#sorry i know y’all aren’t my therapist and i should get my own

[rfsak2]

Easy Target, Pt 1.

So we'll see if anyone even reads this but Ima post it anyways. This has been brewing for decades at this point and it is somewhat of a rewrite of something I posted on Sycophant Hex (~I’m aging myself~) years ago.

For the record I acknowledge that Snape is OOC. He’s taller (by a lot), capable of healing and kindness, and has a sense of humor and hella PTSD.

His characterization is due partly to having started reading these books as a kiddo well before the end of the series (which ended when I was in college ~I’m old~). I have been collecting and revising headcanons since I was a child and now, as an adult and a therapist, I have a very specific idea of Snape that may not be canon, but I might like better.

I also have un-unalived some characters. Lupin and Tonks and maybe more as we go. We’ll see. Again it may not be canon, but I like it and my Snape better. (Fuck JKR).

If you like my Snape, let me know. If ya don’t… also let me know. I’d love to discuss and compare our thoughts

Easy Target

They thought wrong. Severus/OC

Warnings: nothing right now, some bad language words. There will be warnings if continued including mentions of past abuse/assault, violence, smut.

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE. 

“Little Lottie Beauregard.” The woman grinned maliciously. “How the hell are you doin’?” 

Charlotte sighed and set down the book she had been perusing. She glanced over her shoulder and made sure her son was out of earshot. “My last name is de Vilieré, Annabelle, or are your drinking habits finally impairing your memory?”

Annabelle grit her teeth. “No, ‘course not. Say, did you hear about who was at Antoine’s last night?” 

Charlotte made a face. “Can’t say I care about gossip.”

“Beau was seen with the Dreaux girl.” 

“Good for her.”

Annabelle fidgeted with her hair, disconcerted that she wasn’t getting a reaction. “I mean, I would think you’d be interested as that’s why y’all got divorce ‘n all.”

“I didn’t get divorce because Beau was fuckin’ other women. Sorry that I can't validate your petty jealousy.”

“My petty jealousy?” Annabelle shook herself free of following that line of thought. “Why did you get divorced then?”

Charlotte caught her eyes and held them, dispassionate and disinterested, sliding a book back onto the shelf.

Annabelle shied away from her. “I just know that the Beauregards aren’t the kinda family you leave. So you had to have reason to try.” 

“I didn’t try, Annabelle, I succeeded.” Charlotte began flipping through another book. “Maybe, they aren’t as bulletproof as all y’all thought.”

“Rumor has it, your mother has already started undoing all your success.” Annabelle managed to make faux sympathy look as vicious as direct assault. “I reckon you’ll be back at home in no time.” 

Charlotte chuckled, eyes fixed on a spell in the book she was reading. “Well, my mother is hot on the heels of her own divorce, so maybe she should mind her business.” Charlotte turned towards Annabelle and shut the book with a snap. “Ironically, that’s advice you’d find helpful too.” 

Annabelle batted her eyelashes. “Oh, didn’t y’know: my business is anything I make my business.”

“That’s why your family business is failing, ain’t it?” Charlotte nodded. “Makes sense, too many fingers in too many pies.”

Annabelle blanched.

“Though, gotta say, don’t know why’d you want me to remarry Beau.” Charlotte mimicked her simpering tone. “After all, now you can fuck him all you want and you’ll be the only one committing adultery. I mean, he may need to hire a secretary to manage his…  social calendar but I’d imagined this would be good news for you… and the others too, ‘course.”

Annabelle ignored her, pushing her straight, dark hair over her shoulder. “Don’t be silly. Your father isn’t going to divorce your mother. Seriously, it’s a bluff.”

Charlotte smiled. “Would you look at that? There’s at least one thing you don’t know anything about.”

Annabelle hummed, trying very hard to remain calm and disinterested. She failed.

Charlotte bared her teeth. “You don’t know my dad.”

Annabelle rolled her eyes. “No one knows your father.”

Charlotte nodded, eyes on Hadrien, lest he hear more than he should. “That’s not one hundred percent true. I mean he is the eldest son of one of the founding families of this city, a descendant of the first Creole governor of Louisiana. He’s a philanthropist, an expert in his field, he’s active in all the right circles. Everyone knows my father. My father just doesn’t cast pearls before pigs.” 

“Pigs?” Annabelle sucked in a breath and looked down at her hands, trying to school her emotions. “And yet, even the illustrious de Vilierés needed the Beauregards-“

Charlotte laughed. “We didn’t need the Beauregards. My mother made what she thought was a calculated bet. She put her money on the wrong horse, hence the divorce.”

“What horse should she have betted on?”

Charlotte grinned. “Me.”

Annabelle swallowed. “Seems to me that the de Vilierés aren't as prominent as they used to be. Seems to me that she bet on the only horse she had.” She simpered. “After all, the shame was only narrowly avoided. If she had not acted so soon… well, one shudders to think.”

“Must not shudder often, huh?”

Annabelle shot her a nasty glance. Charlotte returned it.

“I just think y’all are awfully big in your britches, considering…”

“Considering, what?” Charlotte challenged. “Quit pussyfooting and say it.”

Annabelle demurred.

Charlotte nodded, sighing. “See now… That’s how I know just how prominent my family is. You wanna drop hints and flirt with what you think is true, but you are too coward to say it. You lack conviction. I doubt you really believe the shit in your mouth. It’s just fodder for your imagined superiority.” Charlotte shrugged and returned Annabelle’s earlier malicious grin. “But then, maybe you just don’t know. Just like you don’t know my dad. You don’t run in the right circles. You want to, for sure. Badly. Desperately. You spend too much money -more than the rumor mill says you have- on dresses for balls and cotillions hosted by social circles you’ll never be welcomed in, to climb a ladder you can only get so high on.”

Annabelle shrunk back.

Charlotte didn’t press forward. Her posture remained loose and unbothered. “Just remember, Annie, my family built the ladder you’re trying to climb. I firmly believe everyone deserves a chance to try to climb the ladder, but knocking us off won’t get you any closer to the top any faster.”

“How egalitarian of you.” She sneered

Charlotte shook her head. “It’s not equality per say, but desire for quality competition. Can’t know how good I am if I don’t know how good my competition is. As it is, I’m not sure I have competition.”

Annabelle flushed. “See, the problem with y’all is-“

Charlotte hummed, cutting her off and set the book in her hand back on the shelf. “The problem is you decided to make my life momentarily difficult instead of minding your damn business. The problem is you’re boxin’ outta your weight class. Shoulda kept your mouth shut and you wouldn’t have embarrassed yourself. But then, the problem is that you got that inferiority complex gnawing at your brain. Makes it difficult to think, I reckon.”

“Charlotte.”

Charlotte turned over her shoulder, away from Annabelle’s slack-jawed stare, and smiled at her brother-in-law’s mother, her godmother.

“Bonjou, Mama Oya! Koman sa va?”

“Mo bon, babygirl.” Tall and ebony-skinned, Oya Dillioles glared down her nose at Annabelle with more regal dignity than any monarch the world over had ever possessed. “Mrs. Brennan.”

Annabelle just managed to not sneer. “Mrs-“

Charlotte tsked. “Madame.” She tilted her head, blonde ringlets tumbling over her shoulder. “I mean, you gotta know I ain’t about to let you address her recklessly.”

Annabelle locked her jaw. “Madame Dillioles.”

Charlotte smiled. “That’s better.”

Oya hummed and turned sharply away from the fuming brunette. Leaning down, she placed a kiss on each of Charlotte’s cheeks. Charlotte stretched up to return the gesture.

Oya shifted so she was standing full in front of Annabelle. “Charlie, cher, I was on my way to the Shop and felt faint. I was hoping you and my strapping, young grand-baby could walk me over, if y’all were done here?”

Charlotte fought back a smile, knowing full well that Oya Dillioles had never felt faint a day in her life. Charlotte would unhesitatingly put money on her living forever. 

“Of course, Mama. We’re meandering that way.” Charlotte called over to Hadrien, who stood from where he had been inspecting a low shelf of books. “Baby, is there anything you wanted to buy? We’re gonna walk over to the Shop with Mama Oya.”

“No, I’m good. I didn’t see anything that we don’t already have at the house.” Hadrien approached with a bright smile, giving Annabelle Brennan a wide berth. “Hey, Mimi!”

Oya’s smile was beaming as she reached up for Hadrien’s peach-fuzzed cheek. “I see you everyday, baby, and I swear you get taller every time. Just the spittin’ image of your Grandpa and Uncle.”

Hadrien beamed and stopped ever so slightly to press a kiss to his de facto grandmother’s cheek.

They left without glancing at Annabelle Brennan. Meandering idly, Hadrien regaled Mama Oya and Charlotte with a complicated potion he had been helping his uncles with all summer.

“Nonc Ogun said that my-“ he stopped short in front of a beignet shop. “Do you think they’ve eaten?” 

“Your uncles?” Charlotte glanced at her watch. “I doubt it. It’s only 10:30, baby.”

“I’ll get them coffee and some pastries then. Be back in a second.” 

Charlotte smiled. “Get me a coffee too, H. Mama Oya?”

Mama Oya pinched Hadrien’s cheek. “Me too, baby. Thank you.”

When Hadrien was clear of the door, Mama Oya glanced down at Charlotte. “You shouldn’t let her get to you.”

Charlotte smiled. “She doesn’t. I’ve known her all my life and the worst she can do is try to taunt me about my divorce? A divorce I wanted and instigated?” Charlotte grinned. “Pathetic. I ain’t worried about her.”

Oya hooked her hand in Charlotte’s elbow. “Who then? Who are you worried about?”

“My son, me, all of my family including the Dillioles..” Charlotte shrugged. “I love NOLA, it’s in my blood-“

“But?”

Charlotte sighed. “But I’m not sure how much longer I can be here without hexing someone into the next century.”

Oya frowned. “Are people harassing you? If so, I can get Amadioha or Eshu to walk around with you.”

“No… that’s not necessary. They both have more important things to be doin’ than babysitting me.”

Oya clicked her tongue. “They would happy -proud- to keep their Auntie Charlie safe, you know that, especially if you’re being harassed.”

“It’s not that bad.” Charlotte sighed. “People mostly just stare or make little snide comments. I kinda wish someone would try something. Give me a reason.” Charlotte caught her eyes. “I just- I’m done. I don’t have it in me to pretend anymore. To show people only what they want. To allow them to spew shit about situations they know nothing about without retaliation. It’s killin’ me.”

Oya nodded. “You’ve never been good at politicking, playing nice. Straight to the point. It’s one of the reasons we should’ve known that you didn’t want to be with him. That there was more going on.”

Charlotte shook her head. “I worked real hard for a long time to keep y’all out of it. I just wish I had said something sooner.”

Oya nodded. “I know, baby, I know.”

“I just don't know if I can be me here. Everyone already has an opinion here. About me, about the family, about the divorce. I feel like I’m suffocating.” She sighed. “I'm trying to make it to January but I don’t know if I can.”

“When Hadrien turns eighteen.” 

Charlotte nodded. “I have an interview. I haven’t told anyone yet.”

“For a job?” 

“Yeah, with a school out in the UK.”

“Hogwarts?” Oya whistled. “Ain’t that somethin’?”

Charlotte swallowed. “They’ve finished fixing up the school after the- after and the Headmistress was their transfiguration professor so they need a new one.”

Oya smiled and pinched at her cheek. “Well, I’ll miss you for sure, but I can’t think of a better person to take over a transfiguration professorship.”

Charlotte turned wide, vulnerable eyes on Oya. “Are you sure?”

Oya pressed a kiss to Charlotte’s forehead. “Never been surer about anythin’, cher. You are the best transfiguration master I’ve ever met.”

Charlotte breathed deep and nodded. “One thing that would make it easier, tell you what. Once Dad’s divorce is final…”

Oya sucked on her tongue. “Hush you.”

Charlotte grinned. “Gotta get rid of your boy toys though.”

Oya pursed her lips to tamp down her smile.

**

Charlotte yawned and glanced at her watch. 

6:00 am. Goddamn.

She could barely keep her eyes open as she dropped her portkey into the waiting basket, set down the bird cage in her hands and stepped off the platform. 

This is bullshit. People don’t actually exist at this hour.

She looked around quietly, hoping to catch sight of not only the customs office, but also a coffee shop? Or at least someone who could tell her where to find one?

She sighed upon seeing the customs office, sans coffee, and made her way towards the line she could already see forming, catching a brief glimpse of herself in a large decorative mirror. 

She winced, taking in her bedraggled appearance.  

As per normal, her blonde hair was a mess of frizzy ringlets, her blue eyes tired and clouded over the bags that normally haunted the sleepless. To top it off, she hadn't really even bothered to get dressed beyond a faded t-shirt and a pair of cuffed, faded blue jeans that had once been dark. It just seemed too much effort to get all dressed up for traveling and the inevitable errands she had to run.

She shivered. It was full-summer sweltering, bordering on hellish in NOLA. She had worked up a sweat walking from the car to the porkey office in NOLA not thirty minutes ago. She would have to dig a sweater out of one of her bags at first opportunity.

She swallowed dryly and set her shoulders. She was a de Vilierè. She could do this.

She felt her posture collapse, the energy required to keep upright almost too taxing on her frayed nervous system. 

I’m not sure I’m human currently, much less me.

She pinched the bridge of her nose feeling the caffeine headache starting up.

There was so much to do after she finished fighting her way through the red tape. There were new clothes to buy, books to peruse, money to exchange and bank vaults to set up. She then had to portkey to some remote town in Scotland and become acquainted with the school that she would be living in for the foreseeable future.

She sighed and shook off a raging headache and a distinct sense of melancholy. Best get to work.

**

After an hour waiting in the line at the customs desk in the British Ministry's International Portkey Office, she imagined she had seriously considered casting nearly dozen unforgivables, a great majority of them directed at either the execrably slow customs officer or the man in front of her that sported excruciatingly severe body odor.

It took a further fifteen minutes of abject torture before the man in front of her moved away from the counter and cleared the way.

To be fair, she tried valiantly to put on a smile and remember the manners society expected of her, but upon reaching the front of the line, the portly woman found there launched into a laundry list of items that the Ministry had deemed 'restricted.' 

No hello. No good morning. Just a list of vegetables and restricted potions ingredients.

It took another ten minutes and all of her easily exhausted patience, after pulling nearly all of her worldly possessions out of her bespelled satchel, to convince the officer that she was carrying none of the restricted items  in her luggage.

Finally, after checking the last item off her list, the witch turned back to her and held out one chubby hand. “Hand me your wand, Ms. de Vilieré.”

Charlotte raised a blonde eyebrow in response, both at the butchering of her name (de Vil-ear) and the idea of placing what amounted to a part of her soul into the hand of a customs officer who she doubted would treat it with the respect it deserved. Knowing it would get her nowhere, she relented and handed her the wand.

The woman examined the wand carefully and then measured it, calling back to one of her cronies, “Yew, ten inches, with...” She paused and cast a spell on the wand, “A snake's scale.” She shot Charlotte a skeptical look. “You yanks believe that snake scales hold magical properties?”

Charlotte smiled frostily, her deep south accent deepening further (if that was even possible) in irritation. “It's not just any snake, it's Li Grand Zombi and it does hold magical properties or it wouldn't be in my wand.”

“It's a zombie snake?” The woman guffawed. “I'll believe it when I see it.” 

“I can demonstrate if y’want.”

The woman froze, staring at her from under her lashes. “No, mum, it’s not necessary.” 

Charlotte simpered. “If you’re sure.”

She cleared her throat and gave the wand an experimental flick, turning her back on Charlotte. “Yew, ten inches, springy and with a zombie snake's scale at the heart.”

A red-headed man sat behind her and stared at Charlotte from behind a set of clerical file drawers. “Got it, Matilda.”

Matilda cast an appraising look at Charlotte and whispered, a bad parody of sotte voce. “Though, I reckon she’s not the type we’d be wantin’ ‘ere after You Know Who.”

The man nodded. “Yew wood and a snake core. Bad omens, they are.”

Charlotte grit her teeth. “Can I please have my wand back, Matilda?”

Matilda looked uncomfortable and handed back her wand. “Here y’go, mum.” She nodded, awkward anxiety written in her posture. “You’re done ‘ere, mum. Passport control and visas are two floors up.”

Charlotte thanked her quietly as she accepted her wand. She made to leave and paused. “For the record, Voldemort didn’t have nothin’  on some of our racist madmen.” Charlotte delighted in their shivers, fighting down her conscience. “And I’m an absolute pussycat compared to them. Adieu.”

She didn’t get far before regretting her ill temper. She’d be lucky to make it to Hogwarts at this rate. Matilda was probably calling the passport office right now.

Tossed out because I couldn’t watch my mouth. Who’da thunk?

Charlotte glanced up at the clock and cussed under her breath. She made her way towards where she assumed the elevators were. She had at least another hour of bureaucracy and red tape before she could do something fun.

Three hours later, she was sitting on a bench in the middle of the now-bustling Portkey Authority, trying valiantly to fight of the wave of sleepiness that had latched onto her mind with a vengeance as soon as she stopped moving.

As it were, she was quickly falling into a light doze when an indignant squawk broke its way through the fog of sleepiness.

“Hermés, shh.”

The squawking did not stop and the bird-cage sitting next to her on the bench shook violently. Charlotte sighed a little and, with a small indulgent smile, twisted around to find her steadily over-filled satchel on the other side of the bench next to her. She pulled out a bird treat and moved the leather cover out of the way looking at the falcon within.

She offered the treat as one would offer a peace treaty and got a hearty nip to her forefinger for her trouble.

“Yeah, yeah, screw you too, bitch. You never stay angry for long, and you know it.” She reached into the cage and smoothed the ruffled feathers on the falcon’s head, before retrieving another bird treat.

“I don't mean to intrude, mum, but are you Charlotte de Vilierè?”

Vil-i-ear. She shrugged. It was better.

Charlotte started and turned toward the representative of the Authority she somehow missed approaching. “Um yeah, that’s me.”

The short man cleared his throat. “Well, we are ready when you are, ma’am.”

“Yeah. Okay.” She took a deep breath and grabbed Hermés’ cage. “Let's go.”

**

Charlotte took another deep breath of clean, cool air, trying really hard to not jostle Hermés in his cage. She looked around Hogsmeade slowly, taking in what amounted to a tiny sleepy village in its full summer splendor. The sun was bright, the foliage green and the air cool and clean, a startling difference to the muggy, sweltering heat of New Orleanian summers. 

She took another deep breath to savor the beauty around her and stepped further onto the street.

“Oh and yeh must be the new professor!”

Charlotte started and turned towards the large man standing next to a carriage. She nodded slowly watching as the man began to walk towards her. He shot her a broad grin, then stuck a hand out.

“Th' name is Hagrid, I teach Care of Magical Creatures. Nice ta meet yeh, Professor.”

Charlotte felt her body relax, smiling easily and slipping her hand into his. “Charlotte de Vilieré. Nice to make your acquaintance.”

Smiling, he reached for the bird cage in her hand and relieved her of her satchel as well. He bowed slightly and opened the door for her. “Go ahead, then. Get in the carriage. I'll be taking yeh up to the grounds.”

She nodded again and made for the carriage quickly. “Um thank you.”

He smiled and nodded then followed her into the carriage, setting Hermés on the ground between them. “You're welcome.” He settled back and shifted around her until he was comfortable. “So where are you from, Professor? The headmistress said you were from across the pond, but was mum as to where exactly.” A small self-deprecating smile flitted across his face. “Probably guessed we wouldn't have no clue what she was talking about anyways.”

Charlotte smiled softly.  “I'm from New Orleans, Louisiana.” At his look of confusion, she clarified. “It's in the South, along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico.”

Hagrid nodded enthusiastically. “Mardi Gras, right? I don’t rightly know where that is but I've heard about Mardi Gras. I probably coulda guessed that you were from the South from your accent.”

She chuckled lightly. “It is rather distinct. Maybe when I am settled in I can show you New Orleans on a map.”

“I would like that, professor.” Hagrid smiled broadly again. “So you're gonna be takin' over teachin' Transfiguration?”

“Um, yes. I'll be teaching Transfiguration and taking over a couple of the Arithmancy classes so that Professor Vector, I believe, can do more research.”

The sound of gates swinging open cut off the rest of the conversation.

“We're here.”

**

“This here is Professor Snape, our Deputy Headmaster. He'll be showin' yeh around Hogwarts.” Hagrid smiled brightly and motioned to the dour-looking man in all black standing on the steps of the school. As if sensing her anxiety, he whispered from somewhere over her head, and took Hermés’ birdcage from her hand. “I know he looks a fright, but he's a war-hero. Never met someone as brave ‘n trustworthy as the professor. Man deserves to be a little grumpy after what all happened. I’ll take your owl and your bags to your quarters.”

She nodded absently, choosing not to mention that he didn’t look a ‘fright’. He wasn’t smiling, sure, looked to be pretty ticked to be standing there, but that wasn’t the problem. 

She had done her research and knew who Severus Snape was. She knew to expect some curmudgeon-esque behavior. His personality had been extensively reported on, but so had his deeds, his skill, his intelligence. 

Severus Snape was capable and, while she knew she was intelligent and the Headmistress had been impressed with her, seventeen years trapped in a marriage had done little for her professional confidence. The imposter syndrome was kicking her ass. 

That and he was attractive. Sure, he wasn’t Brad Pitt or Leonardo DiCaprio, but she’d never been really interested in conventional. He was tall and intense and wore intelligence and ambition like armor. 

It had been a long while since she’d felt any type of attraction for anyone. It was enough to set her nerves on edge.

And honestly, she probably looked like she had been dragged backwards through a swamp. Bedraggled and disheveled.

Her mother’s voice came to her unbidden. Really Lottie. Put more effort into how you look. That’s your job as a wife, to be ornamental. He didn’t marry you for your brain.

Maybe if you took being Beau’s wife more seriously he wouldn’t-

She shook herself free of that memory and started up the stairs toward the tall man. She wiped her hands on her jeans, hoping he didn’t see, knowing by his sneer that he did. “Hello, Professor Snape. I am Charlotte de Vilieré.”

One black eyebrow rose as a pair of black eyes looked down in disgust at her hand. His eyes flickered back up to hers and he intoned a brief: “I'm aware.”

She breathed deep. So it begins. “‘Course.”

He hummed. 

Her jaw clenched slightly, before she forced herself to relax. “Nice to meet you.”

“I'm sure.” He sighed negligently and waved her into the castle. “Shall we? The Headmistress thinks it a good idea that I show you around the school.” His tone left no room for imagination as to his feelings on the matter. 

She sighed and followed after him, noting with more than a little resignation, that he seemed determined to lose her. At maybe six-three or six-four and towering a foot-plus over her not particularly impressive five-two, he had a much longer stride and used it to his advantage. He was in the building before she even had time to clear the first level of stairs.

Breathing deeply, she scampered behind him. Once in the building - the castle, good god, where am I?- she became easily distracted by the architecture, the smell, the feel of the place. Nothing in NOLA, as opulent and storied as it was, could compare to this.

He stopped abruptly, she almost ran full-tilt into his back, and turned towards her, watching in sarcastic amusement as she put a hand to her chest and huffed a shaky, “Shit.”

“Having problems keeping up, Ms. de Vilieré?”

What a dick. She glared at him and stood up straight. “Please continue, Professor.”

The smirk fell from his face, indicating that she had likely said that out loud. She flushed and felt a brief stab of something more than anxiety as he appraised her with dark eyes. 

He seemed to come to some decision and turned away, drawling a quiet: “Indeed.”

Turning toward the giant doors in front of them, one large hand came out from the depths of his pockets with a wand. A negligent flick of his wrist later and the doors opened.

She followed him into the room and looked up at the enchanted ceiling silently, awestruck by the sheer complexity of the charms needed to pull something like that off.

“Do close your mouth, Ms. de Vilieré. It is rude to gape.” He shot her a smug look and continued to walk further into the room. “This is the Great Hall...”

After that she found it rather hard to concentrate on what he was saying. Somewhere in between imagining a dozen or so wordless, wandless jinxes she could throw at him, she completely zoned out.

She was just considering the mathematics behind a wandless color change spell, when the subject of these musings cleared his throat.

“Ms. de Vilieré, if you would kindly listen when I speak to you.” 

With a swift shake of the head, the woman rejoined the world of the living and stared up at the very tall man in black with tired eyes, realizing yet again just how tired she was. She sighed and rubbed a hand over her face, chastising herself. She seriously considered attempting to throw a jinx at the man just because he was being a little ornery.

“Professor Snape?” A sour look passed over his face briefly as he waited for her to continue. Her accent was thick with exhaustion and she was sure she looked a mess, but she struggled to focus on his disapproving black eyes for more than a few seconds. “I know that it's pretty late in the afternoon here, and that by all rights I should be as cheerful as you, but,” she paused to yawn, peeking with one eye over the hand shielding her mouth at the glowering man, “But I have not stopped goin' since midnight and I need to sleep desperately.”

He looked down his long nose at her, black eyebrow raised in disdain. “I see. In that case, I will show you to your quarters. Will that suffice?”

She nodded mid-yawn before adjusting her tote on her shoulder. “By all means, lead the way.”

He nodded curtly and turned sharply on his heel. “This way, Professor.”

**

When next he saw her, this time hours later at staff dinner, she looked if possible, even more ridiculous. She seemed to be wearing the same trousers as she had been wearing this afternoon, wrinkled as if she had fallen asleep in them, accompanied by an over-large gray sweatshirt, with the word ‘Saints’ emblazoned across the front in garish gold lettering. Her curly blonde hair was free of the ponytail it had been in earlier and had formed a cloud around her head that made her look like an overgrown mushroom.

A beautiful mushroom, to be honest, with an alluring, impressively glowing recommendation from Minerva and a surname that tickled at his memory for some god forsaken reason. 

But a mushroom, nonetheless. 

She approached the table timidly, with the near imperceptible scuff of trainers on stone, and made for the only open seat, the one directly across from him.

The table fell silent, even Rolanda and Lupin choosing to forgo their rather obnoxiously loud discussion of quidditch in lieu of watching the tiny, blushing woman take her seat.

Minerva cringed slightly at the woman's less-than-professional appearance, before forcing a thin, polite smile on her face. She cast a look at Severus and he knew immediately that she was warning him to play nice. “And how did your travels go, Professor de Vilieré?”

“Charlotte’s fine.” The woman smiled, her hair arranging itself into a neat bun of its own accord. 

Wandless and wordless. Severus shrugged it off, it was likely a spell she had been using most of her life. Proficiency was a given. 

“It went alright, I guess, Headmistress. Thanks for askin’. I'm exhausted but I reckon I'll be right as rain in the morning.” She shrugged with a self-deprecating smile. “And more put together too.”

Minerva responded with a pleasantry he didn't care to catch and the woman responded in kind with a soft smile and soft admonition he couldn’t make out. 

As she spoke recounting some particular or another about her journey, he allowed himself to listen to the odd cadence of her voice. Her voice was soft and her accent thick and drawling, lacking the staccato rhythm of the Minerva’s brogue and brusque quality of his own voice, but there was something annoyingly pleasant about it.

Like almost everything else about her, he decided it was irritating. She was a lesson in extremes. She was too short, her hair too wild, her jumper too garish and her accent too American. She couldn't just be average.

That thought led into another rather interesting thought. Why was it that this blasted school couldn't hire anyone normal? 

“Severus!” A long fingered hand landed on his sleeve heavily. “Are you quite alright, dear?”

Severus snapped to attention and focused on Minerva. “Yes.”

“What has you so distracted?” She retracted her hand.

He sighed, frustrated that he had been caught lost in his thoughts. “It is of no importance.” He caught de Vilieré’s eyes and grunted, looking down at his food.

**

“That jumper, Ms. de Vilieré, may I assume that it is in...support, shall we say, of a sports team?” Despite his polite, maybe even pleasant, phrasing, the deep baritone of his voice dripped with sarcasm. He didn’t like her or her sweater and desired that she knew it.

The asshole.

She looked up from the mush she had made on her plate and caught his arched eyebrow with one of her own, and spoke in a deliberately cheerful voice, nodding. “The New Orleans Saints. They are my hometown’s professional football- American Football- team.” She deliberately ignored his contemptuous look.

“Ahh,” he drawled, smirking slightly. “Muggle football, I’d suspect.”

She breathed deep, trying to steady herself. “Yeah, it’s a no-maj sport.”

“Not Quidditch?” Professor Hooch frowned. “Do Americans play quidditch?”

“Some people are into it. There’s a club league in NOLA that my brother-in-law tried out once. Quidditch is more popular up north, I think. The South has been obsessed with Football as long as people have been playing it.” Charlotte smiled. “To be honest, I don't think I've ever watched Quidditch. I’m not really a sports girl."

Snape arched an eyebrow. "Then why the jumper, I wonder?"

Charlotte shrugged, watching as the Headmistress shot Snape a look. "I think my brother gave me this sweater, to be honest, or my dad.”

Professor Hooch looked scandalized. “Did you play quidditch at Ilvermorny?”

Charlotte smiled. “I didn’t go to Ilvermorny. The US is a very large country. Most states have their own school or schools. I went to the Convent - the Lafreniere School of Magic in New Orleans. The no-majs believe the school buildings are an old Ursuline Convent. Most still call it the Convent rather than by the school’s official name. Everyone in my family went there and it’s, like, right around the corner from our house. My dad wouldn’t have felt too secure sending his children that far from home.”

“It’s not a boarding school?” Professor Lupin leaned forward.

Charlotte rubbed at her face. Their questions were to be expected but this level of social engagement was exhausting her already rock bottom stores of energy. “No. Most schools in the States don’t board their students. Ilvermorny does and I think there’s a boarding school out in California.”

“I’ve heard that Americans often pursue higher education. Did you attend university?”

Charlotte winced imperceptibly, having dreaded this question. “I had planned to. Life got complicated around the end of my time at the Convent.”

“Complicated?” Snape drummed the pad of his middle finger against the table, dark eyes on her.

Charlotte nodded. “Complicated. I decided it would be more feasible to pursue apprenticeship in my chosen fields.”

“Complicated how?” 

She turned back to Snape and considered him quietly. “Complicated enough that it derailed many of my personal plans.”

He caught her eyes and held them for a long moment.

“How interesting.” The Headmistress smiled, sensing the rising tension. “The differences in culture are astounding.”

She blinked and he looked down.

Sprout leaned forward, ignoring her. “I’ve heard about something called Mardi Gras?”

Mar-tee Grass. Jesus Christ. 

Charlotte chuckled but didn’t correct her. “It’s one of the things New Orleans is famous for. It means Fat Tuesday. It’s the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday.” 

“Ash Wednesday?”

Professor Snape sighed. “The Wednesday before the start of Lent.”

He was met with blank stares. He caught Charlotte’s eyes. “The forty days before Easter. Meant as a time of repentance. Catholics observe it.”

Professor Sprout turned back to her. “Are you Catholic?” 

The look on her face must have been unedited because Professor Lupin chuckled. 

She marshaled herself and made a so-so motion with her hands. “Culturally, I guess. I did all the sh- rites that were expected of me. But I haven’t willingly stepped inside a church in years.” She shrugged. 

“Why did you do all the rites if you don’t think you believe it?”

“Pomona!”

Charlotte nodded at the Headmistress. “It’s okay. It was expected of me, given my cultural heritage and family. I don’t know of any member of a Creole family that would risk social censure by rejecting Catholicism. You just do it, take Communion, light the candle, get it over with. Grease the wheels and all that.”

“How do you know about Lent, Severus?” Pomona turned to Snape with curious eyes. 

“I was raised Catholic.” Snape nodded to Charlotte. “Similarly to Ms. de Vilierè, I did all the shite that was expected of me and no longer practice.”

“I didn’t know that about you, Severus.” Flitwick hummed, kind smile on his face. “What did you mean by Creole, Charlotte?”

“Being of French heritage from the city of New Orleans.” 

“And being Catholic is part of being Creole?”

“I think it’s widely assumed to be essential to being Creole.” 

“You would disagree?” Severus watched her quietly.

“I don’t think it matters if I agree.” She sighed. “New Orleanian magical communities are very… culture-bound and committed to maintaining tradition. As a result, these communities retain a lot of the historical prejudices that the no-maj communities have lost to some extent. My family is Creole and, outside of school, I didn’t really socialize with people who weren’t. Creoles live in the Quarter and go to Mass at St. Louis, Americans live across Canal Street and attend church at First Magical Baptist, the Irish live in the Channel and go to their local Catholic church, and so on. If I had wanted to change that, make a different decision, -hell, if I had wanted to move out of the Quarter- the social pressure would’ve been intense.”

“Americans? Aren’t you all American?” Lupin smiled.

“Now, yes, but again, the Creole magical community holds to a lot of older, traditional prejudices. There’s a pecking order- a superiority complex. We were the original colonists. I’ve always been taught to identify as Creole first, American second.” 

“What’s Cajun?”

Charlotte blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“What does the word Cajun refer to?” 

Charlotte’s smile felt tight. “Of French heritage from outside of the city.”

Professor Binns nodded. “I thought it was food.”

Charlotte breathed deep. “It means that too.”

The Headmistress sighed loudly and set her hands on the table with some amount of finality. “I think we’ve all asked too much of our new colleague already. She’ll be here past today so you can ask more questions at a later date.”

Professor Sinistra smiled. “New Orleans sounds fascinating.”

Charlotte ducked her head. “NOLA is unlike anywhere else in the US. It’s truly unique.”

“Why are you in Scotland then, I wonder?”

The air left the room with a whimper. The Headmistress rubbed at her face.

Charlotte nodded, biting at her lip, glancing over at Snape. There was a part of her that wanted to be honest and another, larger part that wanted to meet his sarcasm head-on. 

The latter part won. 

“The weather.”

Professor Sprout snorted.

He hummed, eyes on hers. “You’ll be disappointed then.”

She chuckled. “I already am. It was summer when I left NOLA this morning. I should’ve kept a jacket out when I packed. ‘Bout near froze.”

“Disappointed and of delicate constitution.” Snape sighed dramatically. “You’re not likely to last long here.”

The Headmistress's jaw clenched. “Severus.”

“I’m cold-natured, sure.” She shrugged, smiling the edgy little smile that used to irritate Beau. Despite the obvious being exactly what she meant, she clarified for the sake of professionalism. “I do get cold easily, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m delicate.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I wouldn’t worry about my longevity, I have survived much more frigid climes. I’m tougher than I look.”

Severus made a face that communicated clearly that he didn’t believe her. “I’m sure.”

She hummed. She wasn’t going to let him goad her into revealing more about herself than she was ready to share.

Professor Lupin glanced between the two of them. “At the risk of being nosy, why did you decide to move to Scotland?”

She considered Professor Lupin and saw Snape watch her out of the corner of her eye. After a moment, she shrugged. “The magical community of NOLA isn’t small, per say, but it is insulated and very interconnected.“ She paused and looked at Snape again. “I felt a little stifled at home, I guess. Needed a new environment.”

“A new environment for what?” Snape traced the wood grain of the table with a single long finger.

She bit back the urge to shock him with an absurd lie. “To grow, develop. A bit like a houseplant, I needed a new pot.”

Professor Sprout made a pleased sound.

“You felt stifled in a city with the culture and history you’ve spent the last hour describing?” He demurred sarcastically. “Your new pot may be a mite small.”

“I’m sure it’ll be alright. After all, it seems big enough for the current residents.” She lowered her chin, eyeing him from under her lashes. “If such illustrious company can grow to fit such a space, I’m sure I will do alright.”

Professor Lupin choked on his wine. Professor Flitwick dropped his silverware with a clatter. Hagrid froze as if he was in the presence of a predator.

“Touché, Ms. de Vilierè.” Snape nodded. 

Part 2

#severus snape #snape/oc #Severus Snape/oc #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #severus snape fanfiction #pro severus snape #fanon severus

[b0rista]

i don't really know how tumblr reqs works but you write for marco right ?? 🤩 can you write some hcs for him 😟😟 ( sorry if I sound rude or dry 😭😭😭 )

— 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐓.

WARNINGS: language.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: NONFOGNO it wasn't rude or dry at all!! lowkey i got super excited reading this because LAWD i've been wanting to write some marco dating hcs 🥺 i love him way too much like this isn't healthy bye

"you don't get it— you had my heart before i was even given the chance to refuse."

without a doubt, marco's shirt was tailored with the utmost boyfriend material. this may anger some of y’all, but out of the men of the 104th, this man has to be one of the best when it comes to relationships. the epitome of perfection, dare i say. beautiful boy. 

there was probably a lot of pining going on before the two of you decided to get together, if we’re being honest. during your three years of cadet training, marco’s crush on you was absolutely and utterly hopeless. at least, that’s what he thought. the guys didn’t do much to help, either. instead of encouraging him, they teased him. after all, who the hell’s dumb enough to fall in love in a place like this? after all, you’re practically training for your own death. and while marco knew that, that didn’t make his feelings toward you any less intrusive. even while watching you swing from tree to tree during ODM training, he still caught himself gawking at your absolite effortless beauty, earning himself quite the scolding from his own conscious. hell, one time, you caught him staring at you during training, and he face planted into a tree. that time, it was commander shadis that gave him the scolding. which,, is always terrifying. 

before and during your guys’ relationship, marco’s love language is an endless amount of consolation. of course, this goes for everyone, but especially you. seeing you hopless is something that he doesn’t ever want to have to say, so with that being said, he does everything in his power to keep your spirits lifted. and if you’re ever down, he’ll know. you can’t hide your feelings from this man, he’s far too intuitive for his own good. and even if you’re fine, he’ll still go above and beyond with his words of affirmation. it’s who he is. 

during your trainee days, you spent a lot of time with him, jean, sasha, and connie. no matter the circumstances, that was your crowd. really, it was just a huddle of idiot teenagers half-assedly working to become soldiers. even so, they were the ones that got you through it. 

^ honestly, if it weren’t for marco’s constant encouragement, you likely would have quit the training to go work on the farmlands. whenever you tell him that, though, he sheepishly shuts you down, contradicting his own denial through the very thing that made you a shoulder.

“you’re giving me too much credit, y’know. i may have chipped in, but it was you that got you to where you are now. it always was, and it always will be.” 

yeah, this freckled bastard is your go-to therapist. half of the time, you don’t even go to him for help; he comes to you. it’s like he has this sense, or something- no matter how far apart the two of you are, he can feel whenever it is you’re unhappy. perhaps his intuition is just that good, or the two of you are simply soulmates, linked together through delicate intertwinement. quietly, marco believes the latter. back to the main topic of discussion, though. one of his main objectives is to solve whatever problems you may have, even if they have absolutely nothing to do with him. no matter the circumstances, it’s his duty to keep that sweet, soothing smile on your face. without it, his world is dull. 

love letters. yeah, that’s right. for his safety within the boy’s barracks, he’s asked that you keep them a secret,, but marco writes you one to two love letters a month. it isn’t a dramatic amount, and they aren’t all that lengthy, but they never fail to get you to swoon. he’s got a way with words, and when it comes to the likes of you, they’re as passionate as ever. really, he could go on and on about you, page after page, and never find himself getting bored. with every fiber of his being, he’s absolutely smitten over you.

of course, though, the letters don’t start making an appearance until after the two of you establish your relationship. which, as always, i’ll leave that up to you! however, it was probably some time during the end of your time as cadet trainees. after three whole years of helplessly pining for you, i can see him gathering enough courage to actually confess to you. with jean’s encouragement, of course (even though it was more like pRessurinG plspls). 

it can get a little overbearing at times, but marco likes to try and help you with everything and anything. you can’t quite reach that top shelf? don’t worry, he’s got you. struggling with your gear? alright, what’s the problem, he’ll fix it. you’re taking an extra moment to count horses, and he’s already rushing to lend a helping hand. at some point, you’ll have to communicate that although it’s sweet that he’s always trying to make things easier for you, he’ll have to give you the chance to actually learn a thing or do. once you do, he’ll take literally everything into consideration, and try his hardest to stop himself whenever there’s a possible learning exercise in your way. 

cheek kisses! an endless amount, at that. out of everywhere on your body, marco favors your cheeks, if he could, he’d pepper them in kisses all day long. unfortunately, though, he can’t, so he’ll stick to sneaking in little pecks in between every other hour of the day. the two of you live for those moments where he cups either side of your face, plants a sweet kiss onto your cheek, and rushed back to finish whatever it was he was meant to be doing. as expected, they always manage to leave you craving more. 

ah, jean. the third wheel you never fucking asked for. he’s such a pest, and marco refuses to get rid of him, literally ever. with that being said, he’s practically an honorary member of your guys’ relationship. the amount of times you and marco have been cozied up together on the sofa only to be very rudely interrupted by jean sLipping in between the two of you is ridiculous. you and your boyfriend have cancelled dates for this man, simply because he doesn’t want to be alone. typically, it’s jean giving marco the puppy dog eyes, and then in suite, marco giving you the puppy dog eyes, which you simply cannot resist. 

honestly, it’s nearly impossible to get this man jealous. you’ve tried, it should not be as difficult as it is. of course, i said nearly impossible. really, marco’s funny when he gets jelly. he isn’t overly edgy, or agGressive with you- he’s more,, chaotically conflicted. one night, you were feeling a bit more committed to the cause, so you mindlessly sat on reiner’s lap during dinner in the mess hall. marco, who was busy rough-housing with jean, choked. 

"iSTHATCOMFORTABLEORSOMETHING-"

reiner: 🧍‍♂️

during the quiet of the night, you enjoy tenderly kissing each and every one of his freckles you can see. starting with the ones dusted along his face, to his shoulders, to his arms, and so on. usually, marco's far too tired to fully react, but he's always softly smiling, silently admiring you while a hand tangles itself within the locks of your hair.

it's been confirmed that marco's a big brother, so that's definitely a thing. even if you've only been together for a short amount of time at this point, marco would want you to meet his family. after all, he's quite literally in love with you. why not start the formalities earlier than necessary? even if you don't make too good of an impression, he's sure that one day, his family will be one that you're apart of. he wouldn't have it any other way.

he's flustered easily. the smallest thing could happen, and he's red in the face, stumbling over his words, all of it. of course, you only find it endearing. rake your fingers through his hair while he's a blushing mess, you'll never get enough of it. beneath your touch, he crumbles.

one night, after a rougher session of training, you took hold of marco's busted and blistered knuckles, which had been dirtied on the field. while he thought nothing of it, you moved them to your lips, planting a sweet kiss along the bridge as a form of comfort. he absolutely melted, and it was the birth of a beautiful pattern. whenever his fists are battered, your kiss mends them right back together.

during chores, you and him tend to hum together in sync. it's a surprisingly pleasing harmony, and it's become a shared habit to make up silly melodies to hum to whenever you run out. and whenever you're in need of comfort, expect to hear him quietly humming one of the songs the two of you made up while softly rubbing your back. vice versa, as well.

one time, you raspberried his bare stomach. he's never felt so violated in his life. another time, he did the same to you, and the fact that you laughed? yeah, it's an often occurrence. raspberries are real in this relationship, bitch.

#attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot scenarios #aot headcanons #aot x reader #marco bodt #marco bodt x reader #marco bodt headcanons

[guacameowle]

Jumin Han’s Bad End 2 DLC - Notes / Opinion

Y’all know me. I have to take notes for everything I play or read or watch. I can’t help it. Here we have Jumin Han’s Bad End 2 DLC. The infamous bad end. The red shoes bad end. The “kinky” bad end, to some. Not my favorite bad end, but a memorable one. With that said, let’s dive in! Spoilers ahead!

Episode 1

This DLC has multiple endings! Interesting. Depending on how I answer will determine which end I get. This has me thinking there may be a way to get Jumin back onto a healthier relationship track? I will eventually aim to achieve both endings, though.

Jumin’s hand is fucking HUGE. MASSIVE. WHAT ARE THEY FEEDING HIM? Please hold while I scream at Kristan (jalaqueeno) about this. Holy shit.

It’s been one month since Jumin went to work. One whole month! Mr. Jumin Workaholic Han hasn’t gone to work in ONE MONTH! This man has made it his sole mission to keep you locked up & stay with you. Dude, like… why are you so obsessed with me~?

MANSION? They’re not in the penthouse anymore? I mean… there are worse cages to be kept in.

I am absolutely playing the answers that subtly suggest I am not ok with this new forced live-in situation.

HE’S TRACKING HOW MANY STEPS I’VE TAKEN. Wait until this man finds out I hate walking the mile…

Jumin continues to call this a game. Says he has a therapist on standby. Does he know that HE can use the therapist? In fact, I highly recommend it.

He says you can leave at any time. Color me suspicious. I don’t believe him for one second. How far is this “game” going?

MY PRECIOUS BABY DARLING SWEETIE PIE TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD WHOLESOME BEAUTY PERFECT CUPCAKE ELIZABETH 3RD HAS ARRIVED!

According to Jaehee, MC has been with Jumin for two months now.

Interesting how Jaehee makes a point to mention the mansion being untouched as this is where Jumin keeps his childhood toys. He brought you where he keeps his toys. Does he really see all of this as a game & you’re a toy? Can he snap out of it if you call for the game to end, or will there be backlash?

Some of these answer choices feel tricky. I’m trying to gently weasel my way out of this “game” without hurting anyone.

“Don’t say that to my master.” Listen, Jumin is my favorite man in this game, but that answer option physically made me cringe. Me? Call a man master? I could never. Not me. Not this bitch.

Wow. Ok. All this stuff with Jumin’s mom is moving fast. I can already see if he actually does lose her, it may make him hold onto MC that much more/harder. Maybe. 

Woah woah woah. I know Jumin is acting a little suspicious & out of sorts, BUT AIN’T NO ONE MARRYING HIM EXCEPT ME. ALL RIGHT? I’ll fight. I know where to get a bomb…

Excuse me? A fitness trainer? Yeah........ about that. I’m going to have to leave. Sorry this situation didn’t work out between us Juju. Best of luck, though!

Episode 2

My room is kind of cute! Wait, why the fuck aren’t Jumin & I sharing a room? If I’m locked up & tracked, you better believe I’m sleeping next to that dick.

Send a message to space? The fuck?

Oh. Duh.

“I heard that obsession comes from anxiety.” DING DING DING DING.

Omg Seven. You can’t just ask me to open my box. I’m seeing another man...

LONG HAIRED JUMIN?????

Jumin really didn’t have one woman in his life who wasn’t cold or weird to him. I know we already knew from his route he had a difficult upbringing. But I hadn’t expected them to dive into that aspect for this DLC but I can see how there’s the connection.

I told him I wanted to be alone to see if he’d respect boundaries.

OH SHIT THAT CHAPTER ENDED SO QUICK. DID I FUCK UP?!

Episode 3

So are we meant to see this adult Jumin, playing this “game” with MC, as him regressing within himself & falling back to enjoying fantasy? Avoiding reality? Something he didn’t allow himself to do as an actual child? He didn’t understand why people indulge in magic, fantasy, make-believe as a kid. Now he’s vastly overshot the mark to the point that this fantasy life with MC has become his “reality.”

DO NOT GIVE THIS BABY BOY WINE, I SWEAR TO GOD.

Omg. Little Jumin is so cute. I will fight everyone to protect him.

This woman done fucked up. Look at this child, you’ve given him anxiety. He doesn’t know if you want him to be mechanical or a normal kid. Jesus. All this Work Work Work No Emotion Work Only No Feelings bullshit is her fault. Jumin’s only doing what he was taught. He was told this is all he’s good for, all he was meant for.

“I feel like I am a tool. Sometimes I want to be treated like a son.” STOP. IF THIS GAME MAKES ME CRY. I’M GONNA FIGHT SOMEONE.

IF Y’ALL DON’T GIVE THIS LITTLE BOY THE LOVE & AFFECTION & CARE HE DESERVES

Jumin is obsessed with grape juice. Grows up to be obsessed with wine. Y’all made him an alcoholic.

“I am not like her. I will not be cold. I will be warm to my family…” JUMIIIIIN. THIS LITTLE BOY IS TRYING SO HARD! IT IS POSSIBLE JUMIN! AIM FOR YOUR GOOD & NORMAL ENDINGS!

SLEEPY JUMIN HAN CG

OH FUCK

OH FUCK ME

OH HELLO HUSBAND GODDAMN YOU LOOKIN’ CUTE AS FUCK

LET ME HOLD YOU JUMIN. YOU DESERVE TO BE LOVED & HELD & CARED FOR!

I think you have to choose the answers that gently pry you away from Jumin? He can’t force this relationship. It can’t be controlled by him. It isn’t a game. He needs to come to that realization, but he’s really not making that connection...

“I have never been involved in a deal outside a form of give-and-take.” Oh, that hurt. He doesn’t trust you to stay with him unless he can offer you something? His money/extravagance/keeping you in this “game” you started with him & him playing into it is what he has to do to keep you with him.

“Please show me that you love me. I want to know what love is.” Insert Explicit MC x Jumin Fanfic Here. I’ll show you, Jumin. I’ll show you all night long.

*Jumin snuggled closer* In my own personal canon, that means we FUCKED. SLOWLY. GENTLY. ROMANTICALLY.

Episode 4

The creepy lullaby music started up. Shit is about to go down.

Omg is this butler going to lock me in the basement?

Lmao did I fuck up with the “what’s a cage doing here?” reply? How was I supposed to know there wasn’t actually a cage there? No Jumin, I don’t want a cage. …. at least not for me, but we can discuss that later.

SHE WOULD LOCK HIM IN THE BASEMENT? That’s it. I’m fighting everyone. Stay behind me Jumin, I’ll protect you.

“Let me talk to her! I’d like a word with her!” LET ME AT HER, JUMIN. I HAVE SOME SHIT TO SAY. SHE’S DYING. I HAVE A SHORT WINDOW. LET ME AT HER.

Not little boy Jumin Shawshank Redemptioning his way out of the basement omggggg

JUMIN YOU WANNA FUCK? NOW? This man is sending me through whirlwind of emotions.

OH SHIT. I’m torn between the “whisper in his ear” option or the “let’s change our roles for just today” because as y’all may know, I enjoy being in charge.

Me: “Let’s change our roles…” Jumin: “Uhhh maybe we should leave.” Darling, you know you’re a submissive. It’s ok. No judgement.

FADE TO BLAAAAACK. THEY FUCKIN’.

I’M HOOTIN’ & HOLLERING. After the fade the black I said I would stay in my own clothes & Jumin says, “They’re dirtier than you would think.” DID THIS MAN JUST CUM EVERYWHERE? LMAAAOOOO

Happy End!

Ayyy we did it, lads! Unlocked the happy ending first. Even though we already gave Jumin a happy ending in that basement, you know what I’m sayin’~

LMFAOOOOO JUMIN STILL CAN’T DRIVE LMFAOOOO

Wait, turned our backs on everything? How the fuck is this the happy end? Happy for who? Jumin?

So… what the fuck was that?

The good ending just reenforces this “only us” narrative? The good ending is that this “game” Jumin & MC are playing doesn’t end? Nothing resolves. He doesn’t mend any relationships. There’s no healing or moving on. He exerts more of his control on MC & takes more drastic measures to ensure they’re together.

WAIT. DID WE JUST FUCKING ABANDON ELIZABETH 3RD TOO? ABSOLUTELY NOT. THIS ENDING SUCKS. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? FUCK THAT. PISS OFF, JUMIN HAN. I WON’T HAVE THAT BULLSHIT. YOU DID NOT JUST TURN INTO A PET ABANDONER RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FUCKING FACE. I HATE IT. NO. I’M OUT.

The CG was hot, though. Jumin in black on black on black? AND GLOVES?! Hell yeah. That’s a whole meal right there. Delicious. 

Episode 1 (Attempt 2)

Well, time to try to get the bad end (????) now I guess. Maybe the bad end is that this game of their’s actually does break. That’s what I’m hoping for at least.

Jumin already making jokes about switching roles. Jumin, my love. I am more than happy - extremely willing & eager actually - to be in charge here.

Pretending to want all of this ‘being a possession’ nonsense is making me uncomfyyyy.

Episode 2 (Attempt 2)

“Do something Jumin wouldn’t like” Lmaooo it calls Zen. HAHAHAHAHA

I think Zen’s voice acting is some of the most expressive, in this whole game.

Ah, so then I guess turning on the computer let’s you talk to Yoosung.

Not Jumin deliberately cutting my call. The audacity.

Jumin, possessiveness can sometimes be cute. But in this case, I’m not having it. Not interested.

All the toys in the world didn’t keep Jumin entertained. BUT THIS PUSSY DOES.

Episode 3 (Attempt 2)

Flew through that one just choosing the options I didn’t choose before. Didn’t seem to glean any new information except the fact that Jumin no longer has a desire to form a family, says it entirely depends on how badly MC wants a family. Continues that narrative of, if MC wants it, he will provide it... to keep her.

Episode 4 (Attempt 2)

So we’re just going to leave gold bars in that safe?

Happy End Again????

It says I got Happy End again, even though I chose entirely different answers & went along with being Jumin’s possession...

OH WAIT, IT IS DIFFERENT!

I can’t believe my first meeting with Jumin’s mother is after he rawed me in the basement & had me put on a fantasy fairy tale princess dress to make our escape. Omfg. Ma’am, your son’s cum is still dripping out of me, please give me a few minutes to freshen up first. Goddamn.

Jumin’s mom is named Carolyn!

I can’t believe I’m in the middle of a family argument while Jumin’s cum glues my thighs together.

She ain’t sick. She’s lying. I’m calling it.

“Simple - make him soft” Jumin: “Like mashed potato?” LIKE MASHED POTATO? FIRST OF ALL, JUMIN SAYING ‘MASHED POTATO’ IS SO FUCKING CUTE I WANNA SCREAM. Secondly I meant, make him soft as in help him let down some barriers & let people in.

“I heard sons are psychologically bound to be attracted to women reminiscent of their mothers.” Ok yes, that may be true but you don’t have to remind me. Bleh. Stop.

“If my consort is to leave me one day, I will be scarred for the rest of my life.” I am sad for him. So sad.

ONE BILLION, TO BREAK UP WITH JUMIN? WOMAN, YOU ARE SOMETHING ELSE.

The “mind if I touch it” option fucking sent me. I’m laughing so hard. It is 1am. I might wake up my neighbor! I chose the “…..” option though. I’m sticking with Jumin through this. Let’s see what happens.

… I’ll loop back & choose the money if I can though to see what chaos occurs.

“This is exactly what people mean when they say, ‘So not cool.’” JUMIN. NOW IS NOT THE TIME LMFAOOOO

Jumin went back to work. All right, that’s progress. He renovated the basement on a happier note. Ok ok, small progress. 

“Now I wish to paint this entire place with our love.” TIME TO CHRISTEN EVERY ROOM WITH SEEEEX

THAT CG!!!!! AAAHHHHHHH!!!! WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW WOW!!!!!!

Looping back to choose more options for this episode...

CALLED JUMIN’S MOM AN OLD HAG & JUMIN LIKED WHEN I DID THAT LMAOOOO. I would like to call her a lot of things.

Final thoughts:

Long story short (too late), this DLC reenforces that this is a Bad Ending path, in which you won’t find a fix for Jumin, won’t find a way to get him back on track to his true good end. And that’s ok! This is a bad end after all! Though both endings are listed as “good” or “happy” endings, they’re still set in this twisted relationship, this weak form of love, Jumin believes is real. He calls it a game, says a therapist is on standby, says MC can leave any time she wants, yet when she chooses options that distances herself, suggests Jumin pay more attention to something other than her, or shows she’d like more freedom, he immediately blocks that path in some way. Even when choosing all the options that don’t give in to the plaything/being controlled role, the conclusion is Jumin reenforcing his control harder - you both escape together to be alone, neglecting everyone & everything in your life, & Jumin insists all he has to do is take care of you in various ways - to give you everything - to keep you with him. Even following the confrontation with Jumin’s mother & turning down the option to leave Jumin for money, it shows how far Jumin will go to keep MC. He truly believes he has to provide everything (money, security, possessions, etc.) in exchange for her love, her company, her willingness to be with him. This man has slowly been broken over & over again over the course of his life & he’s finally given in to these poor teachings & selfish encouragements, & has convinced himself what he’s found is full love where he provides anything & everything to keep MC’s interest in him. A clear give & take relationship. A contract. A game. And he’s not about to let that go.

Personally, while this path isn’t my favorite for Jumin, I was still absolutely impressed with the two different ways they had this particular Bad End play out. An emotional read from start to finish & back again.

#I flew through that so quick whew #Jumin Han #mm #mysme #mystic messenger #Jumin Han Bad End 2 #Bad End 2 #DLC #Bad End 2 DLC #spoilers #spoiler #mysme spoiler #mysme spoilers #After End #Jumin Han DLC #Route Notes #text post #long post #Meowle Mumbles

[votederpycausemufins]

Here’s another chapter! Y’all are gonna hate the ending.

@petrichormeraki

Grian knocked on the closet door. “Hey Xannes, I know you’re in there.”

“I’m busy! Go away!” Evil Xisuma’s voice came from inside.

“If you don’t come out now, I can get rid of the door completely and let people see inside. NPG’s told me it’s private information, but I’m sure sharing would be fine.”

There was silence before Xannes spoke again. “I’ll be right out!” There was a bit of clattering and then the hels admin opened the door as little as he could while also being able to squeeze through it.

“Nice sweater.” Grian pointed at the bright pink and yellow sweater Xannes was wearing before he quickly pulled it off and balled it up before throwing it into the closet.

“What the fuck do you want?” Then he looked over at Tommy. “And why is he here?”

“We need to get back to Hermitcraft and that’s Tommy. He’s from our dimension, not this one. We already met Theseus.”

Xannes crossed his arms. “And what do I get out of it?”

“You could come visit Hermitcraft again?” Mumbo suggested, but the admin just shook his head. “I thought you wanted that.”

“Oh, of course I do, but you know how I’m always visiting with NPG? That’s because my brother won’t let me in without him. Since he’s busy with Theseus, I can’t go anywhere.”

“Hey, before we left visiting, he said something about messaging you. Any chance that could be about NPG?” Tommy piped up.

Xannes hummed in acknowledgement before pressing something on his helmet. “So he did. Something I’ll need to tell Prof about. He’s actually going to be away for a few days to visit family. Something about seeing distorted mirrors or whatever.” He pressed the button again. “Alright, call NPG here and we can go.”

“Do I really need to discuss this? I have gone over this with my one dad before and have recovered from the events connected to my brainwashing.” Grum tried reasoning with Puffy who was insisting he had a therapy session with her. “I think there are more important matters to discuss other than my mental health.” 

“Your mental health is extremely important. Especially when you’re stuck in an unfamiliar place. And I’m not sure that having your dad as a therapist is the best practice.”

Grum frowned. “Technically a therapist should not have any relation with their patient outside of business work, usually up to three years I believe. But our admin is not fond of us leaving our world, so Daddy is the only option.”

“Well a second opinion would still be a good idea.” Puffy said, and Grum sighed before slumping in his seat. “I’m guessing that’s you reluctantly agreeing?”

“Yes, however I do have a condition.”

“What’s that?”

Grum gave a slight smirk. “That’s to have a significant influence on or determine the manner or outcome of something. But that’s not important right now. My condition is That between your questions for me, you allow me to ask my own questions.”

“Alright, but I may not answer everything you ask. Somethings may be a bit hard to hear or take too much explaining.”

“That is better than nothing.”

“Alright, so your brother mentioned you were brainwashed. How did that happen?”

“On our server, a system was started to buy plots of land on which to build shops, a ten by ten meter area being sold for one diamond block. It was started as a joke, but everyone went along with it. Soon there was a large diamond pile sitting in the middle of the shopping district. Dad thought someone needed to be in charge of it and created a town hall to place the blocks in and then created an election for mayor, nominating Daddy as a candidate. There were five total candidates, but by election, one had dropped out. One of the candidates was someone named Stress.

“She joined the election with Iskall as her running mate with a slogan and choice of colors. Meanwhile I was created to help my dads win. Just before the official election, Iskall appeared at my platform to get ideas from me. I refused to help anyone other than my dads, so he broke in and rewired me. Dad tried to help fix me when he found out what happened, but he does not know redstone well and only slightly fixed it. Daddy then came over and fixed me, but at that point, the stress of what happened and the fact that it was election day and it didn’t seem like my dads were winning ended with me breaking down.”

“That does sound like a lot to happen to someone so young. Even if as a robot you have the mental capacity of someone older, from what you’ve told me, you aren’t even a year old yet.”

“Correct.”

“Now, you said certain slogan and certain colors. What-”

“No. It is my turn for a question. Do you know someone by the name of Tommy Innit?”

“Uh, yes I do.” Puffy replied, waiting for Grum to ask more, but he simply nodded. “Are you going to ask more?”

“No. I have asked my question and now it is your turn.”

“Right. What were those colors and slogan?”

“I do not want to repeat the slogan. However, Stress was fond of alliums and used their dye.”

“Well then, that seems like something we should cover. The slogan likely may be a trigger to you.”

“Yes. How do you know Tommy?”

“I’ve… met him and his family before.”

Grum narrowed his eyes. “Is that all you are willing to say?”

“It’s my turn for a question.” Puffy responded, and Grum had to concede to his own rules. “How are you around Stress and Iskall?”

“Fine. They are my aunt and auncle now. Stress may have been running, but Iskall was acting on his own. At the time they were unaware how sentient of a being I was and is greatly apologetic for what they have done. They are very close with my dads and usually messed with things they ade, so at the time it seemed no different to him. Is Tommy from this server.”

“From this server? No, I believe he’s from SMP Earth.”

Grum had to keep himself from cursing. Now he was sure she was dodging his questions.

“Have you ever had negative experiences around Stress and Iskall after the initial incident?”

“Yes, the most prominent was when I first saw Iskall after getting my new body. After that was when I found a campaign sign that had not been taken down.” Grum paused before asking his question, having an idea. “If I asked you to give me a diamond and ask me a certain question with the guarantee that afterwards I would let you ask all your own questions and none more from me, would you do it?”

“I… suppose I could. I would have to find a dia-” Grum pulled one of on his inventory, always keeping a few on him for Jrum. “I guess that will work, what’s the question?”

“Ask me ‘Who is Tommy Innit?’”

This time Puffy looked unsure, but reluctantly she handed Grum the diamond back and asked the question. The diamond disappeared as it started up Grum’s system. He was primed, he bootloaded his brain, he flooded the mayoral reservoirs and then, he found the answer.

“Tommy Innit is the youngest son of Philza Minecraft, former ruler of the Antarctic Empire. He has three brothers. After the decline of the Antarctic Empire, Tommy was allowed to join the ↸∷ᒷᔑᒲ ᓭᒲ!¡ ᔑリ↸ ∴ᒷリℸ ̣  𝙹リ ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- Gᒷt ⊣o∷gᒷo⚍s.”

Grum was holding his head. Something was wrong. It.. purple. Why was it purple? He couldn’t think right. Why? Why again? Was it because they were talking about it all and he tried to access the mayoral reservoirs? “⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. !¡∷𝙹ᓵᒷᓭᓭ𝙹∷ ⎓ᔑ╎ꖎ╎リ⊣. ∷ᒷ!¡ᔑ╎∷ᓭ リᒷᒷ↸ᒷ↸. ꖎ𝙹ᓵᔑℸ ̣ ᒷ ᔑ↸ᒲ╎リ╎ᓭℸ ̣ ∷ᔑℸ ̣ 𝙹∷. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑-⍑ e l p m e. D a d s h e l p m e!”

“Du du du, du du durudu, du du du duuu! D-d-dance Grian! Du du du, du du durudu, guinea pig dance! D-d-dance Grian!” Jrumbot was singing while in the nether, mining up some quartz, both for redstone as well as for snacks. “Du du du, du du durudu, du du du duuu! D-d-dance Grian! Du du du, du du durudu, guinea pig dance! Dance dance dance dance da-da-dan guinea pig, guinea pig, guinea pig, guinea pig. Dance dance dance dance dancedance, guinea pig dance!”

He heard the sound of a piglin and immediately stopped to make sure his gold booties were on, glad to see they were, then he realized that it wasn’t actually a piglin, but a zombie piglin, and a young one at that. Then, he realized it wasn’t just a normal sound. The noises were in the same tune as the song he had just been singing. “Hello? Is someone there?”

The noises stopped and jrum would furrow his brow if he had one. Then he got an idea. “Well! I guess I was just hearing things!” He said a little louder than needed before going back to the song. This time he paid attention as the humming of a baby ziglin started up again and Jrum started walking towards it, lowering his voice volume so whoever it was couldn’t tell he was coming closer.

Finally Grum found a hole and peaked inside, scaring the young Ziglin. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! I just heard you humming along to me!” They were quiet, but Jrum did get a wave from the mob. “My name is Jrum! What’s yours?”

The Ziglin snorted and Jrum smiled. “Oh! Michael is a very nice name! What are you doing in a hole?” Another few snorts. “Huh, I guess that makes sense. My dads kept my brother in a box until it was okay to move him so he could get a body like the one I’m in! I got mine at the same time too by the way.”

Jrum chatted with Michael for a bit before something was said that made the ziglin sad. “Aww, what’s wrong?” Jrum asked, listening to the snorts in response. “Aww, well I hope Boo can find Bee. I got lost once and my dads found me, so I’m sure that your parents can find each other too!” A single happy snort. “Yes, Boo! He can do it. Wait behind me?”

Michael had shaken his head and pointed behind Jrum. When the robot turned around, he had to crane his head up at the figure that towered above him. They were half black and half white with the purple eyes of an enderman, streaks going down on the white side of their face from the eye. Jrum thought he also saw some mirrored on the black side, but it was hard to tell.”

“Who are you and why are you with Michael?”

“Um, I’m Jrum and I was mining in here while singing and then Michael sang along and now we’re friends.”

“I see. And what were you mining for?”

“Quartz! I’m a robot and so is my brother and we eat quartz instead of normal food, plus I need it for some redstone things.”

“I see. And are you-”

“Am I what?” Jrum asked when the person stopped talking, their eyes fading from purple and into green and red.

“Oh! Hello! Who are you?”

“Um… Jrum?” Jrum was confused by a number of things. The person’s changing eye colors, the repeated question, the tone of their voice changing from serious to chipper and finally the change to the common language. “You asked that already.”

“I did?” He asked, and then pulled out a book. “I don’t have anything written down about meeting someone like you.”

“Well we just met a minute ago. You asked what I was doing with Michael.”

“Oh, did you make a friend Michael?” The young ziglin nodded and then the person started writing in his book.

“Um, so what’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m Ranboo.”

Jrum smiled a little at the name. “Oh! Michael said his parents were Bee ‘n Boo, so you must be Boo!”

“That’s right. You’re able to understand him?”

“Yep!” Jrum nodded. “When I go to visit my sort of big brother he lets me visit Prof and Prof likes to give me presents like a language translator! My brother has one too!”

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“He’s Grum. We sort of got stuck in this world for a bit but we’re gonna try and find a way back and even if we can’t I’m sure our dads can find us!” Ranboo nodded and wrote down more in his book, making Jrum speak up again. “What’s that?”

“Oh, um… It’s my memory book. I’m not… entirely the best at remembering, so I write stuff down.”

“Oh! That’s cool!” Jrum smiled. “Well, I’m gonna go back to mining! Bye Michael! Bye Dad Boo!” And Jrum skipped away, humming a new song that mentioned being AFK.

“Mumbo! Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo!” Grian started shouting, trying to get the redstoner’s attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“Look!” And Grian shoved his communicator in Mumbo’s face. “They’re alive! Or at least… they’re not completely gone!”

Tommy and Phil also came over to see what was going on as Mumbo read messages on Grian’s comm. “They both ran out of battery.”

“Yes! I mean, it’s not good because I doubt they have a way to charge again, which is not a good sign, but it means that they’re not gone forever!”

“Wait, how do you know that?” Phil asked and Grian showed him the phone.

“We set something up a while ago so we get notifications for them when something happens like they run out of battery or get badly damaged. Looking at the timestamps, these were sent while we were in Helscraft, but we didn’t get the notifications until coming back to this dimension.”

“Is there any way to track the signal?” Tubbo asked, making Grian light up.

“Maybe! It would take a lot of time though, so it might be good to have someone here work on that while we check the-” Grian stopped, his comm buzzing. “What?”

Tommy leaned in to read the new messages.

[Bot Status] Grum has run into a processing error

[Bot Status] Grum has run into a database error

[Bot Status] Grum has run into a mental error

[Bot Status] Grum has shut down due to extreme stress

[Bot Status] Jrum has encountered a virus

[Bot Status] Virus has been dealt with

[Bot Status] : )

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #tommyinnit #grian #grian xelqua #watcher!grian #avian!Grian #evil xisuma #mumbo jumbo #philza #tubbo #technoblade #grumbot #jrumbot #captain puffy #ranboo #michael_beloved #dreamwastaken #still not a fan of how dream's persona eminates someone... problematic #hels!tommy #:)

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 135

I think y’all are in for a treat with this one. I won’t spoil it, though, other than to say that @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog thought this chapter was hilarious.

Think about that, please. Charly and Arthur think this chapter is hilarious.

Eyeah. That’s all I’ve got to say about that. I do not take responsibility for any injuries sustained.

As always, please don’t forget to check out the podcast! I will plug it shamelessly, so you may as well.

“Where are they?” Alistair murmured while he searched our shared office thoroughly.  Had it been anyone else, I would say he was being calm, but the fact that he was searching for anything, at all, tagged it in my head as a downright frantic pace.

“Where are what?”

“Nothing,” he dismissed, despite continuing his search.

I furrowed my brows. “You haven’t even had your tea yet. Or your breakfast?”

A pale hand waved me off. “I am aware.”

Shrugging, I gave it up as a lost cause and went back to the list of evacuees that Tyche and I had drafted up. After whipping up a preliminary list of who was assigned where, we were doing a more thorough second pass to ensure no conflicts of personality.  Deep in thought, I paid Alistair no attention until Parvati and Hannah arrived fifteen minutes later.

“Alistair, they aren’t here, so you can stop looking,” Hannah grinned as she took her accustomed seat.

“I am sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Surrrrre you don’t. Just like I’m sure you don’t know why several of the paint pens ran out of pigment,” Parvati assured him in the most sincere tone I had ever heard. My former therapist would have been proud.

I fought back a smile as he straightened and finally stopped his search, even going so far as to tug his shirt to get any wrinkles out. “I know no such thing.”  With that, he turned his back to all three of our snickering faces, requesting his usual tea and scone from the food console.

Composing my face, I tried to be serious for a minute. “You should eat fast, because our appointment with Arthur Farro is in about fi - “

My door whooshed open. Speak of the devil.

“ - ve minutes early, apparently,” I finished.

Unperturbed as usual, the subject of my previous suggestion strolled in with his usual air of confidence.  Just as he was going to take a seat beside Parvati, he leaned across the table. “Aww, no kiwi or pomegranate on your clotted cream this morning? Poor fing,” he said with a mocking pout.

“I am baffled why everyone believes such things of me,” Alistair grumbled into his tea with a scowl.

I sputtered. “You were using the pens on your breakfast?”

He didn’t even bother denying the chorus of confirmations from those around him, taking the higher road of sudden deafness. “Farro, I am still not entirely sure why a former warlord is necessary for discussions of an evacuation plan.”

“Warlords are generally just berserkers if they don’t have anyone to be ‘lord’ of.” Farro shot a dazzling smile as I supressed a groan. “But then again, being British, I’m sure you got confused, what with all the lords that were there in the last century without even land to their names.”

It really was easier sometimes to do things without either of them. Time to step in. “Gentlemen,” I purred in my most annoyingly ‘motivational’ tone possible, “the bathroom is right through that door, if you would like to continue your pissing contest.  However, some of us have actual work to do, so whether you fuck it out or fight it out, please do so on your own time.”

Both mouths shut with an audible click, and both men looked away from me. But at least they were quiet. Sophia: 1, Whatever-the-hell-this-was: 0.

I forged ahead while I had the chance. “Arthur, thank you for taking time to meet with us regarding the plans for fortifying the safety points. I’m sorry that Tyche couldn’t be here, however she scheduled her stay-cation several months ago and frankly deserves it.” By which I meant I had bribed Derek with a nauseating amount of bao to disable any communications to or from this office from going to her data pad until the start of her first shift post-vacation, and threatened my entire family within an inch of their lives to keep them from bringing up work around her for the next week. “However, I do have her concerns and suggestions ready, I assure you.”

With a scowl, he glanced at me and stood, calling up the emitter-map of the Ark. Quickly, he sketch circles around each of the ‘bunkers’ we had designated. “Xiomara had very sound judgement in the locations she chose for safe-zones, and I honestly expected it. Between her and Evania, there is a frankly terrifying amount of strategic prowess in what is theoretically our Health and Safety office.”

“You can’t be healthy or safe if you’re dead,” Hannah pointed out.

He tossed her a wink and grin. “Touche. However, none of them are perfect. This location,” he leaned to tap and zoom on a mess hall, “is fortified, has access to food and drink, even if you have to furiously call up non-perishables and potable water, and only has one entrance/egress.  A huge entry/egress, unfortunately: the door is ten meters wide.”

Parvati tapped a couple times on her datapad before chiming in. “It does close, however. And it locks.”

Arthur shook his head. “In two panels, each five meters wide. If even one is blown, the gap is indefensible. Both, everyone in there is free for the taking.”

“You are suggesting we ask Miys to narrow the aperture of the door?” I groaned when I heard Alistair leverage his overly-formal language.

It didn’t get any better when Arthur nodded. “Worst they can say is no, but the size of the door is simply for ease of access and to assuage anyone with proximity issues. Now that we all have these handy alerts - “ he tapped his temple for emphasis “ - it isn’t nearly as necessary. Noah? Bud? What do you think?”

The buzz from the ceiling was clearly amused. “I am amenable if this is a solution. As Arthur pointed out, the width of that door is no longer necessary.”

“Annnd there we go,” Arthur shrugged. “The boatwright said yes, if that’s what we want.”

My jaw nearly hit the floor when Alistair nodded firmly and stood. Swiftly, he highlighted three more areas. “These have the same potential concern. We should include those in the proposal.”

‘We’? ‘We’ whomst??? Since when were they on the same side?

“I agree,” Arthur continued enthusiastically, causing my head to start twinging in pain. “According to the engineers and the chemisists on board, the material of the Ark is remarkably fire-retardant despite it’s organic nature - let’s hear it for advanced civilizations - so there is no additional need for fire doors. There is however a possibility of concussive damage to the actual doors in any area, despite how thick the actual walls are.”

“Tyche recommended shock-absorbent material on the exteriors of each door, dropped via internal trigger and held taught by wires rather than any sort of scaffolding,” I suggested, recovering my focus. I flicked the concept at the emitter, where it was displayed alongside the schematic of the Ark. “Using wires would allow us to also store it in a roll at the top of the door, and allow pulleys to draw the wires embedded in the bulkhead down to cover the entire door.”

Hannah nodded thoughtfully. “The materials she suggests are a good idea - definitely maximizes shock absorption as much as possible. My only concern is that we can probably double the flame resistance of the materials for only a ten-percent loss of effectiveness.”

Calling up my datapad, I smiled as I quoted. “ ‘However, Hannah is a professional weaver and seamstress, and therefore I defer to her on any suggestions regarding materials used, provided there is no more than twenty-percent loss of efficacy’. Apparently she did the calculations and had Charly and Conor both check behind her - anything below twenty percent loss, and the blast would blow the doors.”

“And when did the more sensible Miss Reid learn engineering?” Alistair asked in what sounded like genuine curiosity.

“Tuesdays - I think?” I scrunched my face and searched my memory. “It was something very important when we were cosplaying.”

Arthur snorted, but gestured an apology when Alistair affixed him with a downright lethal glare.

Hannah ignored them both. “Wool… We should be able to synthesize raw wool, instead of the plant based materials here. Best of both worlds - fluffy, incredibly flame resistant, and disperses concussive force like nothing else. Line it with silk for shrapnel? We should be good.”

“Fortress defense via quilts. I like it,” Arthur grinned savagely.

“There is a reason tapestries were so important in the Middle Ages,” Alistair snarked at him. “Both flame resistant and insulating, both very good qualities when you see by torches and candles in a drafty residence that echoes like a cathedral.”

Arthur held his hands up in surrender. “Not arguing, no worries… Genuine respect, swear.”

“Better…”

“Annnnd forging on from whatever-the-fuck-that-was,” I interjected, trying to focus on the topic at hand rather than… well, whatever the fuck that was, “That’s overlarge entries and concussive force taken care of. What other concerns did you have, Arthur?”

“Frankly? Camouflage,” he told us sternly. “The best way to protect against an invading enemy is to make it so hard to find you that it isn’t worth the effort.  All these defenses are good an all, but… they’ll stick out like a sore thumb and practically scream ‘Hey! We’re in HERE!’ “ I stifled a laugh when he hopped and waved his arms furiously.

“Very dignified, Farro,” Alistair sniffed as he stood to get more tea.

“I know, right? I’m so classy…”

Rolling my eyes and still regretting having them both in my office at the same time, “We actually have the camouflage solved for.” You could have heard a pin drop, all four of them frozen, mouths open. “It came through this morning from Zach.” I swiped the fortress-quilt specs down, and popped up the plans for the camouflage. “We’re thinking on the visible spectrum, since humans are sight animals. Zach went with a ‘most common denominator’ approach - scent, infrared, acoustic, everything but electromagnetic vision.  The quilts cover the infrared and the majority of the acoustic issues: if any body-heat shows through fifteen inches of fluffed wool and a bulkhead door, we’re doomed no matter what.” I highlighted a line of data. “Scent, likewise: Zach is suggesting aeresolized, low concentration sulfur throughout the majority of the Ark, excluding the safe-zones. The safe-zones will also have one of Miys stationed in each one, acting essentially as an air scrubber. This will minimize acoustics from active air filtration, while also adhering to Miys being a non-participant: they will be present to ensure our comfort due to minimizing body odor, nothing more.  This was already planned, the fact that it will protect us from being detected by scent is just a lagniappe.”

I waited for the thoughtful nods to pass and decided I did not see the glance that Arthur and Alistair exchanged. As long as they didn’t draw blood during the meeting, I would let it slide. “Where it gets sticky is neuroelectric. Zach, it seems, took a page out of Charly’s manual-of-mischief.” I zoomed in on the specific line of the prospectus and waited.

“He wants to what?” Hannah asked, incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh I like this,” came the ‘devil’ in ‘devil’s advocate’.

“How would it even work?” Parvati asked, genuinely curious.

I chose that one to respond to. “Just like the microfilament wires that will support the quilts, he wants to cover the walls inside several false locations with a mesh and electrify it to mimic human synaptic energy. Needle in a haystack theory.”

“Wait,” Alistair held up a hand to interrupt. “Are you also proposing that the doors to these false locations will be covered in the quilts?”

“Absolutely,” I confirmed. “Given how far from prospective entry points all of the safe-zones are located, they would run into several false locations before they encounter a real one.”

“And if they decide to tear into all the locations, even the false-positives?” Arthur poked, trying to find a hole in the idea. Which, I had to concede, was why he was even here instead of sending me messages for this.

“What if they decide to tear into every mess hall? Or every door? We can’t plan for everything.” I shook my head. “However, we can factor in a few things that seem pretty consistent despite species - Beings who don’t have legitimate work and take slaves are generally prone to laziness, despite somehow working harder to avoid work than I have ever actually worked a day in my life.  Point being, give them enough false positives on the way, they won’t actually search everything no matter what they say.”

“Speculation and hearsay, not admissible in court.”

“Au contraire, mon frère. Charly did the sociological analysis on all the species most likely to be pirates in the region of the galaxy where we will exit relativistic space, and her estimates are that the plan has a sixty-to-eighty-percent chance of success in the event that all human combatants fail. And I, personally, agree.” 

He conceded a low whistle. “Damn. If I didn’t like Evan so much, I would say Charly is being wasted with Huynh. Objection withdrawn.”

“Quite,” Alistair agreed smugly. “Miss Harper’s plan is a sound one. The Archives, however - “

I interrupted, still irritated about the topic. “You will be stationed immediately inside the doors to defend against any intruders who make it that far, while Tyche will be defending the y-junction between the speculative fiction and historical fiction categories to prevent intruders from reaching the actual people.”

“But the religious studies section - “

“Has already been scanned down to a molecular level to preserve the information, even if we can’t restore any actual artifacts,” Parvati advised in a profoundly bored tone. “You do realize that anyone who reaches that section will not be able to reach the actual people from there without doubling back, right?”

“Miss Fletcher, there is a Gutenberg Bible on this Ark, potentially the last one in existence.” The tone was icy enough to send a shiver down my spine.

“Phee,” Arthur threw out, guaranteeing my irate attention, “Is there any issue with moving the Gutenberg to the Speculative Fiction section until we meet with the Ekomari fleet?”

“Are you seri - “

“Not to placate the Monarchist, I swear. Just - that is a profoundly important historical artifact, even if I agree with nearly none of the contents. The start of the Information age! Literature in the hands of the vulgar masses! Your field of study would have never existed in the form it was without that achievement. Who cares if the first use was to print the frickin’ Bible?”

Before I could object, Parvati added her prodigious two cents. “I do not have to be Christian to appreciate the illuminations in a manuscript, any more than I have to be a Muslim to be brought to my knees by the beauty of a mosque. We can appreciate the significance of something regardless of whether we agree with it or not.”

“This is probably where Charly or Tyche would point out that I am a huge fan of laws against animal abuse, despite firmly believing that Hitler was evil incarnate,” I sighed. “Yeah, we can move the Gutenberg Bible, provided - hang on, stop cheering - PROVIDED - “ I paused to make sure they were all paying attention, “that any other works of significant cultural or historical significance are moved as well. Any first additions, significant religious texts - or in lack of ‘significant’ religious texts, just a copy of each that is agreed to be acceptable by all who follow that religion. A copy of Frankenstein, The Tale of Genji, et cetera.”

I knew my request brooked exactly zero argument from Alistair, as his eyes visibly shone when I added more books to the list. What I waited for were any objections from the other three.

Sure enough, Hannah tentatively raised her hand. When I nodded, she spoke up. “I think we should do a kind of Voyager-plate: a copy, even just digital, of all our texts around music, crafts, technology, mathematics… Art, fermentation, food preparation and the history of it. Not just for this scenario!” she insisted urgently, “For any worst-case scenario. Keep a copy, or several. And put those copies, along with all the relevant artifacts that we have on board, and keep them with the people in the Archives, in the safest part of the ship.”

“Where it would take a black hole to destroy it,” Parvati whispered.

Just as the tears were threatening my eyes, Arthur flopped back in his seat and kicked his boots up onto the table. “Jesus fuck, you guys are depressing. Right, but depressing. It’s doable, though. We just transcribe it into the most common language for each version of ‘language’ in the Galaxy…”

Alistair snorted. “You warlords and your short-sightedness. Clearly, the resolution is to transcribe it into the most common language in the Galaxy with instructions on how to translate it further down.”

“No, you limey-ass bastard,” Arthur growled. “Too much is lost in translation - there is a reason the Qur’an and the Sefer Torah should never be translated to be considered valid.”

Nope. I wasn’t dealing with it. We had covered all the necessary topics, I could message the rest. I twitch my head at both Vati and Hannah, at which point they both rose from their seats. Neither was noticed by the arguing men.

Arthur was mid-sentence when a quick strike from Vati to the top of his spinal cord rendered all his words gibberish. Rather than realizing this, he glanced down at his suddenly-tingling fingertips in confusion. Hannah simply hauled Alistair out of his seat and ignored his squawked objections, her shorter but sturdier frame more than a match for his tall, slender frame and brain that was very much against violence towards women but undecided about how to stop them from chauffeuring you out of a room.

With exactly zero ceremony, both men were deposited in the corridor, to the satisfaction of all three of us. I waggled my fingers in a farewell. “Fuck it out or fight it out, I don’t care. But not in my office. Ta!”

I could not hold back the smile anymore when both started pounding on the door for entry, not realizing I had disabled their permissions right after the first volley had been thrown.  It was almost habit, at this point, to disable their permissions to my office when they started bickering, only to restore them when they decided to act like adults.

Clearly that wasn’t the case this time. Oh well, maybe in a couple hours. I would need to ask Xiomara to do a ‘sensor test’ of the gym and med bays to be sure.

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

[zosonils]

what are some random papyrus headcanons you currently have?

ooughwhhghgh anon you know the EXACT way to my heart. got a map to it and everything. a real good and fancy map. the ones with sea monsters in the corners

autistic adhd papyrus real

he tends to think of anything he doesn’t understand [and even some things he does!] in terms of puzzles, since they’re a lifelong special interest and they help him contextualise things! for instance if he’s navigating someplace he’s never been before it’s easier for him to visualise things as an incomplete map that he has to find the pieces [landmarks] of than it is to just wander until he finds his way or go up to someone and ask for directions [talking to people he doesn’t know very well is also a puzzle and he has more trouble solving that one because sometimes the clues lie to you]. this approach to things makes him astoundingly good at working through things logically, although between the difficulties applying this sort of thinking to unpredictable social situations and his occasional penchant for insane troll logic he doesn’t have a 100% success rate

in addition to this he’s a really visual thinker and can understand almost anything really quickly if he has a way to visualise it, whether it’s explicitly given to him or he thinks of one himself and suddenly goes OH I GET IT NOW. anything that doesn’t come with a coherent visual metaphor is borderline impossible for him to grasp, though. dude needs his diagrams

he likes playing video games, at least when he isn’t hyperfocused on his duties as a royal guard in training, and he tends to get an insane amount of mileage out of them because once he beats whatever objective the game explicitly gives him he’ll start making up his own self-imposed challenges or ‘puzzles’ instead. like if you gave him tetris he’d be super into the standard a-type and b-type modes, but once he gets tired of those he’ll start doing stuff like trying to play in time with the music, or without rotating any pieces, or painstakingly arranging incomplete lines so that the empty spaces form some kind of intricate pattern

gloves and especially scarves are a comfort accessory for him! even before/after the battle body is a thing and he’s wearing different clothes from one day to another pretty much every outfit he wears includes those accessories. if it’s too hot for a huge warm tightly-wrapped scarf he just grits his teeth and wears it anyway

the reason pap hates grease so much is that it sets off literally every single sensory issue he has. it sticks to you when you touch it just a little, it feels just as gross through your gloves, it’s hard to wash off, it stains your favourite scarf so you have to put it through the washing machine twice to make absolutely sure it doesn’t smell weird later and stress you out again, it has a gross taste that stays in your mouth for ages, it’s just the worst! how his brother stomachs the stuff he’ll never know [and it’s not because he doesn’t have a stomach, that doesn’t mean he can’t have standards either]

papyrus knows that sans suffers from depression, and he understands what that actually means as opposed to just having a surface-level grasp on ‘sans isn’t happy as often as he should be’. the issue isn’t that he doesn’t understand or desperately want to help, he does, but the sheer magnitude of sans’ issues is just substantially more than papyrus has any frame of reference for. the best he knows how to do is to be as blisteringly positive as possible in hopes that some of it will rub off on sans, while also refusing to enable any of the lazy or blatantly self-destructive habits sans has that papyrus can tell aren’t making him feel any better. short motherfucker needs a trained therapist and/or antidepressants more than anything but papyrus is doing everything he can, and while papyrus being papyrus is already enough to keep sans going he’s helping as much as he does specifically because of the deliberate effort he makes to beat sans’ depression over the head with a bone until it runs off hissing

wow that one got long lmao sorry i just really hate when people portray papyrus as completely oblivious to sans’ problems when he’s pretty strongly hinted to understand them to at least some degree and 1. it literally makes for such a better story on both the heartwarming and crushingly tragic ends of the spectrum if pap knows and is doing his best to help 2. even if it didn’t people are still deliberately ignoring huge chunks of papyrus’ characterisation in favour of portraying him as the smol little innocent cinnamon roll uwu bean who doesn’t understand anything and y’all have got to realise the implications of forcing this personality on the most heavily autistic coded character in the game :|

on a more lighthearted note, papyrus can reluctantly but wholeheartedly appreciate a good pun or cleverly-planned prank, he just knows that sans likes getting a rise out of people with them and goes with his instinct to groan over his instinct to laugh because it makes sans happy. sans is completely aware that papyrus is doing this, so there’s an unspoken self-aware undertone to their whole routine lmao

whenever papyrus, sans, and undyne are together they have this wacky dynamic where they’re all constantly tossing the straight man role around like a hot potato and i want a dumb sitcom about the three of them living in the skeleton household that goes absolutely mental with this wacky dynamic and god damn it i’ll write it myself if i have to

papyrus gets to kin me for this one, there’s like a single phineas and ferb dvd that fell into the underground a few years ago that made its way to him in one way or another [sans probably gave it to him with no way of predicting the special interest hell [positive] he was about to unleash] and he immediately became obsessed. he can recite entire episodes from memory because he watched them so many times the audio got burned into his brain. his favourite character is doof and he considers the annoying dog his personal perry the platypus. when he gets to the surface and finds out that there’s like 200 more episodes he cries with happiness

aroace papyrus also real

it’s getting late so i’m going to leave this here but i am always down to talk about papyrus. i fuckin love papyrus so much guys

#thank you anon [mouth kisses you but very platonically and only via psychic power rather than my actual mouth] #thirteen year old papyrus in a lab coat he stole from his dad acting out doofenshmirtz scenes in a fit of goofy excitement #sans sits in a cardboard box helpfully labelled 'TRAP' and listens and occasionally says 'gkrgkgkrk' #they proceed to get in trouble for playfighting #sonic forces me to answer questions #just fucking whatever #anon

[beeshavethrees]

Thomas was not the most perceptive of men when it came to discerning the feelings of others. Of course there were those closest to him that he had come to know well enough over the years that all it took was the smallest pull of their lips and the tightness around their eyes for him to realize that something was horribly wrong. But for those who he had distanced himself from, knowing only in passing, it would take a figurative brick to the head for him to see that something was up.

And that exact brick hit him in the form of Alexander Hamilton running directly into him on the way out of the office, staring at him with wide eyes for several incredibly awkward seconds-

Before promptly bursting into tears.

If Thomas was not very perceptive towards emotions, he most certainly was not a licensed therapist, and as such was...a bit out of his realm of expertise in this exact situation. Add to that the fact that Thomas had been working late that night: it seemed like he and Alexander were the other two left in the office.

So, more confused than anything, he guided the smaller man outside with one hand across the other’s shoulders, sat him down on the bench by the entrance, and then took a seat beside him. At that hour, even the parking lot was nearly empty; they were alone. Awkwardly, Thomas dropped his arm away from the other man, folding his hands on his lap.

And they sat, Alexander clamping one hand across his mouth to stifle his hiccuping sobs, and Thomas fiddling with the hem of his shirt and wondering what, if anything he should say. It was only after some time that Alexander himself was the first to speak, albeit with whispered, stuttering words.

“I’m s- so sorry about this, you- you don’t need to stay.”

Thomas shifted where he sat, electing to stare intently at the armrest of the bench rather than at Alexander, focusing on the spots of rust that had slowly overtaken the metal over the years. “No, it’s...it’s fine.” Another pause, the silence punctuated by Alexander’s sniffling, and Thomas tried, “I didn’t mean to...set you off, or whatever. You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” was Alexander’s flat response; he stopped to rub at his eyes, and despite the relative darkness, Thomas could see that they seemed raw and ringed in red. “And it...it wasn’t your fault. I’ve just been having a rough...year? Decade? I don’t know. This has just been a real shit week and- and I guess- I-I really can’t explain my thought process, everything just- came together and-” His shoulders seemed to be quaking as he grabbed his arms and gasped, “I’m sorry. This is- horrifically unprofessional. But nothing feels real right now.”

Thomas chewed at his cheek for a few moments, mulling over his options, before settling on: “Well, so long as we’re being unprofessional...”

Alexander flinched when Thomas tugged one of his hands away from where it had been digging into his upper arm; Thomas squeezed Alexander’s hand tight.

He was not a very perceptive man, and whatever was going on now in Alexander’s life, despite all his time spent arguing and debating with the man, he hadn’t noticed a thing off, nor did he have any clue what had broken him like it did. But he could offer some support, if that was the only thing he had to give.

And Alexander took it, trembling, hair falling loose across his eyes.

They sat there for some time, the night’s cool air slowly sinking into Thomas’ skin, and eventually, Alexander whispered, “Thank you.”

Thomas dropped his hand, and after an awkward moment, clapped him on the back -- lightly, as it looked like the slightest wrong look would set him off again. “Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

Alexander nodded, lips tight; Thomas put out a hand, hauling Alexander to his feet a moment later.

They crossed the near-empty lot, Alexander pausing as he unlocked his car. Shifting awkwardly on his feet for a few moments, he eventually murmured, “Again...thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me...”

Thomas nodded, answering with a light, “Goodnight.” Almost feeling like that wasn’t nearly enough, he added, “I hope you get to feeling better soon, y’know. I get we aren’t friends or anything, but- maybe that’s a good thing? Someone who doesn’t really know you and doesn’t have any judgement to pass.” Recognizing that he was rambling, he swallowed back anything else, merely ending his statement with, “Just figured I’d put that out there as an option. If worse comes to worse.”

Alexander nodded, and Thomas waved to him before turning on his heels and walking off to his own vehicle.

-----------------------

Thanks for reading, y’all! Sorry this is short, unedited, and doesn’t have much going on -- I’ve been battling horrible depression/anxiety for some time now and no matter how much I try can’t get any words out on the page when I sit down to write. I’d like to say that there was a point to this, or even that it was cathartic to write, but I don’t even think that much is true. But it is the most I’ve been able to get out in months, so I’ll cling to it, and hopefully I can write again someday soon.

:)

#jamilton #hamilton #hamilton: an american musical

[liberons]

so anyways have a weird pseudo-meta on the 239894 ways levi’s character could’ve been better used story-wise

tbh i do believe yams had it in him to write a nice, tight, cohesive story where everything could’ve fallen in place well enough -- at least to the point where actions made sense with reference to established character personalities and arcs within the story. i have no issue with regression, but you can’t make it half-assed or just. entirely left-field and leave it at that and ok moral of the story i’m like, 90% sure come from being far too invested in the fandom as an author. NEVER change your story because of someone else’s opinion when it’s SERIALISED y’all.

SECTION  I .     KILL  HIM  OFF  !

let’s be honest !!!  this is the most obvious !!!  we get it he’s popular, you’ll get backlash, yaddi yadda ya girl’s tired.

(  i .  )   why didn’t eren kill him.

why

remember what levi was actually established to DO early on? the whole “i’ll take care of eren if he goes manic”? his WHOLE NARRATIVE PURPOSE? would be great if we, you know, played with that At All.

how fucking FRIGHTENING would eren’s final form be if it just fucking nipped levi in the bud? if levi, completely fine and uninjured, stayed true to his word and lead to handle eren, just to be fucking annihilated? eren has like 60 fucking titans inside him INCLUDING the activated founding. I THINK IT’S PRETTY FAIR TO REDEFINE HIM AS BEING FUCKING OP NOW.

just define some real form of tension come on.

this could’ve also just. so naturally shifted the tension in mikasa’s direction. literally everyone instinctively has mikasa jotted down as second-best-next-to-levi, both in and out of canon. it would make sense for other characters to just eye awkwardly in deciding mikasa ‘has’ to be the next one to try through the framing bias that presents. 

right now it’s like it’s not even her choice but everyone decided it would be for no goddamn reason. why does mikasa need to be ok with killing eren at all??? why cant one of YALL do it????????? and like mikasa kills him but then presents absolutely no real conclusion in doing so. we get 0 insight into what’s really going on in her head and WE DONT EVEN GET TO SEE IT !!!!!!!!!!

(  i i .  )   zeke if yOu’Re goNnA do it dO it RIGHT

to stay more true to canon, here’s way better ways zeke could’ve actually been rid of him that aren’t. regressing and dumb lmao:

zeke’s still a war chief, he’s had YEARS of troop strategy / planning up his sleeves. why didn’t he use turning levi’s squad into a means to set up some real traps because what’s he gonna do to a bomb, huh? Fight it?

or better yet, spike more than just levi’s squad and just have swarms and waves of mindless titans coming in to provide that distraction.

or have more help?? there’s all the yeagerists at your disposal and not ONE can secretly set something up with you?

overall like zeke should know levi’s skill and levi shouldn;t have to assume zeke’s not ?????????????? “willing to die”??????????? WTF????? AREN’T YOU WHY WOULDN'T HE BE?????

god anyways

zeke kills levi u know what that sets up? the fact that he’s pretty fucking clever and powerful on his own???? so now when eren & zeke team up to cause the rumbling, regardless of zeke’s original intent, would make them Far more horrifying to the rest of the crew; 

tbh i feel like this should mean moving the ‘reveal’ of eren’s betrayal to the very end of the manga when eren explains everything through path visions bc at least it keeps his moral grey area more.... grey. 

we know by the end that he betrayed zeke so it’s like ok So Yes He’s Doing Summ For The Greater Good But What and at least this would balance the scales of mass murder a lil by not snipping all the men i fucking Guess lmao god

(  i i i .  )    RUMBLE HIM

step on him 

but really he can just??? die during the rumbling???? point blank??????????? why were there not more major character casualties lmao boi

if the colossal titans are just far too many and far too boring, all the previous titans on eren’s back is so delicious and should’ve been drawn out im not sorry about it.

where’s the 349873 iterations of character x character teaming up and slowly getting better at absolutely Slicing these bastards? WHERE ARE THEY? 

i want my warriors x stray marleans x survey squads just dedicated to keeping the 9 titan iterations out of eren’s neck.

he could’ve finally killed zeke here too but i’m gonna get to that whole thing lmao god.

we've also established him getting wounded when others are involved (à la leg injury helping mikasa) so have him??? sacrifice???? to help others like finish his empathy arc

let him sacrifice himself by keeping the titans back while armin blows up idc

and for all of these — it doesn’t even have to be a quick death. let him lose a body part and die of blood loss. let his organs fail. let him get infected like yo not every death has to be in 3s flat.

SECTION II .     OR  DON’T  !

like. let’s just say there’s absolutely no way your publicist is gonna let you kill this character. you love him too much / he’s become a weird self-insert. ok sure. YOU CAN STILL DO SOMETHING.

( i .  )  why does he just. not grow.

he’s five three but does his heart have to be?

anyways fr he’s literally a huge fucking asshole and he doesn’t grow out of it. no one ever point out that it’s terrible. the biggest blacklash he gets is historia punching him like pew. and it’s not even addressed why she did that. it’s just like haha, yep.

can we get him some uhhhh??? clear empathy ???? some actual growth?? like we know he went from the guy beating eren up Excessively to forcing historia to be queen to giving armin the colossus, and then back to just slicing zeke up uselessly and caring about one (1) thing. like he was clearly on a path somewhere.

like first of all, holy fuck get over it. it’s like he had a manic episode for 4 years just obsessing over killing zeke when the game changed buddy??? it’s been established that the issue is No Longer zeke why are we so hard on this. his entire character just becomes kill monkee because his arc is DONE so if we’re going to keep him around find something else?? or CONTINUE to develop him.

make him grow his soft skills as a leader. make him learn how to stick around his team and know exactly how to fall back. 

if he’s injured, make him LITERALLY stay back and learn how to handle those he has to keep back with him.

make him struggle keeping morale. 

make him argue with some of the non-paradisians, or even those from paradis that are like what the FUCK and just learn to offer his perspective.

if he’s so obssessed with zeke maybe uh?? address that with someone???? talk it out with your therapist buddy you’ve clearly not come to terms with the fact you let erwin die and he has no reason to be so caught up by that and if he does like lmao ok let us see and understand it???

( i i .  )   do something with the ackermans

that’s it that’s the post

idek what else to put here i want this fucker dead

#❛ ⍀ 𝟎 𝟎 𝟔 ．» ᵒʰ ʰᶦ ᵐᵃʳ ∕ ooc ． #next time i'll be logging into my ymir blog to talk about how to better treat ur lesbians #i could probably write this properly but the disarray feeds into my fury #i was going to work on more drafts but instead i just sat here seething in my rage the Second i thought about the last arc again #those Fill In The Blanks games with character names and we could probably write a better final arc #anyways

[theonetheycallhannah]

The Treatment of Captain Syverson-Chapter 10: Myofascial Release

Characters: Captain Syverson x OFC (Shane Benton)

Summary: Shane and Sy decompress after an emotional evening, Shane finds it difficult to get out of her own head and live in the moment, but Sy knows exactly how to help her, and not to be a complete hoe and spoil things, but…things get steamier than ever between our favorite therapist and patient duo.

Oh snap! You’re behind! Get on track here!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings:  Language, mature themes, alcohol consumption, the smut you’ve all been waiting for so patiently! (I hope it lives up to your undoubtedly high expectations!)

Author’s Note: Oh gosh, y’all, I am so nervous to post this. Somehow it doesn’t feel like my smuttiest smut. And like, all previous chapters have been kind of leading up to this moment. The good news is, I’ve decided to continue writing this story after the sex. I’ve got some ideas about where to go from here, and I want to keep it going. Plus, it feels wrong to write all of this and then just drop them without a big picture resolution. They’re gonna go through some shit, though. You have been warned.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for me, Henry is not mine, le sigh, and all mention of him, his characters, any characters from his films, or his precious doggy, Kal, are strictly for transformative and recreational use. I neither ask for, nor accept payment for the work I post on Tumblr or AO3. Unbeta’d because this is for fun and escapism.

Tags: 

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@cavillryarchive

@summersong69

@titty-teetee

@bloodyinspiredfuck

@agniavateira

@oddsnendsfanfics

@omgkatinka

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Hope I’m not forgetting anyone! If you want to be notified when I post a new chapter or work, I’ll be happy to add you to my tag list! Stricken blogs are getting personal messages from me when a new chapter is uploaded because Tumblr’s faulty tagging system will not stand in the way of me delivering what the people want!(?) lol! (Although…their lackadaisical notification system might…sorry for that. I have no control. lol!)

X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@X@

Her living room was cast in the low light of the floor lamp she had left on. Intending to come home after dark. Alone. She hated walking into a dark house by herself.

Well, tonight, she wasn’t alone. And although Sy had been to her house before, this was different. They were officially a couple, and they were no longer waiting to express, to the fullest extent, their true affection for one another.

Ever the hostess, despite her nervous tension, Shane asked Sy if he wanted anything to drink, rambling off several options somewhat awkwardly.

“I’m fine, darlin.’” He assured her, stopping her at some point in the rant, before she was completely done. “Do you need something?”

“Umm, I think I should have a glass of wine.” Her eyes darted to the kitchen across her serve-through counter space and landed on her fridge. “I’m…I’m really nervous.”

"Why don't we watch a little TV for a while? You get you some wine, and I'll put somethin' on. What are we watchin', sunshine?"

"Ummmm, something light? Funny? Something I've seen." She wouldn't be able to process anything new or heavy right now.

"I'm on it." he kissed the top of her head and left her side for the sofa, where he plopped himself down like a comfy hound dog, and picked up the remote to her Smart TV.

She smiled as she busied herself in the kitchen. She decided she wanted a snack with her wine. She got a plate of cheese and crackers together first. Then she remembered she had some venison sausage one of her coworkers had brought in, and put that on the plate, too. She got out a chilled bottle of her favorite, cheap moscato and a stemless glass. She couldn't go in there without something for Sy, so she also got a glass of ice water ready for him. She put the whole spread on her big serving tray and took it to the living room.

Sy was already halfway through the first episode of Parks and Recreation.

"I saw this in your 'Watch it again' group, and thought maybe you'd like to re-watch it. I've heard you talk about it a lot, and I've never seen it." He didn't complain at her for taking forever. He just lit up when he saw her. Like it was the first time. And not the hundredth.

"That's perfect, babe. I brought some snacks out, too. Some cheese and crackers, and this really good sausage one of my coworkers brought me. You like deer?" she asked.

"One of my favorite pet names." he teased. "I do, though, yes."

They ate, and laughed, and watched about four or five episodes, it was hard to keep track. But after approximately half the bottle, Shane had summoned some courage. She started playing at the texture of Sy's jeans, running a fingernail across the coarse fabric.

"Hang on, love bug. I want to know somethin.'" she looked up at him, mildly confused. "I'm trying to think of a reason you need to get tipsy to sleep with me that I shouldn't take personally." he rubbed her upper arm, comforting her as no one had done since she was a small child. At least not that she could remember.

"No, Sy. It's not like that. You aren't the problem at all!" she paused. He let her gather her thoughts. She appreciated that he knew she intended to continue and that he didn't rush her to do it. He was patient. And kind. And all of that should have made this whole night easier. But somehow it didn’t.

“I’m the problem." She confessed after a long pause and a deep sigh. "I mean, I’m in my head about it all, I know. But it’s been…almost six years since I’ve slept with anyone, five and a half, at least, and I can’t seem to wrap my head around it now that I know it’s going to happen again.”

He pulled her body into his, squeezing her tightly for one of his soul cleansing hugs.

“Sunshine. Everything will come back to ya. We’ll just go as slow as ya want. I got all night.”

“Okay. Well, I guess, since I’m a bit sleepy from the wine, we should head to bed.”

Sy affirmed the idea, and made to help her put their snacks away in the kitchen.

She got out containers for their leftover food while Sy stoppered the wine, put it in the fridge, and washed their glasses.

She felt his warmth before she felt his touch. He stood behind her, radiating his particular brand of heat for a moment, and taking in the scent of her hair near her right ear. She heard a low rumble from someplace deep in him which slowed her efforts at the counter. His hands were light but very much present on her hips. A whisper against the fabric of the casual but feminine floral dress she’d chosen for the night. But she felt it like the weight of her favorite old blanket, heavy with years and warm comfort.

He kissed her temple, chaste and unassuming. But still full of desperation. She could tell that he was ready. Even without the alignment of their bodies completely giving him away.

“Don’tcha think this stuff can wait a couple hours, darlin'?"

His baritone, breathless in her ear, was soothing her back into the mindset of being with him. His feather touch still lingering at her hips and waist. She thought back to those seminars she'd gone to on manual therapy where the speaker talked in depth about the fascial tissues running all across the various muscles in the human body and how trauma to one part could cause tension in another like a snag in a sweater and how he taught the participants techniques to undo that trauma through myofascial release. Sy was slowly managing to unwind and unbind the taut fibers of her heart and relieve that pain that Elliott, in particular had set into place so firmly when he'd hurt her. Lied to her. Cheated on her. Gaslit her. Made her feel like she'd never be loved if she left him. Made her question the very idea of what love meant. Because if what they'd had was truly love, she didn't want it. Wanted no part of the games or the abuse or the manipulation.

Without fully realizing it, during this time of reflection and healing, Shane had given up the task at her hands and turned to Sy, open to his treatment, as he'd always been so open to hers…or mostly. And she let him kiss her, reciprocating. And hold her, returning his enveloping embrace. She even let him pick her up, wrapping her legs around his waist, resting them on his…all too well-defined bilateral gluteus maximus that she'd had to pretend to ignore for weeks. In the therapist side of her brain, alarm bells were going off. "His knee isn't fully healed! You're gonna undo all of the work you've both done so far! He's gonna hurt himself carrying you around!" but she ignored them and trusted him as he walked to her room.

Shane wanted to say that her bedroom was one of splendor. Immaculately made bed, and overall, the picture of tidiness. The reality was much, MUCH different. Glasses half full of water were everywhere (she may be forgetful, but at least she was optimistic), at least one coffee mug sat on the nightstand from the previous weekend when she took a morning cup of tea in bed with her George Harrison biography. Laundry overflowed from a sorting hamper in the corner, and her bed sat, unmade, littered with crumpled pillows, sheets, blankets, and the pajamas she'd slept in last night. She wasn't the kind of person to make her bed for reasons other than having company over, like the fancy company you had to give a tour of your whole house. She'd tried to be that person numerous times, but it never seemed to stick.

Tonight, though, the guilt that came with sub-par housekeeping skills wasn't plaguing her. Right now, all she felt was the weightlessness of being with Sy, wrapped in him, kissing him, and fully ready for what was about to happen between them, as he fell with her onto her bed. Their heads clunked together awkwardly, invoking a mutual wince, followed by bouts of laughter and playful kisses.

He hovered over her a moment, just taking her in. His fingers ghosting her forehead and cheeks to clear it of the whisps of hair obscuring her face. He seemed to examine her in methodical quadrants. Learning the curves and colors and every wrinkle, freckle, and pore. She was still fully clothed, but she'd never felt so bare and vulnerable.

He left her eyes for last. His gaze drowning her delightfully. Random song lyrics came to mind, "the serenity of a clear blue mountain lake" and she thought yes. That is the precise aesthetic of this man's stare. His expression was inscrutable. She wanted to say he looked happy and content, but she didn't want to presume.

He began tracing the floral pattern on her dress with his fingers, and said, "I really like this dress on you."

She laughed, "Oh, that's the beginning of the oldest line in the book. You know you've already got me in bed, right?"

"No, I…" he chuckled, embarrased. "I mean it sincerely. Seeing you in flowers like this…makes me think they bloom right from ya."

She propped herself up on her elbows, dumbstruck by this uncharacteristically poetic side of him she'd just been shown. She stroked the side of his face.

"The man who came up with the original pickup line is rolling over in his grave attempting to kick himself for not thinking of something so beautiful."

"Yeah?"

"HELL yeah. He would have gotten WAY more lucky with a statement like that."

"You're probably right." he said, pulling her up to hold her in his arms.

"If for no other reason that it would have landed him a higher caliber woman than the floozies that he probably got."

He moaned his ascent against her neck, and continued, "Which would have meant a lot more getting lucky down the road, right?"

"Traditionally speaking, I'd say yes." she laughed, her fingers in his hair, which was barely long enough for the action.

"Okay, I know I said I liked the dress, but…" he tugged at the hemline tucked just under her hips and pulled it off her willing body.

"About time, cowboy!" she smiled, breathless.

He continued kissing her as he unhooked her strapless bra and tossed it aside, into the abyss, where the dress had gone. She was so dizzy from him that she barely noticed he was laying her down until her warm back hit cool sheets. She could feel his touch everywhere at once, despite the fact that he was really only making two or three points of contact.

Shane trembled as Sy peppered her soft body with kisses. She couldn't recall shivering like this before, especially when there was nothing but warmth, even heat, around her. His beard grazing her hips and thighs was sending tremors through her unlike anything she'd ever felt. She was a goner, and he hadn't even truly begun.

His breath against her skin was like lightning in the clouds. A storm began forming within, and all around them from his work on her…and eventually in her. He took the time to remove both of the shirts he was wearing--plaid cotton blend and thick white jersey. She reached out to run her fingertips over his chest, covered in a manly stand of thick, dark hair. It ran over his pecs and down his abdomen…farther, she knew, than was exposed right now.

She wanted to touch him. To return the favor. To stir in him the same tempest he'd stirred in her. She unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. She was a little surprised he wasn't resisting her, but pleased, all the same. She took the heavy weight of him out in some shock…she'd caught outlines and silhouettes often since they'd been together, but he hadn't let her go this far yet. It had made her feel a little slutty at the time, but now, she understood. He was…protecting her, in a way. She handled him curiously, gently, as he'd been with her. Her apprehension, however, grew with him.

"Sy, you're…I…" she wasn't sure what to say. But she had concerns about being rent in two by him.

"I think I remember tellin' ya you wouldn't be laughin,' sunshine." he grinned at her, breathless as she stroked him.

"You were right. But don't get too used to me saying so." she smirked back at him.

He pulled away from her, reluctantly, but eager to get back to tasting her.

She couldn't comprehend what he was doing. But it felt incredible. No one she'd ever been with had made her feel like this. Like her blood was effervescent and her body was aglow like embers. His reaction to her was as much a part of the pleasure as his ministrations themselves. She could tell he was enjoying himself which fed her desire.

She felt a tension coiling inside her, something similar to climaxes past but she could tell, much more intense. What was different? Other than Sy, she didn't know. But it was working. She moaned and writhed into him.

"Yeah, sugar. Let that out. I wanna hear it." he quickened, driving her mad and sending her spinning into her bliss, incomprehensible words and sounds escaping her, growls of satisfaction escaping him, but he didn't stop.

She felt his fingers working inside her to pull another climax from deep within her. This was new for her, as well. Not only was he putting her first, but he was making her a priority in double measure before taking anything for himself. As that pressure built in her again, she felt his gaze on her, hungry and adoring, and she heard his grunts of exertion and she thought, lust. She wasn't sure how many of his digits he'd managed to slide into her, but it felt splendid, and she wanted more. She gripped his arms to convey this desire, words caught in her throat. He dove headlong back down to her, adding his mouth to the onslaught of his hand, and before she could get out more than a "Fuuuu" she was falling apart again, her body spasming and writhing beneath his utter oral perfection. Eventually, she finished the word when she ran out of air and had to take in a large gasp on the "uck."

She watched him kiss around her thighs and hips, in awe of him in his entirety.

Breathless, she asked, "Why are you so good to me, Sy?"

"Well, a wise woman once told me, 'good go to heaven.'" he looked coyly up at her. "I think I'm there, sunshine."

"Ya know, you're the best patient I've ever had." she smiled.

"Well, I should hope so." he boasted as he kissed at her breasts, nipping at the taut, dark bud in the center. She gasped. He let go and continued his ascent.

He had a point. Who could have qualified as a "better" patient than him when he'd given her so much? Even more than what they were doing tonight. His kindness. The love he had always shown her, even when she wasn't ready to see it. His strength, but also his vulnerability that she seemed to be the only one ever to see. Combine that with the fact that his mind was basically a steel trap for her every word and it would have made him more than perfect enough for her.

But as he broke away from her kiss to take off his jeans, she marveled at the shape and size of his whole body. Those thick, strong arms, the broad, defined torso, the massive, powerful legs of an avid runner, and a face that God Himself would probably be jealous of, if He was capable of the feeling. This gorgeous exterior that Michelangelo would have killed to sculpt, combined with all of his other amazing qualities, and he was almost too perfect.

He cuddled up next to her, reached up, and caressed her face, still flush with pleasure.

"I could look at this face, and nothin' else for…damn… hours. Maybe days."

She blushed and cast her eyes down, and half whispered, "The feeling is mutual."

"Then why're you lookin' away, darlin'?" he tilted her chin up. "That shy business is cute and all, but you don't have to hide from me, sweetheart."

"Again, it's not you, it's me." she chuckled, nervously.

"You wanna call it a night, for now?" he asked without a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"You're kidding, right?" she raised her eyebrows. "You did all that work getting me ready for you, and I won't let that be a wasted effort." she pulled him to her and into a deep kiss, rolling onto her back and bringing him with her.

"Oh, sugar, that wasn't no wasted effort. That was time well spent. No matter what." he said in short bursts when he could pull away from her lips.

He lifted himself up and over her, kneeling between her legs, already open for him. She thought he should know how ready she was. Thought it should be painfully obvious. But he asked anyway.

"You ready, sunshine?" he asked, as he opened the condom and rolled it on…damn he was slick! She hadn't even noticed him get it from wherever he'd had it. She presumed his jeans pocket, which would explain much. She had been very distracted by his naked perfection.

"Yes. Please." she had been struck with an urgency as they stood here on the verge of everything.

He sunk slowly into her, the contentment of coming home spread over his face, the bliss of being whole spreading over hers. No, she thought. She was more than whole. She'd always felt mostly whole during sex. Sy made her feel as though she was overflowing with herself. And not just because she was overflowing with him. The way he moved in her, over her, with her, it was like he was afraid she'd turn to vapor around him before he could finish. Like she was nothing more substantial than a bubble full of smoke, and he thought she may burst and disappear. Although, you couldn't tell from the tight grip he kept on her. A bruising grip that she thought might have had a chance of popping a football. She didn't care. She wanted him to touch and hold her like this until they had no more to give each other.

As they built toward their mutual undoing, the world and everything in it faded away. There was no personal drama or injury. Nothing but the euphoria of this newfound oneness. The caresses and thrusts and groans of pleasure were the only things that mattered. Each other, and what they found therein.

“Shane.” He whispered to her, his pinnacle nigh.

“Sy!” She whimpered, that familiar tension approaching its apex.

He kissed her, as if he meant to permanently emboss her onto the bedding and onto his lips. She reeled as she came undone, little sparks of light obscuring her vision for a fraction of a second. He followed her closely, breathless and spent.

He laid down beside her, as close to her as possible, and began drawing mindless circular patterns on her stomach and around her breasts.

“Wow.” She said, almost under her breath.

“How ya feelin,’ sunshine?”

“Mmm, boneless. Dazed. Half wishing we’d done that weeks ago. I didn’t have a clue what I was missing.”

“Oh, I think you had an idea.” He said as he neatly doffed and disposed of the prophylactic in the waste can by her bed.

“Okay, a bit.” She chuckled. “It’s not like you can hide that…thing.”

“And I don’t try to, darlin’!” He kissed her forehead “Well, I don’t hide it just anywhere, put it that way.” He smirked at his dirty joke and she swatted him for it.

“You’re bad!”

“And you love it.”

She couldn’t argue. She loved his badness and his goodness and everything in between.

Up Next: Chapter Eleven- Discharge Plan 

#netflix #netflix sand castle #sand castle #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x ofc #captain syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x ofc #sigh for sy #syverson smut #Smut

[thelittlestcheshire]

even if you have to cry, don't let your crown fall

a love letter to luxor’s ches elswood

Well, it’s finally time that I feel ready to post this, and while I’m aware it may be bittersweet with my upcoming departure, I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Today I present to you a three hour Ches playlist, divided into sections and covering her entire time at Luxor, from when I first picked her up in June of 2019 all the way to now. There’s quite a few plot references, and small (and not as small) references to other muses throughout, especially when it comes to Elliot, so keep an eye out for those as well!

I’d like to thank Lex for giving me the idea to make these, and her support throughout the process because without her, these playlists wouldn’t even exist. And thank you to everyone who has gone on this journey with us, while I’m sorry I need to dip out early after this event to focus on my health, I love y’all so much.

The standard Ches tws apply (poor mental health, alcoholism, etc etc), and anything I think may be a bit abnormal / section exclusive is noted on the sections.

twist me like a key, then you open the lock | pre-luxor:

the section of time before I played Ches at Luxor, very James heavy. additional tws: Death (Sign of the Times), Toxic relationships (nothing explicit tho)

Sign of the Times (Jasmine Thompson) [ Remember everything will be alright. We can meet again somewhere, somewhere far away from here. ] // Sweet Ophelia (Zella Day) [ Singing like it's a full moon, careless now that he has you. Turns you on to the right songs, promises that you're hooked on. ] // Couple of Kids (Maggie Lindemann) [ Now I'm fallin' heavily, recklessly, trying not to lose my sensibility; but gravity, it pulls me into you. ] // Glowstick (Sofia Karlberg) [ You play me like a line-up; long con, you make me wise up. ] // Crying in the Club (Camila Cabello) [ Ain't no crying in the club, hey, hey, let the beat carry away, your tears as they fall, baby. Ain't no crying in the club, hey, hey, with a little faith, your tears turn to ecstasy. ] // Ember (Katherine McNamara) [ Reignite; you lost your grip on me, and now I blaze wild and free. ]

nobody shows up unless i'm paying, have a drink on me cheers to the failing | summer & fall 2019:

the first time I was at Luxor playing ches, from June - October 2019

7 rings (Ariana Grande) [ Been through some bad shit, I should be a sad bitch. Who woulda thought it'd turn me to a savage? ] // I'm a Mess (Bebe Rexha) [ “It's gonna be a good, good life;” that's what my therapists say. ] // OMG (Little Mix) [ Oh my gosh, I did it again. He said I broke his heart, it keeps happening. ] // Only Angel (Harry Styles) [ Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short, but I think that's what I like about it. ] // LA Devotee (Panic! At The Disco) [ Drinking white wine in the blushing light, just another LA Devotee. ] // Woman Like Me (Little Mix feat. Nicki Minaj) [ I made a few mistakes, I regret it nightly. I broke a couple hearts that I wear on my sleeve. ]

all of this emptiness i've been sharing, it never comes when i want it to | winter 2019:

the period of time Ches went home to be with her family and was away from luxor additional tws: vomiting (Habits (Stay High))

Carmen (Lana Del Rey) [ Darlin’, darlin’, doesn't have a problem lyin’ to herself ‘cause her liquor’s top shelf ] // How You Remind Me (Avril Lavigne) [ And I've been wrong, I've been down, been to the bottom of every bottle. These five words in my head scream, "Are we havin' fun yet?" ] // Playing God (Paramore) [ This is the last second chance (I'll point you to the mirror). I'm half as good as it gets (I'll point you to the mirror). I'm on both sides of the fence (I'll point you to the mirror). Without a hint of regret, I'll hold you to it ] // Habits {Stay High} (Tove Lo) [ Staying in my play pretend, where the fun ain't got no end. Oh, can't go home alone again, need someone to numb the pain. ] // Bedroom Window (The Pretty Reckless) [ As I look out of my bedroom window; is it all real or just fantasy? I have lost touch with what makes me human, I have lost touch with reality. ] // Impossible Year (Panic! At The Disco) [ There's no sunshine, this impossible year; only black days and sky grey and clouds full of fear. ]

i wouldn't say you got the best of me, i'd say you got me somewhere in between | spring 2020:

Ches’s return to Luxor, and the months following leading up to her mass text about Leo’s dad following the Lake Bash

3 O'Clock Things (AJR) [ Would you go running if you saw the real me? Maybe you'd love 'em, yeah, maybe you'd feel me. ] // Wild Heart (Bleachers) [ Well, everything has changed and now I can't tell what matters. I will find any way to your wild heart. ] // Rise (Katy Perry) [ When the fire's at my feet again and the vultures all start circling. They're whispering, “you're out of time.” But still, I rise. ] // Don't Stop Me Now (Queen) [ I'm a rocket ship on my way to Mars on a collision course. I am a satellite, I'm out of control. ] // Princesses Don't Cry (CARYS) [ Girls, so pretty and poised and soft to the touch, but God made me rough. Girls, so heavy the crown, they carry it tall, but it's weighing me down. ] // Save Rock And Roll (Fall Out Boy feat. Elton John) [ You are what you love, not who loves you. In a world full of the word 'yes', I'm here to scream... no, no (no, no). ] // Making a Monster out of Me (Katherine McNamara) [ And I don't know how to recollect the morals that I always did possess. Don't know where its leading me. ] // We Don't Have To Dance (Andy Black) [ You're never gonna get it, I'm a hazard to myself. I'll break it to you easy. This is hell, this is hell. ]

tonight it's alright, i can see the tunnel at the end of these lights | summer 2020:

summer camp and the months leading up to a new school year

Night Owls Early Birds (Foxes) [ A wild fire inside me burns. Why do I look like I'm wear for worse? Save me, save me, go underneath the ground. ] // Too Much (Carly Rae Jepsen) [ When I party, then I party too much. When I feel it, then I feel it too much. When I'm thinking, then I'm thinking too much. When I'm drinking, then I'm drinking too much. ] // Royal Blue (Alberto Rosende) [ My regrets are a shade around my neck I know. It's torturous, and there's a burden that I can't let go. ] // Who You Selling For (The Pretty Reckless) [ And when Roger showed me I was building a wall. I've been waiting a long time, waiting a long time, waiting a long time, waiting for it to fall. ] // Heavy (Linkin Park feat. Kiiara) [ You say that I'm paranoid, but I’m pretty sure the world is out to get me. It’s not like I make the choice to let my mind stay so fucking messy. ] // The Archer (Taylor Swift) [ I've been the archer, I've been the prey; screaming, “who could ever leave me,” darling. But who could stay? ] // Everybody Lost Somebody (Bleachers) [ And there's a reason I wake up alone in strange places, a reason I see myself in a million faces, a reason I can't stop it all from changing. So come on, motherfucker, you survive, you gotta give yourself a break. ]

no cameras catch my muffled cries. i counted days, i counted miles | fall and winter 2020(/21):

a new school year, from the start of the semester right until the aftermath of the kings’ party

So It Goes (Guards) [ I don't know who I am but I do know who I'm not. I'm just looking for a friend, I'm still searching for the plot. ] // Wasabi (Little Mix) [ Love to hate me, praise me, shame me; either way, you talk about me. ] // Think Before I Talk (Astrid S) [ Maybe I should think before I talk; I get emotional and words come out all wrong. Sometimes I'm more honest than I want. ] // Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince (Taylor Swift) [ No cameras catch my muffled cries. I counted days, I counted miles to see you there, to see you there. And now the storm is coming, but... ] // Sober Up (AJR feat. Rivers Cuomo) [ Won't you help me sober up? Growin' up, it made me numb, and I wanna feel somethin' again. ] // The Show Must Go On (Queen) [ Empty spaces, what are we living for? Abandoned places, I guess we know the score, on and on. Does anybody know what we are looking for? ] // Waiting For A Friend (The Pretty Reckless) [ My head is like a prison cell, I'm all by myself. I'm waiting for my friend to come and break me out. ] // Sober (Demi Lovato) [ I'm sorry that I'm here again, I promise I'll get help. It wasn't my intention, I'm sorry to myself. ] // Eight (Sleeping At Last) [ I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough to hold the door shut, and bury my innocence. But here's a map, here's a shovel, here's my Achilles' heel. ]

i got this handled, i don't need rescuing | spring and early summer 2021:

ches’s progress from the end of march until now

The Man (Taylor Swift) [ I’m so sick of running as fast as I can, wondering if I'd get there quicker if I was a man. And I'm so sick of them coming at me again, 'cause if I was a man, then I'd be the man. ] // Princess (FLETCHER) [ But we're all going through it, so why do we do it? Why do we hide? ] // Humpty Dumpty (AJR) [ If I can't breathe, then you can't see, but aren't you excited that I'm giving you the best me? ] // My Mistake (Gabrielle Aplin) [ Am I jaded? Am I meant to feel this way?  I'm a loser, getting beat by my own game. But if I falter, well, at least it was my mistake. ] // The Climb (Miley Cyrus) [ The struggles I'm facing, the chances I'm taking; sometimes might knock me down, but no, I'm not breaking. ] // breathin (Ariana Grande) [ Some days, things just take way too much of my energy. I look up and the whole room's spinning. You take my cares away. ] // Clean (Taylor Swift) [ Ten months sober, I must admit just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it. Ten months older, I won't give in, now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it. ] // Not a Pop Song (Little Mix) [ A hamster on a wheel that's how it feels tryna be real. These unrealistic expectations said we'll make it if we fake it. ] // Queen (Loren Gray) [ Eyes on me like I'm a prize but you better recognize I'm not your angel 'cause I belong to me. ] // The Cure (Little Mix) [ This happiness was always inside me but Lord, it took a minute to find me. ]

#musings ( playlists ) #all of my heroes died all alone ( musings ) #death tw #abuse tw #alcoholism tw #alcohol tw #vomit tw #vomiting tw #vomit mention tw

[statticscribbles]

Cheat Day

Summary: Malachai/Plus Sized!Reader Request: Malachai having a bad day and him being upset because he can’t be with his girl because he messed up by cheating with a ghoulie and her going to comfort him even tho she’s upset because he’s always relaxed with her especially when she was on his lap so she sees him at the wyrm cause he’s tryna talk with Fp and him crying cause he sees her and she goes to him

“Y/N baby I swear it was nothing I just-“ “Just what? You had to get another drink, had to pretend for a job? Had to make sure the other Ghouls left her alone? Couldn’t blow your cover? Was playing truth or dare? Got bored? I wasn’t around? You got caught in the moment? Hm? Which one Malachai?” “Well; I-“ “Sorry did I miss an excuse? Give me a second to think, actually give me the rest of the day. I don’t want to fucking see your face around here.” You lick your lips knowing the other Serpent’s are hovering close by, you shove him back turning and walking back into the Wyrm to hide. You peek from the window feeing more and more regretful and guilty by the second as you watch him fumbling to start his bike and speeding off. You sigh dragging yourself from the window and sinking into one of the chairs.

“Y/N? What the fuck you doing in here?  Aren’t you normally with Malachai?” “Fuck off FP.” “Oh so you got in a fight then.” “I said fuck off.” You snarl shoving him back and stalking to the upstairs part of the Wyrm to hide for the rest of the day. It’s ten minutes later when you can hear the door open and FP groaning. “She’s not here Malachai; just-no don’t fine, go sit in the arm chair at least.” You peer down from the upstairs loft watching as Malachai slumps into the armchair by the window. “You know those are going to get eaten right?” “Not if y’all don’t touch ‘em they wont.” Malachai glares from FP to the box of macarons he’s brought in to apologize.

“She’s not here.” You can feel FP glaring at him with how Malachai wilts. “She’s fucking upstairs and she hates me and she’s gonna break up with me and-“ “Oh my god no I’m not playing therapist Y/N get your ass down here and sort out your pathetic Ghoul boyfriend.” “You could just kick him out you know.” You call from the upstairs and you can feel FP glaring at you. “Like fuck I’m gonna kick him out and have to deal with him staring in the window like the depressed puppy who can’t have any treats.” You chuckle before walking down the stairs. You can see when Malchai spots you his face lights up and he nudges the box forward. “You didn’t need to get me those you know that right?” He nods and you turn slightly when he stands to kiss you. “I’m still upset.” He hangs his head nodding. “I know;I’m sorry babe I just;”

“You made a mistake, and you need to find how to correct it.” He nods and you sigh. “Come here then.” You sigh nodding to the couch you sit on before he drapes himself around you. You offer him a macaron smiling slightly when you bite into your own. “You smiled.” “Of course; you’re very good at bringing apology gifts; not so good at the apology of course.” “I’m trying; I swear I just-“ “If you don’t make the mistake you have no need to apologise; speaking of that.” You trail off standing up laughing when his arm snakes around you, almost clinging onto you. “We should go back home.” He grins nodding. “What’s got you happy now?”

“You didn’t say my home.” “Why would I? We’re still together; oh my god, okay every time you mess up doesn’t mean I’m going to leave you. Jesus you are like a puppy.” “I’m not.” “So if I go off for the rest of the day?” You can’t help but laugh when his arm tightens around yours. “Babe.” He whines and you can see FP nod towards the door. “Yes FP?” “Can you and your wailing ghoul please leave.” He laughs and you swallow nodding. “Of course.” Malachai hesitates looking nervous as you walking slightly faster out of the Wyrm. “Baby what’s wrong?” “You cheated on me. I can’t; that hurts. We can talk about it at home; please.” You sigh the realization of a long emotional conversation weighing down on you already. “Of course love; we can do whatever you want.”

“We do need to talk.” You hate the shiver that the words bring up and you can feel Malachai tense slightly; you’re sure you’re both just as anxious dreading as you step through the house of the dead; malachai clearing the Ghouls who are still lounging around after the last party. “I’m assuming this conversation is something you don’t want the entirety of the Serpent’s to hear; hence why we left.” He chews his lip and you swallow. “Do you sleep with the other Ghoulies because you’re not attracted to me anymore? I get if you are that usually how people end up feeling about-“ He cuts you off with a hug, face inches from yours. “No. nothing like that.” He breathes out and you sigh.

“What? Do you not believe me or-“ “I was expecting you to kiss me.” “I can do that if you want.” He grins and you nod. “That why I said it.” He nods leaning the distance to kiss you., you can feel his hands pulling you against him and you smile as he deepens the kiss walking backward towards his bedroom. “I’m still mad at you.” “You should take your anger out on me then.” He hums and you look unimpressed. “And how should I do that then?” He smirks leaning forward to whisper in your ear.

“Make sure everyone knows I’m yours just by looking at me; I’m sure you can think of a way to make it obvious and visible hm?” You laugh nodding looking past him towards his bed. “Well if you insist I guess I just have to right?” He nods sitting down on his bed looking up at you. You shake your head and he frowns. “You’re still wearing clothes. That’s not very good for me taking my anger out; I don’t want to rip them off you.” “I do.” Malachai coughs slightly and you tilt your chin at him. “You want me to rip your clothes off?” He shrugs a little avoiding looking you in the eye. “Mals; what do you want from me?” “Everything.” You grin stepping forward and shedding your clothes until you’re standing in front of him. “You always have that. you always have me. Do I have you always?” He nods licking his lips hands reaching out for you.

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[poisonheadcrabsalesman]

More therapy thoughts part 1/?

Behavior Theory Frameworks/Conditioning and What the fuck does Master Chief talk about in therapy?

Ramblings below - like a lot, like I spent too much time writing this and you should not read this

Behavioral Theory could work well as a framework with rehabilitating Spartan IIs if the case worker focused on Operant Conditioning Theory and Cognitive Social Learning Theory, which I talked about in this ask because I think I’m funny and this blog is an archive of me applying human behavior theories to video games.

Spartans have always been taught the mission comes first! Always! The 2s are indoctrinated from age 6-14 and then have that reinforced the rest of their lives. From the beginning they are taught to push themselves to the limits, earn their food by winning, form bonds with teammates but be ready to sacrifice them for the mission. The whole lives wasted vs spent conversation between John and Mendez after the augmentation surgery!

What the UNSC/ONI wants comes before their lives, the lives of other soldiers, civilians, AI etc. This constant conditioning of expectations and rewards has created the norms cemented in their minds. This becomes standard operating procedure.

Spartans are also an entirely separated social group, other people have made really great posts on how they are Othered and have their own way of communicating with body language. ODSTs hate Spartans, marines see them as cyborgs or saviors, and while they’re allies, Spartans are not seen or treated as human, by literally everyone. They are a means to an end, with the original goal being to maintain the UNSC’s position of power and crush the insurrectionists in the outer colonies, but uh oh Aliens!

Maybe the 2s aren’t as expendable as the 3s but the mindset and reinforcement of “mission first, people second” being repeated their entire lives is going to stick. So is the constant mistreatment and abuse from their fellow soldiers and handlers. 

Addressing the cognitive distortions that come from their upbringing while also balancing the fact that Spartans are so fundamentally different from the way they developed to survive would be so much work, especially considering how much information on them is given to their therapist.  The main distortion I would apply is minimization, making large problems small and not properly dealing with them, and specifically for John, personification, accepting blame for negative events without sufficient evidence. 

Like these are grown ass super soldiers who can kill you in less than a second and calculate the amount of gravity in a room on the fly but then also can flounder when trying to comfort civilians or make small talk because their experiences and values are so alien to adults who had more developmentally “normal” lives. 

Literally applying therapy to Spartans would be like, what was done to you was wrong, the ends do not justify the means, you were children and the adults in your life failed to protect you. You are a human person who is fallible and did the best you could with what you had. And the Spartan would say, “sounds fake but okay, can I pass my psych eval and go back to war now please?”

Jumping back to Behavior Theory

Different approaches to therapy under the Behavior Theory umbrella help modify negative behaviors with treatments like Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Dialectical behavior therapy that teach individuals adaptive coping like emotional regulation, distress tolerance, cognitive distortions, and interpersonal communication. And that’s just one framework under the umbrella of human behavior theories.

Social work therapy is different from psych as it approaches individuals with heavily researched, evidence-based theories and frameworks in a holistic viewing of person-in-environment, instead of a strong focus on internal psychology. 

Social work looks at all the interacting systems, environment, history, and internal and external factors affecting an individual. One of the most useful frameworks is the Biopsychosocial-Spiritual Frameworks (BPSS) when helping a client. It helps with identifying all the intersecting factors, both risk and protective, that shapes a client’s lived experiences. The most important thing to remember is that the individual is an expert in their own life, they know their experiences best.

The hardest part is applying this to Spartans because they Are So Fucked, their lived experiences, their environments and systems and institutions interacting with them, and the amount of their personal information that is probably so classified.

BPSS is a tool to help social workers assess individuals and their situations by collecting info that is related to the presenting issues and current and past circumstances. Info like medical history, hospitalizations, substance abuse, mental illness, personal relationships, family history and background, culture and norms, education, legal history, spirituality and participation etc. is all under this framework. 

For Spartan 2s most of this info is lost or classified and helping someone who has repressed every negative emotion they've had for the sake of the mission would be so much to unpack but that’s also why you’re reading the mad ramblings over an over caffeinated nerd on the internet.

Life Course Theory which looks at developmental milestones and the individual’s experiences versus the socially expected markers, how do you apply that to children who were taken and have lived such different lives? 

While early adolescence is when “normal” development of thoughts of self and identity take place alongside the physical changes of puberty, Spartans were being turned into emotionless calculating weapons. Sorry John, no forming a sense of identity and peer bonds for you, go kill that Watts guy who betrayed us and joined the insurrectionists. 

And now that I’ve gone this insane and opened 2 whole textbooks up, let’s get to Master Chief thoughts. If you’ve read this far thank you, I swear I’m normal, 2020 has just been a weird year. 

Why the fuck did I think I could write a therapy fic on a guy with 20 minutes of actual dialogue across almost 2 decades of games?

I make fun of him and call him a himbo, but he’s smart, he knows he’s being used and there is resentment there that’s been building for years. 

There’s also decades of trauma and combat experience, physical, and emotional abuse, the lack of a support network,  lack of an identity, the biological factors and aftermath of the augmentations and injuries he’s received, a whole lot of grief and self-inflicted guilt. 

The loss of a third of his peer group with the augmentation surgery, Sam’s death, the loss of Reach (the only place he’s considered home), Keyes, the Pillar of Autumn crew, Miranda Keyes, Johnson, Cortana. He cares about the marines who fight with him!!!

He just stands there and takes it and rarely snaps, and even then it’s just small cracks on the surface with fissures running deep. The few details I will pull from Halo 5 are Blue Team’s reactions to John pushing himself so hard from the beginning of the game, and the literal crack in his armor from the fight with Locke. Like dude.  

John’s a leader and will get the mission done but he tugs on the leash. He’s earned enough of a reputation and uses it to get his way.

Halo 2’s “Permission to leave the station” with Mr. “I’m going to hand deliver a bomb to the fusion reactor of a covenant supercarrier and hope my friends catch me”. 

Halo 4 is when we see him say no to a superior officer and then 5 is him going AWOL. Palmer literally points out that no one is going to stop him.

Halo 5 kills me for many reasons but John bringing up Halsey and what she did to him and also pointing out that he knows Halo 5 Cortana is trying to manipulate him with psychological tactics hurts. 

He knows what’s been done to him!

I cannot remember which book it was but John isn’t used to working alone. He literally takes fire because he was expecting someone to have his back! 

He’s lost without Cortana! She was in his brain! Y’all! I played Halo Combat Evolved on the original xbox when I was like 8 and I knew these two were meant to be together. From the moment they met they had great chemistry and relied on each other! Cortana literally goes after people who have it out for John! John wants her approval and shows off for her in one of the books. 

I’ve already written too much here but like all of the games have John showing off for Cortana, making dry jokes, jumping out of things he shouldn’t. 

The whole point of this rambling is to try and get my thoughts about how to approach John’s character under control.

And that’s the thing. He’s lost control. He’s lost people, he’s losing his position and being phased out as an aging spartan, a relic. John’s used to following orders and making some decisions on the battlefield but it was always short term.

He has no identity beyond being a weapon. Complete the mission, clear the LZ, get put in cryo. Rinse, repeat. 

The timeline of the games are what I'm most familiar with but with the comics and books too it’s one long run from Halo 2 to Halo 4. Cairo station to the Dreadnought to the crash landing to Forward Unto Dawn to Requiem to “The Didact is Dead but not really but we’ll deal with him off-screen”.

I know Hood apparently gave John R&R orders before Halo 5 that he ignored and kept running himself into the ground. This is a man who has to keep moving and keep being useful. 

I imagine him giving in and seeking help as a last resort to fix any problems he has with performing his duties rather than helping himself be healthier. 

Any professional he sees is going to have to approach him like they’re approaching a self sacrificing feral cat, with lunch meat and quiet. This man needs to have his support network closer, set up long term goals, and do some serious, and most likely incredibly painful, self reflection on where he’s come from and where he wants to go. Get him out of that tin can and into therapy. I don’t have a nice neat ending because this was a ramble and also therapy is not neat and tidy. Thanks for reading my words about mr halo

#this is not coherent but it needs out of my brain #John - has different characterizations based on what media he's in #Me - my writing must be in character or I Will Die #also me - we don't talk about halo 5 but i will loot its corpse for bits of lore I like #im sorry for being like this #my writing #Therapy time #John 117 #this is not a halo blog #haha this was peer reviewed nonsense #thanks yall for enabling me #i have even more ideas for the infinity sitcom folder now

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

It’s been awhile since I truly ranted about my clueless boomer father. it’s absolutely not because he’s been less awful. in fact he’s been so overly awful that I’ve not had the energy to really type out an entire vent post. 

Let’s rectify that! (Disclaimer: this shit is LONG)

So those of you who aren’t new round these parts are well versed in how clueless and selfish my “I’m not like other boomers” (def is) father. You might also know how introverted I am.

Now that word gets tossed around a lot by people who just enjoy their own company or enjoy socializing but need time to recharge, and that’s all well and good. But my personal introversion is much more... serious. Like, I can socialize but it’s draining pretty quickly, save a few people who don’t suck the life out of me because they arent work to hang out with and dont require me to entertain them. I need more recharge time than socializing time by a significant margin. Last summer my father went on vacation for a week (Bailey stayed with grandma) and during that week I didn’t verbally speak to a single fucking soul except when The Spawn (who didn’t live here at the time) came by for something. Best week of my fucking life. 

The less I’m able to recharge, the more unpleasant I become. This is important. 

So we all know that my father likes to claim a lot of things are that clearly bullshit. Among those things is the claim that he doesn’t need friends or socialization because he’s “like me” and the claim that he respects my space and need for down time. these things aren’t true. at all. Let’s look at why I saw that...

This man insists on telling me every small annoyance that happens through his day. Every single fucking day I have to hear (and read texts) repeatedly about how ignorant his coworkers are, the amount of unmasked people at stores/gas stations, & just generally self absorbed people he encounters. EVERY DAY. He clearly needs someone to socialize with. 

He will also just walk into my living room and plop down. Then he starts fucking talking or bitching at the dogs for jumping around on him. If I am watching something, he starts asking questions/commenting on whatever I’m watching. If I’m wearing headphones (which are massive and cover my ENTIRE EAR very obviously) he will stare at me and start talking until I pull my headphones off and say “What?! What is so fucking urgent?!” 

I’ve been getting progressively more short with him. I don’t answer texts that aren’t actually about something. When he interrupts me for something I KNOW will be frivolous bullshit, I exaggeratedly huff, then either rip off my headphones or pointedly pause what I’m watching and say “WHAT?! What do you need?!” If he’s bitching about the dogs playing on the couch while he tries to sit on it (which they do to me CONSTANTLY btw and I just make it work) I snap at him to just move to the fucking chair or shut up. If he goes to bitch about a coworker or people he encounters while out, I just say, “You already told me about this.” in and incredibly short tone, to which he responds “Well I wanted to make sure.” in a huffy tone. 

His most recent two days have really taken the fucking cake. 

So The Spawn frequently goes up to see her godfather, D, in Colorado over school breaks. He usually puts her on a plane or comes to get her, but with her having a car, she’s decided to take a friend with her and have her first Big Girl road Trip. She will be gone a little overr a week and she, the friend, D, and I all meticulously planned it out. My father comes in day before yesterday and says, “Hey do you want me to take vacation time while The Spawn is gone so I can be here?” I look deeply confused, “Why the fuck would you do that?” his response: “Well, I didn’t know if you’d need someone here to help with the dogs during the day while she’s gone.” 

Y’all I nearly died laughing. “Her not being here changes literally NOTHING about how the dogs are handled during the day. When she is here, she is in her room. It’s really funny that you think I have help during the day considering how often I’ve bitched about the fact that I take care of the dogs that aren’t mine far too much.” 

Then yesterday, I had spent the day employing my general tactics to discourage him from harassing me with useless bullshit. At some point, I cut him off from talking AGAIN about “ignorant, maskless, redneck gatherings at the gas station” by saying, “YES YOU TOLD ME AT LEAST 3 FUCKING TIMES. I GET IT. PEOPLE DON’T WEAR MASKS AND IT PISSES YOU OFF. IT’S BEEN A FUCKING YEAR. DEAL WITH IT. Why in the fuck do you insist on telling me this crap?” This fucking idiot laughed and said “I need to vent to someone.” I then told him to get a fucking friend or get a fucking therapist but I am not here for him to fucking vent to. 

At the end of last night I finally lost it. I blew up on him about how I have zero privacy, nobody fucking respects my space or my need to recharge my social batteries, so I’m just constantly running on empty which means I’m getting progressively more unpleasant and frankly downright mean. Near the end I said “I’m sorry but...” and intended to tell him EXACTLY what he is doing that is causing this shit but true to fucking form, this motherfucker INTERRUPTS ME and says  “Oh I never take any of this personally. no apology needed. goodnight.” and goes up to bed. 

YOU SHOULD TAKE IT PERSONALLY YOU STUPID PIECE OF SELF ABSORBED SHIT!!!! YOU ARE THE FUCKING PROBLEM!!! MY NEARLY 17 YEAR OLD CHILD HAS MORE AWARENESS OF MY NEED TO RECHARGE AND NOT BE AROUND PEOPLE CONSTANTLY THAN YOU DO DESPITE ME TELLING YOU ABOUT MY NEEDS IN VERY PLAIN LANGUAGE THAT A FUCKING 5 YEAR OLD COULD UNDERSTAND!!! 

LEAVE.   ME.   THE.   FUCK.   ALONE.  unless the subject of what you want to talk about impacts me directly in some way or i INVITE YOU into a conversation. I don’t vent to him unless it impacts him or the household... so why the fuck can’t he show the same courtesy? Also that whole “respect your space and not invade it” thing... on the rare occasion that he doesn’t just invite himself in and plop down in my space expecting my fucking attention, he will HOVER in the ‘doorway’ to my rooms until I acknowledge his presence, at which point he takes as an invitation. I’ve done an experiment. If I ignore the hovering, he will stand there up to 30 mins, at which point he will ask me a question and when I answer he takes it as an invitation. Like, I know my living room and BEDROOM don’t have doors but that doesn’t mean you have an open invite to just come into them whenever. You want to pet your dog but she’s on my bed? Call her. She’ll come over to you. Want to watch something with me? ASK and then, if I say yes, don’t fucking talk to me. I agreed to watch something, not have a fucking conversation. 

oh but directly telling him any of this doesn’t work because he “doesn’t take any of this personally.” Ok, it’s one thing to not take it personally when I snap at you because I’m in an astronomical amount of pain that day and accidentally snapped. When that happens, I apologize and explain. but if I don’t mention my pain, apologize, or explain then YOU ARE THE REASON IM SNAPPING YOU STUPID FUCK. 

end rant. if you read this whole thing, my condolences on the wasted time. I don’t want/need advice. I’m handling the situation the best I can in my current position. Part of that handling is that while The Spawn is gone, I’m going to do a few days where I’m here for the dogs, then when dad gets off work, J scoops me for the night, then drops me back off in the morning on his way in. He is one of those lovely people that isn’t a drain and if we are sitting in the same room, considers it spending time together. Most times, I lay on his furniture at an awkward looking but comfy angle reading a book while he games. We chat a bit during breaks or when I see him ready to throw the controller at the TV (looking at you Witcher 3...) so that will be lovely. 

as always, don’t steal my shit for your blog, article, youtube, just because you’re boring and fucking lazy. Shoo! Scat! 

[if-found-return-to-gusu]

We’re Back and it’s Time for a STORY

Sooooooooooooo…..

I’ve been a bit uh… let’s say absent lately. Haha. 

I hope you’ve been enjoying the queue and not missing my rapier wit too much. 

:D :D :D :D :D :D :D

To all my rabid (3?) fans, I say…. 

My bad. :D

I haven’t forgotten you, my beautiful followers. And I haven’t cast this blog away by any means. I may have gotten hitched in a scandalous runaway marriage with the love of my life but I will still have time for you! I promise!

I’ve just been… Busy. 

With… stuff…

I’d tell you with what stuff….

But I’m not gonna. 

 :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D

BUT I decided it was high past time for me to take a moment out of my busy schedule to give y’all a little update. 

Besides Lan Zhan decided that since I’m actually home tonight that it was pampering time.

Man sat me down in front of him and is rubbing my shoulders as we speak so if I seem a little nadfj;kjfl;sjf at points blame him.

Anyway

Lan Zhan I know you can read this with your eagle vision.

On to the gossip.

Lan Zhan, I know your family said gossip isn’t allowed but we’re in this family now and Imma gossip. No matter how much you huff through your nose at me.

So Lan Zhan (yes you) gave me a little bit of a heart attack with his last update. But only for like 5 seconds.

-ahem-

NGL for a second I thought HE thought that I was being unfaithful. Nearly died.

Anyway. >w>

Fortunately while I refused to read past even with my heart attack because I will never break the bonds of Peru, Nie Huaisang who was next to me has no qualms in doing so. I wouldn’t let him tell me what Lan Zhan said but he did reassure me that my fears were for naught. Lan Zhan wasn’t upset about me cheating on him because he trusts me and loves me and knows I would never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever  (continue indefinitely) break that trust.

…..

Okay sorry.

Oh yeah. 

Thanks Lan Zhan. I probably woulda got stuck on that loop for a while. But anyway yes. I love you, Lan Zhan, and you love me and we’re happy and there’s no way I’ll ever cheat on you and I know you’d never cheat on me!

I never even felt real attraction before I met you, did I ever tell you that? You were the first person I ever wanted. <3 

Oh… Oh yeah. I did say that. Lol I forgot. :D

Is it bad if I forget what I say in therapy? 

Guess I should ask my therapist :D :D :D

Anyway…. Tangent…. Um…

OH yeah heart attack.

Eventually Lan Zhan did let me read the Peru. Lan Zhan is there a point to the Peru if you just wait for me to get home and shove the lap top in my face and tell me to read it the same day you sent the Peru????

(Yes. I know there is a point. But like you can tell me anything. You don’t have to write it down first if you don’t want to. I don’t want you to ever feel afraid to talk to me. <3 ) 

Okay fine fine. Organize your thoughts first. I get it I get it. 

I guess that’s kinda what I’m doing here too. 

Oooooohhhhh you know what that spot does to me! Not now Lan Zhan I’m busy!!!!

Okay Okay so we talked afterwards. About what he wrote. About how it wasn’t me but Nie Huaisang who felt the bitter wrathful sting of his wild unrestrained jealousy. 

EEK Sorry! I’m kidding! Kidding!

…. Mostly

But you were! You were jealous that I was spending time with him or rather him with me and not you! You said so!

Okay fine! Lonely. 

LONELY BECAUSE YOU WERE JEALLASDF09ADSF 

Okay fine fine! I’ll stop! If only for the sake of THIS WILL MAKE NO SENSE ONCE IT’S TYPED UP BECAUSE IT’S HALF OF A CONVERSATION AND THEY CAN’T HEAR YOU BECAUSE I’M NOT TYPING WHAT YOU SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

YES I KNOW IT’S MY FAULT

Okay 

OKAY!!!! 

SO 

Easy solution.

Lan Zhan and Nie Huaisang have a buddy date! 

That I was dragged along to.

And by that

You know what you did don’t deny it!

I mean I was trying to back off to let them spend time together because I thought that’s what they wanted. I figured they would want to see each other one on one like SangSang and I were doing.

So I caved in like .2 seconds. Because of course I did. And honestly I wanted to go. I was planning on spending the night alone with Suibian waiting for my husband to come home in a sort of lonely penitence for my sins. I’ve been leaving Lan Zhan alone so much lately.

(He kissed my forehead <3 <3 <3 <3 )

Lan Zhan, I promise this won’t keep happening. It’s just… really important okay? I promise.

;asldkjfsa;lkjf

I love you too, Lan Zhan!!!!! Lan Er-Gege! <3 

Eep! 

Okay! I’ll keep writing so stop trying to distract me or this’ll never get done!

;aldkjsf;j

;alksdjf;lkasdjf

You can do whatever you like the moment this is posted I promise.

Ahem.

Jiang Cheng hope you’re still reading. >:D

Where was I… Oh yeah!  Thanks Lan Zhan. 

So we had a buddy date all together! 

It wasn’t much but we all went over to Nie Huaisang’s house. Apparently DaGe was over at the de--- My beloved brother in law’s house on a date of their own so we had the place to ourselves. 

OMG They should get hitched and then we’ll be brothers for REAL. OMg!

So I wanna say that… well in the past few months Nie Huaisang and I have really patched things up. I’m really happy he’s a part of our lives and I do not revoke the previously instated “family” status.

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We. willtalkaboutthatlater 

Ahem

Okay. 

But anyway, Nie Huaisang and I have talked. A lot. About all the things I said and the things he did and the things I did. We’ve come to an understanding. And well…

He forgave me. 

I’m not sure I deserved it. I was really terrible to him. For a long time after the RE wore off. 

I’d talked in therapy about it. I’m slowly learning that I’m maybe not to blame for all that’s wrong in the world but once I started to stop blaming myself I still had this need to blame… someone. 

And I blamed the wrong person. 

I mean I’m not saying that what I said didn’t have any truth with it. And we talked about that too. I had some points. But he did NOT deserve me going off like that. Not even a little. 

But he started flicking my forehead every time I say sorry about it so I’m stopping

(SangSang did you take lessons from Wen Qing? Because fuck those snaps feel familiar) 

Oh dear goodness. I forgot how disjointed these posts always are. Still following along? Yes? Good!

Okay back to the story.

Meeting at Nie Huaisang’s place for super fun hangout bros night for bros. (except Lan Zhan and I aren’t bros.)

Yes yes you’re right Lan Zhan we didn’t make SangSang a third wheel. Mostly because it was his house and hanging with him was the point but also because very time we started “being gross” he started whining.

And then I’d kick him and tell him that he wanted us to get together so badly before and now he gets to deal with the consequences. 

And then we would be more gross just to spite him.

Okay maybe we third-wheeled him a little BUT IT WAS WITH PURPOSE. 

I can’t help it Lan Zhan! Every time you kiss me I forget what I’m doing!

………………………..

Wait…. What was I… LAN ZHAN YOU DID THAT ON PURPOSE!!!!

A;LDKJFA;DLSKF

…………….

I can feel you smirking but I’m not gonna look

Because if I look I’m gonna kiss you again and as I’ve said MORE THAN ONCE THIS NEEDS TO BE WRITTEN AND IT AIN’T GONNA WRITE ITSELF 

A;lkdsjfla;ksdjf;lsdakjfl;skdajfl;aj;lfkdjsa;lkfj THAT’S A;LKJA;FLAKDJF LAN ZHAN I TOLD YOU LATER

YOU HAVE TO BE GOOD OR I’M NOT GIVING YOU ANYTHING! I’LL GO STRAIGHT TO BED AND YOU’LL BE LEFT WANTING 

………….

I’LL GO BI BI BI TO BED BED BED AND YOU WON’T BE ALLOWED IN IN IN.

Fuck and I spent all that time thinking /I/ was the goblin in this relationship. 

DO NOT GET INTO A SEMANTICS BATTLE WITH ME IT WILL NEVER END

…………………………….

-ahem-

To which I maintain Nie Huaisang doesn’t count as people. 

We arrived at Nie Huaisang’s house at the appointed time on the appointed day. Many nights were left behind in anticipation of this grand reunion.

(I mean that in the best sense.)

Anyway I rang the doorbell because Lan Zhan’s arms were full of snacks and wine. And we sat there and waited. 

I think I thought it was gonna rain and was just thinking that we should have gotten an umbrella, though of course if there was any risk of rain my ever on top of his shit husband would have brought one so we were good, when the door opened to reveal Lord Goblin SangSang in all his lounge pants glory. 

I didn’t know that sweats came in designer. 

Nie Huaisang told me that they were a gift from Jin ZiXuan for a birthday or something and defensively states that they’re just “Super comfy okay???” but I know he likes the glam. 

SangSang you know you’re a dramatic bitch don’t deny it. 

Anyway. We were waved inside rather quickly because while the sweats were designer, they were still sweats and he would rather die than be caught dead by someone other than his “chosen few” in something like sweats. 

As I said

Dramatic bitch. 

We were ushered away to the other side of the manor where the home theater was. You remember the one? From Christmas? Where I almost avoided all the damn PROBLEMS by kissing Lan Zhan right then and there? 

Except

CHILDRENNNN who I love dearly interrupted us.

Oh.. and that was the night I kept having FEELINGS about Lan Zhan and kids and just… aldsf;sjlfkj

Lan Zhan we need to have that conversation again. 

A;dslkjfsal;dfj

Yes? Yes. Okay

BUT THAT’S NOT THIS STORY! Anyway, that home theater. 

Ah Memories. 

Ignorance is bliss and I want to maintain my innocence. 

Anyway. So like there’s lots of space in that room that isn’t just chairs and screen because it’s an entertaining space.

BUT so long as it’s been thoroughly disinfected it’s still a great place to hang! :D

Nie Huaisang had set up the place with nice lights and a table for snacks and all that good stuff. We deposited the snacks that Lan Zhan was holding and I promptly filled the now vacant space with the me. :D And then looked at the goodies.

So Nie Huaisang is either really thoughtful or a  little shitstain. Because apparently he had read about our New Years experiments with alcohol and had gotten a bunch of light alcohol and mixers and stuff so that Lan Zhan could drink with us!

BUT he also made a point of telling Lan Zhan that he doesn’t need to feel pressured to drink. They’re there so he CAN not so he has to. 

Lan Zhan looked really touched at that and I felt so warm.

I love my family. 

So we decided to pick out some snacks and drinks (starting with non-alcoholic first because we’re adults or some shit) and sat down. 

Now one would naturally think, home theater. Snacks. Comfy chairs. We’re watching a movie, right? 

WRONG

GIANT MARIO KART. 

Nie Huaisang just dumped controllers on our laps and told us to strap in. 

Have I ever mentioned

How

Fucking

Adorable

Lan

Zhan’s

Face

Is 

When

He’s

Confused????

BECAUSEHE’SSOFUCKINGADORABLE

Don’t you hide from me!!

Hold on I gotta kiss my husband a million times. One moment please.

Okay. That’s better. <3 

=w= ahhhh

Where was I…. 

YOU CAN’T DISTRACT ME BECAUSE I CAN READ AND I KNOW WHERE I WAS NOW BECAUSE I READ IT SO YOU CANNOT FIGHT THE FACT THAT YOU’RE FUCKING ADORABLE. 

I win. :D

So my adorable husband blinked his adorable eyes in an adorable way in adorable confusion at the… moderately-adorable-when-he-wants-to-be Nie Huaisang. 

Who just grinned at us and pressed a magic button on his magic remote to make the magic things happen. The lights dimmed enough that we could still see but the screen was brighter too…

Does that make sense? I don’t care.

The lights were half dimmed. And the screen lit up

And suddenly we were playing a game.  

This time at least you didn’t go around trying to obey the non-existent road laws. 

And okay. So Like I think we played that on new years too, right? Yeah.

You can’t stop at stoplights that aren’t there Lan Zhan. I don’t care if the intersection would be dangerous without it. 

Well how do I put this politely….

Y’all know how I always gush about how Lan Zhan is perfect and can do no wrong? And ask quite frequently “Is there nothing this man can’t do???”

So First I hold to my first statement. Lan Zhan is perfect and can do no wrong. 

That. Being. Said.

The man sucks at Mario Kart. 

Okay I said it. It’s out there. No take backs.

I’m sorry, Lan Zhan. I love you and you’re perfect but oh my god. 

Nie Huaisang ordered some like pizza and wings and shit and we decided to crack open the wine. 

But seriously it was so much fun. We played for.. Oh fuck it must have been hours.

Oh yeah! That’s why we didn’t at first. We were cooling it down right? Yeah because the stuff we brought was warm….

Wait no but Nie Huaisang’s wasn’t warm… WHATEVER we started drinking with the pizza.

Oh oh speaking of the pizza, Lan Zhan was that the first time you ate really shitty store bought pizza? Because you looked at it like it was the scum of the earth. 

You didn’t have to force yourself to eat it. D: Did you hate the whole of it? You didn’t like it even a little? D: 

D: D: D: D:

THE POINT WASN’T TO FORCE YOU TO EAT FOOD YOU HATED D; D; D; D; 

OTL

Okay you didn’t HATE it but that doesn’t mean you liked it. D: You really don’t have to push yourself. I mean we could have ordered something else for you or gotten more snacks or something.

…. Myuh okay fine. D: But next time if you don’t wanna eat something don’t, okay? It’s not wasteful. Leftovers are allowed. 

Okay well we can talk about that later more if we have to 

Pizza reheates just fine.

For now 

ON WITH THE STORYYYYYYYYYYYYYYAKSDJF;ASLDJFK;SAKJFD;ALKJD F;KJDON’T POKE ME THERERERERERE

oKAY

Ahem. 

So long story short we started drinking and eating shitty food while playing Mario Kart. And so okay.

There’s a point to this. 

So Lan Zhan as I stated before is… not the greatest at the game. :D

BUT turns out neither are SangSang and I. 

Especially after knocking back a few. 

So when Lan Zhan gets drunk, not only is he the cutest thing in the world, but he starts following imaginary traffic laws as I said before. 

Now the thing IS 

That when SangSang and I have had a few too many

We are much more likely to go the… entirely wrong way on the track. 

And fall off. 

And I think at one point we just kept playing bumper cars.

My point is, that Lan Zhan is following these traffic laws right? Like the Toad patrol is gonna like arrest him or something if he doesn’t.  But this works to his advantage once we start getting stupid because he’s careful! So he doesn’t fall off! So he just chugs along. 

And at one point finally he managed to come in 2nd by beating Huaisang. 

So Nie Huaisang starts throwing a tantrum to the point that I almost missed it. 

But I didn’t.

I heard you Lan Zhan.

With this self-satisfied expression on his smug, adorable face. Flushed from the liquor and high off a fresh mostly win. 

“Fuck yeah.”

Oh my god. It was so quiet! But 

Lan Zhan

That was the funniest shit. 

Seriously he just said it under his breath. So smug and pleased to hell with himself 

“Fuck yeah.” 

Oh I coulda kissed him.

…. Well I did

A lot actually

We made a bit of a mess because I knocked something over to do it. 

But like how could I resist? Lan Zhan says something like that and he’s so precious and cute and “fuck yeah” how could I not throw myself at him?

I think Nie Huaisang had to actually pry me off of him before things got a bit more… ‘entertaining’ in the entertainment room. 

Sorrrryyyyyyyyy

:D :D :D

Ahem

Lan Zhan we should get our own theater room. ;w; 

Anyway

So We were punished by having to sit on either side of Nie Huaisang for a while until we could learn to ‘keep our hands to ourselves’. 

In the end we calmed down enough to cuddle without a chaperone.

WE’RE MARRIED YOU CAN’T KEEP US APART

;alskdjf

Anwyay

We played a bit more and drank a bit more and then started to watch a movie. 

Nie Huaisang brought in some pillows and blankets because the chairs like apparently convert into a futon? Like they can be chairs, a couch, a futon. Like ?????

It was nice though. 

It was really nice though because we all ended up falling asleep together in a cuddle pile. It was so comfy! It reminded me a bit of living with the Wens. We would end up cuddled a lot the whole family. Partially because there wasn’t much room and sometimes because the furnace would go out so we needed to be warm.

And so was this. Nie Huaisang and I both ended up snuggled to Lan Zhan. I was going to ask him if he was okay with it - I know he’s picky about being touched- but I could see when I looked how happy he was. He must have felt as cozy as me.

I noticed lately that he’s been more… receptive to touch. Especially with Lan Xichen. 

Lan Zhan, I’m glad you’re opening up more. I don’t want you to push yourself if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s okay to prefer not to touch others. But if it’s something you want I’ll support you. <3

I remember being very confused when I woke up but I think it’s because my favorite body pillow got replaced by Nie Huaisang who is all elbows. 

Oof.

Also, SangSang, no offense but omg you are a hot mess in the morning. How long does it take you to make yourself presentable every day? I mean respect. Y’all know I just accept the goblin look and hope for the best but you go from that to that every DAY? Fuck. 

Now I didn’t have to look around long to find my husband. 

Mmmmm……. 

Have I ever told you how fucking amazing he is?

Oh oh likely story mister. You accidentally timed THAT pose for when I was looking? Uh-huh. Sure. You’ve got 45 different pose options in your regular routine and you just HAPPEN to choose that one RIGHT then huh?

Yeah you know the one Lan Zhan. Did you do that on purpose because you noticed me waking up?

Uh-huh that’s what I thought.

I’m on to you mister.

;alksjdf;alsdkjfas;jf

You can’t distract me with more kisses!!!

Noooooo

I’m almost done!

At least let me finish the Huaisang story!!

Asdkfj;asdjf;kalsjf

Oh. MY. GOD!!!! LAN ZHAAAAAAAAN

Okay I”m wrapping this up because my husband is about to---

A;kdfj;asdjf

Okay

So anyway we woke up and had breakfast and went home and then it was my turn to be pressed against a wall and it was all a very nice time with Nie Huaisang and then later with just the two of us because Nie Huaisang had NO PART in that wall adventure after we got home and honestly Lan Zhan I can see why you like it so much when I do that because mmmmph 

Okay thanks for tuning in I’m gonna go fuck my husband now bye.

#(modern au! season 2 - the real husbands of gusu)

[calypsoff]

Fifty.

All Robyn does is have her friends here, so I came into the bedroom to get some peace because first Mel comes, Tina I understand because that is her assistant and she needs to be around but then Jen comes, and then Yusuf is here, the other Mel guy and now she’s telling me Noella is coming for what and mind you these niggas are staying in this apartment which has three bedrooms, it’s just too much. Why do these people need to be here, for what. They aren’t being productive, they are here just to have fun and talk shit, like I can’t even sit in peace without someone saying something trying to be funny, I am trying so hard not to be miserable, I am really trying but when Robyn said Noella is coming too that annoyed me, where are these people staying. Why are we not getting any privacy, why does these people need to be here, and I am being very miserable but it’s just annoying, we just got married why “fuck” I said to myself, I know what Robyn will be like she will say I am being negative, and they are here for something, I am sorry, but I shouldn’t be climbing over people that are here being bums, there are doing nothing productive. I need to just shake it off, I have too. Unlocking my phone and seeing the home I want to get for my family, I always wanted to get a home for them, and this is the moment I can, I am not doing anything until I can do this for my family, the home they live in is not it, it’s ok me living here when they live in that small ass home in VA, I will be moving them and it’s a nice place in VA, they will love it. When the money hits the account I will be getting this for them, it’s six bedrooms too, if I live good so will my family. They can also move away from my nosey ass family members; they can fuck off.

Walking out of the bedroom, I ended up having a nap because I just didn’t want to sit with her friends, I just really can’t be bothered. My therapist is on holiday, who told that man he could go away on holiday, what if I really needed him but it’s all good, I can last “I thought you left the house Chris” Yusuf said, shaking my head walking around the couch, this apartment is small as hell already but who am I “this nigga just sleeps and comes out of the bedroom, and then goes back into the bedroom” opening the fridge door “and all y’all do is the eat the damn food in the place” closing the fridge door “what am I going to eat?” staring at Robyn “order something in” she half laughed because her little crew is laughing, I don’t know what is happening “I want you to cook me something” I am being dead ass too, I am being awkward of course but I am being dead ass “you just said there is no food in the house, what do you want me to make? Pour you the cereal” this is why I go gym; this shit I can’t deal with “what is the point in getting married huh” I was going to hit the cup off the counter, but I didn’t “I am going gym” I need too, I want some peace and I can’t get it here. I know Robyn is used to having her friends around but still, this is stupid “I will be back” hearing Robyn say, not like I want to speak to her so she can leave me alone. Closing the bedroom door, I was going to slam it close but I didn’t, I am learning.

Taking my top off and throwing it to the corner of the bedroom, I just find it annoying that they are here. I need some space right now and I ain’t getting it, opening the closet “what is wrong with you now?” Robyn said, I knew she would come “nothing, I am going to gym. I will leave you to your friends” grabbing the tee from the side “you also threw your top when I told you I hate when you throw your clothes on the floor, I did tell you that but yet you did it, what is wrong with you Chris” putting my tee on “well it’s on the floor” closing the closet doors “I am not going to let you leave until you talk to me Chris, this is ridiculous, why the hell are you being this way? You’re being so grumpy for what? I am trying with you” placing my hands on my side staring at her “why is your friends here? You said to me yeah that I should go to see a therapist yeah and then you got all your friends here making noise, we are married. I am here with you; I have nobody, and you have all your people here. For the past two days, I have had nowhere to sit, no space or anything. You tell me why they are here?” I didn’t raise my voice, I am trying to be calm “because after we check the homes we are leaving to London, so they stay here, this is what they always do, they like you Chris. They do get you involved do they not?” I sighed out, of course she was going to say this.

I can’t really be bothered with this conversation anymore but I need too because it’s just going to build up “I just feel annoyed ok, there is not enough space for your friends, I don’t want to say no because then I look selfish but I am sick of suffering and having to suffer just so your friends can have a laugh, and also I found a home for my family to live in that I am going to buy” Robyn tilted her head “are you telling me or asking me? I think you’re telling me aren’t you?” she frowned “asking” I mumbled “it’s not what you said it’s how you said it Chris, right. I will sort it out and they will be out, but I need you to not have a attitude with me about it because you don’t want to mention something you could have said to me ages ago, you know this. Why are you trying to create an argument? Tell me? What is the reason. So let’s rewind this Chris, you should have told me this from the jump. Right when I said they are coming to stay over, you should have said Robyn I accept Mel but the rest no, the place is small and right now I need my space. The issue with you is that you don’t speak, you don’t tell me until you want to burst about it. I get it and I will sort that out, see how easy that is but now you are making decisions about a whole house you want to buy for your family is wrong, we are married Chris. It’s a joint account, we do shit together. Things like that I expect you to tell me before you jump, we speak on things not do things and then you tell me what you are going to do. I have always said to you that your mouth will get you in trouble, it’s always so loose and for what? We could have spoken on it, it’s that’s easy Chris. I know how much you want to buy a home for your family, and you think I’m going to say no? Is that what it is? I am happy you want to do that for your family, it’s the sweetest but it’s the way you say it to me. You’re married Chris, we do shit together, and I want you to speak to me. I know you’re feeling a type of way about things, but you need to speak to me, my friends are joking with you. I get it the apartment is small, and don’t worry I will sort it” Robyn walked off in a huff, she is angry with me.

I dislike Robyn being mad with me, so I won’t be going anywhere that is for sure, now I need to face the music and go outside and face her friends for my own stupidity. Making my way out of the bedroom, she is right because I do adore her friends. They are good people but it’s just I need the space; I think it was just so quick that it all happened. I did wait for like a good ten minutes before I left the bedroom, Robyn is laughing loud as hell, I don’t know why “erm, Robyn. Can I speak to you?” I asked, Robyn knew. The look on her face showed me she knew I was coming “yep” Yusuf side eyed me “you in the bad books again Christopher” shaking my head smiling, turning away from them to walk back into the bedroom. Robyn could have actually told me to fuck off, my mouth is stupid, and I can never help myself with that. Rubbing the back of my head turning to Robyn “I am sorry, I was very irritated, I tried to deal with it without having to throw your friends out, I really wanted to just deal with it but I can’t, I am sorry. And the way I spoke to you, it’s wrong, it’s your money as much it is mine and just doing that is no good” Robyn closed the door “I am not saying no, I am saying you have to speak to me. If I checked and that was missing and you just did it behind my back, how wrong is that, it’s unfair. If we start doing that then our marriage is not going to work, we are married now Chris, it works both ways” I nodded my head “I am sorry” I apologised again “and they know, I said it’s a bit too much. I am married now and when I get the home, it will be better. Ok?” nodding my head walking over to Robyn, she hugged me straight away “I really wish you just speak to me on things Chris” I am dumb with this shit.

We are finally going to see two houses Matt has found, I am so excited, but I am annoyed with Chris. I mean I am ok with him but the way he speaks can be so mean, he knows how to be an asshole sometimes and that never goes away from him, no therapy will help that “you did tell him no downstairs bedroom yeah?” Chris asked “you know I did, you were there with me when I said. Show me, the home you have seen for your family, it is in VA?” I asked, I thought I need to ask what he has seen. I am super proud of him that this is the first thing he wants to do for his family but just the way he said it, like if I just let it slide he will continue to do it “yeah, I will show you” he got super excited about it too, I am happy for him because it’s a big milestone in your life to do that for your family “how much is it? The home in that area isn’t that expensive is it really? I mean the amount we will pay in Cali will be crazy high” I said “it will be, but this home is about eight hundred thousand, but just look at it, for that price, six bedrooms” grabbing his phone from him “oh it’s already nice, this look like some presidential type thing, this is nice Chris” sliding across the pictures “oh yes, look at that entrance, wow. The chandelier too. This is beautiful, I like the way you walk in and the stairs are just there, it’s beautiful. Also I think it’s best for your parents to be somewhere better, with everything that will probably happen, they may get harassed because of you” passing his phone back “yeah, so is it ok if I do go ahead with it? Will you be here when we do it? Please” nodding my head “for you I will, I may have to fly back. I will be in London, but I will ok?” Chris smiled “thank you, so how long you planning to be in London for? It seems like a while, I am worried now” I cringed a little “well uhm, Chris it’s going to be a lot of meetings and stuff, maybe a month? I am saying that but could be, but this will give you chance to sort yourself out with things, meaning your business ok?” Chris nodded his head; I want him to sort himself out.

Chris saw it from his very own eyes that we entered a private estate, he saw the security guards. I wanted him to see that “these homes look crazy around here” seeing Matt stood outside his Rolls Royce, he must have been waiting for a while here. Rich got out of the car “is this the home here?” Chris pointed “I think so” Rich opened my car, sliding out of the car “Rihanna! My love, we meet again” he got his arms out to me “yes we do, we meet too many times now, I shouldn’t even use you after the last one” I pointed at him but then hugged him “and I feel awful that happened, I did all the leg work to sell that, and I promise to make this extra special” moving back from the hug “and this is your husband, hi Chris” Matt held his hand out to Chris “hi, nice to meet you” they shook hands “so it’s weird but it seems like everyone is out to look for homes, I have struggled. I won’t lie to you both, I have been struggling to get something perfect for you both as a family, but then this came up here and another in Beverly Hills again, both gated” he has bad news, I have a feeling “the thing we have with this, it’s eight bedrooms but has 2 acres of ground itself surrounding the home so you will get plenty of privacy” eight bedrooms, Chris will dislike that alone.

Side eyeing Matt “you didn’t need to make us walk up the drive” it’s really big “imagine the cars Chris. You will have so much space huh?” looking up at him, I am trying to sell it to him because for the privacy alone this is nice “well I wanted you to get a feel for how much space there is here, you could even build? I mean you wouldn’t need too but come in” it has a beautiful set of double doors here, I like it. Letting Chris’ hand go as I stepped into the house “as you enter, it’s all marble and it leads straight into the hallway and into the first living room” looking down the hallway, it’s nice already “greenery, you have plenty of it. Pool/spa, entertainment system which has a bowling alley, snooker, bar. Fountain which you walked by, sauna, gym, wine cellar. Also a guest house, I know Robyn has a lot of friends she likes to have over, that alone has three bedrooms. Come in, explore” I know Chris, he isn’t going to like it because it’s too big, but he will have space but also I don’t want to move again but I will listen to him if he dislikes it, I have too.

The only thing he got happy about was the basketball court outside, he looked so giddy about it. What is he like, only Chris would be happy about this “so, tell me” Chris chewed on his bottom lip with his hands stuffed in his pockets “it’s too big, even with your family and friends being here there is too much space. And when we’re alone it’s just too much, pointless in a way. I am not like that at all, just not me” Chris shook his head “the home is nice, really is but for us no. I don’t feel like it’s homie either, it’s like when you’re young and dumb and you buy it for your friends to just chill in. I would be uncomfortable to be alone” tilting my head to the side “Chris you know I will be away for a while; you will be alone. I think you should invite your friends here or you go Houston. I don’t know or think you are ready to be alone in any home we get Chris” I don’t think he is “I ain’t going to be a little bitch about things, but I don’t like this house, so it is what it is” he shrugged “I am not judging you Chris, I am just thinking of you so please don’t take it to heart” he is getting so uptight now “well I can handle myself” nodding my head “yeah you can” let him get on with it, I can’t be bothered to even argue with him about it.

This is the second home on the other side of Beverly Hills which is gated “least this doesn’t have a huge drive” the gate opened and the SUV drove in “this looks more suitable” some positivity, Rich opened the door for me “good to hear for once” getting out of the car “now this is six bedrooms both of you, close enough to five!” Matt said, walking around the SUV “well Chris said it was suitable actually” Matt clasped his hands together “please, before I take you both anywhere you need to see the back yard of this house” Matt is too excited, he is really making us walk through the house and not see it through “just come” Chris held my hand, the double doors here are again gorgeous “but I want to see the home Matt” he jogged out the double doors and to the back yard “this is a feature Rihanna and Chris, just look!” he spat, making out way out to the back yard “impressive 2-story wall of glass and serpentine staircase going up, just look how beautiful. And at night it lights the yard, the chandelier alone costs a lot” my eyes widened “this looks amazing, you’re right. Chris” looking up at him “I have a good feeling about this home, it’s just not doing the most but yet it is, you know what I mean?” nodding my head “so throughout the home it has dark custom wood floors throughout which gives depth to every room against the light white walls and high ceilings. If you noticed?” Matt said “I did, I liked it” Chris actually likes something “formal dining room complete with dramatic wall-of-wine, private office, freshly remodelled chef's kitchen completes with a glass framed breakfast nook looking out upon the outdoor grounds. A master suite with newly renovated bathroom, dry sauna, large his/hers walk in closets I know Robyn will love that. Basement level with 2 bedrooms, movie theatre, and temperature controlled wine room. Privatized outdoor oasis encompassed by pool, jacuzzi, outdoor dining/entertaining space, pizza oven, full bar, outdoor bathroom, and putting green” he breathed out “I think I do like the sound of it already, it’s just something I know I will be comfortable to stay here. Just the way we came in, everything. Yeah, this is beautiful. How much?” we haven’t even looked and he’s asking that “well it’s right now the price is thirteen million, I have knocked off nine hundred thousand because of what happened prior but thirteen million to you” Chris’ eyes widened “damn, that is expensive” I chuckled, my husband.

#chrianna ff #chrianna #chrianna fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #chriannaff

[markonasurface]

20/50 - “It’s 8:30, I have a hangover and you’re annoying me.”

Fandom: All for the Game/The Foxhole Court Characters/pairings: Jean, Jeremy/jerejean Summary: Jean and Jeremy tag along on the Foxes’ spring break trip. A/N: This has taken me too long to finish. I think I started it two years ago. I almost forgot to use the quote prompt.

Warnings: implied past abuse

“Kevin invited you to the Foxes’ spring break trip?” Jean asked, eyebrows high.

Jeremy barely glanced up from the text he was studying. “Mm.”

“Are you going?” Jean pressed.

“Are you?” Jeremy snapped.

Jean flinched and Jeremy’s mouth dropped open. “I’m sorry.” He finally put his studying materials down and turned to face Jean. “I didn’t mean to snap. I just - last semester, you know?”

“Yes,” Jean said, even though he didn’t. He felt the heat in his cheeks and internally cursed himself for not being able to control his reactions. Riko used to love to make him flinch. It was at one point worth the beatings for not giving him the satisfactory.

“So, are you going?” Jeremy asked, back to his normal self if a bit exhausted.

He bit the inside of his cheek and stayed completely still. It was hard being around Kevin but it might be nice. Kevin did whatever Riko told him to do but Kevin wasn’t cruel. He had learned from his therapist that he didn’t miss Evermore; he missed the familiarity of it. Kevin could give him a bit of what he thought to be normalcy.

“Jean?” Jeremy said quietly, patiently.

Jean looked up to meet his eyes. “I - yes.”

“You’ll have to give Kevin my regards,” Jeremy said and turned back to his text.

“You aren’t going?” Jean didn’t know if he was relieved.

“I should really study,” Jeremy sighed.

Their bedroom door opened and Jean jumped.

“Y’all left your door unlocked.” Laila fell onto Jeremy’s bed. “And you’re going to spend your last spring break studying? Come on, Jer.”

“Fuck off, Laila,” he said.

She nudged his chair with her foot. “I bet those Foxes get fucking crazy. I wish I’d been invited.”

“Take my invitation.”

Laila took a loud breath. “Mama Alvarez would have a cow if we bailed on her family trip.”

“If you don’t come they’ll probably stick me in a room with Hemmick,” Jean said.

“You could use the brea-eak,” she sang. “Also, see if they’ve picked up any new moves for finals.”

“Laila.”

She held up her hands in a placating gesture. “I’m kidding. Go. Have fun. Or you’ll burn yourself out and have to come back in the fall.”

Day 1

“An island? Seriously?” Thea stood with her arms crossed over her chest.

Kevin shrugged.

“I thought we were just flying somewhere tropical,” Jeremy added.

“Why are you all looking at me?” Allison demanded. “Neil’s the one who paid for this trip.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Neil said. “I recently came into some money.”

Jeremy sighed. “Right. N.B.D. I just rented an island.”

“Follow me.” A man in khakis and a polo shirt motioned for them. He had introduced himself as Frank as they boarded the small plane that brought them to their rented island.

It was a short walk through some trees and a large house came into view. There were gasps and one of the freshmen from the team said, “No fucking way.”

“Dude, how much did this cost?” Matt asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Neil said, leading the way through the gate.

They walked past the pool and its fountains, up some stairs and through double doors. As they all stood in the foyer,  Frank smiled and said, “Right. Everything’s stocked. I’ll be back at the end of the week. If you need anything, call the number on the refrigerator.”

Neil handed the man a cash tip and thanked him.

Allison looked around at everyone. “There are ten rooms. Neil gets first pick, losers.”

“You mean Andrew,” Jack mocked.

It was quiet for a moment then at once everyone raced to find a room. Jean looked at Jeremy and said, “They’re fucking crazy.”

Jeremy laughed as they heard Dan yell, “I’m your damn captain!”

They followed the shouting and as they turned a corner Jeremy ran into Renee. They both apologized, looking like literal sunshine and Jean bit his lip.

“They’re the guests.” Allison was staring down one of her teammates. “They get the room next to ours.”

Jeremy realized she was talking about them and opened his mouth. Renee shook her head, a warning in her eyes. Someone stomped by and Allison grinned.

“Welcome to the third nicest - who am I kidding? - the fourth nicest room on this island!” She gestured grandly. “And that’s saying something.”

Nicky popped his head in. “Fifth nicest. Andrew and Neil gave up the first nicest so they have the second nicest, Dan and Matt have the third nicest, and you have the fourth nicest.”

Before Allison could demand to know who got the glass room on top if it wasn’t Dan and Matt, Nicky ran off.

Jeremy looked as if he suddenly remembered something. “Did you two wanna share? I can room with Nicky or whoever.”

Allison cackled. She left the room.

“We’re not -” Jean started.

“We were never dating,” Renee said.

Jeremy’s eyes were wide. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed and uh, forget I said anything.”

Renee smiled kindly and backed out of the room. Jeremy looked at Jean who was staring at the one bed in the middle of the room.

“I can still room with Nicky if you’re not comfortable sharing,” he said.

Jean swallowed. “It’s fine.” He managed a small smile and said, “We share every other day of the year.”

After they unpacked, everyone seemed to congregate by the pool. Nicky and Andrew were situated behind the bar and Neil was perched on top, but everyone else was already swimming.

Jean glanced around nervously. Since joining the Trojans, he’d become a lot more self-conscious about the state of his body.

“You can leave your shirt on.” The voice startled him and he looked up at Neil, then glanced to see if Jeremy had heard as well. Then he realized Neil was speaking in his native tongue. “But nobody cares.”

Andrew spoke. “Ignore the freshmen. They’re idiots.”

“Where’s Kevin?” Jeremy asked, coming to sit at the bar.

“Fucking Thea,” a girl said, joining them. “I saw her take his shirt off but then they moved away from the glass.”

Aaron grabbed a tray of drinks from Nicky and sneered, “Do you have to be such a perve, Sheena?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, snagging a drink and flicking her wet hair at him.

“Like, Andrew said,” Nicky stated. “The freshmen are idiots.”

He mimicked Sheena’s face, nose scrunched and eyes narrowed, then asked, “What can I make for you?”

“Something that’ll make me forget I have my last midterm when we get back,” Jeremy grimaced. “Who gives a midterm after spring break?”

“I got just the drink for you.”

The sound of the blender going again cut off conversation. Sheena left to play chicken with her friends and Renee called Jean over.

“Don’t break anything!” Dan called from where she was laying out with Allison and Renee as Jean joined them.

“Here you go.” Nicky handed him a glass.

Jeremy held the drink up and studied it. “Are those silver stars?”

“Edible silver stars.”

Aaron came back with a tray in one hand and a girl’s hand in the other and said, “Nicky has to make everything gay.”

The girl hit his arm lightly with the back of her hand. She looked at Jeremy and held out a hand. “Katelyn.”

“Jeremy,” Jeremy said and shook.

“I made you both the same,” Nicky said, handing two more glasses over the bar.

“On three?” Katelyn suggested. “One. Two. Three.”

Everyone who had a drink took a large sip and more than one of them sputtered. “What the fuck is this?” Aaron gasped. “Did you just add ice and stars?”

Nicky shrugged. “Make your own damn drinks if you don’t like it.” He hopped over the bar and ran for the pool.

“You’re drinking this?” Aaron asked in disbelief and Jeremy turned to see Neil gulping it down.

After one large sip, Jeremy was already starting to feel warm. He took another sip, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. When he opened them he saw Renee running her hand down Jean’s bare back. How many times had Jeremy wanted to do the same?

He shook his head. He was such a lightweight. He’d never been one to party hard but he knew how to hold his liquor. The last year he’d spent more time studying and less and less time drinking and his tolerance was down. Clearly.

Day 2

By the second night, Jeremy was starting to realize the Foxes weren’t so different from any other college sports team if you took away the tragic backstories. Yeah, Jeremy would stick out if they all sat around and compared histories but - surprise, surprise - there wasn’t much talk about that.

Allison banned any talk of Exy and if she ever saw Neil and Kevin together she’d cock a brow and put her hands on her hips. Kevin would flip her off and she’d leave with a, “Fuck you. There are rules for a reason.”

It was making him miss his own team - the way they all fit together even when they shouldn’t.

Jean was there, but if anything he was part of the Kevin/Thea/Jean Former Ravens group or the Kevin-Neil-Jean-I-Was-Abused-By-Riko-Moriyama-and-Marked-For-His-Perfect-Court group.

He was different from a year ago when he’d first joined the Trojans but he still had his rough edges and hangups. And Jeremy saw it all.

Whether someone tapped his arm lightly without warning, or when he was flinching awake from a nightmare, Jeremy was there, trying to think of a way to calm Jean down without overstepping.

Jeremy had promised Laila he’d enjoy his spring break and be involved in all the fun things the Foxes did. Jeremy didn’t break promises. That’s why it was two in the morning and he was just starting to work on a study guide problem he’d left at five AM yesterday morning.

He groaned. Shots before homework wasn’t working for him.

“Jer,” Jean said, voice hoarse. “Come to bed.”

In his sluggish alcohol influenced state of mind, he almost thought Jean was asking him to come to his bed. His face flushed as he thought, What if Jean could read my mind and saw that?

He cleared his throat. “Soon. I’ll go to bed soon. I just need to finish at least three problems first.” Who was he kidding? He’d be lucky if he finished one.

“Okay,” Jean breathed, turning over and promptly falling back to sleep.

That was something that had surprised Jeremy. The way Jean could just sleep. He had expected his distrust to keep him awake at night. He guessed when you were tortured and worked to the bone, you had to take the sleep where you could get it.

Jean looked so cozy and peaceful, Jeremy wanted to be cozy and peaceful. He made the mistake of putting his head down on the desk.

He bolted awake when tentative fingers touched his arm.

Day 3

Jean flinched and Jeremy took a deep breath. “Sorry, sorry.”

“The others are going for a hike,” Jean said quietly though he offered a smile. “Apparently there’s a waterfall. Do you want to come?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeremy responded, yawning and stretching. When he looked back at Jean, Jean quickly averted his eyes.

“They’re meeting by the pool.”

Jean hurried out, closing the door behind him.

Jeremy stretched as he stood. There was a crick in his neck that was making him regret last night’s choices.

He picked up a shirt off the floor and sniffed it. What did it matter? They were gonna get sweaty on their hike. He tried to shove away the thought of what would Jean think and changed into the shirt.

“Jer-bear!” Nicky greeted him as he stepped outside.

He squinted at the sun. It was only eight in the morning but it was already too hot. Jeremy couldn’t wait to get to the waterfall.

As they approached the start of the trail, two figures raced down the hill toward them. Thea pushed Kevin and Kevin shouted, “Hey!”

The two of them passed the sign indicating which way to go around roughly the same time and immediately Jean said, “Thea.”

“No one asked,” Kevin said, panting, but he didn’t look upset. “Besides, she cheated.”

“Prove it,” Thea said, hands behind her head as she gulped air. 

“Rematch.”

Nicky said, “Neil would beat you both.”

“With those little legs?” Thea looked skeptical.

“Show ‘em, Neil.”

Neil shook his head. “I don’t feel like it.” He paused and looked at Andrew. “I don’t run anymore.”

The way he said it gave the words weight and Jeremy felt like he was missing something. Neil and Andrew’s teammates groaned and Andrew looked unimpressed.

“That was really sweet, Neil,” Matt said.

Neil winked at Matt and Andrew muttered something that had him grinning widely.

“If we’re done with the cheesefest ...” Allison stomped past everyone.

The waterfall was breathtaking. Jeremy couldn’t believe something could be so untouched by man.

“What took you guys so long?” Thea called as she dunked Neil under the water.

Despite what he’d said about not running anymore, Neil couldn’t resist Thea’s challenge and they’d run ahead of the group with Kevin.

As some of the others dived in, Jeremy’s eyes searched for Jean. He was leaning down so Renee could rub some sunscreen on his face. Jeremy tried to stuff down the jealousy bubbling in his chest.

This wasn’t him. He didn’t get jealous. Certainly not of one the nicest humans to ever exist touching his teammate who clearly didn’t mind. He was about to turn away when Jean pulled his shirt over his head.

And how could he have such negative feelings when Jean was so obviously enjoying his spring break? After the first day, Jean didn’t even hesitate in stripping down and letting the others see him shirtless. As his roommate, of course Jeremy had seen him without a shirt, but it had been months before his first reaction wasn’t to cover up his scars. In the locker rooms, he always changed as quickly as possible and usually with his locker open.

Here, with people who had trauma, too, and who didn’t bat an eye when Jean took his shirt off, he was able to stop thinking about it. It made Jeremy sad that he wasn’t able to give Jean that around their team.

Jean turned around and Jeremy tried to pretend he hadn’t been staring. When he stood in front of him, he asked, “You okay, Jer?”

Jeremy swallowed once. He felt his cheeks get hot but hoped his sunburn hid his blush. “Yeah, just, um, enjoying the view.” He inwardly groaned. Jean had seen him staring at him. He scratched his cheek.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Jean said. He clearly meant the trees and the water. Jeremy was both relieved and disappointed. “See you down there?”

“Yeah.”

Day 4

Jeremy put on his noise canceling headphones and opened his textbook. He had to get this reading done. He wouldn’t allow any more distractions until he finished.

Not even a sleepy looking Jean poking his head into their shared room.

He removed his headphones and gave him a questioning look.

“We’re putting on a movie. Wanna join?”

Jeremy sighed. “Can’t. I should have finished this chapter two days ago.” Jean bit his lip, then he closed the door. “What are you -?” He sat on the bed.

“I don’t really like movies that much.”

It was a lie. Jeremy knew it was a lie, but he wasn’t going to argue. He remembered the look of confusion on his face the first time he heard Jeremy ask what movie the rest of the team would like to watch. He gave Jean a small smile before putting his headphones back on.

An hour later, Jeremy was lying beside Jean, who was dozing, his head on an open book. His head lolled to the side and pressed into Jeremy’s arm.

Jeremy froze and tried to keep his breathing even.

His eyes followed the line of Jean’s jaw. He liked this side of Jean’s face best. It wasn’t tattooed and it had less scars. He still liked the other side of Jean’s face - he liked his whole face - it was just easier to not think about the circumstances that brought him to his team when he could only see the right half of Jean’s face.

Day 6

“No studying tonight!” Allison yelled.

“But -”

“Jean told us you study every night after we go to bed,” she said. “It’s your last night. Enjoy it!”

Jeremy shot a look over to Jean at the bar who - was smiling? He shrugged at Jeremy before tipping back a shot.

Allison had made a list and passed it around to anyone who wasn’t a freshman. Any time one of the freshmen said or did something on her list, the others had to do a shot.

From the looks of things, Nicky, Dan, and Matt had gotten an early start on the game. Allison whispered, “Don’t worry if you can’t remember who’s who. Just drink when the rest of us do.”

Jeremy looked around at the team, then into the pool with its night lights on and glowing balls floating on the surface.

Renee came over and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure no one drowns.”

When one of the freshmen girls made a pervy remark about Kevin, Nicky handed out shots. When one of the boys copped a feel off the girl and she pretended to be offended, he handed out two shots to every person. When a couple of the freshmen started making out, he got three shots - one for the act and two for the couple.

Things and time started to blur and Jeremy had no idea how much time had passed. They’d all eventually moved into the large house to get warm. Kevin and Thea had disappeared a while ago as had Aaron, Katelyn, and a few of the freshmen. Now Neil and Andrew were heading upstairs.

The music was loud, the lights looked brighter, and Jean was laughing. It almost made Jeremy smile, but then he realized he was laughing at something Renee had said. He wrapped an arm around her and leaned down so she could whisper something in his ear.

Jeremy left.

It was too difficult to watch and he didn’t want to say or do anything to embarrass himself. Allison grabbed his arm in the hallway and said, “You better not be going off to study!”

“No!” he shouted back. “I just need to lie down for a bit.”

Once he made it to his room and shut the door, it seemed uncomfortably quiet. He flopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

Jeremy was generally a positive person, but as he lay there, thoughts of Jean and Renee swirled around his mind. They said they weren’t dating. They said they’d never dated, but the whole week it was almost like they were a couple. They went everywhere together and partnered for every game.

He fell asleep, his mind seeped in jealousy and booze.

He woke up when Jean stumbled into the room, holding something in his hand. He vaguely registered music still pounding in the hallway.

“Hey, sorry,” Jean tried to whisper. “Everyone is asleep.”

“Okay?” Jeremy said.

“Renee made cookies.” He offered out his hand.

Jeremy might have sneered. “Of course she did. She’s amazing. She’s an amazing person. She’s an amazing goalie. I bet she’s an amazing girlfriend.” He was still drunk. It probably hadn’t been that long since he fell asleep.

Jean looked confused and timid. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Jeremy muttered, suddenly aware of how he must’ve come across.

“Are you jealous of Renee?” he asked, lips quirking.

Jeremy sighed and fell back on his pillows. “What? No ...” He looked over at Jean. “Okay, fine.”

Jean stepped closer and sat on the edge of the bed, looking over his shoulder at Jeremy. “Why?”

“Nothing,” he murmured, cheeks feeling hot.

“I’ve not been a good friend,” Jean said. “You’re just so friendly and easy going that I didn’t think you wanted me hanging around the whole week. And I figured Kevin would be taking up at least half your time.”

“That’s not - I mean -” Jeremy was at a loss for words.

“Then what is it?”

He threw an arm over his face, struggling to get a word out. 

“You guys are so close,” he finally said. “I guess I just want to be - close with you.”

“We’re roommates,” Jean said. “We are close. There’s no one I trust more.”

Jeremy sat up. “No, I’m gay.”

He shrugged. “Okay ... I figured -”

“I have these ... feelings ... for you ...” He knew his expression was pained and sad but he couldn’t help it. He had probably just ruined things between them.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” Jean asked as Jeremy’s head lowered and he shrugged. “I think I have ... feelings for you, too.”

Jeremy’s mouth fell open. “Really?”

Jean shrugged again, feeling self-conscious. “Yes. It’s why I’ve been hanging out with Renee so much this week - to get her advice about you.”

“I really want to kiss you,” he said in a rush. “I mean, if that’s okay.”

Jean held his breath, then nodded. Jeremy moved closer. Jean blurted, “I just - um, I need to set clear boundaries and I need you to respect them.”

“Of course,” Jeremy breathed. He watched as he bit his lip, looking like there was more he wanted to say. “Hey, it’s okay. You can set all the boundaries you need.”

Jean took a shaky breath. “I need you to take things slow,” he said, voice quiet. “I need you to be patient and not get mad if I can’t do - if I can’t -”

“Hey, Jean, you don’t need to do anything, alright?” Jeremy said. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” He reached out to take Jean’s hand but Jean flinched.

“I’m sorry, I -”

Jeremy held up his hand this time and slowly moved to grab Jean’s hand so he had time to move away if he wanted to.

“I’ve never - I don’t mean to flinch. It’s not you.” He lay down next to Jeremy and stared at the ceiling. Their arms were pressed together from their shoulders to their fingertips and after a minute, it started to feel comfortable. “I’ve talked about you in therapy because I wasn’t sure about what my feelings meant.”

He took long pauses between sentences but Jeremy didn’t dare to interject.

“Nothing that ever happened in my life ever was consensual.” Hard swallow. “Until you and the Trojans. I don’t know if I’m gay, honestly. I’m still figuring things out. Feeling anything confuses me. You’re the only person who offers something to me and lets me choose to accept it.”

“You noticed?” Jeremy was shocked.

“Of course I noticed. I was confused - at first - but it’s become everything to me. If this is too complicated I understand ... but I hope - I don’t know.” He sighed, frustrated with himself and everything leading up to this point that was making him unable to trust his own feelings.

Jeremy bit his lip. “I’m here. You’re worth the wait, Jean. I want to be the one you can figure things out with.”

Jean sat up. “What if - what if I’m wrong about this?” His voice was breathy and when Jeremy met his eyes, they were wet.

“Then we’ll stop and we’ll continue being friends.”

“I don’t even know if I can try.” Every fear seemed to be coming to the front of his mind. “What if I’m wasting your time?”

Jeremy sat up. “I don’t care. Can I hold your hand again?” Jean nodded. “If after everything, you decide you’re not gay, or you’re not into me, it will all be fine. I could never hold it against you. I care about you and nothing will ever stop me from caring about you.”

Jean’s gaze on his face was intense but Jeremy tried to keep an open expression. He meant what he said and he needed Jean to know that everything would be okay.

“Can I kiss you?”

Jeremy felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. “Please.”

Day 7

As they sat on the boat that would take them back to the mainland Jeremy couldn’t help the smile on his face. Jean was next to him, arm pressed right against his.

He looked behind him to where Neil and Andrew sat, space between them but hands linked on the seat. Andrew was looking off in the distance.

Jeremy opened his mouth to ask Neil a question when Andrew’s head snapped in his direction. “It’s 8:30, I have a hangover and you’re annoying me.”

“I haven’t done anything.”

“That smile on your face is making my hangover worse.”

Jean turned around. “Get used to it.”

1 Kevin/Thea 2 Neil/Andrew 3 Dan/Matt 4 Allison/Renee 5 Jean/Jeremy 6 Aaron/Katelyn 7 2 freshmen 8 2 freshmen 9 2 freshmen 10 Nicky

#aftg #aftg fic #tfc #tfc fic #jerejean #background andreil #background kevinxthea