shout that last part a little since I’m already halfway down the hall.

I know it seems a little bitchy to walk away from a parent like that, but sometimes it’s necessary to stay sane in this household. And by household, I mean the Avengers compound - since nothing in my life can ever be simple. 

I slow from a fast stride to a stroll, nearing my quarters where I can finally get away from my dad and our endless bickering. I love him to death, but I need a break. 

To my dismay, I happen to pass by the last person I want to see right now, Peter Parker. He’s my dad’s newest addition around here and all I ever do is hear about it. “Peter is so smart, y/n, you should really learn from him. Peter is so great, y/n, why can’t you be more like him?” God, I have nothing against the guy, but after hearing his name come out of my fathers mouth so much, I was just about fed up.

“Hey y/n, you coming down to the lab later to help work on my suit? Your dad and I are making a ton of progress,” he says, practically buzzing with excitement. I do admit that his boyish charm is a little hard to resist. I still have no interest in his proposal, however.

“No thanks, definitely don’t want any part in that,” I roll my eyes. 

“Is everything okay? Your dad told me you you haven’t been... working as hard lately...” I can tell he’s nervous saying that, and he sure as hell should be.

“Excuse me? Just because I don’t spend my entire life in the lab doesn’t mean I’m not ‘working hard.’ I can do other things! Other valid things with my life that don’t involve astrophysics or whatever the hell he wants me to be doing.” Maybe it’s unfair to take this out on Peter, but he’s the one who brought it up.

He holds his hands up in placating surrender. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. But you really shouldn’t take this stuff for granted, y/n. You’re a Stark.”

You’re a Stark. 

Yeah, no shit. 

I ignore him and head to my room to change into workout clothes rather than the lounge wear I was planning on wearing. I’m too worked up to finish the editorial I was working on. I may not be into the science part of my legacy, but I loved my affinity for kicking ass. I could train for hours in the gym and, hopefully, my favorite sparring partner would be down there.

Luckily, he was. 

“Hey Buck.” I can tell he already knows what’s coming. My recent blowouts with my father have not been very subtle around here.

“Here to blow off some steam, y/n/n? Bet Tony never knew what hit him.”

“Actually, I’m sure he thinks he won this one,” I grimaced. “It’s like running in circles with that man.”

“No comment,” he laughs. It’s no secret that he and my father don’t really have the best relationship either. However, we don’t have to dwell on it. One thing I love about him is he doesn’t pry, and he can tell when I’m not here to talk things out. He can also tell, though, when I want to beat the shit out of something. What better than a super soldier?

Of course, this is said loosely considering I am merely a teenage girl with mediocre fighting skills. I have been getting a lot better, though, with Bucky as my teacher. He’s hard on me, but I learn a lot. 

Between hits and dodges, I huff my most recent grievances through labored breathing.

“He.... never... listens to me! I see him... with... that spider kid... and it’s like... just adopt him already!” We come to a standstill and I can tell Bucky doesn’t really know what to say to that. “I’m sorry, Buck. I just feel like if I’m such a disappointment, at least he has Peter, ya know? He already acts more like a dad to him than he ever has to me.”

It was harsh, but wasn’t entirely false. My father, while caring for me deeply, was really hard on me throughout my life. He’s always been so judgmental, and I can’t help but feel like he’s unhappy with me constantly.

Bucky gives me a look that tells me he thinks I’m being a little over dramatic. “Come on, kid. You know how important you are to him. Peter is just... a lot less stubborn,” he adds with a grin. 

I roll my eyes and punch him in the shoulder playfully. He continues, “Oh, come on. You know you don’t exactly make things easy on him. It also doesn’t help that you guys are so different. I mean, aside from the mutual bull-headedness, you guys are like day and night. Go easy on him, doll.”

He’s right, and it pisses me off. I do really care for my father and feel a little guilty about how I stormed off earlier. It’s probably due to my strenuous workout, but I felt a lot less inclined to argue and sought to make peace with my dad. I guess I’ll head over to my room to shower and get changed. After that, reluctantly, I’ll go apologize to Tony. 

-

Walking into the lab did nothing to brighten my mood as I see Peter and my dad working together amicably. It differed greatly than the way my dad and I worked together - it usually ended up with various items flung across the room as frustrations rose and I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. Hey, he raised me.

“Hey, uh. Can I talk to you, dad?”

Tony raised his head from his work, surprised to see me standing there. Mostly because he hadn’t expected me to come back and talk to him for the rest of the day, and also because he didn’t hear me walk up to him, too engrossed in whatever he was working on.

“Hey, princess.” He’s hesitant. I know he doesn’t enjoy arguing with me, and the truth is, I don’t enjoy it either. Lately, it’s just been inevitable. “Uh, I really want to get this done as soon as possible and Peter can’t make it over tomorrow, so it has to be tonight. I’ll probably be up late, too, so... maybe we can talk tomorrow?” 

I could see he really was busy, and knew for a fact that Peter had academic decathlon meetings every Wednesday afternoon, but I couldn’t help but take offense at his dismissive tone. For once, I took the high road, and he can’t even tear his eyes away from Peter’s stupid spider suit long enough to hear me out. 

It all comes back to Peter, doesn’t it? We’ll see about that...

[worldofandromeda]

Stray Kids Headcanon: As Boyfriends.

A/N: I spent over two and a half hours writing this, I hope you fucking enjoy it. Requests are open. (I swear, if the fucking gifs don’t work, I’m gonna sue my mother for making me exist).

Requested: No. By Who: my fucking imagination.

Word Count: 2052.

Not proofread or edited.

BANG CHAN

extremely loyal but also a bit of a shameless flirt, so he would need a partner that is able to snap him out of that habit

doesn’t overreact in fights, is actually pretty calm and rarely loses his temper

indecisive, so his partner would nearly definitely always end up being the one picking where you two eat or going on vacation together, stuff like that

loves when you compliment him but will give you ten more for every single one you give him, he just wants to make you feel loved

I feel like he would really enjoy simple date nights at home like when you two have a movie night or cook together, it doesn’t matter what you do, he just wants to be with you

but, I also feel like he is a big money spender, so i feel like he would spend a lot of his money buying you unnecessary gifts when he travels and treating you to really expensive and fancy dates whenever it is possible for him to do so

KIM WOOJIN

impulsive, probably really into spontaneous sex, maybe even public but he wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with even if you were misbehaving (I think he’s a dom but eh, who knows, his personality seems a bit sub to me, so maybe a switch, who knows?)

easily jealous, will actually hit a guy if he won’t leave you alone, yelling at anyone who looks at you the wrong way and don’t get me started on if some dude groped you or slapped your ass, cute little Woojin is about to unleash his inner WWE wrestler

would love being near you but also needs his alone time, so sometimes he would just turn his phone off for a couple of hours, just to have a bit of time to himself and you understand that, so you’re all good, no fighting about it, except maybe the first time he does it without letting you know, making you worry for him when he wasn’t replying

gets bored easily and is probably really adventurous, so sometimes you two would just be watching TV when he’ll say, ‘wanna go rock climbing?’ or ‘I want to go on a hike this weekend, you in?’ something like that.

problem solver, you got an issue? Tell him. Will encourage you to be open with your feelings and he will try his hardest to find a solution and make you feel happy and content again (p.s. he loves your smile)

his partner will most likely plan most of the dates but he would really love them if they had to do with something active, like ziplining or ice skating, even just going through a haunted house will really excite him (but be ready for him to cling onto you whenever there is a jump scare)

LEE MINHO

wants to know everything about you, might come off as a little nosy but really, he just wants to feel like he knows you better than anyone else because that would make him feel really proud

it would probably take a bit of time for him to open up to you and also, he would probably be the most cautious member when it came to announcing your relationship to the stays

would tease you a lot but he does it out of love, sort of like a little boy pulling his crush’s hair to get her attention (except he already has your attention, have you seen him?)

wouldn’t let anyone else’s thoughts of you change his opinion, if he thinks your beautiful then he thinks you’re beautiful, if he thinks you’re his soulmate and the most intelligent person he has ever met, then you’re his soulmate and the most intelligent person he’s ever met, he doesn’t care about what others think of you or your relationship as long as you are both happy, healthy and together

I swear, he’s a psychic, knows what his partner is thinking before they do. notices when his partner is sad, even when they try to hide it. he can tell how his partner is feeling just by the littlest things and he always tries his best to make them smile and feel better

is very good at knowing when his partner is lying, will find their tells very quickly and he would be really sad if they were lying about something that could hint at them cheating but he would feel even worse if they lied about their problems as to not ‘burden’ him. he wants to know about their problems, so he can help.

SEO CHANGBIN

always wants your attention, probably a bit clingy but not in the annoying way, in the cute way, would love just talking with you, no phones or anything, just you two, focused on each other

dramatic, always showing you off and yelling about how pretty you are and about how perfect he finds you, even when you’re not there with him

i feel like he’s actually really sensitive (i mean, when chan wrote that letter, remember?), so, there’s a chance a chance that when you guys argue he would start crying, most likely after though because he wouldn’t want you to see him break down

low maintenance, you don’t need to do much to make him happy, kiss his cheek and ruffle his hair affectionately and damn bitch, you got yourself a tamed and cheery pup

would probably really like singing with you, so, look out for all of those karaoke dates, even if you do sound like you’ve just swallowed a pineapple whole, including the skin and leaves (leaves, stalks? i don’t fucking know)

will always try to impress you, showing you new dances and raps, really wants to make you proud (even though you obviously already are)

HWANG HYUNJIN

hates fighting with you, so he tries to quickly resolve fights but if he’s actually really pissed off then it would probably end up with him breaking down and you having to comfort him

probably didn’t make the first move but was definitely crushing on you and really excited when you approached him and introduced yourself

will blush whenever you kiss his cheek or doing anything affectionate, especially in public or in front of the members, no matter how long you’ve been dating

really romantic, gets you flowers all the time, always takes you out for a fancy dinner whenever he sees you after a long time, buys you cute gifts, etc.

tells you that he loves you all the time. no matter the situation, when you leave the room, come back to the room, go out, when you wake up or at just random times, he just blurts it out. you two could be paintballing on opposite teams but he would still yell those three words across the field to you.

really loves holding your hands or just touching you in general (sexual and not 😉), puts his hand on your thigh when you two are in the car, always has his arm around your shoulders, kisses your jaw head every time you hug

HAN JISUNG

for some unknown reason i feel like he would have really high standards, so his future partner better feel fucking good if he chooses to be with her

gets shit done, you need to pack? bitch it’s done before you get to your bedroom. you want food? he’s already on the phone calling the local pizza place.

would notice all the little things about you, like the way you bite your nails or pull at your hair when you’re annoyed. he would be able to easily figure out how you’re feeling because of his observations

loves planning dates with you and always has the most ridiculous but ultimately hilarious and really fun ideas.

loyal as fuck, no hoe is getting their hands on your man, probably really sassy with anyone that hits on him.

bit picky about everything but i think he would try his best to compromise with you when it comes to certain things.

LEE FELIX

Plays video games a lot which really annoys you sometimes and you tend push him off the bed if he accidentally yells at you when you unintentionally distract him.

Really talkative and has the most random conversations with you but you don’t mind because they either turn out really cute or funny as all hell. Said conversations tend to happen at 3am in the kitchen while you two eat ice cream out of a tub with you sitting on the counter and Felix standing between your legs.

Loves taking you everywhere, whether that be to events, dance practice, concerts, on tour, everything. He just wants to be as close to you as possible and refuses to let anything get in the way of that.

Tends to show up late to dates but it definitely isn’t intentional, he just loses track of time or on some occasions dance practice, recording or song writing ran late. Always makes it up to you though.

A bit crazy but I mean so are you if he agreed to date you. Dance battles, food fights and hysterical laughter are all very common within your relationship and you both adore those regular occurrences.

Something you are very jealous of is his ability to look like the human definition of a rotten egg (bitch, he could never look anything less than perfect) and then, 10 minutes later, this GREEK MOTHERFUCKING GOD walks out of the damn bathroom.

KIM SEUNGMIN

really good problem solver and refuses to let arguments get out of hand. He doesn’t want you to be yelling at him when you could be cuddling or making out or watching tv or making music or laughing (etc.) with him.

does random things for you, like grabbing your phone for you, carrying your bag, bringing your dishes to the sink, answering your phone (if you say he can because you’re busy doing something), brushing your hair and more. He just likes helping you out as much as possible even if it’s with little mediocre tasks.

is very, very honest with you. Will tell you the truth about anything, how an outfit looks on you, his feelings, what happened to your leftovers, that rash on his ass (CUNT, WHAT-).

likes easy dates, going to the cinema, aquarium or zoo, a small picnic, a music festival maybe, even an art museum.

sometimes gets insecure and needs you to help him out of that bottomless pit, like, when he had so much trouble confessing to you because of his fear of rejection, it was fine though seeing as you liked him back (obviously! Who wouldn’t?)

is randomly silent sometimes which worries you but most of the time he’s either staring at you or daydreaming about you.

YANG JEONGIN

sometimes gets randomly moody but tries his best not to take it out on you and instead, walks out of the room to try and calm himself down or sometimes he just ignores you, so he doesn’t accidentally hurt your feelings, even though that would end up annoying you, lol.

Really likes receiving sentimental gifts, he doesn’t care if it’s not expensive or designer, he would definitely love a scrapbook or photo album about your relationship more than some stupid Gucci belt (can’t say the same for Taehyung though, lollll, I’m not funny).

Whenever you guys fought, he would leave because he hated the drama of it all. He would probably write you a letter as a form of apology. Speaking of letters, love letters! Or poems! Wait! Songs, he would fucking write songs for and about you, yes. Bitch!

Always sees the best in you and literally nothing about you seems like a flaw to him. In his opinion, you are legitimately perfect and bitch, if you tried to change anything, just know that this cutie would throw you over his shoulder before you even tried to change your style to look like everyone else.

He would love every second he spent with you, always taking pictures of you and everything you guys do, he’s just really fucking cute, which we all obviously already know.

If you rejected him because you were worried about him hurting you, get ready for this determined boy to prove you wrong, if he wants you, he’s going to get you (as long as it doesn’t make you uncomfortable).

[whatshockey]

slow dancing in the dark - k.k.

A KASPERI KAPANEN IMAGINE.

in which what was supposed to be a goodbye declared in the dead of night ended up being stretched into the following morning

song used for inspiration: “SLOW DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji

word count: 3,909

warnings: mentions of alcohol, some smut and cursing, and breaking off things for good type of thing. overall just really angsty i’m sorry lol

a/n: i promise that i won’t only do song fics but this song grew on me late one night and this is my first time attempting anything raunchier than kissing lmao

-

Her eyes bled sorrow and throat swelled in heartbreak. Another sob shook through her frame, leaving her knees quivering on the porcelain tile of the bathroom floor, bending further into his lap with every chill down her spine. Her lips cracked and knuckles dampened from attempting to keep her tears hidden, palms heavy as she gripped his shirt collar with the feeling of regret already beginning to creep in. “Stop it,” her mind scolded, and she really did want to. But her voice was drowned out by his dangerously reassuring whispers of, “Shh, it’s okay” and “I’ve got you, baby.”

Only four hours ago, she’d been camouflaged in the buzzing streets of Toronto, forcing her lips together in attempts to form something that resembled a smile. The large jacket hung off of her back, and months ago a last name could’ve been found blanketing his shoulder blades, one that did not match the man’s whose hand held her’s. She could still faintly smell his scent lodged in between the pairing of the worn out fleece and denim, but at times wondered if she had imagined it all, cursing herself for thinking about the same scent lingering on her pillowcase when she was in the company of another man.

Scotiabank Area couldn’t feel more cold, despite the thousands packed and seated dressed in variations of blue. It had only been their third date and somehow her heart had managed to wedge another blade in between her breaths, slowly digging further into her chest as the minutes ran by. Her eyes flickered to the suite that was surely full of the women that, at one point in her life, she could’ve considered sisters. She allowed her mind to wander back to the nights she’d spend in there cheering on her favorite person in the world, whereas now the new couple, although she avoided referring to it as such, sat uncomfortably close to the ice. The sounds of blades carving the sheets of ice echoed before her, and her pulse heightened at the mere glimpse of his jersey, one she’d worn many times before. Before he’d claim that he’d always be able to spot her even if she was in the midst of millions, and she’d wondered if he still looked for her in the crowd, or if he simply stopped caring to do so at all. What would he think if he saw her, at his own game, wrapped in the arms of a stranger who probably couldn’t keep up with the sport himself if he tried.

Her lips curled, finding the irony of the situation amusing. Karma was certainly a bitch, and she almost wanted to laugh at her own stupidity. She had allowed her date to drag her into a bar later that night. The same one where she had shared a heated kiss pressed up against a bathroom stall, a vein-covered hand moving to unbutton her jeans. She felt her cheeks burn as she was ushered into the club with a far less calloused and muscular arm against her back, and internally blamed the contrast of the temperature outside rather than the memory of another doing the same. Her date’s arm never left her waist, even as the two sat down on the stools and he’d pulled his close enough so that their entire sides were squeezed together, lips ghosting over her ear as he made a mediocre joke in which she forced herself to laugh to.

Her date attempted to gain the bartender’s attention, but he had noticed them immediately, recognizing the shine of her hair even in the dimmed lights of the club. He’d addressed her by her first name, earning a confused look from her date. However, she managed to ignore his stare as she ordered two of her regulars, and refrained from referring to it as such. Explaining to her date how much she’d frequented this bar with a man he could never compare to was not on her agenda for the evening. And neither was gossiping about their colleagues from work, which he had turned the conversation to and she had no interest in amusing as their drinks were placed before them. The two had met a company party, never interacting before as they worked in separate departments. She particularly avoided her male colleagues, knowing to never make her professional life messy if she could. However, he’d been the most attractive one there, and perhaps the most attractive man she’d seen in a while, and as much as she’d preferred a certain edge she was used to on a man, her would-be date was now her ex. And her coworker’s dress pants seemed to fit particularly tight at his groin in a way that she couldn’t help but admire.

“Uh,” he cut in, looking over her shoulder as she attempted to navigate the conversation onto the latest project she’d been working on, her eyes narrowing at his interruption. “Sorry, but are those the leafs?”  

It had been surprising he even spotted them, seeing as the club had been packed with sweaty bodies in short dresses and ripped jeans grinding against each other or stumbling to down two more shots of vodka. It had been even more surprising that they had even attended such a place post their big win for the night. The city’s heroes usually opted for a far more elite establishment even on their off days, taking over the VIP section with expensive liquor at their lips and beautiful women at their sides.

What hadn’t been surprising, however, was finding her ex boyfriend and a girl with a siren-like gaze hanging off of him, dressed in a deep red dress that made her skin glow gold. She could tell that even with heels, the woman would tower over her frame, offering a much envied advantage when bruising his neck with her full lips, painted so that they’d match the fabric stretched across her breasts and hips.

They had all already been facing her as she turned around. She’d avoided looking at his face, knowing very well that it would only take one second under his eyes to have her coming undone, but whether she’d run into his arms or out of the door, she did not know. Will had been the first to acknowledge her with something other than a blank stare, grinning almost instantly as their eyes briefly met, and he’d already been at his feet approaching her. She wondered why others hadn’t protested against it, and what had been going through her date’s mind as she could feel his arm freeze in place along her hips. She wasn’t sure if she really cared about what exactly he thought of her in the moment as he watched her with a shocked stare, but she shook away from his grip and leaned out to greet her old friend who’d outstretched his arms. The two had grown awfully close over the last year, which only made her hurt more while he helped her as she packed up her things from his teammate’s apartment.

Freddie had been next, sending her a small smile and quick kiss on the cheek. He’d become quite a comforting presence to be around, always available for a good conversation or comfort when her boyfriend was injured. She hadn’t noticed him following, instead catching eyes with Auston, who sent her a tight-lipped smile and casual nod, and continued to hold onto the girl on his lap who was just as attractive as the other. She wish she could bring herself to fearlessly stare down the last leaf, but instead opted to turn her focus back onto the two towering over her. She could still picture the countless messages he’d received from other girls during their run, her own mind replaying the images of their bodies twisted in flattering angles and perfectly lined eyes. He’d never reply, but she almost wished he did so she could prepare for this moment, because he was undoubtedly talking to one of them now. Hadn’t any of the other inhabitants of the bar noticed them yet? It felt as if they were the only ones in there.

The same arm from before wrapped itself around her frame and she fought the urge to roll her eyes, refusing to introduce the two to her plus one. The more time she spent around him, the more he clinged on, and she was left missing the large hand that would cup the flesh of her thighs under the table at team dinners, the same would that would wrap around her throat in their bedroom afterwards. Despite how delicious the man from work looked with his sleeves rolled up, his arms were left bare, and no art could be used as stencils for her love bites to trail her tongue across.

Her thighs clenched at the thought, but the feeling quickly left as she felt the vibrations from the voice next to her speaking, congratulating the two men on the game.

“We were at the game,” he’d mentioned, her stomach lurching as he squeezed her side tighter. “It was, like, really crazy.”

She secretly thanked Freddie, who’d been eyeing her for enough time to know she was growing uncomfortable, quickly thanking her date and steered the conversation away. Will, on the other hand, looked at her expectantly, as if she’d introduce them at a shudder from his hard glare. She shook her head, knowing very well the boy would prounce back to his former roommate and share every detail of their encounter with him. And she was unfortunately very aware what the outcome would be upon the announcement of the fact that she still attended their games.

The players eventually bid a goodbye, final hugs exchanged, and made her promise to catch up over a lunch with them soon. Her date practically reeked of curiosity, and laid out a simple answer to his question before he could ask.

“We met through a mutual friend.”  

It wasn’t a complete lie, but she hadn’t wasted time to feel guilty. She’d begun pouring more alcohol into her system, mind buzzing from everything that had taken place over the past five minutes. She felt as if she had just ran a marathon, and didn’t know if she’d ever see the finish line. But more than anything, she didn’t want to feel like looking on the opposite end of the bar any longer.

Within the next hour, her vision clouded and the four men were long forgotten, making her question whether they were imagined in the first place. The date’s hand now resting lower, lips stretching to fill the space between them as he leaned down to capture her ear with compliments on her outfit tonight. He’d been used to seeing her in pencil skirts and cigarette pants, the recent college grad being the hottest topic amongst the male employees. However, the dip of the neckline and hug of her jeans left her drowning in praises with eyes trailing over every inch of visible skin.

She didn’t complain. Perhaps it was due to alcohol replacing the blood in her veins, or solely due to the fact that it had been some time that she’d been laid. Nonetheless, she excused his blatant advances, entertaining the possibility of sleeping with the same man who’d made his first move through buying her a coffee during his lunch hour that at the time she’d thought was lame. Maybe it was time she lowered her expectations.

It hadn’t been her fault, that she’d known clear as day. With how close she had been sitting to her date, the two barely took up space for one person. However, she suddenly felt a harsh nudge at her back, lunging her forward to collide with her date’s chest, which caused her to reach out and push away to see who her attacker was.

She began apologizing out of instinct, until her eyes focused and ears curled at the sound of a silky, dangerously low voice that nearly sent her flying over the bar counter itself.

“My bad,” his voice rang arrogantly, licking his full lips perfectly pink. “Didn’t see you there.”

Her eyes locked onto hazel eyes, ones that felt so familiar as they enveloped her, to his pouted lips in a cocky smirk, and finally to the tattooed arm that grasped her forearm as if he was steadying her, completely aware of the fire that shot up her arm as he held her in a firm grip.

A choked noise erupted from her chest, and the man leaned back to size up her own date as well.

“Pretty girl you got here.”

And with his kind, yet backhanded remark, he turned his back and left, palm lingering on her wrist a bit longer than the rest of his body had.

With a pale face and spine on the verge of shaking, she felt as if she had just seen a ghost. The entire unexpected encounter left her in chills, yet her skin still burned where he had touched her. It couldn’t be home, no way. She definitely had too much to drink.

Until her date spoke up in a much less shocked tone than he had before, voicing her thoughts all while confirming her fears.

“Okay,” he started chuckling lightly, then took a deep breathe nearly as big as her’s. “Was that Kappy or am I just going crazy?”

Maybe it was just a guy who looked like him, she thought. Surely, he’d left with his conquer of the night, or perhaps even with Auston and the two would switch off after a few rounds. He’d do anything before speaking to her, wouldn’t he?

It wasn’t until she looked over her date’s shoulder, who sat sipping on only his second drink (he wanted to drive her home, after all) and yet once again, connected eyes with the devil himself. He held her there, frozen, with such a challenging stare that her heartbeat replaced the bass of the speakers. He allowed one eye to drop down in a sly wink, tongue darting to the corners of his mouth as he drank in her silhouette for a final time, and turned his back once again, finally out of the club with no other girl in sight.  

The two left not too long after that. She’d mentioned she suddenly felt sick, thinking that the alcohol had gotten to her and apologized for wanting to go home, although she wasn’t sorry in the slightest. His cologne began to invade her senses and his hold on her made her feel trapped, causing her to grow nauseous and wish she’d been pressing her face into the firm chest of another man. One who had held her hair back the first time she was this drunk in his presence, and the same one who told her he’d fight for her regardless of the competition.

The thing is, he loved to play games. And never though to play fair. Sure, on the ice he followed the rules and earned his spot as a crowd favorite. However, anywhere else, he was in control, and she scolded herself for being so naive. She debated with herself while her date helped her into his front seat, pulling her seat belt over her lap and buckled her in, making sure she was comfortable before jogging over to the driver’s side. Had it been any other day, she’d thank him, maybe even swooned. However, her head throbbed saying one name over and over, and it wasn’t his.

She gave him directions, ignoring the way his palm crept up her knee, knowing that the other man she kept thinking about would’ve rubbed small loving circles with his thumb on the inside of her thighs. It wasn’t long before she found themselves driving along a familiar street, lights glaring on the sidewalk she spent many nights on, hand in hand with someone who at the time she considered, above all, her best friend. Although she hadn’t realized until that exact moment, she wondered if it had been unintentional at all, as she lived on the other side of the city yet automatically told him to go this way. And even went as far as telling him to pull up to a luxury apartment building she no longer could call her’s, never thinking once to stop herself before she made a stupid decision.

She leaned in to give him a quick peck on the cheek, waving off his pleas to “make sure she got up safely” thinking this is where she lived. As sweet as he was, it wasn’t what she craved, and she wish she’d lost her appetite by the time she was knocking on the man’s door.

He’d welcomely opened it, almost as if he’d been waiting for her, and was conveniently shirtless with sweatpants hanging low. He met her lips expectantly as she threw herself on him, arms wrapping around his shoulder and fingers raking through his hair, holding on as if he would be stripped away from her in a heartbeat. She didn’t care that his pretentious neighbors could pass by any minute, because all she wanted to see, feel and hear was him. He groaned into her mouth, teeth clashing as he grabbed onto everything that he could with her chest pressed up against him. First her hips, then ass, and finally the back of her thighs as he carried her from the doorway, kicking it closed with his heel and moved them further into the apartment.

He pushed her against a wall, hands moving under his shirt to cup her breasts and bite at her neck, everywhere his lips fell left her scorching and writhing under him, merciless to his touch. She’d been moved and backed up again, this time with no clothes remaining and lips replacing where her’s had been. He mirrored her, grinding his naked body against her before reaching over and turning on the shower over their heads, water racing down the valley in between her breasts as he leaned down to lick it away. She knew he could still smell her coworker’s cologne on her, and wanted to tell him that his own musk was indescribably intoxicating, but could only manage a strangled moan as her trailed his lips farther down her body.

“You looked so good out there tonight,” she gasped as she felt him move his hand down to cup her heat, to which he replied by thrusting two fingers into her.

“I know.”

She had so much to say to him. She’d been rehearsing on her way up in the elevator. Yet as his fingers curled, she found herself shaking in seconds, begging him to continue as he teased her.

“Always such a fucking good girl for me,” he growled into her neck, sucking onto a particularly soft spot that she assumed no other man would ever be able find. His teeth scraped against her pulse, and she shook, unraveling and shaking, knowing she’d have fallen over if it wasn’t for him holding her up.

As she came down from her high, she could feel her chest tighten, making her collapse against him in exhaustion and full realization of what she was doing. He’d been so nonchalant during their encounter beforehand, and she questioned whether she’d known him at all. She’d ran back like a sick puppy, asking for attention and celebrating in it as if he didn’t plan to put her up for adoption the next day. And yet, she didn’t want to stop, nor could if she even wanted to.

Her sobs were muffled by his chest, as he quickly turned off the tap and moved to encompass her in his arms, wrapping her in a towel and sitting her on his lap as she shook in despair, coughing on her own cries and shifting to stop her from aggressively rubbing her eyes from stripping her vision away.

“Kas,” she weeped, clutching onto him, knowing that she’d leave before the day breaks and the two continue to pretend that they don’t know each other, and that they don’t care about each other in the slightest.

That couldn’t be farther from the truth, and she knew this as he carried her to the bed, moving her so that she rested on the plush pillows and rubbed her thighs in the most soothing manner. She didn’t know how many more apologies and promises she needed to hear before she could breathe again, but her chest tightened at the sight of him gently kissing the small ink on her ankle, one she’d spontaneously gotten with him only after knowing each other for six weeks.

He continued to move up her legs, and the rest of the night went on as the two continued to re-learn and memorize every inch of each other’s bodies, spending extra time fawning over the way each other’s lips molded together and their bodies fit like puzzle pieces. He eventually collapsed on her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as she swallowed the tears that threatened to pool over again.

“Please stay.”

He had whispered it into her hair, and it had been so soft, she wondered if he’d even said anything at all.

Yet she did, and didn’t want to think about why as wrapped a leg over his and he pulled her even closer than before.

The two never slept that night, instead choosing to bask in each other’s warmth and mixed scent sticking and coating their skins. No more words were exchanged, and she held her breath, slowing her heartbeat down to match his. And even after climaxing more times than she ever had before, she craved for him to be closer in every way possible. And for once, she finally knew he felt the same.

The sun began to peak out from his curtains, ones that she’d picked out when they first moved in together. Slow sliding down his frame, she once again attempted to leave the bed, cringing at the cold air as she lifted the blanket just enough to stretch a leg out to the floor. Before she could place a foot down, an arm reached out to grab her waist, pulling her back into the bed as the sheets twisted at their connected hips.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he grumbled, pressing his face into her neck as the raspiness scratched at her ears.

She combed her fingers through his hair, sighing as she looked at the time on the clock already quickly approaching noon. Her head pounded and his weight crushed her, yet she felt far more comfortable than she had in awhile.

“Home,” she shrugged, only to be met with a confused daze, eyebrows furrowed as he moved to sit on his elbows, pushing her hair behind her ears.

He hadn’t said anything in response, moving to lift the blanket and settle in between her thighs again, reminding her of the times she’d wake up beside him every day and what they had entailed, and she wondered if he was just mocking her all along.

It was clear that neither wanted another friend in the lives, knowing very well that the two of them could never stay as such. Instead, they waited, and waited, and continued to wait until the day that their “just one more night” finally turned into their final night. And oh, what a tragedy that was.

[songofmysnark]

The Bullshit Industry That Is Women’s Clothing

We’re gonna have a little talk, friends.  We’re gonna have a talk about the state of women’s clothing and how much it sucks.

I’m talking off-the-rack clothing aimed at adult, working women.  Your Ann Taylors.  Your J.Crews.  Your Banana Fucking Republics. The Nordstroms of the world. You know, the companies that are trying to get us to buy their most recent monstrosity of polyblended horror and the subject of plenty of thinkpieces, this one included.  “Are millennials killing the clothing industry?”  Yes, because you deserve to die, but also now we’re naked so can we please strike a plea bargain?

Before any of you get your panties in a twist, I’m counting stay at home moms as working women, because domestic labor is work, childcare is work, and juggling logistics is work.  If you can outsource it and the person who is doing it would reasonably expect to get paid, it’s work -- so don’t tell me being a SAHM isn’t work just because nobody’s paying her to do the job of a nanny, line cook, housekeeper, administrative assistant, executive director, coach, motivational speaker, teacher, or community organizer.  And also, no SAHM should have to resort to the MLM hell that is LueLaRoe in order to clothe her body.  Put the valentine heart printed butter leggings down, Karen.

So, working women, clothing ourselves is hard.  It has gotten worse over the past two decades.  Let us break this shit down:

Declining quality.  Don’t gaslight women over 30 and tell us that the decline in quality is all in our heads and that our expectations have increased as we’ve gotten older and more critical or educated.  A lot of us still have our blazers from J.Crew that we bought in 2007 -- at least I do.  I saved them because they’re gorgeous and sentimental, and now I save them as a physical reminder that clothing currently available to me as a retail consumer has sharply decreased in quality.  

Fit issues.  Between the unreasonably sloppy, inconsistent sizing (sometimes between two of the exact same garments), bizarre proportions, limitations on size ranges, and a seemingly universal refusal to cut garments for women larger than a B cup, women’s clothing fits horribly.  The solution to this problem seems to be to sew everything in stretchy, cheap materials that are clingy, unflattering, and translucent, which translates to...

...Awful styles.  Since the solution to lazy fit is stretch, the industry makes a lot of clothing styles that are not suitable for most women’s daily lives because they’re too cheap to use decent fabric in making clothing to account for the fact that they’re too cheap to invest in fit and quality construction.  Oh, you can’t wear a cold-shoulder top and a pair of stretchy black leggings to your corporate job?  Too fucking bad, that’s what’s in stock right now.  If we call it “Athleisure,” it’s all good!  And if you look shitty in it, it’s because you’re not athletic enough to be wearing it.

It’s funny how when women abandoned the corset, it was liberating -- until style started demanding that women become their own corsets.  No lumps or bumps or bulges allowed, but unless you want to wear Spanx (read: a girdle), you better diet yourself down to a flawlessly smooth size 2 if you don’t want to look horrible in a simple tshirt.

Sure, good style is available to those who have enough social or economic capital to access it -- and by social capital, I am including people who are thin.

The state of plus-sized fashion has always been appalling, but as the country tumbles into greater income inequality, the concentration of jobs paying a living wage into traffic-jammed cities with a lack of reasonably affordable or accessibly housing, the masses are not going to be getting thinner.  The workday has been getting longer, either by extending hours or by making it very clear that people who leave before 6 are slackers, or by tethering us to email in the spirit of “leaning in.”  Sorry, when you spend 1-3 hours/day commuting to your soul-sucking job that doesn’t pay enough to afford help to outsource all of the shit you have to do on weekends in order to function as an adult, the “obesity epidemic” is not going to end.  How about we call a spade a spade: the “obesity epidemic” is a side-effect of the confluence of income inequality and late-stage capitalism.  “Calories in, calories out, it’s so simple!” say people who are able to prioritize and afford to be thin, and are rewarded in kind with clothing that at least isn’t punishingly ugly or uncomfortable.

Let’s talk about uncomfortable clothing: there’s a lot of it when you get out of the stretchy-spandex land masking the laziness of corporate clothing behemoths behind 2% spandex in an already forgiving knit.  Wovens, friends, let’s snark on wovens.  Wovens are the fabrics that are stiffer -- think jeans without spandex, chinos without spandex, button down shirts without spandex, your wool coat without spandex, etc.  

Believe it or not, young people, most of these items didn’t stretch 10-15 years ago, or if they did it was a tiny amount -- enough so that you could comfortably drive a car while still wearing a garment that was purposefully cut and constructed so that it would lay close to the body.  Instead of spandex, clothing was constructed with more ease -- more space, looser in areas where a normal human body needs space to move.  And nobody looked shitty, because the clothing was made so that the structure of the garment kept it from looking like a sack of potatoes; that structure comes from quality fit, construction, and materials.  

And of course, companies will retort that if they did anything the way they did 10-15 years ago, costs would skyrocket!  Materials are expensive and skilled labor isn’t cheap, especially if paid a living wage in a country with labor regulations to protect workers!  To which I say: bullshit.  Costs won’t skyrocket unless you expect customers to pad the pockets of your shareholders and executives to make up for increased production costs that narrow the profit margin.  Essentially, you want the same profit margin that was established and became the norm when you switched to shitty quality while raising prices.

The problem is really of your own doing, Mr. Mall Fashion Executive Dude; you trained your customers to expect good quality clothing for decades, rested on your laurels while increasing your profit margins by cutting production costs, got everyone on the corporate end used to booming profits based on this giant margin, and then got confused when shit went south.  You went for short-term profits, banking on the reputation of your brand to carry the company through a quality control nosedive.  And now we’re rubbing your face in it.

So here’s some advice to the corporate powers that be: 

Make some fucking decent clothing.

Make the entire line in a wide range of sizes, 00-24+ with no differentiation between “plus” and “misses.”  

Give women’s clothing the attention, quality, consistency, and detail of men’s items.

Stop putting random shit on your clothing.  I want a goddamn tshirt without a sequin, weird design, picture of a bird, a saying, etc.

Don’t “bring back a classic” and mark it up 200%.  Take a hint: we all still have that item from 2003, don’t think we won’t compare them and put the videos taking you down for both an outrageous markup and a comparatively mediocre product.  Looking at you, Lululemon’s “full on Luon” (i.e. regular luon from a few years prior with a new name and higher price).  Looking at you, J.Crew icon trench from 2003 (i.e. the old trench marked up higher than it was before but with a shittier fit and cheaper materials).  

If your wovens look like shit on the average American woman, that means you need to hire people who know how to design a decent garment, use better materials, and learn about ease, drape, and tailoring.  

If your pants don’t fit women with hourglass figures, the problem is your pants.

And finally:  Listen to the women screaming at you on Instagram every time you roll out a crappy collaboration.  What do they want?  Natural fibers, better fit, a size range that is inclusive and reflects the general public without arbitrary cutoffs, good design, cohesive collections, solid basics, durability, functional pockets that can hold a fucking iphone, classic lines, and comfort.  

If that is too much of an order, maybe get the fuck out of the industry that makes clothing for women, because there are actually companies that have demonstrated that it is possible to do it right:  MM LaFleur (pricey, but excellent), Boden, Land’s End, etc. are all examples of companies that manage not to completely screw the pooch on selling clothing to women.  Hell, I’ll even give you Eileen Fisher.  Give me some linen and a functional pocket, Ms. Fisher, I’ll gladly look like a sexless therapist who moonlights at an art gallery.

But seriously, fuck right off with this cold-shoulder, poly-blend, lazy bullshit.

[hellyeahrpmemes]

※ JENNA MARBLES SENTENCE STARTERS, PT. IX ※

here’s sentences from 10 more of jenna’s videos! feel free to change names/pronouns/zodiac signs/etc.! more jenna sentences

PANCAKE ART CHALLENGE

“I’m not very good at drawing things.”

“Yours won. Yours so won.”

“It looks like a feral cat.”

“You’re just pretending to be a chef.”

“I made your forehead in pancake form.”

“Don’t look at mine - don’t look at mine…!”

“She looks like a ghost of herself.”

“It looks like a tombstone walking a dog.”

“It looks like a can of silly string gone wrong.”

“That’s a bunny. You draw it every single time we’re at dinner and you find a crayon or a pen. That’s the one thing you know how to draw really, really well.”

“So it’s a flamethrower?”

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“I’m gonna put this on your bed tonight. On your pillow.”

“It’s an Ankylosaurus, duh.”

“Can you autograph my pancake?”

“I wonder if it tastes good.”

“It looks like a weird calculator.”

“If he can do it, we can do it, too.”

“In the end, we both lost.”

“It was a lot harder than it looks.”

CHILDHOOD STORIES

“There are some moths in my house, and I don’t really want to kill them, but they are driving me crazy. I swear to god, if they start chewing my clothes, it’s gonna be game over. I’m gonna burn this house down.”

“I have lost my mind a little bit.”

“Worship me, Pinterest.”

“I feel like I am now the queen of DIY.”

“We would just sit there, and maybe look out the window, and maybe talk to each other.”

“You really needed a friend, but I really liked to play with it alone.”

“What did you do? That looks so cool!”

“I forgot I had a rope, and I forgot this thing called friction happens, and I sawed it in half.”

“I didn’t say anything to my dad, because I knew that that would be certain death.”

“I am a really bad liar and I have a terrible poker face.”

“My brother wasn’t going to tattle on me, because he is not a snitch, and I appreciate that.”

“It was like top ten most angry moments I’ve ever seen my dad.”

“Shut up, my gerbil is not fat.”

“Dude, your gerbil is so fat.”

“It was the most disgusting thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

“Sometimes, if your mom can’t take care of you, she’s just going to eat you.”

“I took a pair of scissors, and I decided to give my cat a haircut.”

“Damn it, now the cat’s gonna get his head stuck in everything.”

“I’m fired, I quit, I’m fired.”

MY DOG CHASING A DRONE

“I got Julien a drone for his birthday.”

“He really just loves to chase it.”

“Why fight it when you can just work with it?”

“It really is completely hysterical.”

“This is what I want to watch on the Internet.”

“We love each other forever.”

“I would never do anything to put him in any sort of danger.”

“We work together to make fun things happen.”

“It’s just really cool and really amazing and I just wanted to share it with you.”

“You don’t even care, do you?”

UNPOPULAR OPINIONS

“Do you need a snack or anything? You good?”

“I think avocados are propaganda in Southern California.”

“You hate something as meaningless as an avocado, Jenna? Really?”

“If I was a ghost, I wouldn’t just help people when they needed me, I’d be there all the time.”

“What’re you doing? Cutting your nails? I’m gonna stand here and watch.”

“Are you ever truly alone? I say no.”

“Why am I turning? I hate this chair…!”

“I don’t think ghosts and/or spirits just limit their visitation hours to when you need them. I think they’re there all the time. Creeping on you.”

“I think parasailing is boring as fuck.”

“That looks intense, count me out.”

“It’s very boring. It’s not worth it.”

“Why are you so famous? It really bothers me to the core of my being.”

“I think almond butter tastes like blood. I think it’s gross, and it tastes like blood.”

“I think tonic water tastes like earwax.”

“I think that making a salad is way too much work for the end result.”

“I’m not really talented at hard manual labor, which I’m sure my grandparents would find as a character flaw.”

“I think Jenna is the best name ever. Sorry, all other names.”

“I would buy her a drink like the gentleman I am.”

“I have a landlord that says no, but I say otherwise.”

“Go check out the otters. You won’t be disappointed.”

“They’re literally just there to have a great time.”

“I mean, it’s cool to see you, man, but you seem sad.”

“I think curtains are way too expensive for what they are, and a waste of money.”

“I’d see that, like, four times in the theater.”

“I’m legitimately terrified of prescription drugs.”

“I don’t really care what anybody says. I mean, I do a little bit.”

“Think for yourself, use your own brain, it’s a fun thing to do.”

REVIEWING BAD APPS

“Guess what? This is life.”

“I think it’s funnier now that the song is two years old.”

“If I paid money for it, I’m angry about it.”

“This is the weirdest fucking app.”

“I think it’s genius. I think it’s great.”

“Does this not know that google exists?”

“Did that horse fall?”

“Is this porn? Is this porn? This feels porny.”

“This one makes me feel like I’m really there.”

“That’s pretty annoying.”

“It’s not the worst, but it’s also not not the worst.”

“One small tattoo for man, one giant leap backwards for mankind.”

“Oh my god, oh my god, that’s nightmare fuel.”

“It’s so stupid that it’s amazing.”

“Just that name is the funniest thing ever.”

“Oh, I hate this so fucking much.”

“Think of all the times you just needed a candle, but you don’t have one.”

“Whenever I find something really cool, I just tell Julien, and he never appreciates it, so I hope you appreciate it.”

GIRLS DAY

“It’s time to go.”

“This is the cutest shovel I’ve ever seen.”

“I got this on sale!”

“I feel crazy.”

JENNA’S RACHET FASHION BOUTIQUE

“I like to sew, even though I’m not very good at it. I just refuse to fail.”

“We used to have to take home economics, where you learn how to sew and cook and stuff, and, apparently, people don’t take that anymore.”

“I still am mediocre at it.”

“If shit ever went down at a zombie apocalypse, everyone’s gonna be butt-ass naked, and I’m gonna be over here, sewing, with electricity.”

“I’m just gonna try and sew myself a sick outfit.”

“I also don’t want to spend a lot of time doing this.”

“Fuck patterns, fuck all that shit, let’s just do it live.”

Everything that I sew is gonna be with navy blue and/or black thread, which, if you have a problem with, just go away now.”

“I’m gonna make a long maxi skirt, ‘cause those are overpriced.”

“I would do this drunk, but it seems really dangerous to sew drunk.”

“Something smells like burning.”

“It looks crooked, but you just pass it off as fashion.”

“Get your scissors, and cut whatever the fuck is bothering you the fuck out.”

“Backwards and forwards and backwards, it’s just like life.”

“The best way to learn is to just look at a shirt, and make it.”

“Just don’t even bother finishing anything.”

“Yes. Yes, cape, yes.”

“Somebody could have made something really nice out of this. Not me!”

“I’m literally wearing a tube of pajamas, and I love it.”

“When I was at the fabric store, I saw this, and just really couldn’t resist.”

“What lady going to a ball couldn’t fit this into her wardrobe?”

“A fun, exciting fabric to make a hat out of is denim.”

“Don’t laugh, it’s fashion!”

“If you saw this, you’d be like, that is couture.”

“I really should’ve just made my entire outfit out of this, but that’s for next time.”

“Looks great. I’m scared of you, but it looks good.”

“I feel like the outside matches the inside.”

“Yes, bitch, you fuck that outfit up.”

“Honestly, I’d wear this shirt. And this skirt.”

THINGS I WISH I COULD LIE ABOUT

“I’m also sorry. But not that sorry.”

“Most of it just stems from being terrified of authority. I’m scared of getting in trouble.”

“Whenever someone asks me for my phone number, I always give out my real phone number. I can never lie and give them a fake number.”

“I’m terrified of having that confrontation.”

“Yeah, I got it really wet. It’s soaking wet. Just fully submerged in water. It’s wet.”

“I just wish that I could lie, but I feel too bad, I have to tell the truth.”

“I could’ve saved myself a lot of money with just a couple lies.”

“Their dogs are not therapy dogs, and you can tell.”

“I know for a fact that, by saying yes to that question, I’m just gonna get a lecture for the next ten minutes.”

“I don’t need to hear the lecture. I know the lecture.”

“Eggplant? Ew! The fuck is wrong with — my god, no…!”

“I don’t need to violently argue with someone when they say they don’t like something.”

“I can never, ever, ever lie to a police officer or a cop, ever.”

“I wasn’t speeding that much, but I was definitely speeding.”

“I was listening to R. Kelly’s World’s Greatest, and it was just getting me so hyped up that I just, I went so fast, I didn’t realize how fast I was going.”

“He gave me a $300 speeding ticket.”

“That started the ‘do not play’ list in the car.”

“You’re singing with your eyes closed, which is not good for driving, at all.”

“I think this is a good look. I think we should make this a thing.”

“Some of you guys are fuckin lying.”

HOW I TALK TO PEOPLE AT PARTIES

“Oh my god, how’s it going? So good to see you!”

“Hey, thanks, I’m a catch.”

“It’s a conversation, we should listen.”

“I don’t wanna listen…”

“I’m gonna use my eyes and pretend I’m listening.”

“She just asked us a question — did you hear what she asked us?”

“So how’s, uh… how’s what’s his face?”

“I just don’t want her to tell the tree story again.”

“One time, I was climbing this tree in my backyard…”

“She can smell your fear, you know.”

“I can smell time. It’s 11:30.”

“I can rap. Quadruple threat.”

“Did you watch the baseball game the other night?”

“Are we drunk?”

“This is bad, we shouldn’t have said that, why did we say that?”

“Hey, we should get this pierced.”

“Do you feel like breaking something?”

“I really love you so much.”

“She’s already drunk ‘I love you’-ing.”

“At least she didn’t make any drunk plans yet.”

“We are not going to remember that. Not at all.”

“What do you think happens when you put a ton of lettuce into a woodchipper?”

“I fucking hate you guys. You guys are idiots.”

“My brain is a terrifying prison.”

WHAT’S IN MY MOUTH CHALLENGE

“Why are you laughing already? Stop laughing.”

“You put the heel of my boot in my mouth? What are you, insane?”

“This touches the ground?”

“I was mad, sorry.”

“No, this is not going to turn into you solving a Rubik’s cube.”

“Who makes appointments a year in advance? I do.”

“This is my inhaler, you asshole!”

“Did you just say scoff?”

“You sinus-blasted me?!”

“Do you have any idea the mental preparation you need to have before you take one of those!?”

“As soon as it hit my tongue, I knew I was fucked.”

“Open up, we are playing a game.”

“Julien, my mouth tastes like Christmas tree!”

“Oh my god, what the fuck is that? It’s wet…”

“Open up all the way.”

“You put yeast in my mouth. That was fucked up.”

“Wow… I hate you.”

[ladyaiyanna]

The Virtual World - The Scary Truth of that Lawless Tomorrow - A True Insight from Experience

I never quite bargained for writing out here as I found my level of comfort on Facebook until the day the Hackers came and turned my world upside down in hope to blame it on the Corona Virus aka Covid19.

While I am a person who takes things as it comes, I learned the truth of what hacking is and how they victimise a person in order to draw them in impoverished living and poverty and all for the crime of wanting to remain reclusive and aloof, comfortable with myself.

I was always pressured by many a loafer with their badge below the belt about the boons of being a beneficial friend devoid of other favours and I used to politely listen and decline as I was no stranger to working with people, men especially till 2am in the morning and trudging home after that to get ready for the next day at work starting around 8am.

Being the kind of job that I do, my interaction with people is limited to many on set with my personal time being just mine alone to spend with my One Above, family, life and dreams creating lyrical artwork based on everyday living and life’s expressions including emotions etc.

I never entered into agreement with anyone to provide them information and details of my living and let alone cringe myself with my life put on hold to such an extent that it has driven me into poverty living me impoverished. I made a choice in 2017-18 to tell one such person, I am returned back to the way I used to be as all that has been wasn’t ME as I dislike my anger and temper and the way I am becoming and they took it as I was a mediocre who was never fruitful in this world for anything else apart from talking to the selfish famed married them about my personal beliefs.

It was right then and there that I should have been cautious with this person who came to be the nemisis of my past marital agreement that still stands and what’s more the ill-treatment they created was way more greater and bigger than what has been within my marriage. I was never pushed and shoved this way by way of hurt, humiliation and pain beyond my mortal tolerance levels that I was forced to relive the pain and anger of their undue interference in my family life to the extent they took everything from me including my matrimony by way of sleeping with other who used that person to destroy my homefront including bring catastrophe and pain within to the extent I learned it is the way of life where nothing ever comes easily for me unless I shout, scream and abuse quite literally to get my way.

While I am never this way in my personal life, I have learned it is the only way I saw things happening until this hacking took place on the 30th of March 2020 and realised how ill-equipped I had become in my life and dreams with all my equipment broken or in repair as I couldn’t care less because my financial woes thanks to being jobless for about 15 months in the corporate world as Creative Work is considered to be a hobby in a country like New Zealand who had a row with me for putting in a GST Claim for my musical rendition shortly after it was released and was getting ready to venture into new possibilities of waking commericalisation of the same via short films and musical studio recordings. It never materialised as I fell ill from the shock and it took me nearly two years to recover only to be thrown into it again as these bullshitting idiots think all this is a needless waste of time rather than an income generator wherein they gaily listen to overseas music but abhor the local names because they are not as talented as the overseas one.

Wrong!!!! I learned to respect my fellow local artists whom I have seen struggle and cry within the acting and musical world because of the law of economics which defy the minimum wage and many an unwilling creative artist refusing to pay the price for quality enhancements and works for prolific acclaim.

In 2017-18, I was giving up being a recording artist because of the nonsense created by the IRD and my music producers and their label friends who humiliated me for being me because of certain indecencies I refused to partake with them whilst virtually complying to their musical request with me as I changed their building block material into a real musical rendition devoid of copywright issues as I created all material with the producers from scratch and got my copywright certificates from overseas which included endorsing my name as an artist which is also my stage name in the film world. None the less, I had friends, most certainly not the satanists from the Illuminati sect, converse with me, in the good old days when I could on Facebook, before this so to say friend made my life very unbearable in reality as well as online, to get back into the recording studio again and I did. It is what brought about my recording When Angels Cry with another producer in a style that I was quite fimiliarised with from my past rather than the turn of the millennium kind of tune.

It was where my troubles began as there was an affiliation to a group of people who sat around me at the workplace who got to know about this recording, which I had kept secret to segregate my creative life from the corporate world only to find somebody got a hold of my pre-released material and cried me at work to the extent, I lost my health and destroyed my job by way of a redundancy. I was never to work again the corporates but for the same hurt that plagued many an artist and producer around, the lack of recognition of local creative work which has fetched many an accolade in the international film industry and many notable works that I have personally partaken as a small time work of art creating features for them.

I love the world of creativity and have worked hard to build my name and reputation around and only to find these dreams shattered by one single mindless twit who began their insane lustful longing of wanting to be ME and pursing my family and life to the extent they posed as a lover to them too with other company and pursued me from within, hurt my family members including my child and drove me to the verge of bankruptcy since September till date with hardly any work coming in and no one willing to take heed with what is happening.

I have been working with the cops since July last year and things came to pass in December when my family broke away from me and didn’t talk right down till the 28th of March when they spoke for the first time. I was angered, hurt, wound and not to say humiliated to the extent I came to be abusive and correcting the negative feelings was never given to my child by me to the extent I am still mending that relationship as they drove my child not to talk with me since November last year.

I never came back to cry and whinge to the world, just came back to clarify the hurt and pain that I was put through by these people who brought similarities of the words and conversations from three of my family members including anger and humiliation to the extent it led me to believe that this was the underlying cause behind what had happened to my account as this person was a proficient hacker and made no silence about it although the name was withheld from me because I grew abusive with them.

While I am never going to clue much of my life again, it is the main reason why I took it to the cops who never quite took it as a cry for help and chose to condemn my asking the law for help to the extent I did give a hinting of what I was looking at because of the way I had been pursued by them to the police and nearly drove myself to the other side of it post that police conversation which refused to acknowledge there was an issue when I clued them I was logged off, there was no curiosity or willingness to pursue the case in a way I had seen in the month of July upon speaking to a police officer with an American accent who clued he was look in to see what could be done and rendered my account safe back then.

I have never felt so let down by New Zealand as a country who as an unmarried premier head who projects herself as God the mother of life without cluing her behind the scenes hinting the truth of what is happening around is all at her behest. I noted the silent threats from the past but I never quite brought myself to accept the negative truths of the bewilderment it held for me in the future, although I did keep away from bringing my true opinions and views out.

Now I am faced with this prospect of Wait Horse, I’ll give you Grass including the fact that I may need to use my social networking accounts as part of employment rather than social interaction, it hurts me beyond belief that these vultures believe their deluded carrion as they call it is waiting to clue a suspecting predator of a hot date that can be virtually captured on variations of likes and poetry and lifestyle and clothing to bring about an aspect of their paving a way of Continual Income that is not a hobby as Creative artwork is a hobby in this land with many an artist getting brought to payment below minimum pay after filling the fattened tax coffers that virtually implore large business to expand and expend smaller ones like myself as they have better monetary capacity.

I was insinuated and insulted about my bank balance, which no one knew of but my eyes and the virtual authorities of governance and on social networking too. I learned my way of life from all this and learned I had to live with this glass house syndrome as that is what the beautiful natural world of life in New Zealand brings to you as part of their social security procedure of keeping crime levels down while making law abiding people like myself think of social creativity from the other side of the law as suggested by the cops in their silent humility to justice of the law rather than the people they are trying to help.

While I am still playing the waiting game, with an hour and half call recording given to the cops with utmost sickening politeness which reached the end of the tether towards the end stemming a hang up because of the obstinate donkey on the side, I have actually come clean to the world saying I have given thought to the other side of the law thanks to the nonchalance of the cops who were quick to support previous criminals who drove me up the world back in the day to the point of alluding suicide and finding a ride in a squad car to this attitude from them showing they don’t quite care about life, love, family, livelihood etc. because for them social networking is all about Bumble, Tinder, screwing and being an absolute ass in the virtual world not in a business perspective or acumen to the extent that I feel so hurt, shattered and humiliated for being a certified eCommerce Programmer who is relearning programming to work on my own, a Sun Certified Java Programmer who when to be a Project Manager using ITIL and Infrastructure and Firewalls to Customer Management and other derivatives of it in the world of life to create a living.

With today’s lockdown being a proof that life is heading for a digital discourse and virtual reality kind of living, one can only dream of the haven we are creating for cybercrack artists of criminology who see this as a blossoming industry for impersonation, get easy peezy money without slogging and convert it into Bit Coin and speed away to a neighbouring land to create a dream come true living lifestyle without being ever caught for their crime.

It is no wonder the physical crime graphics are fading into cyberland tactics of livelihood as the cops don’t care as they don’t see no money being robbed in their eyes despite dropping them all the clues. Well I thank my stars I have a listening ear with an ardent hand to help another if I can on the correct side of the law but hate to think what a person who is less patient than me is put through the exact similar would do. probably gun them all down, like in the USA and then clue get a few criminal hackers and we will make a living like we did back in the day on the other side of the law.

Well that is my experience with a female New Zealand Cop for you who was too busy baring her teeth with the blaring sirens behind her to even pay attention to the quest of her livelihood which borders on creating security to the public. It didn’t help it was the 1st of April 2020 around time for the belly grub.

Not that they cared I was a former victim of domestic violence and that he worked within servers, networks too with an ex colleague who was documented for indecent assault by yours truly with experience in network and firewalls creation and removal for the telecommunication world of New Zealand. Well the complaint is made virtually as asked by them, made with the United States too and they don’t give a toss as the Right of Equality all in the name of the Lord prevails to the magnitude that lawlessness is just the parallel road to success given in encouragement by the NZ cops themselves as the right thing to do for they have no more time to care as they all film stars now, making COVID19 ads and chomping with mouthful of food giving advice to the world while crime rates around soar showing the change of priorities in everyday living.

So is it safe to say this is the world of Diplomatic Relationships (with the Prime Minister giving consent for backyard real marriages as part of social distancing as a Holy Saturday Gift of the Flesh making word around) using the flags of the Reds in Power, Blue in Game, The Greens and Greys still waving showing the Black, Red, White flag combo made it to the top with an unwed mother showing the thumbs down to law and justice as she is God the Mother of all Nature and life around in New Zealand saying High 5 it’s Beehive calling Level 4 to the rest of the Honey Suckle World around.

I want my Facebook account back, if you don’t have a Credible Cyber Team, point me in the direction to the people who can train me in the skill and I will learn it and become the Cry that others can benefit from without being hacked, broken and made to think of crime as a real prospect of law being given the shrug on shoulder as the sign of the new virtual tomorrow.

By Anisha Achankunju (C) Lady Aiyanna 14th April 2020

[livixbobbiex]

Harry Potter AU

So everyone’s going crazy over Harry Potter AU right now and I remembered the cross over fic thing I kind of started, so what better a time than now to post it?

To say that Yuuri Katsuki didn’t understand the significance of being sorted into Slytherin house would have been an… understatement to say the least.

You see, Yuuri’s family didn’t know anything much about wizarding culture to begin with, much less British wizarding culture. They’d been surprised as anyone when they, by all standards a totally average Japanese family living in a small seaside town, received a letter scripted in English with green ink, explaining that their youngest child had been invited to learn magic. Since that letter had arrived three days after Yuuri’s eleventh birthday, extensive research had been made.

Regardless of the effort, most of the information the Katsuki’s had originated from a short note attached to the average acceptance letter. It had explained that the great wizarding school of Hogwarts had decided to accept a greater number of international muggle-borns, considering regional wizarding schools such as Mahoutokoro didn’t accept them, and that since there was such a significant surge of potential, Yuuri had been invited.

Despite the fact that Yuuri himself had had almost a year to prepare himself, his English was mediocre at best, and reading long wizarding terms for too long hurt his brain. He was sure though that it had not been mentioned anywhere in his books, and he did read them again afterwards, that ‘Slytherin’ was regarded as the elitist quarter of Hogwarts.

He found that fact out within maybe ten minutes of his sorting, when met with almost angry looks from most of the long table.

A few weeks later, when he better understood the culture, he realised why exactly a foreign muggle-born being sorted into Slytherin (pretty quickly, he should add) was such an oddity. And the cherry on top of it all? Yuuri wasn’t even particularly talented at magic.

Green quickly became Yuuri’s least favourite colour.

Yuuri’s favourite colour, in actuality, was blue. He even used it as an excuse from time to time, when Phichit had to shake him out of his gaze. It slipped off his tongue with ease; ‘I just really like the colours of the Ravenclaw robes’. Yuuri’s ability to lie so fast and easily was one of the very few Slytherin qualities in himself he’d discovered so far. It wasn’t a complete lie, exactly. The combination of bronze and blue was a favourite of his, reminding him of the telescopes in the astronomy tower, or the reflection of the sun in the great lake.

Of course, he actually preferred a silver and blue combination that had little to do with the robes, and a lot more to do with Viktor Nikiforov.

Another of Yuuri’s Slytherin qualities was his obsession with unsolvable mysteries. And the older boy was just that; an enigma. Not that Yuuri was a stalker or anything, but he did tend to spend the majority of his obligatory time in the Slytherin dungeons reading articles about the Ravenclaw. Amongst the articles, his favourite was the one about Viktor’s first Quidditch match as the Russian seeker, aged just sixteen. Within the article, there was a photograph of Viktor catching the snitch, waving at the crowd from his signature golden broomstick. That particular article made its home under Yuuri’s bed.

Yuuri wished he’d been sorted into Ravenclaw.

Phichit wished Yuuri had been sorted into Hufflepuff.

“I just don’t get it,” he said, looking over his shoulder briefly as some older students snickered at them. “They’re all so Slytherin, and you’re so not.”

Perhaps if he hadn’t just failed to create his Patronus charm yet again, Yuuri would have chastised Phichit for using ‘Slytherin’ as a dirty word. Instead he resigned himself to ending up hanging around in the kitchen corridor yet again, a tradition after four years, listening to his best friend rant about the Frog Choir (which Yuuri point blank refused to join) and their most recent Muggle Studies essay.

Yuuri liked Muggle Studies. He supposed he probably had the advantage, being the only muggle-born in the class. Regardless, he found it interesting. Wizarding ideas of muggle life and the reality of it were quite different, though Yuuri wasn’t about the ruin the illusion for them with a mundane reality. Also, it was guaranteed to be a simple ‘O’ when he sat his exams next year.

He was used to their familiar routine by now. Phichit would keep him company for a while, before eventually disappearing into the Hufflepuff common room to spend time with his house friends, and Yuuri would walk back to the dungeons alone. It wasn’t as if Yuuri didn’t get along with the other Hufflepuffs exactly; Guang Hong, Leo, and Emil were nice enough, but Yuuri just didn’t quite fit in with their group. It was better than his options in his own house, he supposed.

If the colour blue hadn’t sealed his fate already, there was no doubt that it had once Yuuri caught the sight of it out of the corner of his eye. His head betrayed him and turned as he read the blue banner. Though he was edging on fifteen years old and had lived in Scotland for most of his recent history, English sometimes betrayed him. It didn’t help that the one and only Viktor Nikiforov was standing underneath said banner, celestial and perfect, smiling brightly as he talked to a Gryiffindor first year.

“Hey, you want to sign up for lessons?”

At that moment, Yuuri regained the ability to English, and saw the words ‘tutoring’ in bronze script. He swallowed. Of course Viktor Nikiforov had no idea who he was. He probably thought he was just some thick-skulled Slytherin, either who needed to study because their parents had cut off their galleons due to bad grades, or else someone who was going to pay him to write scrolls. Did Yuuri look that incapable? Was his own mediocrity that obvious to the outside world?

Losing his nerve to say a word, Yuuri attempted to hold his head high and turned away once more, not daring once to look back.

Through events beyond his control, Yuuri ended up waiting patiently outside the grand door of the Ravenclaw Tower. It had been at his Defence Against The Dark Arts professor’s insistence that he signed up. The whole thing was absolutely humiliating. Everybody else in the class could cast it just fine, marvelling at their ethereal patronus charms. Even the Gryffindors had begun laughing at him, though he suspected that was more out of boredom than the genuine disdain his own house held for him.

Yuuri’s throat constricted as Viktor Nikiforov himself wandered through the door, casually whistling to himself.

“Ah, Yuuri Katsuki right? I’m going to be your tutor!”

His smile was pure sunshine and Yuuri’s mouth flew open. Nonononononono. This couldn’t be happening. Out of every Ravenclaw in the entire school, he had Viktor. Viktor Nikiforov! The Viktor Nikiforov had agreed to give Yuuri an hour of his undivided time every week until Christmas. Yuuri felt both ridiculous and unworthy.

“Yuuri? Are you okay?”

Yuuri blinked. “Hai! I mean, y-yeah?”

Surprisingly, Viktor laughed to himself. “So Yuuri, what is it you need my-” his gaze pierced into Yuuri’s “…assistance in?”

His mouth was drier than that one time Phichit had found fire whiskey. “I-I, uhm-“

“Hmm, communication skills? I can do that.”

Great, just great, way to play it cool, Katsuki!

“No!” Yuuri immediately realised how rude he’d sounded, and found himself bowing out of habit. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Professor Okukuwa thinks I need help in spell work.”

Viktor’s porcelain fingers began to play with his long hair, twirling and twisting it around. “And do you need help, Yuuri?”

Yuuri looked down. “I’ve struggled to produce my patronus.”

“Oh!” The older boy’s eyes crinkled and his mouth broke out into a heart shaped smile. Yuuri lamented internally about how unfair it was that he was in the presence of such perfection. “That’s all?”

His heart sunk. “I know it’s stupid.”

Viktor’s beam remained firmly intact. “I was going to suggest the library, but that doesn’t sound like the best idea.” He paused. “I know!” Without missing a beat, he took hold of Yuuri’s wrist and dragged him down the many stairs that lead up to the Ravenclaw tower. Yuuri, who had literally just suffered in walking up the entire thing, felt his lungs burn with effort.

Still, Yuuri followed regardless, wordlessly behind Viktor as they reached the seventh floor. To a bystander, it may have even looked like they were holding hands.

(hey if anyone thinks I should continue this at some point hit me up)

(also I’m really into Slytherin!Yuuri and Ravenclaw!Viktor and think I have good grounds as to why I’d sort them that way)

[moirasfallout]

Abuse

I spent 7 years with the same man and never thought twice of what happened in my relationship. I was asked to give up friends, never talk to boys, no one in my family knew I was in a relationship and hardly anyone outside my family knew. I had to ask permission to go out, I couldn’t have social media accounts, I had a bedtime and a time I had to be up by. All my electronics (Computer, phone, ipad...) had monitoring programs that took screenshots and logged keystrokes, among other features. When I got permission to go out I had to at least audio record, and I had to prove that new friends I made were girls through either pictures or recordings I took in secret. I was 14 when I entered this relationship, so to me this was okay, he cared, this relationship was important to him and he wanted me to help protect it. These behaviours started when I “Cheated” on him when i was 15 by sending pictures to boys and talking to boys without his knowledge.

I knew my relationship wasn’t conventional, and that I wasn’t being treated fair but I honestly believed I loved him and that he was the only person that would ever love me.

We would fight, usually at least once every 2 weeks. It was always my fault, because I spent 5 minutes away from my computer and he wanted to know why I wasn’t on the screenshots, or I got caught in a lie I made to avoid him yelling at me (Like getting an 80 in school instead of a 70). Because I wasn’t a student in university getting 100′s I was not smart. That average meant stupid. Because my art wasn’t amazing, I was mediocre, not good enough to justify being proud of it. Because I’m not a piano prodigy I’m average and thats nothing to brag about. I was never good enough at anything.

I was also never pretty enough, I am 5′4. At the time I weighed 130, so I was a bit soft but I was by no means overweight. I was fat shamed, I’ve since lost over 10 pounds, but I was still told I had no muscle so I didn’t look good yet, I should work out, lose more weight, gain some muscle, so I could look like a model. I should wear makeup, straighten my hair. He didn’t like curly hair, my hair is very curly and poofy. I hate wearing makeup, but if I didn’t then obviously I didn’t love him because if I did I would do these things for him.

I had to apologize for everything, I couldn’t raise my voice or have any tone other than soft and understanding or else I was disrespecting him. Even if we were having a great couple weeks he would have a nightmare that i went off and cheated on him and he would spend the next couple days calling me a whore and making me beg for forgiveness because I didn’t do enough to make him feel comfortable in our relationship and avoid the nightmare. I justified all his behaviours to people who I did tell about him (Behind his back, he didn’t want anyone to know about us)

Around year 3-4 of our 7 year relationship I wasn’t allowed to cry anymore. Not unless I had something to truly cry about. All my tears and bad emotions were because I was childish and a spoiled brat and that I had nothing to ever be upset over. The only day I was allowed to be upset for the day I found out about my moms breast cancer, he understood... for about 2 hours then told me it wasn’t that bad and she’d be okay so i should cheer up. If I brought up how I felt after that, he just told me to stop and cheer up.

After that I would sometimes have panic attacks at night, and nights were i cried myself to sleep, it was the only moments where I was alone, and it was dark enough that the monitoring programs couldn’t tell I was crying since my eyes were closed it looked like i was sleeping.

I identify as an asexual, I have little interest in sex and feel minimal sexual attraction to anyone. I hate touching myself and see no point in masturbation. I had to touch myself everynight infront of him or a computer with a monitoring program to prove that I wasn’t going off and “Cheating” on him. He didn’t believe me when I brought up my disinterest in sex. I was suddenly changing my story in his eyes because he thought I wanted to get away with sneaking off and going to another man.

Then September 10th this year we broke up. I remember getting the message on my phone, that it was over, that we had a good thing and I ruined it. I cried at work that day, I remember every detail of that day since I got that text. We had spent the whole night before arguing, I was running off of no sleep. The reason it was my fault was I had made a friend at work who came over to my house, laid on my bed, she happened to be gay. I identify as bi-romantic, to him he thinks it means I am bi-sexual. Apparently in the rules, although I know he never specified it, gay females fall under the same category as boy friends. I was not allowed to have them.

This man had already made me give up my best friend of 7 years back when I was 17, now at 21 I had met another friend who I really enjoyed to talk to and it was the same situation. I said no. I said I had no intentions of bedding her and cheating on him, and that I shouldn’t be forced to get rid of her based on her sexual orientation. We fought all night. I refused to budge on my stance, that she was my friend and I wasn’t giving up another friend for him. He broke up with me when he lost having 100% control of me.

I’ll go through all the after effects of his gaslighting and abuse in another post, but I’m writing this because he came to me again yesterday, just under 2 and a half months after we broke up. I turned him down, I am now happily in another relationship, and he doesn’t understand how I could so quickly get over him. His apologies ranged from “We had such a good thing, we were so compatible together, don’t you remember all the good times?” to when I didn’t give in “You are evil. You are FUCKING CRAZY. You evil bitch. How can you be so cold? Don’t you see how sad I am? How much this hurts me? You were my family!?” I was always told no one would ever love me the way he did, and that i was lucky to have him. I believed him for so long.

I am writing this because I feel still feel the effects from our relationship. And I wanted to share my story. Emotional and verbal abuse is still abuse, it just has less visible bruises.

And by the way my relationship was long distance. I had numerous times in our relationship been told I was lucky he wasn’t there and he wishes I would get hit by a bus, or how he would push me down a flight of stairs for “Cheating” on him. I felt I couldn’t get away, and he lived half way across the world.

[kolblooded]

The Brothers Grim || Klaus and Kol

Storm King is a tense place to live, especially for the Alpha and his second in command. Loyalties are in question and intentions revealed. But not all is icy tones and cold shoulders between Niklaus and Kol. There is hope for them. And, perhaps, for the entire pack. Written with my favorite @violent-nobility

Kol loved his family. And by family he meant his pack. Most of these people he’d grown up with, he’d witnessed their love and successes and heartache. And, like all of them, he had watched in agony as their family had split in two. The worst kind of divorce he could ever imagine, his heart remained in two places, with two brothers. But this one… this one had needed him. Klaus had told Kol that he was wanted, needed, desired as a part of Storm King. He had made it seem like Kol was vital to the pack’s survival. Which made little sense, because Kol was no alpha, nor would he ever be. And that was fine.

The week had been long. There had been the near drowning, and freezing, of the girls, then the celebration. Nik had been on edge with members of their pack spending so much time over at Paradise. Elijah seemed to be replacing each of them one by one with rogue wolves, and, Kol was certain Klaus feared, one day he would just start taking back what had originally been his. But here was what Niklaus failed to realize. Kol didn’t rightfully belong to anybody. He was a member of a pack, yes, but by choice. He had chosen this brother, and had stood firm in that decision through the gut wrenching loss of his other brother. Elijah was gone. That limb, cut off from the rest of his body in a way that no prosthetic could ever replace.

The beginning had been a nightmare. Klaus had been on edge, cranky — more so than usual — and paranoid beyond belief. He’d told Kol to “just go to Paradise, then” on more than one occasion, and Kol thought that, somewhere deep in the darkness of his heart, Klaus believed that Kol would actually do it. But through all this, all Kol really knew was his own pain and heartbreak. He didn’t sleep, volunteered for more patrols than was perhaps healthy — mentally or physically — and he barely ate, much to Lucas’ chagrin. He knew the rest of the pack was hurting, he could feel it, but all he thought about was his own grief and pain.

Sitting up one night, staring at an empty fireplace, long past the point of being able to make out shapes in the shadows, his heart broke again. But this time it was not for himself, not for the way he remembered combatting Elijah in their training circle, or watching as he became suddenly more private about his life, but Kol remembered the times that Klaus had felt the most like an outsider, and Elijah had been there for him. He remembered Elijah carrying Nik after the latter had tumbled down a steep slope and ended up gashing his leg open. He remembered the way they had been brothers, years before Kol had ever arrived, and now they were supposed to pretend they were enemies.

Kol stood, barely noticing the lifting of a wolf’s head in the back of the room, someone who had wanted to keep him company without being invasive, and then made his way back to Nik’s room. It was small but neat. Not as organized and well tended to as Elijah’s would have been. There were art supplies stuffed in cups along the back of his desk. 

He was quiet as he opened and shut the door, having no doubt that he likely woke Niklaus in the process anyway, but still wanting to disturb him as little as possible, and then he crawled between his brother and the wall. Nik had lost his best friend with the split of the pack. And all Kol could hope as a second in command was to some day be a mediocre replacement. Something to numb a little bit of the pain. Kol loved his family — and by family, he meant his brother.

Klaus's room was just as cold and forgotten feeling as most of the lodge, but it was everything he wanted it to be -- or so he told himself. There was a mess of files and papers all over, the fallout of his rather poor first season as a manager -- reminders of his failures.

All of them.

They stacked up in silence and accused when ignored. Some failures reminded him through printed paper - complaints and bills and unanswered questions, handwritten instructions on how to do it all right that he hadn't been able to read because that handwriting was Elijah's. Some failures found their voice in other ways -- the reality of how few had come to Storm King. The reality that Elijah clearly found them all entirely too replaceable. They had never been important enough.

He hadn't been. Not to Elijah. Perhaps if he were Finn, things would have been different. Elijah worshipped Finn. The bastard. The coward. The quietly vicious one. Elijah had never seen Finn's faults as long as he was alive -- but he saw Klaus's.

All of them.

He didn't believe in Klaus. In Storm King. Most of them didn't. Storm King had to seem like an experiment doomed to fail -- but it wouldn't.

The freshest canvas was nearly complete -- darkness, firs, night, jagged edges and aggressive strokes that should have looked bold, but instead came out a lone, unanswered howl in the dead of winter. The smell of the drying paint made the room better. His. His.

This was all his. Elijah couldn't take it away. He wouldn't... but how long until he tries?

Klaus's mind was a dark place these days, darker than it had ever been in his life, and he refused to seek out comfort. Maybe that refusal made him forget that others could need it -- could want it. Whatever it was, when Kol entered the room Klaus assumed something was wrong. His eyes opened and followed every shadowy movement -- and when Kol squished himself into bed, he didn't understand at first. He wanted to demand what Kol thought he was doing, or to ask if he'd forgotten the way to his own room, to remind him that he wasn't Elijah, but he bit his tongue. For a moment, his thin body was hard and tense. Then, with a sigh, he turned and put his arm around Kol and pulled him close.

Kol had come. If Elijah had asked him to stay, Klaus was sure he would have stayed... but he was here. His brother. This one was his. Elijah could never, would never, take him away.

No one would.

He touched the cold tip of his nose to the back of Kol's warm neck and didn't say a word.

There was a taught blanket which settled over them, nestling them both into this bed of tension and loneliness. Kol realized in the absence of the brother who had been the guiding light for both Niklaus and Kol, neither of them had really thought to turn to the other for comfort and solace.

In silence he waited for Nik to tell him to get out, or to make some quip about how Kol must be lost, that this wasn't their brother's bed, and he certainly wasn't Elijah. But as much as Klaus wasn't Elijah for Kol, neither was Kol for Niklaus. He tried to push away feelings of inadequacy -- smother them beneath the pillows until the morning light -- and settle beside Klaus until they were both asleep. The arm around his waist surprised him, and the gentle touch of nose to his neck was as much a gesture of acceptance for them now as it ever was as wolves.

Kol wasn't looking for conversation, but still he turned to face Nik, and buried his face against his big brother's neck, arms folded in between them. "I love you, brother," was what he whispered, unsure if it was loud enough to be heard, even in the silent judgement of this freezing room.

Kol needed his brother, and he needed to be needed in return. They were all each other had, ultimately. And Kol would not turn his back on Niklaus, now or ever.

Klaus should say it back. He knew he should, but he couldn't bring himself to. He tucked his chin over Kol's head and gave a long, slow sigh. There were a great many things he should say... but he couldn't afford any of them. Not one. He couldn't let any of them, least of all Kol, see him bleed. They would turn from him.

He tightened his arm for a moment, then rested his hand at the small of Kol's back. "Then you are where you belong," he finally answered.

He wanted to tell Klaus that there had never been doubt that he was where he belonged. Or he wanted to ask, what, then, did it mean that he still loved Elijah? Or that he could never stop loving their brother.

But none of that would help Klaus, and that was why Kol was there. For Nik's comfort as much as his own. Perhaps more than his own. Because, as much as Kol loved Klaus, he had never been good at comforting.

Tonight they wouldn't be alone.

Kol slipped one of his arms beneath Klaus' so that he could trace lazy patters over his back with fingertips. He sighed heavily and wiggled just enough to find the perfect grooves in Klaus' body for Kol to fit along. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a quiet tune played on the piano, something deep and melancholy. Something suited for them both. It took a couple hours, but finally, Kol slept for the first time in days.

Klaus never slept long. He was up shortly after Kol fell asleep, although he himself had yielded much sooner. At first, he stayed where he was, letting Kol leech heat from him like all good brothers must, but eventually it was too much, he was too still.

He slid quietly and carefully from the bed and paced through the lodge, checking on everyone sleeping there. He went to the Ice Hut and stood outside, watching those sleeping within, but watching through the window.

When he returned, he went back to his room. This time, he sat in a chair -- the cheap, padded, ugly looking one from the office he never used -- and turned on a small lamp. Its light was warm, gold. The warmest thing he had.

An hour passed as he sat in silence, just looking at Kol, and then another passed far more quickly as his pencil brought life to a sheet of paper, the old sketchpad no one was ever permitted to look at. He drew Kol -- his muscular shoulders, his smooth back, the way the sheets were draped. It would very likely have been an almost sensual picture if not for how he captured Kol's face. The expression was one of weary, heartbroken peace. Youth pushed into maturity too soon. Pain pushed away for duty and love. Something innocent -- sweet. Kind.

Love.

When he finished, he set the book aside, leaving it open for once, and turned off the lamp before crawling back in bed with his brother.

The return of Klaus to bed was a welcome one, and Kol struggled to open his eyes. The lids were too heavy now that they'd felt and succumbed to the sweet pull of sleep's gravity. Still, Kol managed briefly, looking at Klaus in a way that he likely wouldn't remember once he'd woken for good.

The younger brother smiled softly, and stretched to place a chaste but loving kiss to his brother's jaw, then immediately relaxed back into sleep.

It was another hour and a half before Kol finally woke with any semblance of longevity. Klaus was still beside him, which was surprising. He thought he remembered an empty bed, but now he couldn't be sure. Kol laid there with deep circles under his eyes, and a dark stare that somehow held more warmth for this room and his brother than any blanket or lamp could provide. He watched Nik for as long as he could get away with, before Nik's eyes met Kol's. "Thank you," he whispered.

He frowned, the ghost of suspicion immediately coming into his eyes. Klaus never woke slowly, he never drifted or day-dreamed. There was no soft buffer between rest and reality, and so the unexpected never felt soft or out of focus, but was always in sharp relief -- always a potential road to threat or betrayal or loss. There was no reason for Kol to be thanking him, and so Klaus looked at him for a long, searching moment before he turned away, consciously making himself stretch and relax again with his back to Kol, as if none of it might matter.

"For what?"

The silent rebuke was more painful than Kol would have expected, figuring himself to be used to Klaus' mood swings by now. Still, thirty seconds ago he had had a brother. Now... he didn't know.

"For allowing me to sleep here. I know you like your privacy. But I... being near you was a comfort."

With great hesitation, and the knowledge that Klaus would likely pull away or send Kol away, he extended an arm to wrap around Klaus' waist, still seeking his warmth.

Instead, Klaus gripped him by the hand and pulled him closer still, then kept his own arm over Kol's, holding his brother's hand against his heart.

"You should come more often, then." He tried to sound kind about it, at least. There was always a bite to his words these days, but Klaus did his best to lessen it, to make it sound more like an invitation than an accusation.

Kol smiled and scooched as close as he could, arm wrapping tight, hand straightening so that he could wrap around Klaus' torso and feel not just his heart, but every breath, and he hid his face between Klaus' shoulders.

"I will," he promised, already making plans for this to be a regular thing from now on. Not just once in a while or once a week, but every chance he could.

"Lock me out, if you ever want me to stay away. I will... not be offended. But being... here, sharing your bed, it is the first comfort I've found."

"It won't be enough," Klaus replied, speaking without thinking for once. He regretted it, but he couldn't take the words back. Closing his eyes, he held his breath for a moment, then sighed. They could never heal the wound Elijah's rejection left, not with all the love in the world.

To be fair, Kol had expected worse. He expected some kind of lashing out about why Kol needed so much comfort -- a denial tactic that any of them were truly hurting after the split -- and for them to fight about life here.

But he, perhaps, did not hear Klaus' words the way they were intended. He heard the insistence that no matter how often he came, he wouldn't be enough to help Klaus. But Kol had known that from the beginning.

"I will do my best to be," he said quietly, swallowing the emotion that threatened to surface. He'd been failing his alpha lately, letting him suffer alone. But he couldn't do that anymore. The alpha deserved to be uplifted and adored. Loved. Wanted. Kol would try to give Klaus all of that, even if he didn't readily accept it.

"Can I make you breakfast this morning? Whenever you're ready to get up."

"I've been up," he muttered -- growled really -- and then shoved his face into the pillow. "Make yourself breakfast, just not yet." It might have helped if he hadn't been completely muffled, but the message was hopefully clear: Klaus was in no way willing to think about either of them leaving the bed yet, no matter how alert he was.

That made more sense, that Klaus had been up already. But that didn't answer his question. "Brother, I don't care if it's at noon, and the hours you've been awake are irrelevant. I would like to... make a meal for you. Sometime today."

He wanted to express his love in this way, only Kol didn't know how to say that. But the offer had been extended, and he understood the words more from his arm being pulled than from the way they'd fit together in a vague and gruff sentence. Bed, now. Other things, much later.

Though he was essentially being held in place just beyond the stretch of his comfort level with the way Klaus pulled on his arm, Kol didn't try to relax back, but instead ended up gently stroking over Klaus' chest while they laid there, perfectly content to not move for the whole day.

This was nice. Eventually, Klaus relaxed again, making it more comfortable for both of then, leaning back on Kol once more. For a few minutes then, he let go of his worries. He let himself relax as much as he knew, let himself trust his brother...

Until he remembered the thing they did not discuss, the thing that had been gnawing at him like a hungry worm seeking his heart, reminding him that treachery was everywhere -- in everyone.

"It was gallant of Todd to rescue... Zandra and Carol, wasn't it? But he hasn't told the story. Perhaps you can tell me. What happened when they fell in the river, Kol? You two were.. there.. for quite some time."

"Apparently the girls were playing on the ice, and Z found a weak spot. She tried to swim until Carol could get her out. But even then, they were both freezing. Jason found them and went and got Elijah. When he'd been gone too long from his light patrol, I went in search of him. I was told the story second hand. Elijah invited Todd back to Paradis so that he could be thanked with a warm meal for helping the girls, and so he could know that they were going to survive. That his efforts had, indeed, saved them. I didn't think it appropriate for him to go alone."

"Mm. And how was Carol?" He was staring straight at the ceiling, and his voice had gone quiet, papery-thin.

Kol's stomach twisted. Klaus was asking because he had to somehow already know. But it didn't mean anything. It didn't... Well, at least it didn't mean that Kol was any less loyal to Klaus as alpha, no matter who Kol had slept with.

"Her feet were injured from the time she spent on the ice. And she was exhausted." He closed his eyes, not wanting to be forced to say it.

Please, Nik. Let this one go.

The silence stretched out and out. Klaus grew tense, even his expression hardening in its slow, subtle way, before he finally spoke.

"It makes sense, I suppose. She was brought from Craters for us. If Finn hadn't been born so pathetic, father would have expected him to breed the bitch. Keep her at his side, all of that -- nonsense. But he was what he was. And then Elijah. Well. Elijah is hardly interested in continuing the Mikaelson line, is he? And I'm certainly not mounting someone from another pack. Of course, it must have seemed natural. She is essentially Mikaelson property. Still. It would be a shame, wouldn't it, if you let her claim any part of you? One might -- wonder -- at your loyalty. And hers."

More than Kol resented his brother for he way he spoke about a woman, was the way he spoke about this woman. This woman who loved them, who had broken herself for them. This woman who deserved fucking better than to be spoken of like she was a mutt better suited for the pound.

"If you have a question, or an accusation, Klaus, I would much rather you be direct. And by that, I mean keep your hostilities aimed at the one with whom you are truly cross. If I had fucked some random wolf across the country, you would not question me. I've stood beside you through all of this. And you can resent me all you like. But I am not leaving your side."

It was easier to focus on the question of his loyalty, something which he had no doubt in, rather than the fact that Nik was insinuating that because Carol couldn't have better, because she couldn't have one of the elder, alpha brothers, she had settled for the bottom of the line, just to get her hands on a Mikaelson. Kol hated the way that picked at every insecurity he had about himself. He hated the way it framed Carol. He hated that he couldn't defend her without looking like a traitor.

"Not a question, brother, merely a suggestion. It would be best, I'm sure you can see, if it doesn't happen again. As my right hand, you really ought to set a better example of pack loyalty. Sleeping with strange wolves has always been against pack law. You'd do well to remember that. Still. I'm pleased you found something to entertain yourself with while Todd played hero."

Why had he done this? It would have been easy to just enjoy a perfect morning, to take comfort in Kol's presence. Now, he was angry and hurt, the ice creeping back into his heart, and he suspected Kol felt the same. Their little brother had always been as passionate as Klaus -- Kol just tended to show it less.

"She is breeding stock though, you know. It's the entire point of the Craters arrangement. I still remember the day father explained it.

"She must have been... fourteen, I suppose. He called Carol, Elijah, Finn, and I into the Paradise office. We'd been damming up a fork of the river earlier -- Elijah and Carol and I had, Finn watched. You were in town with mother. Lovely spring day. We thought we were in trouble. Finn seemed delighted. And then father explained -- that she was not to touch anyone but Elijah or I, that Finn was eldest, but not allowed." His stomach clenched and he shifted, beginning to look and sound deeply unhappy as he forgot to measure his speech, lost in the memory. "Had to keep the family strong. She stopped being quite so friendly to anyone after that. Oh, it had all been innocent before, we'd all played as siblings, but for weeks, she wouldn't speak to Elijah or I. You thought we'd gotten in a fight, remember? She followed Finn around, I suppose he seemed safe after that. I'm not sure they spoke to each other. What is there, a decade between them?

"I was sure we'd lost our friend -- our sister. And then one day, I came outside and heard you two playing. For a moment, Kol, I was so pleased that you'd somehow brought her back -- and then I hated that while you had done it so easily, I knew I never would have succeeded." His expression changed, still tight, but turning now to one of pain. His cheek twitched and he fell silent, considering all of the things it was easier to understand as an adult than as a child. The bitterness he'd felt a moment ago was gone, and he hoped that Kol understood. It wasn't anger, not really -- it was jealousy. Jealousy that once again, Kol could find the friend he couldn't have. It had taken until now for Klaus to realize it, and he turned to look at Kol, searching his eyes for understanding, forgiveness, anything.

Kol listened in silence, horrified for both his brothers, but mostly for Carol. To be told at her early teenage years that she had been not just abandoned, but discarded by her family for a purpose such as this. To breed. She had been sold into, essentially, a form of prostitution. In exchange for what? An alliance? A shaky one at best, that had all but dissolved the moment their parents had died.

Lying there, in his brother's bed, feeling the warmth of his body and the juxtaposing, chilling bite of his voice, Kol grit his teeth. His nostrils flared, and he stared, as he was, down at the mattress. He wanted to scream at Niklaus. At Elijah. At their father. They had done a great misdeed by that woman. And then Nik... could he have been so petty? Could his jealousy really have led him to be so childish? But he hadn't been much more than that at the time. Seventeen. A child.

But Carol...

"Nik," Kol said quietly as he finally made himself look up to meet his brother's gaze. "You have to know that Father robbed you of the potential of not only your friendship with that woman, but of the possibility of more. If she hadn't been told that, if they had let it blossom... At fourteen she had to have been mortified. And doubtless when it became apparent that not only was I not an option for her breeding, but that I hadn't been told of the situation, I had to be the only remaining option for a friend. Klaus, I wasn't..." Kol sighed. "I was a last resort. That's it. That is... likely all I will ever be. And until... she and I had never... I am sorry, brother, that I made you doubt my loyalty to you. Ever."

"I wanted to call her this summer. It wouldn't have been so difficult to discover which fire camp she was at. But you see now why I could not ask -- I could not ask her to come with us. It would only have looked like I wanted to use her for father's purpose."

Klaus stood up. His pants were low on his narrow hips and he slid them off and started dressing in proper clothes, his back to Kol, trying to hide the pain in his eyes. "She should be here, but now you know why she isn't -- why we've -- denied you your friend. Again.

"I want to be happy for you. But happiness is... somewhat harder to come by these days." There. The truth, bluntly laid out, more openness than he usually gave anyone, ever.

Sliding from the warmth of the bed, Kol stood behind his brother after he had half dressed, and moved around to face him. He wrapped arms around Klaus' shoulders and held him in a hug whether it was wanted or not, returned or not.

"There is nothing to be happy for me for," he said softly. "She and I are not a couple. And if we were, that would be more cause for grief than for celebration. Not because she's not worth celebrating over. But with the packs as they are, a union like that would only lead to disaster. I am your brother. I am your second in command. And I am not leaving your side. That is the only union I need." Kol stepped back, and toward the door. "I should get ready for the day. Is there anything specific you need from me?"

Klaus had accepted the hug with a stubborn silence and stillness, but when Kol stepped away and he realized how cold it was without his brother, how quickly the ache returned, he reached out and grabbed Kol by the arm. Although he couldn't say the words, the question was there in his eyes: will you stay?

The hand on his arm stopped him instantly and Kol looked at it for a long moment before he looked up at Klaus. There was the hint of a weak smile before he nodded once. "As long as you want me, I'll be here."

"I want you," Klaus said, his voice too tight to hide that he was close to tears. He pulled Kol close and wrapped his arms around him in a desperate embrace. "I will always want you, brother."

Admitting truths was never pleasant for Klaus. Affection came so easily to others, who gave and took it so freely, but it always felt like a compromise to him. To love or to be loved, either felt like foolishness, weakness, the loss of oneself -- but slowly, he was beginning to learn that the pain of trusting no one might, in the end, be greater.

The one person he could truly trust was right here, and Klaus knew he'd nearly alienated his brother. How like him, to destroy anything beautiful that came to his hands.

"I... need. I need you. Always by my side. Always mine. Always here." He ran a hand over the back of Kol's head, messing his hair up further, and pressed his chin a bit too firmly into his shoulder.

Kol sucked in a tight breath through gritted teeth as Klaus unintentionally dug his chin into the muscle, and quickly reacted as he would have as a wolf, first turning suddenly to bite at Klaus's ear, which he quickly turned into a playful, but loving kiss.

"I'm here, Nik. And I'm not going anywhere. You know. Except on patrols. And to fight off that fucking Craters pack who keep scalping our food. Clearly the exchange they made for the daughter wasn't enough to keep them from being... dead."

Kol had found two, and had reported only the second. The first was allowed to believe to be a mistake. But not this. This was a blatant breech. "And brother? I know you're wary about Jason, and his loyalties. But he saved two lives that day. He deserves a little leniency."

"He's an electrician and a gunman -- our only, in both cases. However I feel about him," he straightened up, "we need him. Now. I believe you said something about burning the kitchen down?"

Kol chuckled and bumped his shoulder against his brother's. "Excuse you. I'm a damn good cook when I want to be. I'm just... too lazy to care much about it. But..." his brows pinched and he looked down. "But I would like to do that for you. First, however, I would like to put some clothes on. It's getting fucking cold out there."

"And deny us the pleasure of such a view?" He smirked at Kol -- then abruptly turned and tore the morning's drawing from the notebook and handed it to Kol. "A view I appreciated already, I suppose. Go. Get dressed. Then be prepared to make good on your promise, Chef."

Kol had smirked at the initial comment, but when he was handed the picture, he stared at it for a long second, recognizing the figure, of course, but struggling to understand that Klaus had drawn him.

He took a deep, steadying breath, and then placed a hand at the side of Klaus' face, pulling him in so that Kol could kiss his temple. "Thank you," he whispered, then left the room to go change.

In the privacy of his own room, Kol looked again at the drawing, swallowed the lump in his throat, and then tucked it in a box he kept with his most prized possessions. He dressed quickly, then made his way to the kitchen to meet Klaus.

Klaus was already there when Kol came in, as was Jason -- who looked like he regretted being there. He had gotten the coffee started, but had also hoped to avoid Klaus. Instead of that happening, Klaus had walked in and bitten him on the back of the neck.

"Ah, the chef has arrived." Klaus sounded merry, as if none of the quiet pain confessed minutes ago had happened. He hopped up on the counter and crossed one leg over the other.

"Lucss?" Jason rubbed sleepily at his face. "Eh. Kol. What do you want?"

"Now, now. Is that any way to speak to my brother, Todd?"

Jason wasn't used to the playful side of Klaus and he gave Kol a worried look.

Kol smirked and waved away the concern. "I told Nik I would make him breakfast this morning. Would you like some."

Smacking Klaus in the thigh with the back of his hand, Kol reached around him to grab a skillet off the rack and then moved to the fridge.

"My brother and I were talking about... the river incident. And... we are over covered tonight on patrols. If you would like a day off, you can have one. Though, I know too many of us don't know how to relax for a full night, so I won't force you to stay home."

Klaus shot Kol a brief, considering look, but accepted what he'd said and gave Jason a nod. "You've been struggling to find time for target practice, haven't you?"

Jason's eyes lit up. "I'd love time to go shooting. Thank you. And uh, yeah, breakfast would be awesome if you're not gonna put me in it as some kinda Kol trick..."

The smile that crossed Kol's lips was pure happiness. Playfulness. "Listen, mate, I'm not looking to poison my brother," he exclaimed as if it was all the explanation Jason needed as to why Kol wouldn't be cooking him today.

When the other wolf's back was turned, Kol put a hand on Klaus' arm and gave him a look of gratitude. Jason needed the boost in morale after having gone back to see the kids. He needed a night to be himself and to know that good deeds and thoughts of the pack and of life in general did not go ignored. He was valuable. And he needed a day off.

Kol pulled down the waffle iron and grabbed the bowl of eggs. There was a little bacon left to be had, so he pulled that out as well, now tossing it in the hot skillet, stepping back as it sizzled.

"Do you want anything in your waffles? Blueberries? We have a couple options."

"Bacon," both Klaus and Jason replied. They looked at each other, and Klaus added: "And blueberries."

Jason snorted. "No blueberries for me. I'm not tainting precious bacon with that shit."

"All the more for Kol and I, then."

Kol nodded, cooked the bacon, mixed it in the batter and then put it on the iron. Then he added the eggs to the bacon grease, knowing it would add to the flavor. The first plate was soon done and he handed it to Jason. Then he added blueberries to the batter and started Klaus' breakfast with the eggs cooking.

Breakfast only took a few more minutes and then they all had plates and warm syrup and orange juice or chocolate milk and he moved to a table. "See. No burning the house down. And no poison. Have a little more faith in me."

Jason was trying not to drool by the time Kol was done. He had to wait for both Kol and Klaus to start eating, and Klaus seemed to want to wait until Kol was ready. Once they were all sitting at the table and the brothers had dug in, Jason did as well.

"Fuuuuck.... okay. You can stay, Kol. This is good. What the.. mm." Jason often had a rude mouth, but he occupied it with food.

Klaus looked amused -- happily so. He met Kol's eyes and gave him a small nod. Thank you.

Kol had a little syrup dripped on his chin and he grinned in response, stealing a particularly crispy piece of bacon from Klaus' plate and plopping it in his mouth quickly, almost giggling as he did so.

Last night he had slept.

This morning he'd broken through a wall with his brother. He was happy today. He nodded at Klaus in return