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bluedalahorse · 1 year

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Notes on Sara’s initiation costumes

I am allowing myself a few comments of meta before before I begin my Substantial Adulting Task Of The Day.

How we see a character at the beginning of a season and at the end of a season is so indicative of their arc. Costuming plays a role in this, and this morning I’m particularly interested in how it plays out with Sara.

In episode 2.1 of Young Royals, the Manor House girls initiate Sara into their circle. This initiation ceremony includes various costume items, all of which evoke with different archetypes and provide foreshadowing for the group’s eventual split. The girls cover Sara’s face with a witch mask, and have her wear an apron painted with a garishly bright and headless naked body, including prominent pillow breasts. For a portion of the initiation, Sara wears a princess’s tiara—something that is taken back by Fredrika, who anxiously explains about it being a family heirloom.

As we saw with Wilhelm’s initiation, and with initiations of this sort in real life, there is often a stage of the process that involves degradation or humiliation of the initiate before they are fully integrated into the community. The Manor House girls decide to degrade Sara with the breast-apron and the witch mask. Let’s unpack these symbols a little more. The nakedness of the apron speaks to with the idea of being exposed and vulnerable, but also—in this case—has connotations of sexuality and sexual awakening. It’s hard not to think of the way people cut teenage girls and adult women down by slut-shaming them. As for the witch, witches are folkloric outsiders. People of all genders in modern times have reclaimed the label of witch and found the empowering aspects of non-conformity, the same way Sara sometimes tries to empower herself by saying “I don’t need to fit in anyway” especially early on in the series. At the same time, we can’t ignore the way that historical accusations of witchcraft and witch trials have been used to push women out of their communities—especially older women, and women who were experiencing mental illness and neurodivergence. There’s a difference between claiming the role of the witch for oneself, and having it slapped on you as you’re forced out of the place you call home.

What about the tiara? The tiara of course invokes the archetype of the princess, and more broadly the idea of royal women. By joining Manor House, Sara has gotten a chance to “try on” royal status, but she doesn’t get to keep it. Fredrika taking the tiara back shows how quickly the can girls take back their welcoming of Sara, and how conscious they all are of Sara’s outsider status even when she’s passing her initiation with flying colors. (Lighting the banner on fire? Iconic.) I love how layered the symbolism of the tiara is, and how organically it fits into the Hillerska universe. It makes total literal sense that these landed rich kids would bring a family heirloom like that to school, use it for their teenage antics instead of like going to the drug store for bachelorette party supplies or whatever, and then get nervous about breaking it or getting it dirty during aforementioned teenage antics. And yet, the fact that this item has a history in Fredrika’s family shows that there’s a real system of power and wealth and lineage beyond the tiara—a system that works against girls like Sara.

Note that the tiara appears again in 2.5, when the girls are doing their TikTok video. The camera is panning across the dormitory wall when the voice on the video says “Who’s going to be the first to get married?” The camera lingers for a moment on a Polaroid of Sara during her initiation, where she’s wearing the breast-apron and the tiara together. This combination of power (tiara) and reproductive biology (apron) are a glaring reminder that the monarchy’s historic power has relied upon bloodlines to keep it going, and that they’ve used dynastic marriages to secure and maintain those bloodlines. This raises the question: does Sara reinforce that historical pattern with her gender in a way that Simon can’t, or disrupt it with her social class the same way her brother does? The camera cuts away from the photograph and over to the Manor House girls, who push Fredrika forward and she mimes showing off an engagement ring.

(Tangent: I keep wondering if Fredrika’s going to end up in a somewhat significant heterosexual relationship next season. I don’t see it taking over the plot but I can see it being used to develop themes.)

Let’s move ahead to the girls’ falling out and where Sara ends the season. Felice is upset with Sara in a fairly nuanced way; we know what she feels most betrayed by is Sara being in love with August when August did horrible crimes and Sara knew about it. Felice is trying to grapple with the complexity of Sara—she’s seen a side to her that she didn’t know about before and couldn’t have easily predicted. I think it’s fair to say that even if Felice is furious with Sara and feels deceived, she’s still seeing Sara as a human being. She’s just seeing a human being she doesn’t want to be friends with anymore.

Stella and Fredrika, meanwhile, don’t see Sara—they only see the initiation costume. Sara, the witch, is disloyal to Hillerska conformity and should be cast out. Sara, the blatantly naked girl, went and slept with a boy she shouldn’t have. I think it’s worth pointing out that while, yes, August did crimes and Sara knew that, Fredrika and Stella don’t know this part of the story. From their perspective, they are attacking Sara for… *checks notes*… hooking up with a guy that Felice dated last semester and never really cared about? They’re mad with Sara for being so “naive” as to be “manipulated” by the school’s notorious player (even though Sara did a fair amount of initiating in the relationship and August was infinitely less harassment-inclined toward the other Hillerska girls in season 2?) While, in life, sometimes slut-shaming is really obvious, there are other times where it’s covered up by flimsy excuses. “I’m sex-positive, I just think in this case she should have…” Stella and Fredrika are not making the case for justice or accountability. Again, they don’t know what this has done to Sara’s relationships with Simon and Felice. They’re enjoying the opportunity to tear Sara down and reinforce the values of their insular, elitist community.

This is precisely what makes Stella and Fredrika so interesting to me. Until they clear the air about whatever’s going on between them (we know Stella has unrequited romantic love, but Fredrika’s romantic feelings are unconfirmed, and it’s clear they haven’t had a real conversation about it) they are inclined to lash out at authenticity in others. Their joking about the sex tape and surrogate mothers in 1.6 kinda happens along the same lines. Sara has the authenticity of the witch archetype and allows herself to be emotionally naked/vulnerable in that moment, holding true to her heart even when it’s weaponized against her. This is why her parting line to Stella and Fredrika, about how at least she can be honest about her own feelings, is so satisfying to me. YMMV, of course. But I think it says a lot about who Sara is and what she’s willing to own, even if she takes a while to process a deeply messy situation and let go of what she loves.

(This is also why Maddie can’t be present in the scene. Maddie is chaotically authentic and only follows Hillerska’s rules when she wants to. She’d be chiming in like, ok yeah he’s evil trash but he at least went down on you right?)

To wrap up, I want to address Sara’s final look of the series. The word that comes to mind when I think of her final outfit is “dislocated.” Sara’s left her riding pants behind on the dorm room bed—a symbol of breaking with her friends, and specifically the way they’ve weaponized their wealth against her. As she leaves Hillerska’s grounds with her rolling suitcase, she’s wearing her skirt and blouse, but not her blazer and tie. She’s still somewhat attached to the school, but not in the way where she’s wearing their logo anymore. She also wears her purple shirt, reminding us of Simon’s infamous purple clothing accents, and I think we’re supposed to see this as her thoughts being partially with her brother and the home she grew up in. While Sara begins the season in caught up in a jumble of archetypes, she ends the season in a different kind of liminal space: between two worlds, but not really anchored in either of them. This makes me wonder where Sara will end up in season 3 physically. We’ve all assumed she is going back to Linda, but it may be that she tries something really unexpected, like moving in with her dad or trying to make it on her own now that she’s eighteen. Both of those things make me worry for her.

Sara’s future home is another issue entirely, so I’ll bring this back around to character arcs. There’s themes going on in season 2 about how people can get pigeonholed into certain fairy tale archetypes, and a lot those themes get reinforced through costuming choices. At the end of the season, we’re being asked to see Sara as a person—her sparkle and flaws all as once, just as she is.

BONUS COSTUMING NOTE: did you notice that Sara is predominantly dressed in white during the Valentines ball scene, while Felice is predominantly dressed in black? Please note that this is the episode where August begins scheming again and in the episodes that follow we see him lurking around the chess board in the common room and talking to the other third years about how to win chess and stuff. My point is, FELICE AND SARA ARE THE CHESS QUEENS THIS SEASON. I THINK IT IS SUPPOSED TO BE ON PURPOSE. I love the way this show makes me think!

#young royals #young royals meta #sara eriksson #felice ehrencrona #stella young royals #fredrika young royals #manor house girls #unabashed horse girl propaganda #and now back to trying to survive under capitalism

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sinplasm · 1 year

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I’ve finally decided to pick up the au again oh boy

Anyways this spooky month au is called rainbow factory au (as you could tell by the title)

To put the lore in a nutshell

Kevin dies o no (from who? Idk tbh )

Streber is in grief and some random company decided to invite him for a job so he can fix his boyfriend

This random company is some factory that sacrifices people to make colourful experiments and can’t be seen by the public eye and is in very secret

Streber agrees to TEMPORARILY join this factory / lab / company or whatever the fuk I’ll call it

Streber uses Kevin’s corpse he dug from the grave to revive him, though horribly fails at remaking kevin’s body and Kevin is just stuck in some weird ass pink goop thingy (his soul is still alive though)

Streber is pissed at himself for not recreating kevin’s body perfectly and decides to keep his job as a scientist just out of spite

Streber makes more experiments with other people and turning random kids and adults to monsters so he can use their colours to remake Kevin’s body, this eventually leads him to be more heartless about other people besides Kevin

Kevin doesn’t really know what to think about this. He tried to convince Streber to move on and let him rest but Streber won’t let him, kinda making him a bit obsessive. Kevin’s only there so he can keep his soul alive. Though Streber still tries to remake kevin’s body as well at times but that fails all the time

John, jack, and patty (who are kids in this au and orphans) see Ethan (who is a orphanage caretaker in this au) depressed because he hasn’t seen Streber in like 1 year or shit

Ethan has like this letter he wants to send to Streber but is too sad to do so so the John, jack and patty decide to steal the letter at night so they can deliver the letter to Streber for Ethan

However they get lost and find a ride that leads to the funny factory

The three orphans decide to sneak in because curiosity got the best of them but eventually get trapped inside the factory

The kids meet monsters who used to be humans and stuff, unpack some backstories and yeah

Streber is mainly the antagonist in this and Kevin is trying to lead the kids to safety

It’s kinda like a bendy and the ink machine kind of storyline

But yeah that’s basically kind of it for the story so far

Ill make the other designs the other characters soon I promise

But the characters that mainly focus on are John, Jack, Patty, Streber, Kevin, Lila (kind of?), Radford and Rick (trust me they play a role), Susie, and skid

Feel free to ask questions about this au ig but yeah the designs shown here are basically rainbow factory Kevin and Streber. Like I said I’ll do the other characters soon

#spooky month #art #digital art #digital fanart #spooky month fanart #spooky month kevin #spooky month streber #spooky month au #spooky month candybats #TWINK11!1!11

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zhoras-bitch · 1 year

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Y'all remember Sunkissed?

Probably not, it is sleep-inducingly boring, but I was reading it for the diamonds & it hit me... PB missed such a great opportunity to make the story about mermaids!

I mean, the book feels like PB kinda forgot to give it a plot anyway. There's the family drama, but it is not nearly interesting enough to spend 17 freaking chapters on. So here's how I’d write Sunkissed, but with mermaids.

We can keep the setting: MC (gender customisable, cause there is no point to make this book gender locked) comes back to Turtle Bay, the city their family used to live in before their dad died. With them is their mom, who seems very much opposed to the idea of coming back, and only agrees to stay for the summer to renovate the old family house & sell it. (MC assumes this attitude is the result of their mom not processing her loss in a healthy way, but we’re gonna learn it’s a little more complicated than that later.) For now, MC starts unpacking and in their old room they find a letter from their dad, in which he hints there's more to Turtle Bay than meets the eye.

We spend the rest of the chapter establishing the setting (checking out the town and the beach, meeting the LIs etc.). MC is confused about the letter, because the town seems completely normal... Until the end of chapter 1, when they accidentally discover that one of the LIs they met earlier is a merperson.

Obviously, this is supposed to be a secret, and MC promises to keep it. Still, they start spending time together, MC learns more about this new world and eventually discovers they have some supernatural powers, similar to those of merpeople.

We have two antagonists: one is some sort of merpeople leader, who dislikes the fact that MC, a human, was allowed in on the secret. The second is a human poacher/evil scientist who suspects that merpeople exist and wants to reveal them to the world. In the finale, antagonist comes this 👌 close to getting the proof, but MC and Eliana (a marine biologist & one of our LIs) manage to destroy/replace the evidence and even persuade the antagonist they were chasing shadows this whole time. Antagonist leaves the town in shame, and merpeople finally fully accept MC for saving their secret.

For LIs, Eliana’s character would definitely fit in well in this version, I wouldn’t even change much about her. Nathan could be rewritten as our main merman LI, and Samson is a sea witch some wise magician who knows about the supernatural world, but wants nothing to do with it. Or we could scrap them and make new LIs entirely.

At the family drama side of things, similar to the original, there is some drama between MC and their mom, but we spend waaaay less time with it. And like the original, MC is collecting letters from their dad, except in this version they tell the story of how he and MC’s mom met. At fists it’s just cute fluff, but there are hints something bigger is going on, until the big reveal - MC’s mom is actually a mermaid. She fell in love with a MC’s dad, a human, and broke a bunch of rules to be with him. Dad’s death can be a genuine accident/illness or something more sinister, depending on how dark we want to go. In any case, turns out the reason mom was so opposed to coming back to Turtle Bay is actually because she was trying to protect MC from the merpeople society, which to her brought nothing but misery.

Being half mermaid, MC can now live as both human and merperson. We could have different endings, but in my ideal version MC embraces both sides and stays in Turtle Bay with their new human and merpeople friends. They reconcile with their mom, and mom reconciles with her mer family as well, and they all live happily ever after.

P.S. Yes, this is inspired by the H2O series and Lovestruck’s My Siren Crush.

#playchoices #sunkissed #choices sunkissed #bitch speaks

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akamikazae · 2 years

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Love me Mercilessly Kakashi x Akami Chapter 22 Practice word count: 5.6k warnings: none Previous chapters [x]

Akami sat with Sasuke at the chabudai as he started on his homework. He had to sit up on his knees to reach comfortably over the table, even his pencil seemed too big in his hand. Sometimes she forgot how small he still was. It reminded her of where she was at his age, living on the run with no place to call home.

She got the sudden overwhelming urge to wrap her arms around his little body and squeeze the life out of him. She wasn’t entirely sure why.

Maybe it was because she was staring at the discarded hospital scrubs crumpled on her bedroom floor. Maybe because she was worried about Kakashi laid up in a hospital bed and what that meant for Sasuke’s future as a ninja. Maybe it was seeing her name written as his emergency contact—Filling in the same address for both their medical forms. Reading his blood-type, vaccination records, his allergy to walnuts (she didn’t know about.) But Akami very suddenly realized that Sasuke was as ill prepared for this new life as she was.

Akami pulled out a blank page from his notebook and stole one of his pencils to draw a makeshift map of the Village. She perused the bookcase for the most updated bingo book she could find.

Akami covered his homework with her hand to get his attention.

“Sasuke listen to me. This is very important.”

He put down his pencil and furrowed his brows. She had been acting strange ever since she picked him up…actually ever since this morning. And the bathroom still reeked of bleach.

“If anything ever happens you tell me immediately, it doesn’t matter how small. If something doesn’t feel right you tell me. Always listen to your gut, even if it makes you feel stupid. Okay?”

Sasuke nodded.

“If somethings wrong and you can’t find me and you need help. You do not go to the Hokage. You do not tell your teachers.”

She spun the bingo book around–though she was sure Sasuke could have picked him out of a line up the way he glared at him at the festival or the scowl he made when she mentioned the late night hospital escort.

“You find Kakashi.” She pointed to his photograph anyway.

“Or you find Tenzo. No one else.” She slid the book towards him so he could get a better look.

“If I ever tell you to run, you listen to me. If they ever tell you to run you listen to them. You don’t argue, you don’t fight, you run.”

She pulled out her makeshift map and pointed. She’d be sure to make him walk the routes.

“If anything happens. You wait for one of us here. Do you understand?”

Sasuke nodded, a little confused at her tone and urgency.

She didn’t want to scare him but after what happened to his family, she didn’t trust him in the hands of anyone else.

Akami reached across the table and pulled him in for a suffocating hug.

“You know I love you right, you know I’d do anything for you?” She said to the top of his head.

“I know, I know” He tried to squirm out of her grasp but she wouldn’t let him escape. Eventually he relented and hugged her back just as tight.

“I love you too Kami-chan” he said, resting his head against her shoulder and giving her forearm a tiny squeeze.

She never used to worry. Fighting was simple. Life was hard.

Akami made sure to have whatever Sasuke wanted from his old home moved here; he didn’t take much. Just his clothes, his fathers swords, a small photo album and some of his mothers dishes. He wanted nothing to do with Itachi. He ripped him out of every photo.

The only evidence of Itachi that remained was the photograph Kakashi gifted Akami years ago. She kept it in her nightstand. She didn't look at the photo often but knowing it was there was enough. She couldn’t bring herself to part with it.

Akami finally had everything unpacked, as she and Sasuke got settled into their new home. There were still a lot of repairs to be made but it was nice to have all of her books and scrolls in one place, no longer collecting dust hidden away in storage. Reading was the only fond memory she had of her childhood, the thought suddenly came to her that it was Umiko who taught her how to read. She placed the last book on the shelf and thought of something else.

She kept her collection of knives and blades in a glass case above the bookshelf. Many of them relics claimed in battle, scavenged in pawn shops, traded in bars. Some were worth hundreds, some worth nothing at all. She loved each one just the same; carrying stories forged in steel like slices of time, living a life all their own. A life much like hers, paved in blood. Yet there was a delicateness to a sharp cut of steel, the craftsmanship and skill required to create something so intrinsically beautiful.

Akami hung Fugaku’s swords on the wall in the freshly painted dining room. His blades were far nicer than her own. The saya were beautifully ornate, the clan crest and police sigil intricately engraved in the sheaths. One of the swords' hilts was wrapped tightly in a red leather and the tsuba was carved to look like the three patterned tomoe of the sharingan. Akami thought it might be nice for Sasuke to have them out on display, she knew how much his clan meant to him.

For all his hatred of her, Fugaku never once forbade Sasuke from seeing her. And she couldn’t deny that the swords were beautiful.

Akami sighed, sheathed Fugaku’s sword and placed it amongst its brothers.

She’d be sure to show Sasuke how to wield a blade as well.

The Hospital would only discharge Kakashi into Akami's care—she was his fake wife after all. He was particularly irritated by the smug look on her face as she thanked the staff for taking such wonderful care of her miserable husband.

He still needed bed rest and wouldn’t be on active duty for at least a few more weeks. So Akami took him home and dumped him in his bed.

Kakashi never got the chance to turn in his mission report so he asked Akami to drop it off for him. She couldn’t resist and read through it; she already has a decent understanding of what happened anyway.

A copy of the initial intel was included with his report. It was vague and basically useless. It was no wonder he came back in pieces, they essentially went in blind. If it was anyone else leading the charge, they’d have come back in body scrolls…if at all.

Reading the little information present Akami expertly deduced that the Village Kakashi infiltrated was the Land of Keys.

There was no mention at all of Keys' repeated use of the Land of Woods Pranya Team.

They had an unofficial relationship. Keys excelled in espionage and Woods preferred its seclusion in the forest. They traded information for muscle.

Akami assumed intelligence had to know about their provisional alliance—she knew because of that nin from Woods she interrogated a few years ago. But if intelligence knew… why wasn't it in the report?

“You’re supposed to drop it off for me, not spell check it.” Kakashi said, holding his bandaged ribcage and limping past her into the living room.

“Shut up I’m thinking.” Akami said, leaning forward on the couch.

“Is that why you look so mad?”

Continue reading [x]

#kid sasuke #sasuke #kakashi #kakashi hatake #naruto #sasuke fluff #kakashi fluff #love me mercilessly #angst #kakashi x oc #fanfic #ao3 update #ao3feed #naruto fic #fic writer #queued post

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elizabethsiglersoc201h · 23 days

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Post #3- Camping Indoors Sure Beats Homelessness

Lately I’ve been complaining that I feel like I’m camping indoors. I try not to say it around my boyfriend too much because I know he feels bad, the same way he felt bad this same two years ago when I had to spend a month couch surfing. I even omitted the whole couch surfing part of the apartment search fiasco from a personal essay that I wrote (for Apartment Advisor) in 2023. To be fair, that decision goes beyond the stigma of homelessness. For one thing, I know that things could’ve been much worse. For another thing, I learned long ago that my work/output matches my pay. Well, there are some exceptions of course. When it comes to freelance writing you always want to make sure that your editor gets what they need and that they feel your end product matches what you pitched. I put a lot into that article and I’m as proud of it as I am of all of my other work. At the same time, I wasn’t getting paid to write about such serious, deep things. AA’s focus was on the logistics of a challenging apartment search that spanned nearly eight weeks and I was more than okay with that.

As I gain more distance from it, the whole ordeal gets a little bit easier to talk about. I felt like Goldilocks- every few days I’d bounce between my best friend’s farm in Smithville (near Wooster) and my boyfriend’s mom’s house in Wadsworth (near Akron). My things were stored in my nana’s basement and the things I might need during my month of couch surfing were stored in my car at my parent’s house. Outside of a few months during the pandemic, I haven’t lived with my parents in about ten years. They kept offering to let me stay again but I would politely decline. There are good reasons why I moved out at a relatively young age.

When I look back on that time period, what I keep coming back to is how difficult it was to lack a quiet space that I could be in full control of. I didn’t have the option of sitting down at my desk and working on stuff whenever I wanted. It was a particularly bad time for that because I was taking an advanced workshop (writing course) through 92Y. I still remember the giddy rush that flooded me months before when I found out that I was one of the ten people accepted, and then the other similar rush when they approved me for a full scholarship. I’d been ridiculously excited for that class for a long time and when it finally arrived I was hardly able to focus on it. I felt as if I were logging on every week just to embarrass myself in front of nine other really good writers and our instructor- who was the editor of The Paris Review and an accomplished author. Yikes. All of that comprises the bulk of my embarrassment around being homeless.

There were good things too. Like the valuable time I spent with my best friend! Back when I lived in Wooster– in my very first apartment– she lived just two houses down. Later on she would spend a couple years living with me. Then when I moved away to Chicago she started to look over this gorgeous farm for a family that planned to spend a significant amount of time sailing and seeing the world. I spent a lot of time there after moving home during the pandemic. Anyway, she was about to give the farm back to its owners and move to Michigan due to a job transfer. I still hadn’t wrapped my head around the idea but I knew enough to know that things would never be the same. So I spent a lot of my homeless month on the air mattress in her spare bedroom. She’d come home from work and we’d stay up late watching Atlanta or Mr. Robot, or just talking.

That time also taught me a lot about life in general. This is another reason why I try not to complain too much about “camping indoors.” It’s all about perspective.

Besides, I’ll be able to do more unpacking (beyond the bare minimums) here soon. Finals will be over eventually. It seems like my boyfriend’s mystery illness has a preliminary diagnosis after two long weeks of extensive testing, and once the diagnosis is confirmed he’ll have help treating it. Hopefully during an appointment this Monday! I’m absolutely thrilled that it doesn’t seem to be a cancer recurrence (they’re very close to ruling this out). He’s as eager as I am to help me make this place more liveable, but health has to come first. Whatever this is will continue to require lots of rest and that’s okay. To everything there is a season.

I’d much rather have decent grades and a healthy household than furnishings that can be built and boxes that can be unpacked literally any other time. Our stuff isn’t going anywhere. And my mom keeps begging to help out, so once things are less hectic I’ll have her come up to Cleveland.

I have a roof over my head in a walkable location, two amazing pets that get along well, my glorious desk, and a fully equipped kitchen. When I was couch surfing I subsisted on sandwiches made from packets of deli turkey and takeout. We’re eating a lot healthier these days and that matters more than whether or not every part of this place– where I’ve lived for only one month now (I have to keep reminding myself of this)– is clean and perfectly organized. Sometimes it’s more important to focus on everything that’s right in front of you. No one person can have every single thing exactly as they would like it to be at all times.

It sounds like common sense, right? But this is harder for women to understand, at least in practice. I grew up under this persistent, toxic positivity culture of “women can have everything! Women can do it all! Gosh, our society really has come so far huh.” Wrong (I wish).

In reality, women have to do it because we’re expected or in some cases forced to do it all. The Mental Load is one of my favorite nonfiction books and it brilliantly breaks down this concept.

So for another week or two, I’ll gladly resign myself to a little bit more “camping indoors.” In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter that my underarms look like the underarms of a sasquatch because I can’t find one of my razors. It doesn’t matter much that I keep washing the same few dishes and the same few outfits in order to spend any precious unpacking time on other necessities. Who would even notice, and call me out on any of that? Maybe my mom. But she won’t be here for awhile yet. I’ll keep choosing to focus on the bigger picture and be content with what’s good enough.

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forestryfae · 1 month

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i literally just need a real dresser and ill be completely set and i can properly clean in here. like. i havent washed the floors or really finished unpacking or been done tidying or moving in here in a week and staff are wholly unhelpful

the dressers they have are just too small and i need a bigger one so i can actually fit everything without filling it to the brim but somehow the only answer i get is "well how will you bring it with you when you move" and "we have dressers you can have one from us" like no? just buy me a bigger one or fucking. help me buy one. the ones they have are not big enough at all if you own anything made from thicker materials than jeans and tshirts.

also would help if they could get rid of the MASSIVE dining table i will 100% not use and do not need, the gaming chair i have absolutely no need for, or the extra chair in my room that im using to store some of my clothes. its taped on the armrests cus its old and used. get rid of it??

will be trying to move a shelf thingy and put it somewhere though so ill have real space to store clothes that isnt just on top of the desk ive been using a storage space. if only theyd get rid of the dining table so i can move the desk and have somewhere to draw

i have a couch area w like 4 seats, 5 if you count one of the chairs, along with the kitchen which has two chairs and a table. its a one/two person apartment and theres a table in the kitchen that fits two people just fine along w two couches. come on.

like its just a short period of time ill be living here, maybe a year ish since ill eventually be done w the program here and stuff. but itd still be nice if i could like. be comfortable and not need to deal with a million dumb things that should be neccessary to deal with

like there genuinely isnt enough space in here for this bullshit. the bedrooms are too small to fit the shit they put in them. my bedroom had a bed, tiny dresser, chair, actual livingroom table, one of those dumb fucking Aesthetic Hang Your Clothes Up As Decoration thingies, and a lamp. where the FUCK am i gonna fit my stuff?? why is it SO full???? i dont have a closet or dresser or desk in there wtf. the other bedroom is being used as a laundry and drying room and there isnt even enough space in there. the closet is full of clothinghangers, blankets, various lamps ive removed from places they didnt fit, pillows, and a mattress, theres a vacuum and two norwegian flags?? a board for steaming and unwrinkling your clothes, and i moved the dumb fucking aesthetic clothinghanger bullshit.

staff ofc are protesting my every request for some kind of cooperation where they remove stuff and put it in storage so i can actually use the apartment and livingroom like a normal person. like. the massive dining table, four dining chairs, old taped chair, gamer chair, fuckton of plates and glasses and cups that match w absolutely nothing, two waterboilers, two kitchenmachines??are they old breadmachines?? the addons to the breadmachines, like 17 pot and pan tops with NO matching pot or pan, the broken footrest, coffeeboiler i wont be using, coffe bullshit i wont be using, extra coffeepot w no machine? the aesthetic clothinghanger and the norwegian flag none of these are neccessary in here. literally none of them. they SHOULD go into storage

anyways im gonna see if i cant move the shelf out of the other bathroom soon so i can atleast store my clothes SOMEWHERE. it doesnt even fit in the bathroom its in, its in the way for the only space where laundry could go that isnt the hallway in to the bathroom.

#talkies #idk im sad and annoyed today and i cant even clean the apartment properly on account of the metric ton of bullshit #btw i dont have any buckets in here either and there were three towels here. i had to steal mop stuff and i WILL be stealing a bucket #like sorry not sorry maybe you guys should. let me go shopping for shit i need in here. upgrade it a little #one of the mops is missing its head too like. thats a stick. why is there a stick in here

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cutlikediamonds · 1 year

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060923

i remember some of my lowest points ever writing in my journals like i was getting paid by the word. i just would talk over every little thought i had with myself, with the journal. instead of texting anyone or going out or talking to my family. i didnt want to, i wanted to rely on myself, i wanted to feel okay on my own and i did, i had a blast with myself. but even as much as i loved being alone, still love being alone, there were days when a very specific loneliness just followed me fucking everywhere, like it was smoke in the room and i didnt wanna breathe it into my lungs but there was no way to escape it, breathing more shallow to try anyway. its funny that i used to be so worried about not being able to handle being alone that i trained myself on it too well and now i dont know how to need people.

i miss my dorm, i miss being walking distance from my two best friends and a two hour drive away from everything else i didnt wanna think about. i miss having rooms to myself to laugh at my own jokes and cry at my favorite songs and sit on my floor writing every single thought in my journal.

it was safer there. when i couldnt avoid the people i needed. they noticed if i was ghosting, they checked on me, and we ate meals together, had gossip to catch each other up on, a breakup to coach her through, school work troubles to push through together. i miss being able to stare at my phone for ten minutes and eventually finally send a text that is way too short and too vague but it was all i could manage and theyd come over. with games and snacks and a bright attitude but also ready to listen. i miss sitting on my floor, alone. i miss sitting on my floor with music playing and my cat being a menace. i miss sitting on my floor with my friends when they came over.

i was so lonely, its weird. now im lonely again but longing for that loneliness instead. because now were home and one of us is going away and we cant walk to each other anymore and i could probably still text them like that and theyd still come over like that but its not my floor wed sit on anymore. i dont feel real here. i dont want them to look at me here. i feel it in them too, like they dont wanna be looked at either. cuz this isnt us, this isnt who we are, this is where were stuck being until the fall when we can be together again and be ourselves again and resume our lives. but for now we have to put it all away for a second to revive our roles in our own homes, in our blood families, roles we just spent the whole year ditching, processing, unpacking, resenting. but we had to come back eventually. we cant ditch it like we want to.

and its nice, i dont want to ditch it. sometimes my family helps me feel more real. i like realizing how similar i am to my parents sometimes, or noticing how the drama with our relatives isnt actually all that different from my friend groups drama history. its nice. i feel like an orphan like most of the time, like i was never born and i have no past or history or ancestors and everything im doing is just because i appeared one day and life doesnt really mean anything at all. it makes me go crazy sometimes, but being home helps. only sometimes though, and only in that sense.

okay. got that all out.

im super bloated, gained a bit but im pretty positive its just food/water/bloating weight so i kinda dont care, im gonna eat light today and if it doesnt go back down then ill worry. also i feel kinda nauseous anyway. i kinda have been noticing that a lot actually lately. i cant tell if its the constant pit of dread that i havent been able to shake or if its recent eating habits catching up to me or if its too much caffeine or whatever the fuck but its there. if i dont force myself to eat or smoke then it could make me have such a little appetite. im just gonna let it happen today, let myself feel unwell, let myself avoid avoid avoid.

i want to be... okay. i wish i was okay. everythings so hard, i cant remember who i am when im here. i miss my dorm. sometimes i think i havent felt like myself since i left, but then maybe i havent been myself since senior year, or maybe since the summer before, or since the pandemic maybe, or since middle school, since dad died, or maybe since i was four. i cant wrap my head around how much i feel simultaneously so detached to the world but also incredibly attached to it, to worldly things.

i wanna get up and exercise i know itd help but i cant make myself move. i wanna study and do the homework i have to do today but i cant make myself read a single word.

i feel so sick.

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orcelito · 3 years

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My figurines are packed up

Thanatos was kinda obnoxious to pack up again lmao

#speculation nation #SO MANY PARTS #anyways ill likely unpack these guys not long after moving bc i like their company #i was SUPPOSED to have joker too >:/ but whatever #i'll get him eventually. just need to get a fucking refund first so i can buy it from a Good seller

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autisticandroids · 3 years

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Fic about Destiel dysfunction told through the framing device of Jack's future therapy sessions.

OH BOY. OH I DON'T WANNA WRITE THIS BECAUSE IT SOUNDS HARD BUT I WANNA READ IT SOOOOOOOO BAD.

wait. scratch that. i actually do have a fic that i've tossed around writing (but probably won't actually write) that's like. a sequel to "i fold in half so easily." like i won't write it because i like where that fic leaves off and i don't want to fix it in some cheap way. like i LIKE where that fic leaves off, and fixing it for any of them would cheapen it. let them all rot in self-imposed hells forever.

HOWEVER. hypothetically. if i were to do the long, grueling work of fixing at least some of the characters in that fic. well. i've thought about it.

- first off. jack has to come back. like you can't actually fix anything about i fold in half so easily if jack doesn't come back. because nothing short of jack's return would convince cas to change anything, and nothing short of making amends to jack would convince cas to like. value himself. anyway. jack comes back. he just sort of materializes near the site of kelly's cabin. he doesn't remember the last couple years because he has a sam-in-season-six style trauma wall in his head.

- anyway. jack materializes, and he just. calls cas. on a payphone. and cas is like. okay jack. stay right there. don't leave. don't call sam or dean. i'm coming to get you. and cas just. doesn't say a word to sam or dean. makes sure they don't see him leave. hops in his truck. and drives 25 hours straight to the west coast.

- he finds jack just sitting under a tree, waiting, exactly where he said he'd be. and so they hug. and cas cries. and he gets jack in the truck. they drive, and they don't talk. or cas doesn't. jack asks a fine questions, to which cas give noncommittal, monosyllabic answers. until finally jack just says i'm hungry, and cas pulls off the highway, and they go to a diner. (the exact kind of diner the winchesters would pick.)

- when the food comes, cas eats too. he doesn't usually do that, and jack is like, are you human, now? and cas is like no. what? and jack is like. you're eating. and cas is like oh. yes. i am. i don't have to do that. so he puts down his fork, and he smiles a little at jack. jack feels like this means something significant, but he doesn't know what. he's just happy to finish cas' home fries.

- eventually, jack asks about dean, and cas actually answers. he says "dean isn't our friend anymore, jack." he doesn't elaborate.

- the thing about cas is that he knows that dean has done something bad. he even partly knows what that thing is. and he knows he needs to keep dean away from jack. but he can't really name that, out loud. this is partly because he can't bring himself to speak ill of dean, even now, especially not in front of jack. it's partly because he himself cannot fully grasp the nature of the harm done: he knows that dean is a threat to jack's physical safety, that's something he can wrap his head around. but dean has also harmed cas terribly, in the emotional sense, and he has no idea how to conceptualize that, much less put it into words. furthermore, he is afraid dean might have done something similar to jack, and that terrifies him so much that he can't look at it. and lastly, cas can't bring himself to unpack his own complicity in how dean has hurt jack, especially not in front of jack. so he is rendered speechless. he can't talk about why they're not friends with dean anymore, only that they aren't. cas is extremely capable of thinking about things and is NOT trying very hard not to reconsider anything that's happened in the past five years or so

- anyway. for a few months cas and jack live in a series of cars, driving up and down the coast. cas keeps ditching them and stealing new ones. he also ditches his cellphone. this is all to keep the winchesters from tracking them, because cas is like. intensely paranoid about that. but he doesn't explain this to jack.

- anyway. after like, a few months of this. jack is like. my dad is acting really weird. he's clearly freaked out about something but he won't TALK to me. i think there are?? problems?? apparently you're supposed to work on problems in therapy. so he calls dr. vallens and makes an appointment.

- dr. vallens is like. i am a GRIEF counselor. however. since you saved my life that one time and obviously desperately need my help. and also i see my past self in you. maybe we can do weekly sessions.

- so. cas and jack settle down in wisconsin. and get therapy with dr. vallens. and horrify her with various things about their lives and relationships.

examples:

cas and jack originally getting like family therapy together but cas simply Will Not talk in front of jack so she ends up having to separate them

dr. vallens voice if you want to lessen the negative impact on jack you're going to have to say something negative to him about dean at some point. cas voice but i don't want to ruin his attachment to his father dr. vallens voice you're the one who went no contact with the winchesters. cas voice but. but.

cas confessing to his many crimes and her having to leave the room and hyperventilate

cas explaining that he doesn't really know how money works, and had to throw away his cellphone because it might have a tracking app, but doesn't know how to buy a new one, and doesn't know how to rent an apartment, and mia being like. Hm. well. hm.

dr. vallens: castiel, you're not a child- wait, actually, are you a child in angel terms? cas: angels don't have an equivalent of childhood. we were created at the beginning of time fully as we are and carefully kept at we were created, having our minds pruned of undesirable thoughts to prevent any sort of serious change dr. vallens: .......okay- cas: dean has compared me to a child many times when he was angry. perhaps i am equivalent to a child in human terms? dr. vallens: i don't think that's why he did that

cas telling mia about claire, and incidentally explaining that he's actually piloting a corpse, and mia having to go throw up

cas explaining that angels are in fact real but that they've basically wiped themselves out in civil wars over the last decade or so

eventually they ARE going to have to like. re-encounter the winchesters. because jack wants to see them, and cas can only refuse him for so long. absolutely no idea how that's going to go though.

#spn #asks #death-star510

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k-dokja · 3 years

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SOFT THORNS — “sometimes we fall in love with ideas, not people”

Summary: Collection of writing based on lines taken from Bridgett Devoue's Soft Thorns.

Admittedly, he didn't think when he texted you before his return. You'd worry, he knew that. But keeping the information from you would have eaten him up from inside. One was worse than the other, he didn't have to think to know which one to pick.

It was better to keep you in the loop than to let you boil with anxiety from not knowing. And... maybe, he was grateful for the chance to lessen the weight on his shoulder, too.

Concern laid in your eyes when you saw him returning, beat up and bruised everywhere. However, much of it was aimed at his original body. He couldn't even ignore it even while he changed into proper clothes, he knew he'd have to reassure you eventually.

"You're going as yourself?" You bit down your lips with furrowed brows. "Would that be okay?"

Even with his newly gained skill in Systema, this body would be inferior to the other one in terms of reach, durability, strength, and... everything, really.

But he knew this would be futile had he not gone as himself, which gave him no other option. He only wished he had the time to explain his reasoning to you.

"Your faith in your boyfriend is abysmal," Daniel smiled at you while trying to fix his tie. Seeing his struggles, you stepped in without getting asked. The gesture was appreciated, but a slight sense of defeat loomed over him. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"I trust you but I don't trust him," your pouting continued even when you moved to smooth down his collar, "he attempted to kill you once and... I don't know, something about him changed, I don't like the current look of him."

Heaviness laid in the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. He didn't want to leave you with the weight of his burden before he left. "Guess I don't have to worry about you leaving me for him then," an attempt to lift the mood, feeble as it was.

Unfortunately for him, you didn't find humour in it the way he did. "Don't even joke about it," you smacked his chest lightly, giving him the chance to catch your hands in his own.

"What can I do to help my darling girlfriend feel better then?" Daniel raised your hands to his lips, soft kisses traced the back of your hand as a gesture of comfort.

It worked better than his ill-timed jest as your frown loosened, but the tension remained on your shoulder. "You can always let me fight him for you."

...He won't even discuss the novelty of that idea. "And get to worry about you instead? Perish the thought, my lady," Daniel tugged you closer to him, his embrace held you tight in his arms, "I'd not want you to be anywhere within his reach."

"You goofball," your chastisement was devoid of any anger for him to worry about, "promise me you'll be safe, okay?"

With his forehead pressed to yours, he grinned, bridging the final gap between the two of you, "No promise," however, you had another idea, "are you really withholding my farewell kiss before I go into a boss battle?"

"I said don't joke about it," you grumbled, pulling further away from him, "at least, promise to never joke about your life again."

He laughed softly, kissing you on the tip of your nose. That, you didn't dodge. "All right, that I can promise," he conceded, "now, my kiss, please."

With a dramatic sigh, you left him with a peck on the lips. The giggle you made had him echoing with his own, but when he kissed you again, you melted into his embrace completely. If only he had the chance to feel the same. It was trying, considering how some of his anxiety came from his thoughts of you.

"...What are you worried about?" Your whisper was close to his lips, the concern was there again, more prominent than before.

Daniel knew he shouldn't lie to you, but at that moment, he almost thought of doing it. This was a wound too close to you for him to uncover. But he had to do it anyway. "There's a lot to unpack between the two of us," he confessed, "he will bring you up eventually."

"And it wouldn't change anything," you reassured him, "he doesn't know me, Daniel."

The sigh exhaled past his lips came from the depth of his heart, ridden in his woes and worries, "He didn't get the chance..."

"He didn't deserve one." Your reminder came with a firm determination which set your eyes ablaze. "From the start, he only liked me because what I could offer him not what I am as a person. He'd never be able to handle any of it and I... could never like someone like that."

"But you can like someone like me?" It was his turn to whisper, the momentary weakness before the storm.

When you pulled his head down to you, Daniel complied easily. The gentle kiss you dropped on his forehead washed away a fraction of his worry, giving him an unexpected calm. "You have a lot to like, a lot more than I could say for him," you cupped his head, keeping his eyes leveled with yours "Jiho is selfish, Daniel. I hope he can change, too, but I don't have any faith in it happening."

"Well, here's hoping you're wrong for once," he kissed your nose one last time before he had to detach himself from you, "I'm not looking forwards to seeing you being right this time around."

That got you smiling, only a little. "It's a burden to always be right," you kissed him again, indefinitely sweet, "come home to me, okay?"

He nodded, heart swelled with unspoken affection for you. "Okay," he would have to vocalize it somehow, "I love you."

"I love you, too," you answered him readily, finally willing to let him go.

Parting with you would never become easier, but he had to cast his reluctance aside this time around. There was a chapter he needed to close behind him and that'd mean leaving your side for the time being. He could only hope he will be able to return soon.

#daniel park #daniel park x reader #lookism #lookism x reader #fics

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mianavs · 3 years

Text

Ameliorate

Your life was always a dark abyss until Matsukawa came in and made everything better

Matsukawa x f!reader

a/n: hands down the most difficult piece I’ve worked on but it’s finally done. not sure how i feel about it but i hope you all enjoy it anyway! kind of a slow burn fyi

tw: smut, oral (f!reader receiving), heavy angst, mentions of death/grieving

wc: 5.8k

It was a call you didn’t want to take. You were at work going over some accounts when the screen of your cell came to life and angrily vibrated on your desk. Sighing, you reached over to swipe on the red phone icon but the caller id caught your eye leaving you stunned.

[Mother]

You almost missed the call, lost in the negative emotions that the title unburied from the dark recesses of your mind. On impulse, you answered last minute and took a deep breath before you spoke to your mother for the first time since you left home four years ago. In the second it took for your mother to speak, you held out for an apology but instead received the news that your father had passed away the night before.

You exchanged few words with your mother, who was as frigid as ever, but nonetheless agreed to return home for the funeral. After informing your supervisor and taking off the rest of the week, you collected your things to leave only to be bombarded by your coworkers offering their condolences. You accepted their sincerity but felt nothing except for a queer emptiness.

Upon reaching the ground floor of the building, the elevator doors opened and a familiar voice caught your attention. You looked up to face your ex-fiancé speaking animatedly on the phone—until he saw you and his smile faltered.

It had been a mutual decision. After two years of dating, he’d wanted marriage and you—well, you weren’t sure what you wanted but marriage sure wasn’t it. The last you’d heard he had gotten married to some girl from HR and he looked happy. You plastered a smile on your face and greeted him with a nod before heading out.

At least one of you was happy.

On the train to Miyagi, memories of your parents occupied your thoughts. Your relationship them had always been strained. As the only child of a prestigious university professor and a retired news anchor turned housewife, they expected a lot from you academically and socially. Throughout your childhood, you struggled under the immense pressure they placed and you , more often than not, disappointed them.

It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to be their perfect daughter, you always fell short and got reproached accordingly. Your above average grades were never good enough. Your clumsiness and constant slouch made you unladylike, and your awkward mumbled speech was shameful. No matter what you did, the scrutiny never stopped and your imperfections only worsened over time. Your grades fell, you avoided going out with your parents to social events, and you spoke very little to your parents.

A quiet girl with no self-esteem, you started high school at Aoba Josai and everything changed when you met Matsukawa Issei. He approached you first during homeroom on your first day of school and never stopped talking to you from then on. He was patient and kind with you but also pushed you to get out of you shell. Before you knew it, he became your best friend and the two of you spent all of your free time together.

Issei’s friendship raised you up in many forms. Your grades increased after all those study sessions with him and Hanamaki. You stopped looking down at your shoes and found that the sky was much nicer to look at. You laughed, yelled, cried, and talked to Issei about anything and everything.

The change had been so sudden that even your parents noticed and treated you better. They stopped criticizing your every movement and that did wonders to your confidence. While the relationship between you and your parents slightly improved, your relationship with Issei bloomed like the cherry blossoms that fell on the day he confessed to you. For the first time in your life, you were truly happy until everything shattered when your parents found out about you and Issei.

You were reckless with the lies you told your parents to sneak out and see Issei. Your mind was clouded with thoughts of your boyfriend that you hadn’t noticed your parents had been awake when you snuck out at night. That night your parents caught you outside on a park bench with Issei’s head on your lap. As a result, you were confined to your room for a week with your mother becoming your personal jailer and after getting a taste of love and freedom—you refused to go back to being that insecure girl.

You rebelled against your parents. You got into screaming matches with your mother and argued with your father. The worst part of it all was the guilt that you felt after you’d yell at your mother or insulted your father. In that moment, you’d see the hurt in their eyes and the hesitation before they sent you to your room. You hated those looks because it proved that they too had feelings and you were capable of hurting them just like they’d hurt you.

Until you graduated, you lived like a ghost in your own home avoiding your parents as much as you could. You filled the emptiness you felt with Issei, who became your whole world. You went to all of his volleyball matches, he picked you up after work, and you spent most of your time at his house and with his family. The two of you planned a future together during your first year at college in Yokohama until the news of your mother falling ill sent you back home.

“Now arriving at Tokyo station”

The announcement interrupted your musings and you pulled out your phone to distract yourself from the bustle of people exiting the train. You scrolled through your social media page until a rare post from an old friend caught your attention. Oikawa had uploaded a photo of a historic site in Argentina and you found yourself searching for Issei’s name among the thousands of likes and comments. While Issei’s name hadn’t popped up, Hanamaki’s did and you clicked on his profile thoughtlessly. It didn’t take much digging on your behalf to find what you were looking for.

Only a couple of posts down was a photo of Hanamaki and Issei from a year ago at a restaurant you would recognize anywhere—after all, you’d worked there for two years. You couldn’t help but admire how good they looked. You memorized every detail of Issei’s face before a thought crossed your mind and your finger hovered over the screen.

A tap on the photo revealed Issei’s account and you hesitated to wonder if stalking your ex-boyfriend’s social media was the right move before you tapped on his username anyway and his profile opened up. It was on private to your dismay but his account picture showed you more than enough. It was one of Issei with one arm swung over a pretty woman’s shoulder. Shutting off your phone, you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t care but the tightness in your chest proved otherwise.

Gazing out the window at the rural towns the train passed reminded you of your father and his love for the countryside. You hated to admit it but, after living in the city for three years, you came to share the same sentiments as your father.

After returning home following the news of your mother’s illness, your father moved the family to rural Miyagi believing the fresh country air would do her good. Moving back with your parents wasn’t as difficult as you’d feared after leaving everything behind. Your mother still nagged you over everything but not as cruelly and would occasionally compliment your cooking when you fed her.

It was the relationship with your father, however, that changed the most which was why his deception hurt you the most. Your father was the one that helped you transfer to the university he taught at. The two of you always left for school together and conversations about school eventually filled the quiet void during those hour-long train rides to Sendai. Your conversations became personal at night over tea or sake and, in those moments, you felt as if you could forgive your parents and develop a relationship with them.

You should have been more suspicious about your mother’s condition. Whenever you asked your father about it, you’d attributed his wavering gaze to concern over your mother. The improved relationship between you and your parents distracted you from the unchanging condition of your mother despite constant medication and hospital visits. It never crossed your mind that the sickness had only been a ploy to guilt you into coming back to Miyagi so your parents could resume molding their matured daughter into what they wanted.

You found out by chance while listening in to a conversation amongst them but that was all it took to turn your newfound affection for your parents into resentment. For the entirety of the confrontation, you bit back tears when their reactions confirmed everything had been made up. After packing up your things and disowning your parents, you left home vowing never to come back.

“Now arriving at Sendai station”

The long drive to your childhood home did nothing to prepare you for the meeting with your mother. She looked tired and beat down; a sharp contrast to the strong woman she used to be.

“You look awful,” She chided, eyeing you with her sharp gaze. “You’re thin and sickly.”

“So are you.” Your retort was immediate and thoughtless but it shut your mother up. After a moment of deafening silence, she offered to help you with your bag but you declined.

“Come downstairs after you unpack. Dinner is almost ready.” With that, your mother left to the kitchen.

You were surprised to find your room in the same state it had been when you left for college. Palming through your old notebooks, opening your drawers to sift through old clothes, and collapsing on your bed to bury your nose in the sheets made you miss the simpler days of high school.

In the end, you were too distracted by your room to unpack but made sure to wash up before heading down to dinner—a habit your mother instilled in you and returned after only being in the house for twenty minutes. You also took your usual spot across your mother while the chair that your father had once sat in stood bare at the head of the table. The empty spot was disconcerting but your eyes remained fixed on the chair while your mind worked to restore the image of your father on it. Your trancelike state stopped when your mother cleared her throat.

“The wake will be tomorrow morning so ready by nine.”

“Do I need to do anything?”

“A small speech is expected of you.” She stated and left no room for argument. “There will also be familiar faces so behave accordingly.”

The meaning behind your mother’s warning dawned on you when the two of you entered the funeral home and were greeted by the one familiar face you didn’t expect to see—Issei.

If he was surprised to see you, he didn’t show it and was all business when he addressed your mother. Your shock only increased when your mother didn’t go off on Issei and instead treated him like an actual human.

When his sharp gaze shifted to your form, the air around you seemed to thicken and breathing became impossible. Standing in front of Issei took you back in time to those days when Issei would wait for you in the mornings to walk to school. You could have lost yourself in his eyes but the purpose of your return tore your eyes away and you bowed in greeting, not trusting your voice. He bowed as well and offered his condolences before turning to your mother and discussing the schedule and other details as they walked into the building with you in tow.

The discomfort you felt during the service increased tenfold with the arrival of the guests. Former colleagues of your father, friends of your mother, and neighbors crowded the small funeral home and they all had their eyes on you. The condolences, hugs, and pats left you suffocated and desensitized. Before long, their words fused together into a clangor that left you disoriented. You thought you were going to pass out until a former professor of yours asked a question that destroyed whatever remained of your composure.

“…so when did they find out the tumor was malignant?”

Tumor?

Malignant?

Your overwhelmed brain pieced together the information until you understood what had caused your father’s death—cancer. In that moment, everything ceased to exist and there was only you and your thoughts. Your blood ran cold and all of your limbs went numb. While your mouth hung open, not a syllable fell from your lips. As opposed to your frozen body, your mind raced and a whirlwind of emotions wreaked havoc on your being. When you came to terms with the fact that you hadn’t known your father’s cause of death, a strangled cry escaped your mouth and you darted out of the room.

The urge to leave and never return overcame all logic but, before you could make it out the door, a pair of large warm hands clasped your shoulders, gently stopping you dead in your tracks. The faint smell of cologne and musk hit you and you knew it was Issei before you looked up.

Warmth radiated from every part of his body and all you wanted was to bury yourself into him and hide from the world. His eyes widened slightly before he looked around and guided you away into a small room away from the guests. There was a sofa that he led you too and sat down next to you. Suddenly, Issei’s hands were on your cheeks wiping away tears you didn’t know where there.

“God…I’m a fucking mess.” You cursed and buried your face into your hands.

“Funerals are…difficult,” Issei offered. “Trust me, I work here.”

“I didn’t know,” you muttered raising your head. “I didn’t even know how my father died. I never asked my mother and she never told me. She just told me he died and I took a train here without thinking.”

“Everyone processes death differently, Y/N.”

“Fuck, Issei—I’m his only daughter for crying out loud!” Your voice broke as a fresh set of tears threatened to spill. “We’ve never had a stable relationship…but still, what kind of a daughter doesn’t know the cause of death of her own father? I just feel like I’m suffocating and I-I…”

Sobs tore out of your chest inhibiting you from speaking and Issei didn’t hesitate to envelop you in his strong arms that rocked you while he whispered calming reassurances in your ear.

“Shhh…it’s okay.”

“Everything will be fine.”

“This will pass.”

Your cries eventually ceased but neither of you let go. It felt easy to cling onto Issei while he held you just as tightly. The return of your wits, however, brought you back to reality and you let him go knowing it wasn’t right to cling onto anyone’s boyfriend—even if he’d been your friend before he’d been your boyfriend.

“Thank you, Issei. I should really head back now.”

Issei’s grip loosened slowly until he faced you with his thick brows knitted with concern. You smiled hoping it was convincing enough to reassure him before the two of you stood up and left the room. Near the entrance of the hall stood your mother angrily pacing back and forth until she saw you and Issei and opened her mouth to speak but stopped. You decided to speak first before she misunderstood the situation.

“I needed some space to calm down and Issei helped me find a place.”

Her piercing eyes took you in and lingered on your eyes; they were no doubt red and puffy from crying. The anger seemed to dissipate and her shoulder’s relaxed before she finally addressed you.

“It’s time for your speech. Are you ready?”

Coming from the woman that never asked you anything, her question caught you off guard but stirred something in you. You answered by nodding and followed your mother into the packed hall and up to the front where your father lied in his coffin. You stood to the side while your mother addressed the guests and you looked at your father for the first time in years.

The sight should have made you feel anything but the relief that washed over you. He looked at peace and it reminded you of the rare glimpses you’d caught of him talking with his students, fishing in the small pond of your country home, or drinking sake at night. It was with those memories that you replaced your mother and spoke to the guests.

You were composed for the entire speech despite your distraught state only minutes prior. It felt like a blanket of serenity had wrapped itself over your shoulders and shielded you from any remaining guilt. In the end, you wished your father well not because you forgave him but because you wanted to close that chapter in your book.

The rest of the ceremony was easier to stomach without the turmoil in your head. After the last guest left, you and your mother spoke to Issei and his boss about last minute details for the funeral the next day. Your mother offered a brisk thanks before heading out first and Issei’s boss followed, leaving you and your ex alone. The desire to ask him for his contact info was immense, but your better judgement won and you offered him a quick thanks before following your mother.

Very little words were exchanged with your mother that night and you headed up to bed completely drained from the day’s events. You’d just finished hanging up your mourning clothes when your mother knocked on the door and waited until you let her in—something she never did.

Still in her mourning gown, she held out a letter addressed to you from your father and seeing her up close, you noticed the wet cheeks and puffy red skin around her eyes. In all the years you lived with your mother, you had never seen her cry. Crying out hysterically? Yes. Witnessing actual tears or the evidence of tears on her face, however, not even once. Which was why you stood stunned as your mother placed the letter in your hand before leaving you to your privacy.

You tore open the sealed envelope and opened the letter to see that it was dated one year ago.

{Daughter,

If you are reading this, it is because I am no longer on this earth. As the disease weakens my body, I know that I will never see you again and write this to convey everything that I could not in life. I am well-aware that I lost the right to your forgiveness and I do not wish to receive it. Nothing will ever justify my actions towards you. I failed you as a father and caused you to grow up in a miserable home. I held you to expectations that not even I could achieve and I will regret the pain and suffering I caused you until my last breath.

I remember the day your mother brought you into this world. When I saw your frail little body and held you in my arms for the first time, I was struck with an immeasurable amount of fear. I was terrified of being a father and didn’t want you to suffer the way I did. I wanted to prepare you for the world in the way my parents never did for me. However, in the end, my own selfish desires to re-live my life through you tainted whatever intentions I’d had. I will never forgive myself for the irreparable damage I caused you therefore I ask that you do the same.

I wish to end this message by expressing how proud I am of the strong woman you’ve become. Everything you’ve accomplished is derived of your own merits and in spite of the suffering I caused you. Your mother and I are happy to hear of your successes and wish you happiness in your married life. I know you will live a long and happy life because you are not like me. You’re a fighter. You know what you want and take it without regrets.

With this, I hope that you will continue to grow and forget me as I am undeserving of living in your thoughts.}

What began as tears trailing down your cheeks, ended up as wails mourning your father. The proud man that you knew him to be in life came undone in that short letter and every word pierced your heart. In a manner reminiscent of the past, you disobeyed his requests and genuinely forgave your father while engraving each of his words into your heart.

The urge to see your mother led you to tuck away the letter and open the door only to find her already there. Muffling her sobs with her hands, her whole body shook as she gazed up at you. The fragility of her state stirred your compassion and your arms wrapped around her. Collapsing onto the ground, the two of you clung to each other and truly mourned the death of your father.

You woke up enveloped in motherly warmth like you were an infant again. Her eyes that once scrutinized your every move, were softer now as she talked about your father’s last days over breakfast. The hand that had disciplined you in the past now held yours during the Buddhist priest’s chant at the funeral. The circumstances were wretched but you finally felt at peace with your parents.

The funeral and cremation passed with you and your mother holding each other up. As the two of you jointly picked up the bone fragments with chopsticks and placed them in the urn, you came to terms with the fact that the relationship with your mother would never go back to what it was. A sense of filial duty stirred within you for the first time in a while only it wasn’t out of guilt—this time, you genuinely wanted to take care of your mother.

You found yourself outside of the crematorium waiting for your mother to settle things when Issei walked up to you. He’d been at the funeral ceremony, of course, but the crematorium wasn’t a part of his duties so you were surprised to see him. He still wore his black slacks and matching button down but his tie was nowhere to be seen and he’d undone the top two buttons of his shirt.

He began by inquiring about the cremation to make sure everything had gone well. You assured him everything went well before an awkward silence pervaded the space between. Desperate to fill the void with anything, you asked Issei a question only to find him simultaneously asking you one.

“Talked to Hana—”

“How long are yo—”

Your face flushed and Issei rubbed the back of his head as the two of you apologized for interrupting each other.

“You go first,” Issei gently insisted.

“I was going to ask if you’d talked to Hanamaki lately. I saw that you two went out…” The implication of your words caused you to clamp your mouth shut while your face burned even more.

“You saw…us?” Issei sounded amused and you looked up to find that same smirk from six years ago that produced butterflies in your stomach.

“Er…yeah,” you admitted. “I kinda found Hanamaki’s social media and happened a picture of you two.”

“Oh, that picture. That was the last time I saw him since he lives in Tokyo now. We still text though.”

“So Tokyo, huh? Good for Hanamaki.”

“What about you?” Issei asked, his eyes more intense than before. “Your mother mentioned you live in the city.”

“Uh yeah,” You said fidgeting with the material of your kimono. “I live in Yokohama. Got a job offer after graduation and I’ve been there ever since.”

“…Are you going back now?”

Issei avoided your eyes by looking away—an old habit you instantly recognized. Like the old days, you moved in the direction of his face and stood on your tippy toes with a cheeky grin on your face. Surprise flashed on his eyes before his mouth broke into a fond smile.

“I’m staying for a couple more days.” You replied and the next word flowed out naturally like water in a stream. “Why?”

“I wanted to catch up with you.” He admitted before his expression sobered. “Only if you’re up for it though. I don’t want you to feel like—”

“I’d love to catch up!”

And with that, the two of you exchanged contact information before your mother approached you. As you watched Issei walk away, you mother piped up next to you.

“He’s a good man. I regret not seeing it before.” It wasn’t exactly an apology but the effect was the same to you.

“And I regret letting him go,” you lamented.

“You still have a chance.” She replied and you met her gaze.

“I don’t. He has a girlfriend.”

“Then why did I overhear his boss trying to set him up on a date with his niece?” Your mother countered and then started to walk towards the newly arrived taxi.

“Wait, what?!”

Heeding your mother’s advice, you dressed up for your meeting with Issei. He picked you up and the first thing you noticed was the similar colored clothing the two of you wore. Laughing it off, you got into his car and made small talk about the changes in town while on route to the restaurant.

The conversation gave you the perfect excuse to admire him at ease. Issei had always been handsome but you had to admit that he’d really grown into his looks. Any lingering teenage awkwardness was gone and replaced by an air of confidence that he exuded in his speech, mannerisms, and voice. From his defined jaw to the protruding veins on his exposed forearm, you memorized each detail and replaced the memory you had of college freshman Issei with it.

Issei took you to the same restaurant you spent most of your evenings in during high school waiting tables and chatting with the volleyball team after closing time. Unlike the rest of the town, the tables, chairs, and décor remained the same and you were overcome with emotion the moment you walked in. After chatting with the owner for a bit, Issei led you to the table the boys would always take after practice to wait until you got off work.

“I can’t believe this place remained the same after all these years.” You commented after placing your orders.

“I know,” Issei replied grinning. “I can’t imagine this town without it.”

“Just sitting here brings back so many memories of us…” you trailed off when you noticed Issei’s unwavering gaze on you.

“Ah! And the boys too!” You added letting out a nervous giggle before taking a sip of your beer to cool your heated head. “How are they, by the way? I’ve seen Oikawa’s posts of Argentina but what about Iwaizumi?”

The conversation about the whereabouts of the volleyball team lasted until the food arrived. You asked about his family in between bites and Issei answered each of your questions about his siblings and parents.

After finishing your meal and ordering a second round of drinks the conversation switched over to work with Issei eager to find out what you did.

“Financing! Can you believe it?” You laughed. “Specifically, in the mortgage department.”

“Seriously?” Issei chuckled. “Whatever happened to being a novelist?”

“Life happened.” You answered and raised your glass in a mock toast.

“Ah, trust me. I completely understand.” He clinked his glass against yours and the two of you laughed before taking a sip.

After finishing your second beer, the warmth in your cheeks and your animated speech were all clear signs you were buzzed. It wasn’t until you asked the question on your mind since you’d seen that picture that you realized just how buzzed you actually were.

“So…are you seeing anyone?” Your eyes were lowered, but when Issei didn’t respond you looked up.

Issei’s eyes were darker than they’d been. The intensity of his gaze locked your eyes on his leaving you vulnerable. You were suddenly keenly aware how intensely your heart was beating and wondered if Issei could hear it.

“Why do you ask?”

His strained voice sent chills down your spine making you painfully aware of the building tension in your core. You knew what you wanted and you suspected he wanted the same thing but you needed to confirm your suspicions.

“I saw your social media account and the picture you used. The one where you’re hugging a woman…smiling…”

The more words that spilled out, the more pathetic you sounded and you eventually trailed off while averting your eyes.

“We broke up about a year ago.”

“What?!” The word slipped through your lips when your eyes snapped back to see him sheepishly running a hand through his wavy black locks.

“We wanted different things. I felt like I was holding her back so I let her go.”

“I completely understand,” echoing his words, your hand reached across the table to his. “My engagement got cancelled for similar reasons. He wanted marriage sooner than later and I wasn’t ready.”

The two of you shared a moment when, out of the blue, Issei took ahold of your hand and used his thumb to run slow circles on your palm; a gesture he’d always used to signal he wanted to be alone with you. Your breath hitched and a lazy smirk graced his face as he lifted your wrist and pressed a kiss on your pulse point.

“I-Issei,” you gasped and darted your eyes around the room to ensure no one had seen.

“Let’s get out of here. Come to my place.”

His voice was like honey to your ears and you nodded as the tension that’d been building spread to other parts of your body. With that the bill was settled and Issei drove you to his place while keeping a hand on your inner thigh that would occasionally drift and tease your clit.

By the time the two of you made it inside his home, Issei’s tongue had tasted every part of your mouth while his lips left yours swollen. Flushed and whimpering, Issei planted wet butterfly kisses down your jaw until he reached that spot on your neck that elicited a moan from your parted lips.

Issei groaned before sucking on that spot and you to pulled him closer by tugging on his hair—a move you knew drove him crazy.

“Fuck,” his warm breath fanned on your neck. “Fuck—not here.”

He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You pulled his lips into another wet kiss that had him groaning into your mouth as his erection pressed against your soaked panties. He set you down on his bed and broke the kiss that left the two of you panting.

His hungry gaze traveled all over your body. Your dress was hiked up and he could make out the darkened material of your panties—the proof of your arousal. With a groan his stripped out of his shirt letting you take in his broad chest that you ached to touch. Grinning from your cute reaction he pressed a kiss to your forehead before snaking his arm behind your waist and laying you down on this middle of his bed. You reached for his clothed erection but Issei gripped your hand and placed it over your head.

“Not yet, pretty girl. Let me spoil you today.”

Issei’s skilled hands worked on your dress and slipped it off you followed by your bra and panties. His eyes raked over your body taking in the flushed skin, erect nipples, and trembling legs.

“Beautiful,” he murmured and leaned over to lick and suck on your sensitive peaks. Each flick against a nipple had you gasping. Each bite had you arching your back. The longer he teased, the more desperate your need to be touched and filled became until you took his hand and placed it between your legs.

“T-touch, me Issei, p-please...”

“That’s my needy girl,” he cooed and pressed one last kiss to your chest before settling between your legs and admiring the way your dribbling cunt clenched around nothing. “Such a pretty cunt.”

He flattened his tongue on your throbbing clit sending shocks of pleasure up your body. Issei’s mouth that alternated between sucking and biting down on your clit had you in tears from the immense pleasure and you lost count of how many times you came on his face. When his tongue delved into your aching cunt, you rutted against his face to push his tongue in deeper.

“Nghhh—Isseiiiii! Need y’now, please!”

Issei’s head rose from between you legs and just sight of his face covered in your arousal had your cunt pulsing again.

“What was that baby?” He teased and licked the translucent substance off his lips. His hands began to work on his pants and your eyes greedily took in his tented underwear. “Is this what you want, pretty girl?”

“Y-yes! Need it!”

It’d been so long since you’d been with a guy let alone one of Issei’s size. In fact, you were certain Issei was the biggest you’d ever had. That being said, the sight of his erect cock had you whimpering from both apprehension and desire.

Issei, always so attentive, noticed your reaction and settled himself on top before pressing a sweet kiss on your lips and assuring you he’d be gentle. You nodded before wrapping your arms around his neck while he rubbed his cock between your folds and against your clit in the way he’d always done before filling you.

Once your slick coated his cock, he lined himself at your entrance and slowly sheathed himself into you. The stretch was still painful even with the prep but as soon as he was halfway in, your walls relaxed and pain turned into pleasure. After bottoming out, Issei waited for your cunt to relax around him before he started moving.

With each thrust, Issei hit that spot near your cervix that built up your release time and time again. Every time your walls fluttered and your cum coated his cock, your nails raked over his back and Issei’s groans filled your ears until he too found his release. The two of you were insatiable and continued your lovemaking until the early hours of the morning.

In the end, you stayed the night and woke up mid-day with your head against Issei’s chest and his arms wrapped around you. Listening to his steady heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of his chest convinced you of the thought you’d mulled over since your father’s funeral.

You wouldn’t return to Yokohama.

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gay-otlc · 2 years

Note

Hey hey hey I just accidentally found (some of?) your Jewish keeper crew posts and may I humbly request more?? Whether it's more Jewish Vackers/Dizznees hcs, or for more characters, I just would like this very much please if you are so inclined

Also maybe Jewish TOH hcs if you have any? 🥺

They're all linked *gestures vaguely* somewhere in my pinned post

Anyway. You may request more I would love to scream about my Jewish blorbos.

They're all Jewish. Even if they started out goyim I hit them with my laser (of the Jewish space edition) and converted them. You're welcome, world.

In a weird sequence of shenanigans, Forkle ended up the rabbi at Sophie's human synagogue. I'm not sure if this is universal but in my experience there's always That One Rabbi who will go ON and ON and ON with their speeches and is chronically incapable of shutting up. That's Forkle.

Sophie didn't get to have her Bat Mitzvah since about a month before his some teal-eyed Dobby brought them to the Lost Cities, and then all the Neverseen shit went down, but after that all ended she decided he wanted to have one. Forkle helped tutor them.

Her D'var Torah? Long. Very long. Fork Man is proud of him.

He/she/they Sophie rights, by the way. If anyone at their synagogue is transphobic they will slam that bitch with a history of gender fuckery in Judaism and then punch that bitch. Beautiful.

When Sophie arrived at the Lost Cities, some certain elves (cough Alden cough) acted like elvin society was Too Cool for religion so she didn't really tell anyone he was Jewish.

Except Grady and Edaline are also Jewish, and they didn't tell Sophie because they didn't know shit about how religion worked for humans and didn't want to make them feel more out of place.

Eventually Sophie noticed Grady and Edaline lighting yahrtzeit for Jolie (fuck off I'm not crying you're crying) and connected the dots.

You know that prayer where it's like the adults blessing the children? Where they put their hands on the kid's head? Yeah. Grady and Edaline really missed saying that blessing for Jolie and may or may not have cried the first time they said it for Sophie.

All the bitches in the series who Adopt Every Traumatized Queer Child To Exist are absolutely devastated that they don't have enough hands for all their kids.

Am I saying that Tiergan and Elwin deserve to be squids? I'm not not saying that. All the cool gays are squids am I right?

If you thought Black Swan game night was intense, just wait until they play dreidel. It's.... an experience.

Livvy is determined to learn how to spin a dreidel upside down.

Livvy is not successful at learning how to spin a dreidel upside down.

Kenric always used to love tu b'shevat.

(Me? Using the same fucking joke for the 18th time? It's more likely than you think.)

Since religion is Looked Down Upon in the lost cities, Alden said Della could raise the kids Jewish but they couldn't tell anyone.

Which had the result of Biana and Fitz falling """mysteriously ill"""" every September/October-ish

And some internalized antisemitism but we don't have time to unpack all that!

When Keefe found out the Vackers were Jewish they just *pointing spiderman meme*

Keefe converted after being adopted by Elwin

Elwin didn't force anything onto him, but he just absolutely fell in love with all the holidays and services and tradition. The food didn't hurt.

Bronte is Grumpy Old Jewish Man. This is a hill I'm willing to die on.

Major antisemtism TW for the next one you might want to skip it

Just remembered this scene in Neverseen where they're in the Ponte Vecchio and Sophie realizes that Hilter probably stood where they are, and absolutely needs to get away. So him being Jewish would add another really fascinating layer to that.

#you can maybe expect jewish toh on my owl bitch blog #kotlc is jewish now #oh man i missed this #they're all jews your honor #religion tw

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rons-hermiones · 3 years

Text

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Four

Not even realizing it, Ron had wallowed in self pity and hatred the rest of the ride. Eventually, the train came to a halt as he hurried to leave Lavender’s compartment, not being able to stomach another talk with her.

Scrambling, he walks down the corridor against the mass of students and eventually retrieves his trunk, stepping from the platform later then most.

The mass of redheads is easy to spot despite the crowd.

His Mum is embracing Ginny as he sees Harry shaking his Dad’s hand. Fred and George have also come, he watches as they step forward and tenderly embrace Hermione. The act is out of character for the pair, but he figured that this gesture coincided with the McLaggen stint.

The three begin talking in what seems like hushed whispers, no doubt about what transpired, well that is until Ron gathered the courage to join his family.

As his mother called his name and embraced him, Hermione went silent. Slowly, she slinked back, away from the twins, away from the Weasley’s.

She was never supposed to even be here. Hermione had told herself that she needed to separate herself from them in order to ensure Ron had the holiday he deserved without her bothering him.

Ron seemed to notice this, heart breaking a little. He wanted nothing more than to hug her himself and assure that he wanted her here, that he was so happy she was.

He couldn’t though, not yet anyway, not when he was still reeling from his half breakup with Lavender not long ago.

Instead, he grabbed onto the Port Key his father got from work, jolting slightly as Hermione’s fingertips gently brushed his as she grasped the old scarf they were using.

Once the dizziness had subsided and they landed on the grass in Ottery St. Catchpole, he was disappointed to see Hermione already retrieving into the Burrow, ahead of everyone else. Alone.

He can’t help but groan aloud.

“Did you do it?” Harry asks as he offers a hand and helps Ron from the ground.

In response all the youngest Weasley brother can manage is a groan.

“Sort of.” Ron whispers slightly embarrassed.

“Sort of?” Harry questions rather loudly, warranting a glance from Ginny who is only a few paces ahead.

“Shush,” The ginger starts, “and I mean the words ‘I’m breaking up with you’, certainly left my mouth. More than once. In a variety of ways.” He explained, his anger bubbling back up at the recollection.

“Alright so you did it?” The Boy-Who-Lived asked, confusion evident in his tone.

“Yeah I told her that and she definitely heard but all she said was no,” at this point he’s stopped walking, “that’s completely mental! I told the girl it was done with and she said no!” He was yelling now.

At this point, Ginny had come to a full stop, the twins were lingering by the front door, and Hermione had thankfully disappeared inside along with his parents. Harry was faced with horror stricken on his features.

“You keep it down!” The dark haired boy staged whispered.

Ron twinged as red as his hair, “sorry,” he said lamely, “she even started on Hermione. By that time I had already told her it was done twice, maybe three times.”

A low whistle escaped the chosen ones lips, “so let me get this straight, you broke up with Lavender at least three times, and all she said was no?” This sounded like something out of a Muggle film.

He nodded, a sour look on his face, “And after all this, she kissed me on the cheek, called me ‘sweetheart’, and wished me a Happy Christmas!” He recapped sounding beside himself.

“You’re right,” Harry said after a moment, “that is mental.”

At this the pair started trudging along the grass again, taking it slow as they wanted to finish the conversation away from prying ears.

“Good news is you did break up with her.” The green eyed boy tried optimistically, a rare thing from him these days.

Harry was really trying to be a better friend.

“Bad news is I don’t think Lavender broke up with me.” He notes.

The pair seemingly sigh in unison, both frustrated, one more so then the other.

“So what? I just tell Hermione I’ve broken it off with Lavender? I’m sure by now she’s owled all of England that we’re still together.”

Potter contemplates the situation for a moment before answering, “well you can tell Hermione you’ve told Lavender you’re done but she didn’t seem to accept the fact. Even though that may be the case, when we head back you’ll be implementing this break up full force. Avoiding Lavender even more than before, as if we thought that was possible!” He tries to joke.

Surprisingly a small laugh sounds it’s way past Ron’s lips, “I suppose.” By this point they’ve reached the front door, “it’s kind of mad to be thinking about all this with everything going on isn’t it?” He thinks aloud.

Harry shrugs, “I know your life may feel like a bad soap opera but it’s quite nice for me to focus on something else for a bit. Especially if it helps you and Hermione out.” He pushes open the door and finally steps inside.

“A soap what?”

...

Hermione really wished there was a spare room in the Weasley home. Not that she’d ever ask for it, being she would never want to upset Ginny. But an escape would be nice.

Surely Ginny will try and get her to talk about everything that’s transpired lately, especially with the red heads new found confidence her brother wants to try and patch things up.

It didn’t matter though, Charlie and Bill were returning for holiday for the first time in years apparently so there was no available room to escape to. And being Fleur was joining as well, Percy’s room was off the table.

Hermione supposes she’ll just have keep Ginny at bay as long as possible. Which should be easy enough considering all the action within the Weasley household.

Even now, unpacking her trunk a floor above them, she could hear the hustle and bustle of the Burrow.

The twins were no doubt sounding off somewhere. Ginny was probably yelling at them to keep it down. It’s very likely Mrs. Weasley was cleaning the house to prepare for Charlie and Bill’s arrival. Mr. Weasley was somewhere consoling said stressed out wife, resulting in more screams. And as previously mentioned, the twins were probably sounding off to Harry and Ron.

And right now as she considers all this play out, she can’t help but feel a little empty.

For the first time since she’s been a guest at the Burrow, does she feel like a true guest. Hermione doesn’t feel like she’s at home. Not like she normally does.

She knows exactly why too.

After the run in with Lavender and Ron this morning, she decided she’d back off. Ron was probably better off without her constant nagging and knowledge of useless facts. Hermione would do her best to stay out of his way, starting with holiday. She’d hate for him to feel uncomfortable in his own house of all places. And after, she supposes she’ll do the same at Hogwarts. For him.

It’s kind of twisted isn’t it? Even after all the times she’s felt hurt by Ron, she still cares about him more than anything else.

Even now, she can still feel her heart clenching, breaking, as he agreed to the terms earlier in the compartment. The feeling alone may kill her, yet, here she is, willing to make that sacrifice for him. For his happiness.

All this coupled with the pain of her grandmother's condition has been borderline unbearable. She wishes she still had Ron to help her through this. She needs his strength.

Too bad she’s ruined that.

As much as she’s yearning to blame Ron for their divide she knows it’s entirely her fault. Because despite being the brightest witch of her age, she is surely stupid for thinking he could ever love her back. To even think he thought of her like that in the slightest.

Asking him to Slughorn’s, it had taken everything for her to do. To him it meant nothing.

And if the past few months have taught her anything, it’s probably that Ron just stuck around for Harry and as an extension, Hermione. All the taunts and jabs Lavender was constantly throwing her way must be true in Ron’s eyes, she isn’t exactly shy about the whole thing.

And part of her brain convinces herself that Ron thinks she’s an insufferable, ugly, no good know it all. But part of her knows that isn’t true.

Ron, who saved her from that troll her first year.

Ron, whose voice rang in her head every night while she was laying petrified.

Ron, who defended her mercilessly during their confrontation with Peter Pettigrew, despite having a torn up leg.

Ron, who comforted her to no end when the nerves struck before the second task.

Ron, who gently would rub dittany on the backs of her hands after detentions with Umbridge.

Harry hadn’t been there for any of that. Surely that must mean something.

And deep down she knows it does, but whenever the rational part of her brain pushes that forward, images of him wrapped around Lavender flicker in her head. These thoughts quickly bring back unwelcome ones of the possibility of Ron loathing her.

She really wishes things were simple. Harry spent summers and holidays with Sirius at Grimmauld place. That Neville could talk to his parents and they’d recognize him. That Ginny would stop tossing and turning, mumbling things about a diary in her sleep. That she didn’t fear for her parents lives everyday. That her grandma would be magically healed and she’d take Ron and Harry up to France one summer to meet her.

She wishes that Ron was her friend again. If not more.

But that’s the problem, these are all just wishes. Figments of her imagination, something her heart longs for. Something that’ll never come true.

And just like that, her thoughts are becoming too much. She’s supposes it’s a bit of a curse to always have your mind working this way.

Tears begin stinging the backs of her eyes and Hermione wants nothing more to immerse herself within a book. To forget for a little while. Maybe even let her mind wander to a brighter future.

But instead, she makes use of her whizzing brain by beginning to unpack her trunk. First she checks for the black book, that’s now a lifeline to her. Once she spots it, she relaxes a little and silently begins preparing a letter to her parents in her head.

Surely that letter would evoke more unwelcome emotions.

Happy holidays to her.

...

So far life at the Burrow has been rather uneventful. Sure, they only arrived here three hours ago, but deep down everyone had this silly little notion that upon their return everything would change.

Of course it didn’t.

The twins were still taking the mickey out of Ron and Harry. Ginny still yelled when their fighting reached her in the living room. Molly still fussed over preparing the house for her eldest sons as her husband tried to calm her.

In a way it was nice though, that things were the same. Sure, everyone wishes they could be better

There was one notable difference.

Normally, Hermione could be found sniggering behind Fred and George or defending Ron and Harry from their taunts. If not, she was curled up on the sofa with Ginny as she complained over her Quidditch magazine. Oftentimes, the witch was offering Mrs. Weasley assistance with household chores or was explaining a Muggle appliance to Arthur.

Instead, she was just gone.

And no one noticed her absence more than Ron.

“Ginny, be a dear and fetch Hermione for supper would you?” Molly’s voice didn’t leave much room for argument.

Ron peered up from where he had been setting down the utensils to see his sister rush up the steps leaving a flash of red.

Upstairs, Ginny tapped on the door lightly, waiting a moment before pushing it open. There, she found Hermione slumped over the youngest Weasley’s desk, writing mercilessly on some parchment. She was honestly shocked to find her nose not in that odd, coverless book.

“Hermione.” She called out, the brunette hadn’t noticed her presence.

Startled, Hermione jumped a bit before relaxing at the sight, “yes?” Her voice cracked.

“It’s time to eat.” Ginny told her.

“Gin,” The bushy haired girl sighed, “I hate to be rude, but could you tell your mother I won’t be joining you guys tonight.”

The ginger shook her head, “Hermione if this is about,”

Granger wouldn’t let the name pass her friends lips, “it’s not about him.” Not a total lie. “I just want to get this owl out to my parents as soon as I can. I have some questions about...” she trailed feeling the tears prick her eyes. Clearing her throat she went on, “anyway, I ate on the train. I promise once I’m finished here I’ll explain everything to your Mum.”

Ginny began to open her mouth questioning the use of the word ‘everything’. Hermione, being brilliant, seemed to sense where this was going and bear her to it.

“Everything about my Grandma.” She amended.

Noticing the sad look in the sixth tears eyes, Ginny conceded, “alright but I’m saving you a plate and you best eat it later!” She scolded, sounding just like Molly.

At this, Hermione was able to muster a true genuine giggle, “thank you Ginny.” She called as the girl vacated the room.

The last thing Ginny heard Hermione say was a quick ‘thank you’ before she descended back downstairs.

As she re entered the kitchen she noted everyone seated already, waiting for her. For them.

Molly however, was standing, hands on her hips and stern look on her face.

“Now Ginny I asked you to fetch Hermione.” She scolded with a wag of her finger.

Sighing, the girl plopped down, “she isn’t hungry.”

All the younger Weasley and Harry, had exchanged knowing glances. Ron however, decided to bow his head, focus his eyes on the floor boards.

“Non sense!” Her mother started.

“Mum honest, I told her we’d save her plate.” She pauses as her mother frowns, “look Hermione’s got a lot going on right now.”

Concern struck over Molly instantly, “oh Merlin! Is she okay? Are her parents alright?” Then she swiftly turned to the twins, “have you two done something to her?” The older woman asked sharply.

“We didn’t do anything mother.” Fred starts.

“Yeah it wasn’t us who did something.” George says next, emphasis on the statement as he looks to Ron.

“Not us!” They sound off in unison.

Noticing Ron’s fist clenching beneath the table Ginny jumps in, “it’s nothing like that, it hasn’t got to do with the Burrow.” Her eyes found Ron’s as if to tell him that Hermione wouldn’t spill to their mother about Lavender Brown, “Hermione and her parents are alright. It’s best if she explains.”

Molly opens her mouth to protest before Arthur cuts her off, “it’s okay Molly, the girls fine, remember? We saw her hours ago. Come on let’s eat.” He reasons.

Nodding to herself Mrs.Weasley finally calms down as they start their meal.

And dinner was going fine. Ron had done little talking, thankful that Harry was the one recapping the Quidditch season thus far.

Again, everything was fine. Until Arthur asked his twin boys about their business.

“So boys how are things down in the alley?” The older man asking, earning a scowl from is disapproving wife.

“Wicked dad.” George says.

Placing his fork down Fred jumps in, “absolutely wicked. Witch weekly wants to do an article on our love potions, it’ll be great for business.”

Shockingly, a proud smile crosses Molly’s lips.

“Yeah we’re thinking of making scented ones, something girls will like. What do girls like?” George wonders, sarcasm underlying his words.

“Yeah Ronnie, what do girls like?” Fred repeats facing his younger brother.

Mrs. Weasley not understanding, interjects, “flowers.”

At this Ron grips his knuckles on the table. His brothers are smiling like it’s Christmas morning. His mother just unknowingly set her troublemaker sons up for a joke to make Ron twitch.

“Hear that Freddie? Flowers.” George grins like the Cheshire Cat.

“It’s perfect. I wonder which ones though, there are roses.” Fred responds

“And daisy’s.”

“Orchids.”

“Jasmine.”

The pair switch off before Fred’s eyes light up, “wait I got it, how about...”

“Lavender!” The two exclaim in sync.

Ginny does her best to surprise a chuckle. Harry looks like he wants the floor to eat him. Ron is about to punch something.

“Yeah how about it Ronnie, Lavender. You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” George says leaning in closer to his baby brother.

A look of anger passes Ron’s face, his Mum surveys the scene with a curious expression, “what would Ronnie know about Lavender?” Molly questions.

“Oh mother!” George says scandalized.

“Ickle Ronniekins didn’t tell you?” Fred asks, already knowing the answer.

She shakes her head, “on with it.”

“Your baby boy has a girlfriend.” George announces, loving the luck of disdain across his youngest brother's face.

“Ronald Weasley!” His mother says standing from her chair and wagging her finger at him.

Merlin he wishes You-Know-Who would kill him right now.

“I don’t have a girlfriend Mum.” He defends gruffly.

“You don’t?” Ginny says with slanted eyes.

“Not anymore.” Harry mumbles loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Not anymore?” Molly starts, “and you knew and didn’t tell me Ginny! You boys knew too!” She points to the twins.

In defense the pair throws up their hands as the red headed girl starts to explain, “it wasn’t really my place to tell. Anyway Mum, it’s not like we were the only ones. Bill knew too.”

Angrily, Ron stomps on his sister's foot.

“You told Bill and not your own mother!” She screams, ignoring the yelp that left Ginny’s mouth.

“Molly...” Arthur warns, trying to tug gently at her sleeve.

She rips her hand away and places both on her hips, “I am very disappointed in you Ronald! All of you actually.” The woman huffs.

Ron squirms, “it doesn’t matter. She’s not my girlfriend anymore.”

“Well...” Harry can’t help but say.

All eyes land on him. He thinks Ron may strangle him.

“‘Well’ what Harry Potter?” Ginny asks, tone matching her mother’s.

Now it’s the chosen ones' turn to squirm, “well,” he repeated, “I don’t think it’s my place to say.”

At this, all eyes fall back onto Ron. Sighing in defeat, “well you see, the thing is, Lavender is,”

“Annoying.” Ginny finishes.

“Loud.” Harry cringes.

“Pathetic?” George tries

“Desperate.” Fred corrects.

And to Arthur and Molly’s surprise, their youngest son nods in agreement, making no move to defend this girl.

At this, the couple exchange a look. If the twins so much as look at a certain bushy haired witch the wrong way, Ron is up in arms, ready to curse anyone who crosses her.

“Alright,” Ron says, stopping whatever they were going to say, “let’s just say I chucked her.”

“That can’t be true! I heard her telling Parvati about how she won’t survive a month without snogging you when we got onto the platform.” Ginny calls out.

Her brother groans, “Lavender is not my girlfriend anymore, but I might still be her boyfriend.” He explains.

There’s a silence.

“I don’t know what you mean son.” His dad finally speaks.

“What I mean is that when I broke up with her she just said no.” He admits exasperated, pushing back his chair and digging the heels of his palms into his eyes.

One of the twins lets out a low whistle. As the room enters a tense silence until Molly breaks it.

“Ronald,” she sounds disappointed, “this Lavender wouldn’t have anything to do with why Hermione didn’t join us at dinner would it?” Her voice is growing louder.

And there it is.

Of course his mother would know.

He had been painfully obvious over the years.

Ron told himself when she didn’t come down that it was because she was probably writing her parents. But, he also knows, Hermione is capable of constructing a letter in minutes.

“Why would you think that?” He chokes out sounding pathetic.

The twins and Ginny laugh at this.

“Ronald Weasley I am very disappointed in you. Look at the mess you’ve made! Your father and I raised you better than to go around treating women this way!” She screams.

Losing it, Ron stands up angrily matching his mother’s tone, “why are you assuming any of this has got to do with Hermione?” He screams.

In all the ruckus, he failed to notice the new presence in the doorway.

“Hermione.” Ginny says loudly, rather soft.

Annoyed, he turns to his sister, “Ginny I’ve just said,” before he can finish, Harry is pulling on his shirt and bucking his head to the doorway.

As all eyes fall on her, she shrinks away, looking almost to tears, “I can come back, I just wanted to talk to...” she doesn’t get the words out, lamely she points to Mrs. Weasley.

And just like that, any anger washes off the older woman’s face, “of course dear,” she steps over and places a hand on her shoulder, “why don’t you wait for me in the living room while I clean this up.”

Hermione nods vaguely in response before sauntering out of the room.

“Way to go Ronnie.” George whispers.

And just like that, Molly is seeing red again, “all four of you, dishes.” She says to her kids.

The twins are ready to complain when they realize they can just do magic.

“And no magic!” She berates.

“What did we do?” Ginny retorts, “you’re mad at Ron remember?” She reminds.

“You three didn’t bother to tell your mother anything!” She stops, “and you.” She turns to Harry.

“Me?” He asks, scared.

“Yes you, Harry Potter. You are to stay and make sure not one wand is flicked or else all five of you will be working in the gardens until all the gnomes are gone.”

“But Mum it’s freezing.” Ron groans.

“Well then you better do as I say, and being that I have no more house duties for tonight, I’m off to talk to Hermione. Goodbye.” At this she stomps away.

Sympathetically, Arthur pats his youngest son's shoulder before walking off to his shed.

A tense silence falls over the group as each of the Weasley’s exchange glares.

“Well time for dishes!” Harry tries to break the tension.

Scowling, they all work in silence.

#ron x hermione #ron weasley #rons-hermiones come find me #ron and hermione #hermione granger #romione fanfic #romione #hp #sixth year

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