#when i saw the leafs last season i was truly

[3416]

gonna see auston matthews for the first time in person in 5 days

[puckpocketed]

17/12/2023 Pittsburgh Penguins vs Toronto Maple Leafs

The Summer I Fell For Hockey - Sidney Crosby: Perspectives From a Stargazer

It’s the weekend after I decided that ice hockey would have my heart forever, I’ve copped the $22 NHL.tv subscription, and I’m waiting for the Seattle Kraken game at 2. In the meantime, I throw on the Penguins vs Leafs as I make breakfast and coffee. The brief Sportsnet pregame segment blares to life on the livestream feed as I measure out my beans on the scales and crack them open in my manual grinder. It’s a gorgeous Australian summer’s day; balmy warm sunshine and a chill wind to beckon me outside — but I’m at home and I’ve got my squeeze bottle of balsamic glaze for my eggs, and Sidney Crosby is settling in for the face-off.

Crosby is a name I knew long before I watched my very first hockey match. He’s one of those generational talents whose presence alters the landscape of the game, to the point — to borrow a phrase from the Tumblr blogosphere — he breaks containment. He’s more than a name: he’s the face of a franchise, and arguably the entire sport. The myth around this man has me remembering all the other greats that I’ve admired throughout the years. Faker. Roger Federer. In all cases I’ve caught them in the unexpected twilight of their careers, and the addition of Crosby makes it a hat trick. I say ‘twilight’ because they were all holding on to greatness when I first saw them, to the thing they love; ‘unexpected’ because, well, no one thought they’d be around for so long at that point in their careers. I always seem to come upon them in the in-between; while they’re still performing well but they’re not at their peak anymore; when the media and the fans and, seemingly, the entire world has turned a single, searing eye on them to ask, “Why are you still here? Isn’t this going to get embarrassing soon?”

Crosby’s got a lethal backhand shot, same as Federer. He’s a three-time champion looking for one more trophy to herald the swan song of his career, just like when I first began following Faker. If I was making this up, I couldn’t make the poetry of it rhyme as well as this reality. And the Pens aren’t my team the way the Kraken and the Sharks are — but Crosby’s got me by the throat the way all ageing stars do: I look at him with a mix of pity and contempt; respect and awe — and I’m bracing for the impact of when he goes supernova and retires. He’s got his weird routines; peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at the same time every game day, the exact same on-ice warmup, and a truly egregious playoffs beard. He’s obsessed with the game, his mind is still sharp and his heart still beats a hungry tattoo against his ribcage, roaring for one last season, one last shot at winning it all — even as his team morphs into something nearly unrecognisable and his body fails to keep up.

“Bias-wrecker” is the phraseology that K-pop fans use for people like Crosby. It means, in short, that though you have your favourites, there’s someone out there who’ll turn your head no matter what. Crosby’s story is what Oscar-bait biopics are made of. On a more personal level Crosby himself is the exact kind of star I’ve always watched: a bit past their prime, revered and reviled all at once, and so fucking interesting that you can’t help but look. So, I can’t not watch the Pens.

Last year when Faker got reverse swept by his old rival and schoolmate Deft, I laughed and cried — both for him and at him. It was close, and the burn of defeat was all the more bittersweet for it. Today, in some throwaway match in the middle of the NHL’s regular season, it’s not close at all. The Leafs notably have their best scorer benched due to illness, and just a few days ago the Pens won a marathon 12 round shootout against the Habs. Theoretically, with morale high and Auston Matthews MIA, this should at least be competitive. Instead, I sit in the Penguins’ liveblog tag and watch the despondent posts roll in as goal after goal is left unanswered.

The Pens power play, which hinges on the Malkin-Crosby battery, is underperforming by a country mile this season. I don’t need to know the stat to tell. In the microcosm of this singular game, the gaps are evident. If I was an unkind reporter, I’d probably say: they fumble passes to each other and seem unwilling to shoot when they do connect; they’re shaken each time they lose possession of the puck and sloppy to recover. But there’s more to this story than the 0-7 scoreline — it doesn’t exist in a vacuum, nothing ever does.

The game is as close to bloody as a game can get without any blood being drawn. I watch hit after hit, checks that verge on illegality, penalties that never get called. Memorably, there’s Crosby getting high sticked behind the goal, and the refs completely missing it. Within five minutes, gloves get dropped for the first brawl of the match. It isn’t the last. Multiple almost-incidents thicken the air, the buzz of unbroken violence a constant threat in the background.

A small tangent: this is how frustration manifests itself in ice hockey. I think that’s why I’m so drawn to it; why I fell so hard and fast after I watched my first fight. Tennis players break their rackets, gamers slam their desks, but hockey players try to punch each other’s lights out. There’s something so real and embodied about the controlled violence of it — the unspoken rules, the way refs will let them play out until someone hits the ice, the implicit finality of a fight being truly over once it’s over, the players accepting the results and consequences no matter what.

Ethically, I don’t believe in retributive justice; but artistically, aesthetically, and in the most literary sense? As I’ve said before in a shitpost: there’s a beauty and a narrative resonance to the way hockey players go about it. There’s honour in putting your body on the line for a teammate, spilling blood to demonstrate that you’ll defend your brothers on the ice, dropping gloves and taking the penalty to show the other team that you won’t tolerate disrespect and you see their wrongs even if the refs didn’t. The game buzzer sounds with the Pens getting shut out of the scoreboard, and though they aren’t my team I’m there with the fans who are live blogging the loss and my heart is breaking with them.

In esports, we have this running joke about international tournaments: we say “the script is really good this year” whenever something too good or too interesting to be real happens, something from right out of a movie plot, all-is-lost to rising action to climax to denouement. I hope, for the Penguins and for Crosby and Letang and Malkin — for the core that Crosby’s managed to take with him this far into the twilight of his career — that this is their all-is-lost moment. This year at Worlds, coming back from last year’s devastating loss and a half-year injury that kept him from playing, Faker won his fourth championship and hoisted the Summoner’s Cup one more time. Roger Federer retired long after his last Grand Slam win; but his last match was played right beside his beloved friend and rival Rafael Nadal — after years of being plagued with injuries, he went out on his own terms.

I don’t know enough about hockey yet to actually make a sound prediction on where the Pens will fall on the table at the end of all this, I don’t know if that day will ever come. But it’s been just over a week, and I’m all-in on this wondrous, brutal sport, and what I do know about is story arcs, and stargazing, and that real life sometimes rhymes.

All I can say is — I hope the script is good this year, I hope that Crosby gets his denouement.

[circuses-and-childhoodtrauma]

So, guess who finally sucked it up and watch the final two (three? The two parter was a whole thing) episodes of danger force and…yep. It’s currently 5am so I’ll probably have more thoughts to post on the whole plot and what it means for character progression and endings in my mind once I’ve actually processed and thought about it. This may include what you’d consider hot takes on characters but just know it’s from a place of love and I wouldn’t want them to change (unless, of course, I’m talking about things I wished went differently) because that’s the best part of the show. Long post ahead and Spoilers for that btw

I will say I procrastinated the hell out of it after hearing a spoiler that Drex has an anticlimactic death, a spoiler which turned out to only be half the truth. I can’t remember where I saw it, but I will say thank you to whoever unknowingly spoiled it because y’all should’ve seen the look on my face when that motherfucker came back from his unimpressive dusty death. Truly, pure joy. The finale itself was weirdly underwhelming and I guess on brand for the show but I thought maybe they’d put more heart into it; you can really tell the difference of investment put into danger force versus the finale of Henry danger which was, despite Henry and rays final words being a joke, far more touching than the awkward, we know it’s abrupt ending that we got for DF. It feels a little odd as a Henry danger fan since it’s first season to see it end in such a way that leaves me with. Nothing really emotionally.

I’ll start with my thoughts on Ray’s character. Keep in mind it’s been a good few months since I’ve seen any episodes besides these last few (“Ray Forgives” and “The Battle for Swellview”) so forgive me if I’m rusty on some things I’m due for a full rewatch and so point out any contradiction or disagreements you may have because his character is one of my favorites to discuss due to the extremely polarized view fans have on him. I will say this ending truly showcases the final decline of Ray’s character as the show accepts him for what he truly is (see one of his final lines in the last episode as the DF kids try to process his departure “classic me”). Ray, I never had high hopes for you and I truly enjoy watching such a despicable person be our main mentor of the show and without you I would definitely be down a few class essays. I wish we could’ve touched on Ray’s inner workings and childhood as well as how his relationship with Henry is involved in any of this? The first part of that sentence I’m fine without simply because part of Ray’s charm is being a pretty vain character that gathers most of his motivations through that vanity and pursuit of his own goals, but the latter half? I really feel like the show is pretty lackluster for that loose end of Henry’s involvement which I now doubt we will see in the movie. More on that later.

As for Ray, I think I’ve mentioned in the past that his behavior over the course of the later seasons on HD as well as the first two seasons of DF (which is all that was out at the time) could really only lead to three options for his character. Either 1. he has to become so bad that he is actively a villain in the show (I say villain not antagonist because Ray has already been the antagonist of a few episodes), 2. He fully turns over a new leaf and actively works back to the strong figure he was in Season One of HD (too little time for that, get him a therapist), or 3. He spirals into a character so objectively and morally grey that he just leaves. I honestly figured they’d go for something more of 2 (or at the very least give us some growth and then lead into the third; which, no. The MILES system plot line does not count and I’ll explain why), but it seems the show went right for the third option. His character in the ending was just so shallow and lacking empathy that I was actually shocked. And sure, the show tried to play it off by saying “oh well he saw the kids prove themselves in the big fight”, when Ray had very clearly already announced his retirement before this happened?

The whole ending with Credenza felt very “Love Muffin”-esque in the way that you only see one aspect of Ray’s character (which makes sense in Love Muffin because he only had one portion of his character thanks to the muffin) but it was certainly a…decision…for the final ending of not just danger force but the full run of the Henry danger force series as a whole being considering there was no pause between the finale of HD and the premiere of DF. There’s just so much more to his character that could’ve been used there, and it contradicts a lot of things he’s stood for even as late as the second season of DF. Even if you follow his decline of character, there are still other notable qualities that would be far better suited for a goodbye like that. Ray is known for his childishness and his immature attachment style, I don’t think I need to show proof or references if you’ve seen the show but I will if need be. Ray is also shown with outbursts of anger and things like that which would have been a bit of a dud considering he did that in the HD finale and we don’t want a redo because this is something different. I really think the show could’ve done something better than just…calm acceptance? I could even call it delusion but it just wasn’t enough for a final goodbye. Ray’s immaturity, his anxious need for his employees to love him, his relationship with Bose? I can’t really think of a worse way to end things aside from Ray leaving offscreen like they couldn’t pay Cooper his final check.

It seems Ray simply doesn’t want to be a mentor anymore. Like other things, he grew bored of it? He found something better? One can only guess. But it feels almost as though the show is painting a picture that Ray was just doing the whole mentoring sidekicks thing while he looked for a hot date. Which, if so, was his whole goal from the beginning? Because Ray spent all 8 seasons of show trying his luck with various women and he was quick to jump in their arms at any moment to leave his superhero life behind. But then again, he was quick to take any opportunity to leave his job. It’s not a good characterization of him to say that he was just “looking for love” the whole time and once he found it, he was done with the superhero schtick. It disregards his whole obsession with the city of Swellview loving him. It disregards his childish idealization of super heroism (buying capes, creating other super identities) , something that persisted even after he’d worked the job for decades. You could say he “grew up”? But then why the “classic me” line at the end and why have we seen no other growth in any areas? I have my own view and characterization of Ray that was not changed by the finale, so I am ignoring a large portion of it, something you’ll see as a trend with the other characters. But, this is just food for thought.

And obviously, since he’s truly the highlight of the show in my eyes and the light of my life who brightens my face and day every time he comes on screen, I was very happy to see Drex make his presence in the finale. Of course I knew about him being Buddy Fudgers real dad (see the timeline I made for it because the initial reveal in the trailers and clips had me absolutely reeling trying to keep my own interpretations of the show at least somewhat in line with whatever canon threw at me). The simple fact of him *being* buddy fudgers biological father is the only good and useful thing to come of it in my opinion. The actual details…Credenza being Drex’s ex-wife?? Drex apparently being an active part of Buddy’s life for an undisclosed amount of time before leaving and then apparently finding the time to come back into Buddy’s life and having SHARED CUSTODY for an also UNDISCLOSED amount of time?? The retcons in this specific plot line and Drex’s plot as a whole make my head hurt. I’m not even going to touch on the marriage thing until I’m good and ready, but, let’s just say I have ideas for that. As for everything else? Scrap it, honestly. The show itself pokes fun at the paradox of Drex’s character (always losing for…some reason…as he puts it) and I am happy to keep my own Drex and Ray and hell even Buddy Fudgers dolls away from the canon of it all and leave it there.

I liked that the show didn’t try to put on an elaborate backstory as to why Drex and Ray really hate each other (because, hey, whaddya know, we already got that in Drex’s DEBUT episode in 2016, but it’s not like the writers are aware of that…) and they just left it at “I don’t know why we’re mad” as well as leaving any backstories of their friendship in one little photograph. Don’t bother with the details, we know it’ll make our brains hurt anyway. Even though it’s a bit of a copout, I wouldn’t have wanted to see one of the only stable and serious relationships in the show be reduced to a joke like “oh Drex are my last poptart 15 odd years ago and we’ve been enemies ever since”. A good part of Drex and Ray’s rivalry that still held up even onto season 3 of DF was because so much of it was left in the dark, we can only speculate. They always have just enough motive and reasoning for you to be like “sure, that makes sense” (In Hour of Power when Ray explains that Drex’s violent tendencies led to them just “having it out” provides a father-son Batman type feud between them as Drex’s rage is obviously not dealt with in a proper way, as well as in the finale of Henry Danger on the blimp where Drex’s thought-to-be final words to Henry are “I was always the better sidekick” implying a clear jealousy at Ray’s favor towards Henry). It kept things neat and clean and dark enough for Drex to be a good bad guy. And he makes a pretty good show of being a good guy in his fifteen seconds of fame (which btw had me beaming and shaking my screen at his happy saunter ahh I just love him so much I can’t)

And, of course, I must discuss, my Roman Empire, my magnum opus, Ray and Drex’s relationship. Or rather their father and son. relationship. Let me preface by saying of course you may interpret Ray and Drex’s relationship however you want (father-son, brothers, I think some people ship them as lovers as well) and by extension Henry and Ray’s. However, if you’ve caught even one glimpse of this account you’d likely see that I consider them to be scorned father and son. Same goes for Henry, I know some people think of him and Ray like brothers and that’s fine, but in my mind they will always have a pseudo father son relationship. Now, I’ve talked about all three of them and their relationships with each other a lot on my account, so I won’t waste space reiterating it. I do want to talk about the show’s portrayal of Drex and Ray’s latest moments together. Now, right from the getgo Drex is very much coded as a scorned son (or ex lover if you listen to Hour of Power’s euphemisms which is so gross not for Drex but for the implications the show put on Henry). He calls Ray “old man” and “pops” and even says something similar to dad if you’re desperate like me “finally got the outfit to match your dad bod”(excuse my paraphrasing on that last one it’s 6am and I don’t want to go look for the exact quote). But by the latest episode Ray calls him brother? I preferred the ambiguity; it’s not the biggest issue in the world but it feels like another part of Drex that they were trying to retcon. I have much bigger plans for him though, always.

There seemed to be a lot of copout “for some reason”s in the last few plots of the season but honestly, I don’t want to compare the two finales because they’re separate things and also one continuation of each other, and also I don’t care for the discourse between which is better. I simply look at this finale for a three season show that took the time to invest us in its characters and I just feel disappointed. I didn’t have high hopes for the ending given what they were working with.

Some other thoughts that didn’t make it into my totally “neat” paragraphs:

Ray getting decapitated was the total best move for showing just how unhinged and detached Henry danger force is from the rest of Nickelodeon in terms of censoring and morals, and I absolutely loved it.

Buddy turning into Drex, only to turn back into himself but bigger a few minutes later was…a choice. Although I did find it funny that the show pointed out his return back to Buddy-likeness.

I’m not sure where any of this fits into the movie but considering it didn’t begin work until after season three was done, it might have some impact. I would love to see Henry’s reaction to all of this.

I’m not sure why they felt the need to hammer home Bose’s dad being gone? It felt like a bad punchline the third or fourth time around and I was very confused and annoyed when they mentioned it 3+ times per episode despite it not being a prominent thing in any prior seasons. Felt like maybe it was supposed to be lead up for a conclusion that didn’t happen, so it was. Odd.

I felt like Chapa really got her spotlight in those final episodes which is cool but we also didn’t really see anything come of it, especially when Mika was the unofficial leader of the group, it seemed like Chapa was stepping up to take that place with her initiative. I’ve always felt like Chapa would be the one hero to stay in Swellview after CM if they took the route of only one hero taking over. But then again, nothing came of it.

Mike’s visions also got pushed to the back which, they kind of always have been, although it was always an opening to introduce new powers for the others, nothing came of that either.

As for Mika, no notes really. Great job. Although it seemed like there was supposed to be a romance between her and Bose that just never came to fruition either for time or other changes, which left us with something very similar to the Henry and Charlotte run. Bose and Mika seemed to have more intentional moments so I had a little more hope for them considering they weren’t just a few circumstantial jokes and a rushed one-off episode like Charlotte and Henry. Would’ve like to see something happen there simply because of the clear intent for something to happen there, but, unfortunately it didn’t happen.

Credenza I haven’t got much to say about, except the whole cult thing being ingrained into her by her ancestors seems like a cool aspect to her character that might lend to some neat little details in other stories. Buddy was cool, I think his character was fine as well although I never understand why they love to do this trope where these superheroes with SUPER SECRET IDENTITIES apparently “can’t ever keep any secrets at all” but it’s a gag at the end of the day and Mika suffers from the same trope at times.

That’s all my thoughts for now, I know it’s a lot, and I’ll probably have more once I’ve had time to fully flesh things out in my mind. I would love to use this for a chance to write new stuff, but unfortunately my laptop melted, so that’s that. Feel free to discuss your thoughts on any of this! Thanks for reading if you got this far I know it’s jumbled

[ladyvictory22]

(Fall into Temptation) III: Jealousy

Like adulterers in the forbidden garden, their souls slither among the buds of temptation. Jealousy, like venomous snakes, coils around their love, whispering sins on every fallen leaf. Can they redeem themselves in the aridity of their own Eden, or are they destined to be eternal exiles from celestial peace?

In their little bubble, they had created a small domestic life that they enjoyed. Their weekend meetings were not just for pleasure; even if the moment was right or they truly desired it, they would yield to their desires. Other times, they simply slept, talked, cuddled – a moment used solely to forget the reality they lived in and enter their own world. It was like... feeling as if they had been together for many years, at least that's how they felt.

One thing Toto had noticed in their domestic bubble was Christian's ease in falling asleep, especially on him. He knew that Christian relaxed enough, and sometimes in the middle of a conversation, the younger one would slowly drift into sleep. On other occasions, Toto would run his hand down Christian's neck, applying pressure at certain points where Christian quickly relaxed.

They were in that position now. Christian slept or tried to sleep on him, in Toto's room in the hotel where Mercedes was staying. In the last two races, they couldn't be together, especially during Christian's birthday week because... their wives would be there.

So, both of them had silently clung to each other. They were going to be separated for a long time, especially after the season ends; the winter break was another matter they had been avoiding, but that time was looming over them.

To ran his hand on Christian's back, gently moving up and down when he felt the younger one stir. He got up gently with slightly tired eyes. He had spent the last half-hour trying to sleep, but thoughts were bothering him.

"What's wrong?" Toto asked.

Christian looked at him and sighed. "Nothing."

"Am I doing something wrong?" Toto asked, sounding concerned.

"No... it's just that... I can't sleep," he said softly.

"Then I'm doing something wrong," Toto said, running a hand through his hair.

"It's not that... it's just that I'm thinking about... the winter break approaching," he said, avoiding Toto's gaze.

Toto smiled gently. "Chris..." he approached and kissed his cheek. "We'll figure this out, don't worry."

"But we haven't talked about this. We've been apart for a week... but three months?" Christian said.

"We'll figure it out. Maybe we can find some time outside of our business commitments," Toto suggested.

That was another pending topic of conversation. In all the months they had been in this affair, they hadn't seen each other outside of their work moments. Christian was afraid of doing something like that, afraid of being discovered. So, he stayed silent because, in the end, it seemed like the only solution.

"Christian, that's another issue we've been avoiding, and you know it," Toto emphasized. "We'll be careful, maybe once a month."

Although they knew that once wasn't enough, even if they managed to escape for a whole day, it wouldn't be sufficient. They barely tried to get enough with the times they saw each other during the Grand Prix weekends.

"It's the only solution, I suppose," Christian whispered.

"Yes, but we'll discuss it later. Look at your eyes," Toto said sweetly. "You look tired, darling."

"I am," said Christian, trying not to blush.

They had recently started using affectionate terms between them, occasionally. They were afraid of getting used to it, but when Toto spoke to him that way, Christian melted.

They looked at each other, smiled, and Toto leaned in to unite their lips, the sound of a sweet kiss resonating in the room.

"Come on, let's go to sleep," Toto said.

They settled in more comfortably. They had left the room dimly lit, but they turned off the lights entirely, and darkness enveloped them.

Not long after, they were asleep, in the same position, Christian on top of Toto, hiding his face in his neck.

~~

There are many topics they are avoiding, gradually accumulating in a to-do list that they don't want to touch.

Lately, both have been experiencing conflicting emotions. Christian becomes desperate at the thought of being away from Toto for too long. It's not because he can't be away from him for an extended period, but rather, it's about who Toto will be with during those days.

Christian reproaches himself for those thoughts and discomfort, not wanting to have them, not wanting to be possessive with Toto.

Because... until they decide what step to take, exclusivity is forbidden. Christian has fantasized a lot about the "what if." In his mind, he has created different scenarios, knowing each other when they were teenagers or when Christian was just starting in TP, and he always asks himself, "Why didn't fate bring us together earlier? Why do we have to live through this?"

Toto, on his part, has noticed the same sensations, well, since that time when they were distant and Toto felt so possessive, and he still feels that way. He knows he can't mark Christian the way he wants. He lets Christian do it, lets him scratch his back as much as he wants, mark him if he wants. If only he could do everything he wants—bite him, leave hickeys.

But Toto controls his strength and knows it would be unleashed if he did it once, although something deep down can tell him that it might happen soon.

~~

Jealousy at the beginning is sweet, playful games that end in a pleasant and flirtatious outcome.

The first time it happened, Toto sensed a different scent on Christian, and he knew perfectly well that it was the scent of a woman. Christian's wife had been accompanying him a few days before to celebrate the upcoming Grand Prix, but she had to leave due to some commitments, so the weekend plans had changed for both of them.

Christian was so excited that after dropping his wife off at the car that would take her to the airport, he went straight to the hotel where Toto was staying. He bit his lower lip with a smile, hadn't told Toto yet, and wanted to surprise him. They had made plans to spend time together before his wife decided to join him, so they had exchanged room numbers, as they always did, just in case they had the opportunity.

When Toto opened the door to his room, Christian smiled at him with excitement.

"There's been a change of plans," he said, smiling.

Toto sighed, sounding relieved, and smiled faintly.

Then Christian entered the room and pounced on Toto, hugging him tightly. When Toto wanted to bury his face in his neck, he felt that scent, inhaling the perfume that was subtly perceptible, a trace of jasmine and sandalwood, like an echo of her presence.

And then, jealousy took over his feelings as he inhaled that perfume that didn't bear his name. The mix of emotions enveloped him, the reminder that Christian is not entirely his invaded him.

Toto stepped back, and Christian looked at him with confusion.

"What's wrong?" Christian said. "Aren't you happy that I'm here?"

"Where were you before coming here?" Toto asked.

Christian was surprised by the question. "I escorted her to the car to go to the airport and then came straight here," he replied.

Toto clenched his teeth, imagining a sweet farewell, and his mind began to reach its limit.

"What's happening?" Christian insisted, noticing Toto's gaze.

"Her scent..." Toto whispered. "I can smell her perfume on you."

Christian smiled, noticing how much Toto was controlling himself. Getting jealous over just a scent would feel silly, but it's Toto, and he continues to surprise Christian, and above all, he loves it.

Christian placed a hand on Toto's abdomen, using his thumb to circle gently. They locked eyes.

Then Christian separated from him and lowered Toto's gaze, searching through his belongings. He found his perfume, and when he returned, he took Toto's hand, sat him on the bed, and then settled in his lap, placing his perfume in his hand.

"Drench me in your scent then," Christian challenged. "Remove that scent from me."

There were many moments when Christian let himself go and stopped thinking for a moment; those were the moments where Toto, and only Toto, existed in his mind.

So there he was in Toto's lap, captivated by the man's jealousy and with a strong desire for him to claim what is his, and Toto doesn't lag behind.

With delicacy, he let the aromatic drops caress his wrists. With movements full of tenderness and connected gazes, Toto slid his hands over Christian's skin, ran his fingers, and made small circles.

Christian sighed at the touch, stretched his head, exposing his neck more. Shortly after, Toto approached, and with his eyes closed, he inhaled the scent. The other perfume had disappeared; now, Christian once again had his mark, his scent, stating that he belongs to him.

There's nothing Christian likes more than seeing Toto so hungry, his eyes turning dark, like a wolf about to catch its prey, and Christian is offering himself on a silver platter.

Christian let out a small laugh and caressed Toto's face. "I already smell like you, don't I?"

Toto just nodded, and when he tried to get closer to capture Christian's lips, he was stopped as Christian covered the Austrian's mouth.

"Jealous," he whispered, smiling, and then moved his hand away.

"So are you," Toto replied.

"Maybe, but I'm not so possessive," Christian said, his hands now on Toto's abdomen, starting to unbutton each button.

"You like it when I am," he said, sighing as he felt Christian's hands move up and down his body.

The shirt descended, revealing his back and abdomen.

"I do like it, yes," Christian affirmed, and this time, he joined his lips with Toto's.

A slow but intense kiss, tongues playing with each other, a small bite on a lip. Christian began a trail of kisses along Toto's neck, gently biting his collarbone, descending down his chest. Toto's breathing became heavy, enjoying the lips marking his skin.

Christian's hands traveled to Toto's belt and slowly unfastened it. Then he stood up from the bed and slid to the floor, kneeling in front of Toto.

In his years as a Team Principal, not even as rivals for a decade, Christian would have imagined being on his knees in front of him, looking up at him larger than life, and him returning the gaze with hunger and surprise.

Christian just smiled and winked, knowing that Toto wants him, and he's there to give it to him. He could already feel it half-hard between his pants; the visual image delighted him. How much Toto would give to have Christian like this every day if he could.

Christian started with gentle licks, working his way to the base, keeping his mouth there for a while. Toto's body felt electricity for a moment; he threw his head back in a sigh. And Christian continued his work, moving up and down slowly. Toto's hand traveled to the other's head, stroking his hair as his breathing became labored. They were just starting with everything they wanted to do, and they knew it was going to be a long time.

Jealousy at the beginning tends to be playful, showing desire and possession as a display of affection, indicating that they only want each other in their bubble, not allowing anyone else to enter.

They demonstrated it by increasing their flirtation, discussing it superficially because, for the time being, they could control it, diverting their thoughts for a while.

And yet, they didn't know how long it would last.

Later, when both were satisfied, they lay on the bed facing down. Christian had his hand in Toto's wet hair, his fingers playing among the strands, while Toto had his hand on the other's mouth, his thumb slowly caressing the reddish lip.

"Satisfied?" Christian whispered with a smile.

"With you, I'm never satisfied; I always want more, darling," Toto replied.

"I'm glad to hear that; I feel the same way," he leaned in for one last kiss, amid soft smiles and looks of longing.

~~

As long as it was like this, both would be comfortable with the situation. However, disagreements wouldn't take long to arise, one of the reasons why Christian was nervous about the winter break. He remembered what happened during the summer break just a few months ago.

The inevitable moment when jealousy intensifies began to approach.

They could say they had mentally prepared themselves to be apart from each other for a long time, and Christian believed he could endure it. They had scheduled a day to call and talk, to hear each other's voices.

They had exchanged messages, yes, but due to their commitments, they couldn't do it frequently.

Anxiety became frequent. Christian could suddenly be nervous with just one thought crossing his mind, wanting to know what Toto was doing, and more importantly... with whom. It was corrupting him.

So, the eagerly awaited day for their call had arrived. Christian had decided to lock himself in his office for more privacy. To distract himself, he had started to get ahead on work for when they returned to the factory.

Half an hour passed, an hour... no call, no message. Anxiety returned, a fleeting thought of calling crossed his mind. Maybe Toto was waiting for his call?

He hesitated a bit, unsure. Who knows what he could be doing... he could send a message, but no, it had to be a call.

Christian made up his mind, called. The phone rang once, twice, three times... nothing. It was nighttime, and Christian's thoughts couldn't help but delve into what Toto might be doing. When he checked his social media, the icing on the cake was seeing her recent posts, uploaded just a few hours ago. He felt sick for a moment, a shiver ran through his body, and he felt a knot.

Then he remembered he couldn't get angry like that. They didn't have the right to claim who they touched when they weren't together. In reality, at least for Christian, he had stopped touching that person for a while. And when he did, he couldn't help but feel strange, as if what he was doing wasn't right, when it should be the other way around.

His head hurt, amid so many thoughts and his struggle to push them away. He closed his eyes and let the tears flow.

Days later, the call came. He was in his living room, trying to watch TV when the phone rang. His wife asked who it was, and he quickly lied about something work-related. When he went to his office, he placed the phone on the table and let it ring, not answering.

Another call, no response. Christian didn't know how long he could endure without answering, just staring at his name on the screen.

He felt a lump in his throat. He had tried to dispel his anxiety for days but hadn't been able to.

One last call, and this time, he decided to answer, but probably not in the way Toto expected to hear his voice.

"What do you think you're doing? I'm with my family now," he said, trying to sound upset.

"Excuse me, but I owed you a call... I just wanted..."

"No, don't say anything. You were probably too busy to give me time," he said, and it sounded like a complaint.

"Let me explain..."

"You don't have to explain anything. We had a day, that day has passed, and now you come and talk to me when I'm busy."

"But you answered, so we could talk as we agreed."

"I don't feel like talking, and respect my time because I respected what we had said," he continued. "But who knows what you were doing."

"What are you implying?" Toto asked, sounding annoyed on the other end. "Do you think I didn't respond because I was doing something else?"

"Who knows what you can do one night with..."

"Christian..." Toto said.

"I don't know. I'm not going to blame you for anything, but again, respect my time," Christian said.

"Darling, it's not what you think."

"Whatever," he said and hung up.

He felt a stab in his heart, feeling bad because he didn't feel entitled. Toto wasn't entirely his, and Christian wasn't entirely Toto's.

But Christian felt like he was giving himself completely. He hadn't noticed when the tears were flowing down his cheeks. He left his phone on the desk and listened to it ring, another call, and Christian focused on looking at the sky.

With the sound of a call and then a few messages, he looked at the sky through the window, asking the sky why it was so hard to love someone.

Stormy days followed. Christian immersed himself again in not eating or eating very little. Thoughts were tormenting him, and he slept more than he could.

He felt unstable, unable to believe how difficult it was to be in love—a torture when you're in a prison, unable to touch or have the precious freedom in your hands.

On the other hand, Toto hadn't called back, and that only killed him even more. Although he told himself that he was stupid to think that Toto would talk to him all the time.

They had argued—or well, there had been complaints about Christian's jealousy, and Toto knew how Christian reacted when he let his thoughts take over. That worried him. It was something Christian dealt with—what's right and what's wrong. Toto had decided to give him his time, fearing that the younger one would feel bad.

It's not that Toto thinks it's right to be jealous, but he understands Christian. He, too, has had torturous days this summer, trying to get it out of his mind that the person he wants is not with him.

If only Christian knew the days Toto had dedicated to him, looking at the moon, wishing that he could be the one by his side.

The race that marked the return from the summer break was in Austria, a bittersweet cocktail for Christian. He was angry with that tall man, like a tree, and, on top of that, the return race was Red Bull's home race, but also that man's home race.

It was inevitable that he would seek him out in the paddock, because that's what he did.

There were a few knocks on the door of his office in the motorhome, until he let him in.

"Hello..." he said cautiously.

"Hello," Christian replied, trying not to look at him, focusing on his documents.

There was a moment of silence until Toto decided to break it.

"So, are you going to ignore me, or can we talk?" he said, trying to be patient.

Christian sighed, closed his eyes, and with another sigh, he looked at Toto.

"What do you need?" he said softly but with a very serious look.

"To talk, that's what I need, but not with the team principal. Please, just give me Christian for a moment," he demanded.

"I'm here, can't you see me?"

"I see you, but you have the same behavior when you get angry in a press conference and don't want to see anyone."

"Toto, enough. I have a lot to do; it's Red Bull's home race..." he said sounding exhausted, and he was. The last week before this weekend had been torturous. He knew this moment would come, and Christian sank into anxiety.

"Have you even slept? Have you eaten?" Toto asked.

"You're not interested in that," he said defensively.

"I'm interested, I'm as interested as the day I couldn't call you"

"We've closed this topic. Leave it there."

"Christian..."

"Seriously, Toto, just leave it there," he said decisively, getting up to look for other papers, not wanting to see him.

He couldn't believe that even when Toto had come to find him, his jealousy was still there. Mentally, he cursed himself because he didn't insist on calling him, but there he was, the bastard was there, claiming that he was being ignored, when he had been doing who knows what during the other days of the summer.

Toto sighed, and he didn't care about anything else. He approached Christian and took him by the arm.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Christian said, annoyed, trying to break free.

Toto put his hand on Christian's neck to hold him and brought their lips together.

"Toto!" Christian resisted the other's lips.

He didn't say anything and sought his lips again, pressing them, and Christian tried to resist the kiss, feeling Toto's tongue trying to enter his mouth. But he didn't resist for long until the longing and the repressed desire to feel those lips for a long time invaded him.

When they separated with a thin line of saliva connecting them, breathless from the lack of air, Christian's eyes moistened. He wanted to stand firm against his complaint, but he couldn't anymore.

"I missed you," Toto whispered.

Christian looked away, trying not to cry. Toto hid his face in his neck. "I didn't call you that day because I had an impromptu dinner with some friends. I was trying to distance myself when I saw your call, but it wasn't allowed. Then, my son approached, and he wanted to spend time with me."

Christian opened his eyes in surprise and pulled away. Toto continued.

"I wasn't doing anything, I promise," Toto said, pressing his forehead against Christian's.

"You don't have to say that," Christian said with a slightly choked voice. "I was wrong... I..."

"Stop... don't torment yourself," Toto silenced him. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry," said Christian.

"I'm sorry," Toto said, looking gently at Christian, and shortly after, they kissed again and embraced.

"I missed you..." Christian finally said.

---

They knew it was difficult not to have these jealousies with the nature of their relationship. They had been apart for a long time, but over time, they started talking about things. They tried to be honest, and Toto made sure that Christian didn't stay silent because he had started doing that.

In these two weeks when they would be separated due to the presence of their wives, Toto had struggled with the fact that Christian would be accompanied. In his mind, he could have organized a nice dinner on a quiet night, but they couldn't.

In that case, he prepared a gift, an elegant box lined with velvet, containing the treasure that Toto had carefully selected for Christian. The box, adorned with silver details (a subtle sign of the giver) and a gracefully twirled red silk ribbon, was a prelude to the jewel that awaited inside.

As he uncovered it, the light revealed a meticulously designed watch, whose pulsating beat marked the time. The dial, adorned with a design reminiscent of the curves of a race track, shone with timeless elegance.

However, the truly exceptional part lay on the back of the watch. There, engraved with surgical precision, was the dual declaration that encapsulated the complexity of their connection: "I Hate You and I Love You." The finely crafted letters stood out in contrast, like the paradoxes that wove the very fabric of their relationship.

The watch, more than a simple measure of time, stood as a silent witness to their intertwined emotions.

Christian was delighted; he smiled like a fool throughout the rest of the day. As he adjusted the strap around Christian's wrist, the watch became a tangible symbol of their unique connection. When he saw Toto walking in the paddock before the free practices, he gave a subtle wink accompanied by a smile.

For the moment, everything was going well. Even Christian felt that he was handling it better than it seemed. The watch had been something he had loved. Now, he had to think about giving something special to Toto since his birthday was also approaching.

Christian doesn't know how, but on Toto's birthday, he managed to slip away, and when he saw Toto approaching his motorhome, he first made sure the man was alone, then ran behind him and hugged him.

Toto let out a laugh.

"You said we couldn't see each other," Toto said, smiling as he glanced at the watch Christian was wearing.

"I had to thank you for the gift," said Christian, letting Toto turn around.

"Maybe we can't do anything more special, but I wanted you to know that I always think of you," he said, taking Toto by the waist.

And then they merged into a kiss, the only one they could share for this time, or so they thought until they ended up cuddled inside the motorhome. They knew they were taking a risk, but they wanted to be like that, alone for a while.

So, in their Garden of Eden, everything seemed calm. It felt like it was always spring, even though it turned to fall for a while, it always returned to spring.

However, the fear that winter might come still persisted—a winter that would last for a few months. Christian feared letting himself be carried away by his thoughts again.

Fear can take over when a love of shadows is in the air, when you fear that anything could break your idyll, when you fear that everything could be uncovered.

The inevitable winter break arrived, along with a series of events that Christian feared.

A couple of weeks had passed, things were generally going well; they talked from time to time, and if there were any complaints, they resolved them.

But some events were approaching, along with encounters that would be difficult to digest. Christian was going to be awarded for his career in motorsports, a gala would take place, and Toto would be present.

This time, he would accompany his wife, as she would present awards. You never really know how fate works in others.

But fate decided that Toto would be sitting at the table in front, and Christian at the back, right in his line of sight. Torturous, Christian closed his eyes and inhaled, trying to calm down. His wife was by his side, proud of the award Christian would receive, taking photos and enthusiastically talking about the topic.

But Christian couldn't play along; he felt that at any moment, he would be told to shut up, and not in a nice way. His self-control and patience were being put to the test. Why today? Precisely today?

He took it as a divine sign—enjoying the sin but at the same time, remembering the reality. Christian looked at his watch, the watch Toto had given him, and he felt... bad.

Not even a watch could make him feel special because he remembered that on his hand was a ring that didn't connect him to Toto, but to someone else. The person who wore the ring that committed her was right in his line of sight.

Talking to him, smiling with him, and Christian just watched, becoming more anxious. Sometimes he wanted to connect his gaze with hers.

"Turn around," he thought, "look for me," although he regretted it shortly after.

On the other hand, Toto knew that this could be a problem. He wanted to look for Christian, but when he wanted to turn around, he saw Christian talking to his wife.

So Toto decided not to look, he already felt uncomfortable, and this would only make it worse. So there they were, both knowing they were close but divided by a barrier of reality.

This is how it felt to be outside their garden, outside their bubble, the reality check of having to pretend they have cordiality and that their relationship is only professional.

Toto went on stage to present the new award category, his wife by his side, and Christian couldn't stand to look at it.

Complicit glances, smiles, everything was overwhelming for him. He felt so displaced that he thought he would cry at any moment.

Then he stood up, headed to the bathroom, and it was empty. He stopped at the sink, feeling his hands trembling, the vivid memory of what he had just seen while Toto was on stage hurt, it was a thorn in his side.

He closed his eyes, counted to 10, tried deep breaths, and didn't calm down.

He wanted to hold back the tears; he shouldn't cry. They haven't given him his award, and he can't go up looking upset to receive it.

But he couldn't, not when everything he had seen that night crossed his mind again.

"Why can't it be different?" he whispered in tears. "Why can't it be us?"

Many things crossed his mind—fantasies of being the one with Toto, of showing off his partner at the gala. All the things he wanted to do outside their bubble. But the thoughts turned darker the more he pondered.

"No, you don't deserve happiness," a thought whispered. "That's what you're going to destroy," it reproached.

Christian closed his eyes, trying to silence his mind.

"What if you surrendered, but he didn't?" the thought whispered again. "This is the consequence not only of your sin but also of how you treated him in the past," the thought continued. "Have you already forgotten what you said years ago in Qatar?"

And Christian couldn't take it anymore. In his tears, he whispered, "I apologized... I apologized to him."

What if this was the consequence of being a sinner? The constant reminder of what you can't have even if you want it.

The memory that you can only have it in privacy, in the darkness of a room, in the sheets, but all in secret, without anyone knowing.

He splashed water on his face, took a deep breath, and despite the thoughts, he returned. When he sat back at the table, his wife asked him what was wrong. He quickly denied that something was happening and focused on his phone.

At the other table, Toto had already come down from the stage, and for a moment, he allowed himself to look at Christian. He was looking at his phone, and Toto could see he was wearing the watch.

He smiled softly, at least he was wearing something of his, but that smile changed when he saw Christian talking to his wife, and she was touching his arm... placing her hand on his watch.

Toto didn't like that; his expression turned darker.

"Take your hand off there," he thought.

However, everything escalated when the woman's hand moved up to Christian's face. Toto decided not to look anymore and not to turn again for the rest of the night.

When Christian received his award, he felt the tension passing by that table; he knew Toto would see him, follow his steps, but with what little was left of his professional demeanor, he decided to ignore the presence of the other for his own good.

In his eyes, a distant weariness could be seen, the eyes of a person who has just cried—Toto was one of those people. He noticed Christian's gaze.

Later that night, during the ongoing reception, Toto managed to take him by the arm and lead him to a secluded place.

"Are you okay?" Toto said. "You didn't look well during the speech."

"I am," said Christian, but he felt... distant. "Don't worry; I'm just very tired."

"Have you rested?" Toto asked. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I am," he said again. "Excuse me; I have to go back. We can't be like this for too long, remember?" He said and walked away.

Toto felt the distance; he saw him moving away and getting lost among the people, leaving him with words on his lips.

The distance would persist for the following events—the premiere of a movie, both invited, both attending with their wives. Christian recognized him, as always, one of the tallest people in the room. Of course, he felt a pang when he saw them, holding hands, smiling at others.

And the questions returned, "Why? Why didn't we meet earlier? What if it were us?"

The worst part is when, in front of you, that person is looking at their official partner, the one everyone knows as their partner, looking affectionately at each other, and you feel like the world is crumbling around you.

Then doubt emerges, guilt appears—should we really continue with what we have?

The night goes on; Christian is the one in the spotlight now, and that gives him a glimmer of relief. At least he feels like he could enjoy the movie.

The garden is now in winter, feeling the distance between them, spring has yet to appear, and it feels like it doesn't want to peek out.

Toto, who is a few seats away, sees him and imagines being there by his side. Maybe they could hold hands since they are in the dark, he thinks.

His wife snaps him out of his trance when she talks to him about something related to the movie. When he turns back, Christian has his wife on his shoulder again, and he thinks about the perfume... the damned perfume.

For some reason, Christian feels strange in that gesture, in the way he's positioned with her—it's the way he is sometimes with Toto. Still, he senses Toto's gaze on him and feels nervous.

This time, he doesn't feel the jealousy to be playful; it feels more bitter, more distant, more... like winter.

Christian doesn't know, but suddenly his wife commented on something, he smiled, and she playfully kissed him on the cheek, although she later pointed out that she had stained him with lipstick.

Dazed and feeling strangely embarrassed, he got up and went to the bathroom to clean up.

Toto, who was at a distance, witnessed everything. It seemed like time froze at that moment, and a knot formed in his throat.

It seemed like destiny wanted them to reflect on what they're doing, on what they have to decide until this progresses further.

When he saw Christian come out, he waited for a moment before coming out as well. He found Christian in the bathroom, cleaning up.

"Hello..." Christian said when he saw him in the mirror.

"Hello," said Toto.

Toto approached and noticed that Christian had wet towels there; he took one and wiped the other's cheek, running the towel over his beard until there was no trace of that lipstick. If you ask, yes, he felt the perfume, but he cared more about removing that stain. Christian just looked on, and when Toto finished, they stared at each other for a while.

And to finish it off, Toto took his face and kissed him. Christian was getting carried away, but he remembered where they were, so he pulled away.

"We... we could be seen," he whispered.

Toto nodded but, when Christian turned to grab the small pack of wet towels, he hugged him from behind.

"Toto," he warned.

"Look at us," Toto said, and with his face, he directed Christian's gaze to the mirror.

And they looked at each other, like a postcard, like a couple's photo. Toto rested his chin on the shorter one's shoulder and winked; Christian smiled gently.

"We look good, don't we?" Toto said.

"Yes," said Christian, smiling at the image reflected in the mirror.

"These days are torturous, believe me," he whispered. "I want to see you, have you all to myself for a whole day."

"I... I don't know... you know it scares me," Christian responded.

"Just think about it, a getaway just for us, without work in the middle," he said, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Tell me you'll think about it and let me know."

"Alright," Christian conceded.

And another kiss emerged as a farewell – a slow, tender kiss accompanied by looks of longing.

Both exited the bathroom at different times.

Christian thought about it for a few days and decided that maybe it would be a good idea. Wouldn't it be? Meeting to dissipate the anxiety that afflicted them and spending some days together.

The idea was discarded when an article was published accusing Toto and his wife of a conflict of interest in their work. There was a great uproar on the internet; everyone was talking about it.

Christian called Toto.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"In theory, yes, but... well, there are people who aren't okay," Toto said cautiously.

Christian understood. "That article... only someone trying to create chaos would write it," Christian said.

"I know," Toto said. "For now, I'll see what I can do; she doesn't deserve this."

Something touched Christian beneath those words. No, Toto wasn't referring to them, but it could be taken in both ways.

Something Christian knew about Toto was that he always spoke well of people he cared about. It's undoubtedly something he struggled to differentiate, especially with the nature of the relationship he has with him.

When Toto talks about her, and in this case, with genuine concern, Christian knows that despite their relationship, affection for that person won't disappear – just like his own affection for his wife.

But it's challenging to live in that moment, especially when they talk about it and set aside their relationship.

However, in those same days, as a way to help, Christian spoke with the other Team Principals, communicating that they should all disassociate because no one had made such an accusation. He gathered the courage to highlight Toto's qualities and, biting his tongue a bit, spoke of her qualities.

So that day, everyone communicated simultaneously, releasing the new statement – all the teams in a form of support.

Shortly afterward, Christian received a call.

"I appreciate it," Toto said as the first words Christian heard. "Fred told me you campaigned in the shadows to defend me."

"Well, I... it was the least I could do... you don't deserve... well, neither of you deserves that," Christian said.

"I know how hard you try not to let your thoughts take over... thank you, my love," he whispered on the call.

Christian gave a gentle smile.

"That's what we're here for, to support each other," he said.

"Yes, I'm grateful for this support," Toto said. "We'll see each other, my love, I haven't forgotten... we have a date to keep."

~~

Christmas was tough. Christian believes he has endured everything because his children give him the energy to do so. They haven't spoken since that call, and obviously, Christian is getting desperate. He saw Susie's statements, and she hasn't posted again.

He's trying to be patient and not be anxious as he was in the summer.

"Don't think, don't think," he tells himself.

Three weeks pass, even Christmas and New Year.

During that time, there were a few messages, "I'm traveling, but I promise to see you on New Year's Eve."

The winter felt even darker then. Christian tried to control his thoughts, but it's so difficult when visual images come, scenarios he doesn't want to see. Anxiety appears from time to time, scaring him, making him desperately try to distract himself.

There were days when he cried because he no longer wanted to think. His thoughts screamed that Toto was just using him, other times that he deserved it.

There were days when he simply stared at the sky and wished for the new year to come quickly.

Christmas and New Year passed, and he sent kisses into the air and the sky, hoping the breeze would carry them to Toto.

There had been no messages. A part of him believed he had grown accustomed to it (he hadn't).

When he had returned to work at the factory, there were still no messages or calls. However, Toto's birthday was approaching.

Christian had a shirt made in a soft blue tone, as that color suited Toto perfectly. It was embroidered with Toto's initials and on one of the sleeves, "Te Odio y Te quiero" (I Hate You and I Love You).

He was still deciding whether to send it or wait to give it in person. This time, he felt a bit more prepared to see whatever appeared on social media.

And so it happened. He saw a photo posted by Toto's wife, a shiver ran through him, and he couldn't stop thinking about the way Toto looked at her in that image.

But he decided to silence his mind, telling himself that a photo wouldn't tell him anything, that all he had to do was talk.

So he decided to ignore everything for the day.

A few days later, he received a call while he was at the factory in Milton Keynes.

"Hello," Christian said with a small smile.

"Hello, Mr. Horner... tell me, would you like to go out today?" Toto's deep voice sounded.

"Really?" Christian said with a laugh.

"How willing are you to go out?" Toto said.

"What do you have in mind?" Christian said, thinking it was all a joke.

"The anxiety of wanting to see you," he replied softly. "Now tell me, can you leave the company today? Sneak out?"

Christian hesitated for a moment, but excitement invaded him. It had been so long since they had seen each other; they were going to take a risk.

"Yes, I can," he replied.

"Good, I'll pick you up in half an hour," Toto said.

"Don't you think it would be risky... you..." Christian said.

"I'm not coming in a Mercedes, for your safety, love," he replied.

Later, ironically, a Ford arrived a bit far from the entrance. Christian said he had a meeting elsewhere and would take his car until the next day or later.

"What kind of joke is this?" he said, referring to the car.

"I thought you'd like me to bring you in a Ford," Toto said with a laugh. "You know, it sponsors your team."

"Do you really own a Ford?" Christian said.

"God, no, but at least I made the gesture," Toto said.

"Bastard," Christian said, laughing.

"I missed you," Toto said, leaving a small kiss that deepened.

Toto then took them to an apartment, a private condominium that was only half an hour away.

"This place..." Christian said, thinking it might be a home for Toto and his wife.

"It's an apartment I own," Toto revealed. "Sometimes I come here... usually when I argue with..."

"Oh... so there are no things of..."

"No, just mine," Toto said.

He approached and took Christian's hands.

"I know we need to talk," Toto said.

And after a long time, they allowed themselves to talk. Christian poured out everything his thoughts were telling him until he started to cry.

Toto apologized for provoking such thoughts in Christian, for indirectly hurting him. Even though Christian insisted he was okay, it wasn't enough for Toto. They needed to clarify everything, to build their trust.

Then they agreed that there needed to be changes, that they should talk when discomfort arose, when something bothered them, even if it seemed silly.

Anyone would think that due to the lack of tact, they wouldn't be able to keep their hands off each other. However, they were mature individuals, old enough to talk first before going further.

They did just that. Christian admitted his jealousy, his distancing at times, his fear of reaching out to Toto. Toto did the same, admitting that he had wanted to reach out but remembered Christian and the last time during the summer break.

Some time later, they were in bed, cuddled up and had been talking a lot. Although they weren't doing much more, the way they were together was enough.

Toto looked at the watch he gave to Christian, observed how it looked on Christian's wrist – it looked good.

Christian then looked at him, and they smiled, followed by a kiss.

"I missed you, I love you," said Christian.

They hadn't used that term yet, and Toto smiled satisfactorily.

"I missed you too, I love you," he whispered.

They began kissing again, this time feeling that they had somehow overcome another step. Under different circumstances, Christian might have been more nervous, but this time, he genuinely missed the other's embrace.

The kisses intensified with their breaths. At the moment of surrendering after so much time, desire emerged, and along with a sweet confession, they had to seal their love.

Subsequently, brief dates began to emerge, outings and getaways.

Christian was happier now, feeling that taking risks was okay. He even started occasionally wearing Toto's shirts.

Spring arrived in the garden, butterflies returned to play among the flowers, while they enjoyed the flourishing of their adventure.

But some storms had to happen because there was a secret that had to be discovered sooner or later.

~~~~

I want to thank @silvereds for some inspiration for some scenes in this chapter ♡

[ownedbythescribe]

Kaedehara Kazuha | Not For You

ıllı Synopsis: Letting go of what you think is the best thing of your life can be hard. But, fate has something in store for you. A better future you would not even expect.

ıllı Genre: Angst, Comfort

ıllı Notes: Gender Neutral Reader

ıllı A/N: Just a short story before I take a break. It’s a bit of self-indulgent too. Sometimes, loving somebody can hurt, but we have to take a deep breath and look past that pain.

Autumn, the season when the leaves turn from verdant green to alluring shades of crimson red and vermillion. They languidly fall to the ground as the wind gets a bit chiller, pricking at anyone’s sensitive skin. Breathing in frigid air feels like drinking mint juice, a cool sensation harrows through the chest. It may be nice to some but for others.

Glancing up, you reached your hand to take the fallen maple leaf. It was a shame that so many goodbyes seemed to happen when autumn came, whether between family, friends, or lovers.

“And maybe, it’s time for me to say mine as well.” You muttered, watching the figures not far from you frolic by the sea. Both their eyes shone with adoration and happiness, feelings that he would never reciprocate. Not when he had already found the one he wished to be with for the rest of his life.

You stared at the maple leaf in your hand and thought about the subtle changes in your relationship. It was vague when it started, but eventually, you drifted apart from each other. Hazily remembering their first encounter, you suspected that it must have been love at first sight.

Your friend sent you a letter that the Yae Publishing House accepted her as a new writer. You recalled being ecstatic about it because that would mean she would be moving to Inazuma. When she arrived, you toured her around, introducing her to locals and prominent people in the country. It only took one smile for her to pierce the heart of Kamisato Ayato.

“Delighted to meet you, Miss. I hope you enjoy your stay in Inazuma. Should you require assistance, please don’t hesitate to inquire Thoma about it.” He offered. It was pretty strange for Ayato to proffer help to strangers. You thought that he was just being kind.

Each week, you saw them meet up with each other. There were even rumors that the Yashiro Commissioner fancied the new writer as they would be seen dining together and enjoying their private time. It pained your heart to know the man you loved for years fell for a woman he had recently met. All your efforts to remember his favorite food, place, and gifts were thrown out the window.

In the end, Ayato officially asked her to become his lover. The news circulated around Inazuma. Many were devastated that the elegant and attractive Kamisato Head was already taken. Some sent envious looks their way, but his periwinkle eyes were only set on your friend’s. You were forgotten to the sides. Like a toy he had grown out of.

“If I become selfish and tell you my feelings, I will be forever hated. So, I will try to let go. But can I truly let go?” You uttered to the wind. You wanted to be angry, yell at him that you loved him for years, and ask him why he could not look at you. But his eyes said it all. He had a gleam in them that said, ‘Ah, she’s the one. I mustn’t let her go’.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and one by one, they fell like rain on a stormy night. Your chest felt tight at the ache. As he departed from your grasp, he also took with him a part of you who dedicated their selves to a man of his standing.

A shaky sigh left your lips as you let go of the maple leaf and his last gift in your hand. You watched the water carry it away, far from your sight. Suddenly, a handkerchief appeared in front of you. You looked up to see a man with platinum blond hair, a red streak on the side, and soft crimson eyes. A kind smile was etched on his face. He reminded you of maple trees, not just because of his outfit but because of his aura. He sat by your side and asked.

“Tears do not suit you, Milady, but if I may, why do you weep?” He was gentle with his words. You dabbed your face with his handkerchief and ruefully answered.

“I just let go of what I thought was the best thing in my life. How can I be all right?” There was a light deride in your tone in the end, one you did not mean. He understood where the hostility was coming from.

“Fate must have led you somewhere else. To someone better, one who completes the emptiness in your heart. Fate is fickle, but its intricacy is beautiful.” He retorted.

You were silenced. It was as if the heartache was washed away by Kazuha's alacrity and confidence. It felt like he had been with fate for years. He understood the reason why somebody’s life was weaved the way it was. His flowery words mended the fissure of your heart. Taking in a deep breath, you turned to him.

“You may be right, but it still hurt. I’m not sure how long I will heal, but I know I can try and be happy for them. Thank you, dear stranger.” You smiled. His crimson eyes creased in delight.

“Kazuha. Kaedehara Kazuha is my name, Milady.” Kazuha replied. You stood up and gave him your name. He was happy to learn your name but more to see that your heart felt at ease. No more turbulent storms were raging in you. The wind whispered that the emotions in you were clouds of acceptance and rays of hope.

“If I may be so bold, do you wish to take a stroll with me through the Chinju Forest, (Y/N)? The bakedanukis might be out for their tricks, but the place is a beauty.” He invited. There were thousands of words dancing in his eyes that you were drawn to. You took his hand and reflected the smile on his lips.

“I’ll take you on that offer.” You grinned. The wind blew between you two, and you found yourself looking forward to meeting him again after this day. Be it in your dreams or by the same beach he found you.

This meeting was a small bud waiting to blossom. Whether it was love or simply friendship, only time could tell. There was no need to rush as the scars of previous affection and longing remained fresh. If anything else, this made you realize that there was a suitable time and person for everything.

Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!

[orqheuss]

The sun does not weep for Icarus PART 2

(Ominis Gaunt/Sebastian Sallow/GN!Reader ANGST) Can be read as platonic, implied Ominis/Anne and Sebastian

Parts: 1 2 3 4

Summary:

His body shook like a leaf on a fall morning, desperately holding on to any semblance of security and promise of life. But, the cold touch of death did not feel sympathy— not for the leaf, not for the tree, and not for the boy who had just lost everything. *** Mere days after receiving the news of Sebastian's demise, Ominis gets a chilling letter from Anne that changes the course of his life entirely, as well as brings a new possibility to the fate of their doomed friend.

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: suicide, suicide idealization, death, panic attacks, mentions of murder A brief synopsis of this chapter will be posted at the beginning of chapter 3 for those who do not feel comfortable reading. Your mental health is important!

AN: I’m moving all of my fics over from Ao3 to make them more accessible! These are my fics.

Chapter 2: I Am Not There, I Do Not Sleep

My Dearest Ominis,

I appreciate you checking in on me, it was most definitely something that I can tell we both needed. I apologize for the brevity of the visit, the pain seems to come quickly as of recent, and takes inordinately longer to leave. Time seems to move slower these days— they blend into one another like the cusp of seasons, or like rain falling into a pond. I did not truly know the meaning of the word lonely til this moment of my life. “Lonely.” It is such a full word. It carries so much with it, so much misery. So much despair. Each new sunrise brings it to my doorstep, brimming with sorrows and unhappy memories. Maybe that is why they call it “being alone.” To be lonely and to be alone; one cannot exist without the other. What a terribly unfortunate oxymoron. 

I miss Uncle Solomon everyday. I know that he was not the best man; he was curt, discourteous, and unyielding in his opinions, but he was still family. He was the last of our family, after the death of mother and father. Each day I stand at his grave, bringing new flowers from our little garden. The chickens have long since left— it is just me and the Chrysanthemums now. I feel indebted to him, in a way. He took us in, fed us, gave us shelter, and, albeit harsh and in sparsity, he gave us love. He held me in my moments of weakness, he did not try to fix what couldn’t be mended, and for that I will be forever grateful. Now, I fear that there will no longer be any Sallow’s come next year. With my pain, and with Sebastian’s fate… there is not much more to mourn in this world. 

I do mourn for Sebastian, though, more than I mourn for anything else. He is the last soul that I grieve. I ache for my twin, my only brother. The last I saw of him, he was not the person I grew up with. There was so little of him left, it was like looking at a reflection— a painting of sorts. It was his form, his face, but the eyes were not quite right. There was something missing in them. Maybe a wrong color, or a misplaced brushstroke, or an accidental drop of ink where it shouldn’t be. It was simply wrong, all the same. That was not my Sebastian anymore, and I fear that he has not been him for some time. His horrendous fate will not heal the hole in my heart, but I doubt that there is anything that truly will. 

I know that I do not have much longer on this earth. The pain is becoming unbearable. I cannot leave my bedchambers most days, and when I am able to, I am left with very little life to live. I cannot do this on my own, Ominis, and I wouldn’t dare ask anyone to carry my burdens for me, let alone you, who has so much on his shoulders already. I worry for you, dear friend. You carry so much in that heart of yours, and have very little places to put it down and let it rest. You deserve safety, more than anyone I know. That is why I know that If I don’t end this soon, I fear that the pain may end me instead. I will not let this ailment, this curse, take me. I will go out on my own terms. At the arrival of this letter, I will be peacefully resting next to mother and father once again. I ask that you do not grieve for me. I know that it is inevitable, much like the truth of death, but please know that I am now in my little paradise. It was truly wonderful to be in your life, even if it was only for a short while. 

I must ask you one more thing, my darling Ominis. I do not wish to be in my paradise alone, and I do not wish the fate that has been dealt for him on my brother. He is not completely gone— I saw a spark of himself deep inside on that terrible day. I do not think that it is reachable anymore, but I think that he can still be saved from his treacherous fate. I know my brother, and I know that he would not want this to be his end. He is as headstrong as I am, even more at times. He would also wish to go the way that he chose, not at the hands of a demonic creature and unfeeling prison guards. Even with all that he has done, he does not deserve that. Please help him leave this world with some semblance of his soul still intact. I know that he will greet me on the other side if you are with him when he moves on. You and your new friend, of course. I wish we were able to meet on better terms, they were truly a wonder to see. In another life we would be a quartet, one that they would write legends about in the books that I read. There would be no pain, no sadness, no dark magic, no death. Just us, the world at our fingertips, and stars in our eyes. I hope that day will come— someday, somehow. 

Please take care of yourself. It may feel like you have no one, but you have so many people who care for you. Just because we may be gone does not mean that we are no longer there. We will be in the air you breathe in the Hogwarts courtyard, the laughter you hear in the common room, the sparks of magic that linger on your fingertips in the Undercroft. Most importantly, we will live in your heart; there is more than enough space in there for us. 

Live fearlessly, and love earnestly, Ominis. Live your life, and find your happiness once again. We will wait for you in our little paradise, under the lone sycamore tree at the top of the hill where we would laze about for hours in the summer. Please do not rush to greet us, though. We have all the time in the world now, and have no qualms with waiting. 

All my eternal love,

Anne Sallow

The sound of paper fluttering to the ground fills the desolate chambers of the Undercroft. A lovely white Chrysanthemum rests atop of it, petals stained slightly grey with dirt and dust. Tucked away, in the farthest corner from the only doorway in and out, sat a young boy. His knees were drawn up to his chest, only the smallest puff of ashen blond hair poking through the arms he had cradled atop his head. Withering, sorrowful sobs escaped between the gaps of his gangly limbs. Scattered around his tightly balled form was the shattered splinterings of crates, each destroyed with a level of fury only shown in grief. Singed marks littered the corners, filling the room with the scent of fire and ash. A lone wand blinked on the ground, calling out for its owner like a mother calls for her child. The boy was much too young to feel this level of anguish. Much too young to feel this level of pain. His body shook like a leaf on a fall morning, desperately holding on to any semblance of security and promise of life. But, the cold touch of death did not feel sympathy— not for the leaf, not for the tree, and not for the boy who had just lost everything. 

Ominis desperately wanted the world to slow down, just this once. Everything felt like it was moving too quickly, much faster than it ever did before. His head felt like it had been through a wall. Pounding pain bounced around the inside of his skull and landed directly behind his eyes, pushing the tears that rested there out even faster. The young boy had felt loss before; there had been many family members in the Gaunt household that were lost to the dark after reaching hopelessly for the light, one being his aunt Noctua. He remembered her sunny disposition and the love she held for the good in the world. Many had told him that she was beautiful in an almost ethereal way— like an angel that had fallen from heaven to the dark depressing depths of earth. She radiated joy from her very soul, and she took her nephew under her wing and gave him the space to breathe in the fresh air of the outside rather than the smog of his childhood home. He had felt her disappearance in the very core of his being. Day after day he waited for a letter from his dear aunt, but when days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, he slowly gave up any hope he once had of feeling her presence again. His life had been lacking a little sunlight ever since that moment. 

Yes, the boy was familiar with the feeling of loss. What he wasn’t familiar with, though, was receiving a goodbye. 

He could hear each word of the letter read to him in Anne’s sweet voice. Every lift and fall in her speech had been memorized by him long ago. Ominis lived his life in two timelines: before the Sallow’s, and after. Anne was the first he had met, and what an impression she made. She was his treasure— his sister— his friend. The girl brought a freshness to his dreary world, a lightness in her laughter and a calming energy in her cadence. She wasn’t sunlight, like his aunt, she was the moon on a cloudless night. Ominis associated her with the smell of the outdoors, the cooling wind of a fresh fall breeze and the windswept blades of grass that flew into the sky after a rough game of quidditch. She always had an air of mischief about her, every word she spoke came from a wayward smirk and a twinkle in her eye so bright the boy could see it without the gift of sight itself. 

Then, there was Sebastian. If she was a gentle fall wind, he was a tornado; sweet, blissful calm at the center of maximal chaos. Much like Anne, the Sallow boy was more than a friend, he was a brother to Ominis. With him came an air of mystery and adventure— late nights filled with sneaking about the castle and muffled laughter against shoulders and behind grandiloquent pillars. There was nothing in the world that he couldn’t conquer with that boy by his side. Ominis associated him with the smell of old books, hidden deep in the depths of the restricted section and just begging for someone to take a look at its forbidden pages, and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes when he was told a particularly preposterous joke. If Anne brought the joy, Sebastian brought the laughter. There was a time, not that long ago, that Ominis would do anything, go anywhere, become whatever, for the twins. 

Now, one was a dimmed light across a blackened sea, and the other would light no more. 

Ominis felt like his heart was being stabbed into his chest. The words as sharp as damascus steel pierced his ribs and wiggled its way into his most loyal organ. Never once had the boy worried about if his heart would stop— if he would ever cease to be. Not for a long while, at least. But the moment he had picked up that final letter from Anne, he felt like everything in his chest stilled in solidarity with the dearly departed witch. The boy was truly a ghost, and the world around him continued to move like his entire soul hadn’t just been unrooted from his body and tossed into the black lake to drown. 

Such as life, he supposed. It does not stop turning. Not for the sweet hello of life, nor the dismal goodbye of death. Why curse at or plead with something that does not owe him any favors. 

Still, the Gaunt boy rested in his personal mausoleum and mourned for the beautiful life lost. He did not care if the world continued, for him it had stopped. The world did not end with a grand bang, nor with a soft whisper. The world ended in silence, and the demeure promise of nothingness. 

A despondent creak sounded from the Undercroft gate, almost like it too cried for its fallen companion. Ominis held himself, willing his breathing to still and his sniffles to quiet. He wanted to blend into the darkness that surrounded him and disappear once again into the sweet nostalgia of his mind. The idea of speaking to another person, even someone he regarded so highly and held so dearly in his heart, set a deep pain in his teeth that spread down his arms and ended at the tips of his toes. He had mourned with them not long ago, a week in the past at most, but he was not prepared for this level of emotional vulnerability. They had known Sebastian as personally as he had— they did not know Anne the same. 

The sound of his friend’s steps echoed against the high stone ceilings and were swallowed by the soft ground below. He could feel their vibrations getting closer, but they had not spoken yet. They approached him like a frightened animal would tiptoe towards the outstretched hand of a stranger, hesitant and wary of each possible reaction. The animal did not know if the hand would feed and care for them or snatch them up and cook them for dinner, and neither did his friend. Each gentle sound sent his heart roughly against his chest once again, jump-starting it from its eternal slumber nonconsensually. The gentle brush of cloth against concrete silenced his brain. His friend had sat next to him with not a word said— absolutely no questions asked. They were just there. His breathing stilled in his chest in startled silence. Ominis counted the breaths of their companion, each one filling the still air and pushing on the moments of quiet. They were waiting for him to allow them to read the crumpled parchment at his feet. Minutely, the boy nodded his head against his knees, and he heard them shift and reach for the letter. The sound of paper rustling kissed his ears once more and every hair on his body rose to attention. He could hear their breathing catch in their throat at Anne’s confession and shakingly release once again at her death wish. Ominis did not know what was to come next from his stoic partner. Would they leave him in his solitude to fester and rot alone in agony? Would they laugh at his grief and cringe at his weakness? He wasn’t sure which would hurt worse. 

A soft brush of a hand against his neck drew him from his stupor and shocked the skin that rested there. He stiffened under the light touch, shoulders rising around his ears in protection. A zephyr-like voice crashed against his barriers like a benign tide. 

“What can I do to help?” 

He stilled again. A sudden cold crashed over his body like falling through the ice of a frozen lake. He was not expecting this. He was prepared for the darkness to consume him; for the giant squid resting in a deep slumber under the black lake to wrap its twisting tentacles around his ankles and drag him deep, deep down below. He was prepared to drown. But this? Mutual grief was understandable, but compassion? This he was not used to. A part of his comatose heart thawed at the notion of someone caring for him that weren’t the Sallow children, and at the same time it frightened him to his bones. He did not want anyone to get close to him again; all he brought was death and destruction and destruction and death. He raised his haunches even higher, shrugging the soft hand from his skin like it had burned him. 

“You did not know her like I did— did not love her like I did. What could you know of my pain? How could you possibly help me?” Ominis spit at the student, defenses raised and teeth bared like a wild animal in a cage. 

The student paused, lowering their hand to their side once more. They may not have known Ominis for long, but they had not heard the bite of his anger since their fateful first meeting outside of the Undercroft. Even still, his vexation was not that startling. They could hear the stuttered breaths of their companion, the thick coating of tears in his voice, and their heart broke. It was true, they did not know Anne like the boy did, but they knew him, and they knew that he needed help. Ominis was not one for emotions— showing the slightest change in expression in the Gaunt household was often met with harsh consequences. He often hid himself away when something bothered him, lashing out when the status quo is challenged in any way. They had noticed this soon after arriving at Hogwarts. His slight shift in expression and posture whenever they were around Sebastian was all they needed to know about his opinion on change. They wished to tell him that they did not wish to encroach in his world, did not wish to take what he protected so dearly, unless explicitly invited, but did not want to hurt his pride in the process. The easiest way to thaw a seemingly unthawable heart? Simply be kind. So, that’s what they did— they were kind to the young Gaunt boy who so rarely experienced the notion itself. 

“Yes, I did not know her. You are right about that. But, you did. You loved her, that much is obvious.” He heard his friend shuffle on the ground, searching for the words and the comfort they hoped to bring with them. “What I do know, though, is that I love you. You are hurting, and I am here to answer the call. I will not leave your side, Ominis. I will stay until you are ready to speak, and we will work through this together. I'm here, if you'll have me.” 

Tears sprung to his eyes, wetting the slightly dried flesh of his cheeks and erupting him back into sobs. How was this person real? How could the torturous world outside of these castle walls create something so tender, so human? They didn’t wish anything from him. They were not forcing him to talk about his feelings, or silence his crying and move on with his day. Such a simple courtesy that he had never been allotted before. 

Ominis relented in his stubborn solitude. Releasing one arm from the petrified stance he had been in for what felt like hours, he rested his hand between the two students as a show of peace. A pinky brushed against his own, and that was all there was. That’s all there needed to be. 

With the heavy weight of the world a little lighter on his back, Ominis wailed, and he grieved, and he yearned for something better. 

The two friends rested in silence for what felt like years. Ominis could feel the ghosts of time-shaped vines crawl around his ankles and up his legs, the flowering buds along its tendrils tickled at his arms and tightened around his chest in a pleasant hug. If he closed his eyes and thought hard enough, he could feel the leaves enter his mouth and curl around his brain, only to exit once again out of his eye sockets and bloom with beautiful nature. He couldn’t help but think of Anne, six feet under the ground. He hoped the flowers were kind to her. 

Once his breathing calmed down and his sniffles retired to sleep until the next cry once again, his friend spoke.

“I know what we can do.” 

The boy raised his head slightly in confusion, silently asking the student to his left to continue. 

They sensed his trepidation and clarified in a voice filled with a strong eclipse of finality. “I know what we can do for Sebastian.” 

Ominis paused, going back through the letter in his head for context. He was so overtaken with the grief of Anne’s suicide that he didn’t pay any mind to her last wish. Like the rapture itself had been born in the room, the boy’s fast spinning world stilled in its movement. Of all things that she could have asked for, she had asked the pair of them to help Sebastian kill himself and escape his fate at the hands of dementors. Could they do that? Would they be able to do that? The rational part of his brain said yes. The rational part of his brain reminded him that he had lost Sebastian long ago to the hands of dark magic. The Sebastian he knew died that night when the loyalists cursed Anne and took his sister from him. The irrational part of his brain, though? The idea of helping with the death of his best friend caused the same sorrow that he had gone numb to moments ago rear its ugly head once again with a vengeance. He was too tired to feel any more emotion, too tired of the pain in his body to listen to his aching heart. His mind filled with the sound of static, encasing all of his senses in a perturbed nothingness. It was like one million tiny lacewing flies were trapped behind his eyes, buzzing at a frequency that could only be heard by someone with the same heightened senses as his. His rational side took over, locking away the steely gaze of his turmoil behind the iron vault doors of his own personal Gringotts. Anne was right, Sebastian would want to leave the world on his own terms, but could they truly give that to him? In the grand scheme of things, which was better? Saving the rabbit from slaughter only to cook it for dinner, or throwing it to the wolves and watching it get torn limb from limb? 

Either way, someone kills, and someone gets eaten. 

He decided to hear them out. They had obviously thought about this for a while; he could smell the determination on them like the pungent odor of a badly brewed potion. He cleared his throat, not trusting himself to speak quite yet, and nodded his head for them to continue. 

They took a deep breath before beginning their plan. “I was doing inventory for Professor Sharpe a few days ago, just something to clear my mind from this hell of a year, and I saw something peculiar in his stores. Have you ever heard of the nightshade berry?” 

Ominis shook his head at the fifth year, a look of curious confusion muddling his features. 

They continued, “It’s a small berry, no bigger than a gobstone, I’d say. It’s used frequently in muggle medicine. One or two berries can be helpful in curing ailments; a handful can cause death.” 

The boy’s eyebrows raised to his hairline in intrigue, silently asking them to finish their tale. Their friend fully faced them and spoke animatedly. 

“I remember a young girl in our village went into the woods to gather some blueberries for her mother one day. She had been gone for hours, and a search party was sent out to bring her home safely— the woods were very dangerous, you see. They stumbled upon her completely by accident, tucked under a bush not far off the beaten path. She had found a bushel of nightshade and mistaken them for edible, snacking on a few of them before planning to bring the rest home. She must have eaten enough to stop her heart indefinitely. The adults of the village gossipped about it for weeks. Apparently, they hadn’t known that she was dead until they felt how cold her skin was. She looked peaceful enough to have been asleep under the stars.” 

Ominis met his companions eyes, seeing meeting unseeing, and puzzled through their story. A muggle poison would be their best option, he mused. They would never think to check for something like that, as muggleborns weren’t allowed in places run by the Ministry so they likely wouldn’t know about anything other than magical deaths. They could easily crush the berries into an extract of sorts; easy to conceal and easy to take. The question was, how would they get into Azkaban? The prison was guarded by the best Aurors that the Ministry had to offer, not to mention the fact that it was the main nest of all the dementors in the wizarding world. They couldn’t just simply walk in for a visit, it was unheard of. Sure, there were always ways to bend the rules, but how could they bend something as immovable as Azkaban?

He could hear his friend’s footsteps as they paced the length of the room, likely pondering the same questions that he was. When he spoke of his hesitations, they quickly made their way back to his sitting form, squatting down to his level and placing their hands atop of where his were on his knees. He could hear the sad, mournful smile in their voice as they spoke. 

“Let me worry about retrieving the poison for now. We will convene back here after supper and plan the rest.” 

They leaned close, brushing a stray hair that fell from his quiff back into place before pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. He timidly smiled at the gesture, feeling the love they held for him in that touch. Even after all these years, the young boy was still not used to the feeling of unconditional love. Everything always came with a price, even the simplest joy of finding comfort in another. He tried to push his past trauma down deep into his gut, far past the scars of childhood and the fear of the future, but his smile still did not reach his eyes. His friend could see this, of course. They were astutely aware of everything to do with the young blond boy. The student chose to ignore the pain in their companions' expression, just this once; they knew that he did not want to share any more than he already did that afternoon. Softly, they bumped their forehead against his in a show of unity and whispered some final soothing words against his skin.

“You are not alone, my dear Ominis. Please do not feel like you must solely hold up the world for others. You are not Atlas, and we are not Zeus.” 

The two friends departed the Undercroft with a new air about them— a freshly bleeding chunk missing from their souls, each holding a needle and thread for the other. 

Only a tiny, sterling white Chrysanthemum remained in the sheltered hideaway. 

***

like what you read? here's more!

[sun-undone]

You definitely reminded me of some key points in season 3 that I definitely didn’t consider.

The château being burned down by topper seal the deal of him becoming an enemy. It would be EXTREMELY hard to see topper having a redemption story after that with some corny BS line like “ hey John b no hard feelings with the château, right?”💀💀💀

But just a warning 👀 if you hear Sarah’s voice starting off a epsiode with a reflective monologue of confusion and indecisiveness, then You know what’s coming 😂 let’s see if the pates intentionally screw us over with her character growth.

I agree with Jarah B being the stable couple as the other couples are still fresh and have some more exploring to do with their dynamic. I would love to see a bond created between JJ and Mike maybe closer to the end of season 4 to show Mike he can be the guy for kie and mike should give him a chance just like he was given one before he got accepted into the kooks.. we’ll seeeeee

NOWWWW

MR COUNTRY CLUB HIMSELF

Mark my words if Rafe does not become a Pogue by the end of season 4 he will die sacrificing his life for them with his final words laying in Sarah’s arms saying

“ I finally did something right”

( if I am completely wrong just forget I ever existed 🤣🤣)

LETS BE HONEST Ward created a monster with rafe. But rafe mistakes EAT HIM UP ALIVE which is why he is heavy on drugs. I still remember him crying because Barry didn’t have any coke for him one day and he freaked out. Rafe is a lunatic but not a serial killer. Which is why he went back to save Ward after putting a hit man on him. Rafe wants real acceptance! His problem is he always tries to fix his mistakes last minute.

Rafe isn’t a kook because of the luxury lifestyle. He’s a kook because of power and validation. Unlike topper who is a silver spoon fed kid with no siblings. Just a spoiled single child.

If the JJ and rafe fight happens. I think it’s early in the season. I don’t think they’ll make it a big ordeal. I feel like the Pogue gang will have bigger fish to fry by the end of the season if they’re on a new treasure hunt.

OK, please rip my response to shreds with your thoughts, I’m all ears.

Look at what this stupid little boat show has done to us 🥲

oooooh okay this is such an interesting topic, Rafe is such an interesting character to begin with, so i think his storyline in s4 is the one i'm most curious about. especially since we got nothing from him in the s3 finale for whatever dumb reason.

this is a very complex conversation to have, but to start, i don't think i want a redemption for Rafe! and i think they kind of closed the door on him sacrificing himself for the pogues or Sarah in particular by having Ward do it in season 3. i truly don't know how far they're gonna go with him seeking revenge on the pogues for Ward's death, or what they plan on doing with his character after this season, but whatever it is, i just don't see him turning a new leaf by the end of it. the ending for Rafe i'd most like to see is him going to jail and losing all of his assets and possessions, including Tannyhill, so Pope can snatch it up and make it a museum that tells the true story of Denmark Tanny. but i'm getting ahead of myself, let's talk about the really juicy stuff

do Rafe's actions eat him up anymore? i definitely agree that in the first 2 seasons, he was an absolute wreck trying to hold himself together with coke and by desperately seeking Ward's validation to keep himself occupied. but what about in season 3? he has that scene with Kie in episode 2 where he tries to paint himself as the victim for killing Peterkin, and i think that his denial truly runs that deep at this point. through spinning the story in his own mind, he's convinced himself that he did the right thing so he doesn't have to feel all the complicated emotions that we saw him feeling at the end of season 1 and even into season 2 in the aftermath of the murder. but in terms of Sarah, he does actually get emotional when he explains that he knows it was wrong, which is incredibly interesting to me. he clearly hasn't done the same mental gymnastics in trying to defend himself for that, so i could definitely see him genuinely feeling remorseful, which opens up that same incredibly complex dynamic that he and Sarah have had for a while now. there's a part of him that will always resent her for being Ward's favorite for so long, but now we can see that there is real guilt about trying to kill her. i think that scene really captures the pure instability of Rafe's mental state that still exists in some capacity, mainly in terms of Sarah, which we unfortunately don't see a ton of moving forward in the season since he barely has any scenes with the pogues. in general, he actually seems pretty confident and secure, maybe the best we've ever seen him, in terms of his mental and emotional state. so is the guilt really bothering him that much? the coke doesn't seem to be a coping mechanism for him like it had been before, like he was constantly using for the majority of season 2. but we just didn't see him struggling with his past actions in season 3, it was much more about his present and especially his future.

but for season 4, i'm definitely expecting a return to the more unstable side of Rafe as he plots revenge. who will he target in particular? who does he think is most responsible? will he choose to leave the other pogues out of the crossfire? if he gets the chance to kill Sarah again, would he take it? if he really was remorseful at the beginning of season 3, has that been overtaken by rage by the beginning of season 4? the year and a half time jump makes this much trickier cause maybe he's been trying to keep his mind off of it and do his own thing and resist the urge to get revenge but when he hears about the pogues getting recognition for their findings, it sends him off the deep end again? or has he been stewing the entire time? has the time given his rage the chance to simmer down a bit or has it only boiled over into something worse? now that he has the blessing of his father, which is the only thing he's ever really wanted, what are his motivations? how will he shift his way of thinking now that there's no more Ward to aspire to or to spite, and how will his mental state fare now that he believes that the pogues have taken away any opportunity he might've had to mend his relationship with his father?

there's truly so many things to consider and countless different avenues that his path could take, and i really do not know what is most likely at this point!! Drew hasn't even gotten to set yet so there's absolutely no bts to speculate about either. personally, i love Rafe as a character and i don't wanna see him killed off, and like i said before, although he expresses remorse in 3x02, i'm not sure if it's gonna be enough moving forward. i've always been interested in his character and have never shied away from the fact that Ward absolutely aided in fucking him up for life, BUT i just don't know if Rafe himself thinks he needs redeeming. and i especially don't know if he'll be thinking in that way in the aftermath of Ward's death.

but really, who knows???? i'm voting squarely against a redemption or any kind of sacrifice, but god, i am so so so intrigued to see where the pates take him.

this was really fun to think about and i could probably ramble on for way way way longer, but this is long enough already!!! thanks for sparking up the discussion! ☺️

[nunnduuraah-blog]

LOVERS & LEAVERS

There once was a forest and there once was a tree, and atop that tree there once sat a leaf. She was beautiful, she was wonderful, truly a prefect leaf, pretty beyong belief. Emerald green against the sky, like a precious gemstone sitting up high. And when the sun shone through her, oh she glowed, garnering envy from all below. And time moved on, and the days flew by, from season to season, and then one day the cold arrived. From emerald to gold, from gold to copper, nobody could stop her. Then finally crimson, like a rose, she was a vision, her glory arose.

And then a voice rang out, clear and crisp.

"Oh ruby red, I just can't get you out of my head. So fiery, such impeccable, I desire you, you ignite my passion" It was the wind, so pure and clear. He blew everywhere, here and there. and of all the leaves, in this sea of jade, he chose to be with she, on his Autumn parade. "let go of your branch, come let me hold you, without a chance, in my heart you've shot a hole through" She blushed apple-red, her color even deeper, she felt his breeze, wishing to greet her. "Come with me, I'll make you fly, come be free, don't be shy" And so she let go, and the wind caught her, and away she went, the tree's sweet daughter. He lifted her up, so high so high, Blowing so fast, no time for goodbyes. And they danced, and they loved, and he did enchant, and she felt beloved. She flew and she soared, she blew South and she drew North.

Over hills and fields, beyond lakes and wealds. He showed her the world, and he was her world. And if she ever fell, he'd uplift her, his currents would swell, and he'd be a heavenly gifter.

Raising her up, she was so cherished, his love was enough, it would never perish. so whenever she dropped, he'd hug her tight, their dance never stopped, and everything was alright.

Young love, first love, tender love, true love.

And it got colder, but he did delight her, and she got older, and the world grew whiter.

Under a silver sky, one day she dropped, soon again she'd fly, but his song had stopped.

No more, he was gone, even though he swore, swore she was the one.

She felt so heavy, she felt so dry, she wasn't ready, for her love to die.

This wasn't a dream, this wan't a lie, it was what it seemed, but why but why?

Didn't he love her, didn't he promise? Didn't he love her? Didn't he love her...

And finally she came to rest, rest on the forest floor, and she saw the rest, of those he adored.

Leaves leaves leaves! Big and small! Leaves leaves leaves! He forgot them all!

She wasn't the one, just one of many, the world was coming undone, need help need help can she get any?!

He was charming, but oh so cruel, his love was harming, she felt such a fool.

Forgotten love, last love, empty love, false love.

He was her world, she was just a season, why must she hurt, was there even a reason?!

she felt betrayed, she felt so much hate, on the ground she stayed, it was too late.

She cried out, sang out, begged begged begged... but he never answered. She felt ugly, rejected, dejected, no longer a prancer.

This was the end, her love was dead, too far gone to mend, no hope ahead.

Heart-taker, thrill-chaser, heart-breaker, never again would he face her...

She felt humiliated, why was his love so trivial? It was him she hated, he was pure evil.

So she grew bitter, and the Winter bit her, and the snow arrived, she was barely alive, and her voice grew quiet, why'd it why'd it...?

Why'd it turn out like this? What was it so unfair? What was this sick twist? Why such deep despair?

Covered in snow, deep down below, he'll never show, her heart can't take such a blow...

And here comes Spring, songbirds sing, new leaves bud, life busting from the mud.

But she is gone, she is no more, she was wrong, she was never cared for.

When her love was the world, all he saw was a toy, he'd take her for a twirl, just a thing to enjoy.

Love hard? He'll discard. Love deep? He'll lead you on like a sheep.

And the ground is scattered with these sad stories, they have no voices, they have no glory.

[nyctx]

#17

Almost two months since my last post, I really have grown to be ashamed of myself and the things I say on here. I would delete it, but that doesn't seem necessary. I don't change, I still have things I want to say about my life (though it sounds stupid in the long run).

I have officially lost my mind, or sort of lost my mind. It's already 3:30 a.m by the time I'm typing this shit out and 3:30 a.m when my thoughts seem to spiral. I might just let them win over and make the rest of the season bleak. I'm tired, losing motivation, and feeling like nothing really matters that much. I only say that because I don't know who to run with these kinds of problems without feeling like I'm pushing a limit. Who would I go to? How would I even do that?

I think the only one making any of this worth it, is Mario. Mario's the best bet I got right now to the closest friend I have. Out of everyone I know, he makes me feel the safest, the most comfortable. But...it's so painful to be around him, it hurts to talk to him...and with my best friend as well. With them, my soul intertwines and dances like a leaf in the wind or something poetic like that. I feel interlinked, I feel connected....but who is it that my heart really, truly wants? Or is my brain trying to give me some sad excuse for a romance that everyone desires so I feel normal? Normal fucking sucks, it can kill itself.

I can't tell if I find my best friend annoying, or if I love him so much that I can't be around him because like Mario, it hurts. It makes me all kinds of sick, all kinds of nervous. It hurts, it really does.

But so does inferiority.

When turning towards this group of people, I saw myself enjoying their presence, but now I just feel like a bother to them. I feel inferior to them. We all draw, some of us write, and do other things. But I just feel so below them when it comes to this. I don't feel worthy enough to be called their friends or someone with good art skills. My writing.....I haven't written passionately in months, and all I have going for me besides that is....I don't even know. I feel so low compared to them...so bad. Maybe it's me trying to prevent me from fucking up and getting me kicked out of the group, maybe it's because I'm overthinking, maybe it's because I'm in love with my best friend. Just so many maybes I don't have an answer to. I feel like such a bad person for thinking this way.

-Dxll Face

[golden-----hour]

46

9/15/23

I leave for Vienna in 3 days. I moved to the acceptance part of things already.

Right now I am thinking the only person I would share this with is Lily. So maybe I will.

But I have just endured the hardest week of my life. I have had so much diarrhea and I can't eat sometimes and I wake up with such severe stomach aches. Last night each dream I had went sour and I woke and immediately fled to the bathroom to evacuate myself. I dispensed the dreams into the drain. I pondered Fulbright Ecuador. My real glory. I had a teacher question me, or something. Boom- I was awake, I ran, and liquid spurted from under me.

Today: perfect autumnal day. Crisp air, honeyed light, the hush of anticipation, a wayward leaf every few feet. I think: my time here is up.

I took the Xanax and stood outside until my stomach stopped screaming. Four days ago I threw up and shit at the same time. Outside is the same. The green leaves bruise brown, stand a bit awkwardly awaiting the season. Nothing pulls me anywhere and there is no poetry. I am as anonymous as ever.

Then I had my nothingness and lay myself on the couch next to my little dog and napped for an hour. Breezes carried through the open windows. I didn't have anything to do, really. No one asked for me, about me. But the little dog was there when I awoke. I had a coffee I couldn't finish. It will take me 5 hours. The chipotle bowl I bought yesterday took me 19 hours to eat. My digestion waged war against me.

I'm tired of saying it. ()()()() doesn't know about ending, departure, leaving.

I went to work. My music store job is a welcome respite. I have more to say about it. I play piano and try not to think about it. I tell children good luck. They marvel at my fast piano playing. The sun sets gloriously orange behind the Tiger Sugar and Lily Laundry Mat. I am proverbial and sirenic and reverberating out. I say Vinay, who I haven't seen since Summer 2022, whom I met at the student center. He remembered me first. We played together. I was truly happy.

I know what sort of life I deserve!

I vacuumed. My coworker John talked at me while I practiced my fingering for L'isle Joyeuse. He is looking for another job. He wanted a raise. He is moving back to South Jersey. I know that is okay but I would rather not move to South Jersey. When I leave, I immediately queue "Potentially the interlude" in my Honda, open the windows, drive and she bellows, "People say they love you but they really love potential, not the person that's in front of them, the person you'll grow into."

My parents and I watch Only Murders in the Building. (I am trying to be calm right now my stomach is plotting an escape. Last night I took tums at 3:00am.) My mother caresses me- a rarer gesture. It is why I felt asleep so early last night.

Two nights ago, Chris came over. I was so happy when I opened snap at like 10:00pm and I saw he had messaged me. He said, "are you free tonight?" I said, "of course!" Our sex is biblical. I watched him leave and arrive, knowing it is likely the last time. I love the sex w him. I am completely in control of the rhythm and movement and he really likes that. Our ()()()() are good together. They fit right and right. I was a deep breath after.

I am getting to the end. The weather is good for stimming. I am not long for this world.

[michelemoore]

Takhuk,

November, 2022

Michele Moore-V

From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere. Dr. Seuss

In late October, while walking along a street, I saw a man pulling the last of the brown dried leaves from a tree in front of what I assumed was his house.

Yes, that is what I saw, as, on a gorgeous late October day, I walked down the street toward the salon in my neighbourhood where I was scheduled for a haircut. The sun in the blue sky was so so bright and warm I might have been ‘walking on sunshine, wooah’ and oh yeeah, don’t it feel good! And then I saw, across the street, this man with his arms reaching into the lowest branches of a modest sized, mostly bare tree. I looked closely to see what he was up to, because that’s what I do when I’m out walking anywhere, I watch. People, squirrels, cars, ants, clouds. Birds! Big shiny black beetles lumbering across the sidewalk. You know, the usual things the world offers us for amusement during a city stroll.

The tree the man was concerned with looked to be about as ready for winter as most other trees around, just a few leaves hanging on, hanging in there. I didn’t see any objects being draped from the branches, I didn’t see any tools in his hands. So I slowed my pace to take a closer look. Sure enough, there he was, tugging and twisting those last stubborn leaves off their stems and dropping them on the grass below, where sat, put putting away, a little old lawn mower. With no bag on the mower to collect the dead leaves, I assumed the old guy’s fall cleanup routine involved chewing up the dead leaves with his mower and leaving the bits on the grass to decay and eventually enter the soil below and form humus. (how’s that for good gardening terminology?) A sensible approach, I thought, to the management of a small city front lawn with just one modestly sized leaf bearing tree.

Forgive me if you don’t share my humour, but when I really understood that he was truly removing the few remaining leaves on that now virtually naked tree, I cracked up. Out loud. But not so loud as to catch his ear, I would not have wanted him to misunderstand me. I wasn’t laughing at him,  I was laughing at my species and the things we will do.

Giggling to myself as I slowly tripped along on the opposite side of the street, I watched as he picked and twisted one leaf after another, having to exert some significant effort to disengage those determined brown but obviously still kicking leaves from their stems.

Continuing on with my walking and giggling, I imagined various scenarios as to why the man was using precious time in his sunset years, what an awful term but honestly, how else shall I put it, the guy looked as old as the hills, which I hope to be some day too so long as I can still push a lawn mower, to denude his tree of its last few fall leaves? Why could he not just let them drop when they were good and ready?

Could it have been that he had nothing better to do? Surely though, if he just wanted to be outside he could have simply stood and watched….the birds, the cars, the ants, the people. He could have gone for a walk. Certainly if he could still push a lawn mower he could walk. Maybe, being of a very mature generation, perhaps he felt he had to be productive throughout the working hours of a regular week day. That, even at his advanced age, he could not just be outside for the simple pleasure of being out in the sunshine. In that case, could he not have hosed down his steps? Raked the dirt in his flower beds? Again and again? Inspected his siding and windows?  

Perhaps he had a thing for tidiness, a thing so powerful that he would find the sight of a few renegade leaves sitting on his lawn after he had packed away the mower for the season utterly intolerable. Maybe a bit of that Type A personality. (I have this problem when it comes to kitchen towels. Can’t stand seeing them helter skelter, need them neatly folded on the counter or out of sight.) Perhaps, for this gentleman, a sense of order, a sense of the proper way of things, means that when trees lose their leaves they are to lose every single one of them, that bare branches means, Bare branches!

Or, perhaps he had a wife inside who drove him to it. SHE perhaps was the one whose mind and soul felt shredded every time she looked out the picture window and saw those half dead leaves triumphantly fluttering in the wind. Or, maybe he had a wife inside who couldn’t care less, it was just that she had the television on too loud and he just had to get OUT! Or she was cooking liver and he could not bear the odour?

By the time I got to the salon I had exhausted my mind of all possibilities. I shared the story with my stylist. We decided the fellow was a man who liked to accomplish things, liked being outside, had run out of ideas and was bored out of his mind. We also speculated about a wife inside, and the possibility that there was no one inside, which made me think I should stop and say hello if the man was still outside on my return trip. He wasn’t, but you know I will be watching for him next time.

We all do inexplicable things, right? And most of the time, we can simply laugh at ourselves, and at each other, and be grateful for the entertainment we provide each other.

I hope your autumn has been equally entertaining and that your cup overflows with laughter and love as we head into the season of sparkle and snow. 

www.michelemooreveldhoen.com

photo courtesy of Clem Onajeghao/Unsplash

[starlightrealmofficial]

Mob Psycho 100 III- Episode 4 Review

Intro:

Hello ladies, gentlemen and all those inbetween from all across the multiverse! My name is Rouga and today I bring you another installment of the Mob Psycho 100 III reviews. this time the number that comes after three. When I last spoke to you through my inaudible words about this here anime we'd had a little bit of setup for what seems to be the grand conflict of the season, sort of like Claw was. and with Dimple ready to take control of fifty thousand people with that creepy as all hell Mob disguise things are shaping up to be pretty bad. Fifty kilo units of person is quite a lot of manpower for such an existance as Dimple, With this complete and utter bunglenut of a spirit at the helm things have the potential to turn, shall we say interesting. So without further ado let's jump right into it.

Episode Review:

We begin this episode with the number of schoolgirls interested in Mob shrinking 1x Mezato Ichiwhich was to be rather expected what with the completely real not in any way not human, perfectly legitimate founder and creator of the Psycho Helmet Religion showing up to replace Mo… erm I mean clear up the misunderstanding and stop dragging Mob into matters he has completely no relevancy to of course. and further decreased with the telepathy obsessed girl also noping out on him in favor of the psycho helmet dudes, something is definetely fishy here, tho I do not know what or just how much. I am honestly quite pleasantly surprised with Reigen this episode as he actually did some detective-based work to look into the building deterioration, which as someone who is currently going through kamen Rider W, makes me very happy and shows that if Reigen wants to be, he can be quite skilled at many things from massages to photo editting to gaming and even some bit of web design. There is truly more to him than meets the eye and he's not even an alien, at least I don't think he is? he is a great pretender tho. Anyways, getting sidetracked. And just as I imagined things with Psycho Hat guys are going down a brainwashing powder made from the divine broco-tree is some seriously high level stuff if it can even overshadow Teruki's mindbrain And in the previous shot of all those townspeaople one had very characteristic cheeks, I wonder if that's also an effect given they are very dimple-esque or just something random. What's more during Teru's shot we saw Psycho Helmet behind him and while DImple is a spirit I don't think he has the ability to move soundlessly like that to sneak up on Teru with the physical form whatever it is. This is turning the harmless bunglenuts into a serious creep alert and I'm honestly all for it if well executed. The action sequence with Teru battling against the self proclaimed God of brocoli was a very well executed exchange, Showing us the power of this new threat through opposing it to Teru, one of the most capable psychics we've seen in the series and for someone of even his caliber to be able to be briefly overpowered this is trully a large threat. Seeing a comeback of Minegishi, the plant esper in this episode wasn't something I considered but it does make sense for giving us an expert's take on the problem at hand, even if said expert was rather quickly also overpowered by the broco-tree, plus it's nice seeing him turn over a new leaf and get a proper job. Reigen is coming in clutch with the planning this episode he really thinks about his actions and is happy to reach out for the needed help which also gives us an excuse to see Ritsu so that's nice. Especially since it gives us a normal person's point of view on the sheer magnitude of such a task. Seeing more shots of the other characters get wrapped up in this whole religion mess and roping an unknowing Ritsu into being brainwashed was something I honestly did not think about but it's at least good that Reigen did not eat the candy he gave out. I shudder to think of what would happen if Reigen, the guiding force for Mob tried protecting the threat too. And even worse, if the brainwashing could extend to Mob himself.

And wouldn't you know it, Reigen did get brainwashed by the sheer power of, whatever the heck it is that did that. I guess the tree is now powerfool enough to be able to spread its influence around the city with the roots? that'd make sense. Thankfuly Mob caught on rather quickly to what is going on and attempts to stand up to it alone. Weirdly Mesato wasn't brainwashed, or at least not enough to stand in his way and now the believers think they have two founders. With Dimple off the leash, Reigen and most of the city brainwashed, Teru's status being unknown and Mob growing ever nearer that magic 100, Episode 5 is sure to give us something really grand This somewhat reminds me of the Mogami arc in some aspects with the fact that Mob is in a way singled out and i am very much looking forward to seeing it. An interesting little tidbit I wanted to point out here was also in the next episode's preview bit Reigen talking still brainwashed which is some nice attention to detail With that. This will be all for the review. i hope to see you all in the next one when Episode 5 drops. Before I go however I will say that I am soon going to be slightly branching out thanks to the return of a certain Togashi to the world of manga so do look forward to seeing some more of my creative side. I have been Rouga, and thank you for reading!

[bluexiao]

Can’t Help Falling in Love

—the very moment that they started to realize that they were in love with you

CHARACTERS: Aether, Albedo, Childe, Diluc, Kaeya, Kazuha, Razor, Scaramouche, Venti, Xiao, Zhongli; gn!reader

THEMES: Fluff, Kind of Light angst on others, Character Analysis?

NOTES: i was meant to add chongyun and xingqiu but my head says no😭😭 i’ve been feeling sick all day and it just gotten worse. please enjoy reading this one! I took a different route with this so i’m quite reluctant to post it but i was already halfway done so yep.

p.s. Can’t Help Falling in Love suddenly played in the bg while i’m making this post maybe it’s a sign for you to listen to it too:)) at first the title was “Falling in Love” but I changed it haha.

AETHER was in awe, maybe it was the peaceful, stable life that you seemingly lived on, or how you seemed different compared to anyone he’d ever seen in his life. Like a falling star, he fell, not knowing where he’d land or what would happen next. He didn’t want to hurt you, nor leave you, but the future is yet to come, right? Maybe he can enjoy this moment with you, it’s not like he’s asking for more… right? Would he be able to let you go if it was time for him to go?

ALBEDO felt odd. He had drawn many things and this was the first time being drawn—hypothetically. He feels special; being cared for, as if you were gently painting on a canvas, your every touch like a brush, exposing the good and bad parts of his to the world and to your eyes. Love is but a mystery to him, perhaps he’d learn more about it when he indulges in this feeling?

CHILDE feels excited, strong even. You give him strength every time he sees you—and at that moment, he willed to protect you from the monsters that attacked you and it swelled his pride when he successfully did so. It’s very different from whenever he finishes a mission for the Tsaritsa, this one holds more emotions and is far longer-lasting than any other. He isnot a selfish man, but for you, he might just well be.

DILUC was burdened and at peace at the same time. The thought of loving you was a heavy duty he was not sure if he could take, but he felt at ease whenever you were there. This is it, right?—the feeling he didn’t want to feel but fell into the trap anyway. He accepts it, but should you feel the same way, it would surely be difficult to resist, but he may have to if he wants to keep you safe.

KAEYA feels bare. He doesn’t like it, but he craves it. He knows your every word, every scent, and he wants more. He drowns in Angel’s share more than he did before and even Diluc will notice his sudden change as he struggles to plan for his actions. It will take a while before you see him, but the moment you will, you’d find out what his decision would be; to be with you, or not. The choice is his, but you’re making it harder for him to make one.

KAZUHA fell like a maple leaf during the fall; slowly but surely, conscious but silent, certain but finding for the feeling to truly know that this is what he wanted—at this point of the season, at this certain place. He wants to give you the very best, and if the best would be to take it all slow, then he would. He’d make you fall in love with him too, and when he was certain that it’s the right time, then his feelings shall be uncovered and it shall emerge to be with you finally.

RAZOR feels the undeniable and insatiable desire to always be by your side. His heart wanted to call you his family, but this feeling that he couldn’t seem to fathom, it’s more than what he feels towards others. It’s warmer, fuzzier, safe. He’d probably realize this when he felt how comfortable he was to be in your arms, to feel belong with someone, no matter where he goes, he’s sure that when he’s with you, everything would be fine.

SCARAMOUCHE doesn’t know love, nor did he care about it at first. He saw it as a weakness, a pitiful feeling that a harbinger like him shouldn’t feel—but he felt it when you came into his life. It was a process, but it hit him like a lightning when you showed compassion to the likes of him. You two were different—very different, but he wanted you to be by his side ever since that day.

VENTI feels like himself. He was not Venti the bard, he was not Barbatos the god, he was him—just him. He doesn't feel any burden when he’s with you—and the moment he realizes this, he knows he’s in love. Love; such a generalized word, but he, despite being a god, knows it, sees it, could feel it—only when he’s with you. Perhaps this is it? Perhaps this is the part when the universe decides he can have one good thing in life, and that would be you.

XIAO likens it to the sweet taste of Almond Tofu—delectable, addicting, desirable, tempting. As an adeptus, he has no experience of any of it, but he definitely could recognize the feeling through his want for Almond Tofu, and that alone was telling of what it truly was. He dares not speak of its name in fear that his heart will burst in mortal emotions, but your smile is enough for him to be left stunned in place, and he doesn’t know what to do next.

ZHONGLI is knowledgeable, at the very least. Due to his years and years of living, he had experienced and passed through a lot of things, and this is one thing he knows of, could recognize it with how mortals tend to pray for the one they wish to be with, their desire and their hunger for love—to be loved back by whom they fell for. So this is how it feels; as warm as a cup of tea, as refreshing as its taste, and as precious as a jade. He wants you, but could a god like him really love a mortal like this? Is this another connection that would be left in vain the moment you vanish? No matter what the future holds, he was just bound to accept it, just like how he was bound with his new last contract with this love for you.

[sindri42]

Even Jesus doesn't measure up? Do you mind clarifying?

By Catholic canon, there is exactly one human who has never sinned, and it's Mary (she's also, incidentally, the only human who never died. Coincidence? probably.). Jesus is fully human in addition to being fully divine, and He is not Mary, therefore by Catholic canon He totally sinned sometimes. Nothing too severe, and He presumably sought forgiveness as appropriate, but He was in fact just some dude (other than the part where He's also the son of god).

[Naturally several Protestant sects deny this, but they're usually also the ones that claim every person is predestined from birth to go to heaven or hell and nothing they do along the way has any influence on anything, so I ignore them. After all, if they're right, my decisions are meaningless, so why should I base any of my decisions on anything they say?]

There aren't a lot of examples of this in the Gospels, since they were each just taking a few specific relevant snapshots out of a preaching career that lasted for years in order to get the vital points across as effectively as possible, but there's a notable incident that appears in both Mark 11:

The next day as they were leaving Bethany, Jesus was hungry. Seeing in the distance a fig tree in leaf, he went to find out if it had any fruit. When he reached it, he found nothing but leaves, because it was not the season for figs. Then he said to the tree, “May no one ever eat fruit from you again.” And his disciples heard him say it.

and Matthew 21:

Early in the morning, as Jesus was on his way back to the city, he was hungry. Seeing a fig tree by the road, he went up to it but found nothing on it except leaves. Then he said to it, “May you never bear fruit again!” Immediately the tree withered.

When the disciples saw this, they were amazed. “How did the fig tree wither so quickly?” they asked.

Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only can you do what was done to the fig tree, but also you can say to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and it will be done. If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.”

There was no reason for Him to do that. Some modern folks have tried to paint it as a metaphor for dishonesty since the tree had its full leaves and thus "promised" fruit but gave none, but the bible straight up says it was not the season for figs. Others claim it's a metaphor for the Jewish people, connecting it to the parable of the barren fig tree in Luke 13 which was planted and tended but failed to produce anything of value, but that would put this story in direct contradiction to the universal themes of patience and forgiveness in the entire rest of the gospels (including that parable). This wasn't a lesson, it was just a guy who was pissed off that there were no figs, who had the power to destroy the thing that pissed him off and did so.

And, if you believe in Jesus and His big sacrifice for humanity, then it is absolutely vital to know that he was capable of sin. Because a person who is not capable of evil is never choosing to do good. They would just be following their script like a mindless automaton, and in that case their sacrifice would mean nothing. In order for His death to mean anything, it has to be something that He chose to do, when He could have done anything else.

[emletish-fish]

What do you think would happen if instead of Tory, it was Sam who caught Silver paying off the referee? I feel there's a few options:

A. Sam takes what she saw to Daniel and tells him what happened. Daniel immediately demands that the girls' match be redone right there and then before anyone can leave the arena. The girls' finals are redone, and Sam wins.

B. Daniel goes to the All-Valley Committee once proof is gathered, and there's a redo of the entire girls' tournament. Which may include spectators, but alternatively, if they're just redoing the finals match, it might just happen behind closed doors with no spectators. In any case, Sam wins.

C. The entire tournament (and both gender divisions) results are voited and the whole thing is done over from scratch because no one knows for certain how many matches were fixed.

D. They simply disqualify Tory and order her to turn the trophy over to Sam.

I mean any of those options could have happened, but they all kind of dead-end a story that has to continue for 2 more seasons, and none of them would have been narratively as interesting as what happened.

Side note: There is also option E - the AVT Committee try to sweep it all under the rug because they don't want any more bad press - but a little AVT Committee drama goes a long way with me, and I don't think this storyline of beauracratic bickering and ass-covering would be rewarding for most viewers.

Sam discovering the cheating doesn't push the narrative anywhere new. It doesn't show or tell us anything we don't already know. We know Sam hates CK and considers them dirty fighters. This would simply reinforce her world view. Worst case, it adds another layer of miscommunication between the girls, with Sam thinking Tory was 'in on it' - and like, the last thing this story-line needs is manufactured misunderstanding based drama when there is already so much real drama to be getting on with.

Tory discovering the cheating does push the narrative and her growth, because once again, it is another blow to her world-view and sense of self and achievement. Tory wanted to win fairly, and now she has to live with the knowledge that she didn't.

Prior to Amanda, Tory was the student who was a 'true believer' of the CK method and Kreese. She genuinely believed that all that CK stuff was true - and that they would win because their aggressive style was 'better'.

But it wasn't better.

it wasn't possible for Tory to win on her own merits, and she had to resort to using MD methods to even land any of her points.

They had to cheat to win, and her victory is rendered completely meaningless to her.

(Oh Tory. She just wanted one solid and honest positive achievement she could call her own).

And we get to see what she does with that information.

because at this stage - Tory is the only one who knows. So were are getting into 'who-you-are-in-the-dark' stuff here, which is a trope I enjoy. Like, Tory could just take a CK whatever-it-takes-to-win mentality and tell no one what she saw and no one would ever be any the wiser. No one else would ever know that Tory didn't win fairly.

However, if Tory chooses to take action, and tries to even the playing field, tries to act honourably - it will truly be because she feels enough conviction in her newly blooming belief about the importance of fairness and honour.

And at this stage - we don't know which one she is going to do. Like, her bond with Amanda and her attempts to fight honourably are still relatively new developments, and her bond with Kreese and her indoctrination are parts of her old thinking patterns. We get to see which one is stronger. We will get to see whether Tory is truly beginning to turn over a new leaf by what she does next.

Miyagi-Do losing is also super important story-telling wise for Daniel and Sam.

I mean, to me it was obvious even from season 3 that the Johnny and Daniel would lose this AVT. (It's classic three act structure, there has always got to be a bummer note at the end of the second act. if Cobra Kai does stick to their original 6 season plan, then the end of season 4 is the end of the second act).

But the loss actually pushes Daniel to realise that he was putting way too much pressure on the children in his care. (Great realisation - love that for him. Take your duty of care seriously Daniel. I'm looking forward to what you'll do with this wonderful piece of self-awareness you've gained).

We know that Daniel is going to be on his own little crusade for a while and not confiding in Sam (and this could be because he realises his error in dumping the entire fate of the dojos/valley on her shoulders and he's putting her well-being first. However, I feel that Sam won't react as he expects to this, and might see it as Daniel losing faith in her abilities after her loss - but I feel that this could be partly self-projection because Sam is also losing faith after her loss and She'll be going on a path of questioning and self-discovery. We know from the trailer she has scenes where she fights her shadow self, so something interesting is happening with Sam's growth. Yeah, some good storylines in her future).

So yeah, Sam discovering the cheating adds nothing and dead-ends the story. Where as Tory discovering it give both her, Sam and Daniel some really interesting narrative directions and moral dilemmas and some juciy stuff to work with.

So I can see why they went with this option.

[doctorhelena]

You know I need to hear about the accidental Peggy/Howard marriage.

(For this WIP game)

Okay, this is a story where, as it says on the box, Peggy and Howard get very drunk in Vegas and wake up accidentally married. It takes place shortly after the events of Agent Carter S2, and is told mostly as a flashback (as a rather startled Steve learns about it post-Endgame 😂).

Here's a snippet. (Peggy and Howard are in Las Vegas for work, at Phillips' behest, scouting out the location of what will eventually become the Area 51 SHIELD base we saw in the last season of Agents of SHIELD.)

Howard had a residence in Las Vegas - of course he did - and as she’d already been staying with him in Los Angeles whilst conducting SSR business it had seemed to make equal sense to avail herself of his hospitality here.  The Jarvises had remained in L.A. to prepare for some sort of star-studded film industry affair Howard had planned for the upcoming weekend, but Howard seemed to use this particular pied-à-terre frequently enough that it was dust-free and well-stocked - with alcohol, at any rate. Peggy expected there was some sort of non-perishable food somewhere around, but three drinks in, Howard had yet to offer her any.  “You already looked great,” Howard called through the bathroom door. “Come on, Peg, I’m starving.” “Yes, well, perhaps you should keep food in your house,” she called back, examining herself in the mirror. If she was going to go out in public with Howard Stark on what would certainly look, to the outside eye, like a date, she was bound to be photographed once or twice despite her expertise in avoiding cameras. While she didn’t particularly want to be in the newspapers at all, she certainly didn’t want to be in the newspapers looking slovenly. A tiny part of her hoped that Daniel might happen to see such a photograph, should it end up in the LA. papers, which was patently ridiculous, she knew, because she’d been the one to break things off. She was still very annoyed at him, which she knew wasn’t really fair because the end of their short romance had been entirely her idea. But Howard was right: perhaps there was someone, somewhere she could be happy with, but it truly wasn’t Daniel Sousa. She’d known it all along, really, and she supposed that, deep down, she was far more annoyed at herself than at him. She’d allowed herself to start something with him when she knew perfectly well it would never work in the long run, simply because she’d been - what? Lonely? Frustrated? Missing Steve? Maybe she’d just bloody wanted to kiss somebody who wasn’t trying to knock her out with Sweet Dreams lipstick - or wasn’t shortly afterwards going to hold a gun to her head to extract information. But she should have known it was never going to work when Daniel had, predictably, crumpled like a dry leaf under a shoe at the first sign of peril to Peggy, as if he didn’t trust her judgement. As if she hadn’t been simply watching for the right opportunity to make her escape and commandeer the shotgun for herself. As if some things weren’t, in the end, more important than the life of one person. Steve had bloody well understood that, damn him. She stared at herself in the mirror. It was possible, she thought, that she should have eaten something before accepting three drinks when she was already in a mood like this. 

She supposed she was, after all, a little lonely. It was very clear that nobody would ever fill Steve’s place in her heart, but - a new romance, with someone who could carve out a place of their own, wouldn’t be entirely unwelcome, if she could find the right partner.

That, of course, was always the trick.

Howard whistled, low and impressed, when she came out of the bathroom, and she made a face at him. “Oh, shut up, Howard. Let’s go eat.”