#these people are so content to use these programs without ever trying to understand how they work and how to make it more efficient

[fishing-lesbian-catgirl]

It’s funny that a bunch of my coworkers older than me don’t know how to do basic stuff on computers and I also know my future coworkers younger than me (hell, even half my classmates in college) who were raised on phone apps won’t know how to do basic stuff on computers. So somehow me having the understanding of file trees, where our cloud saves are located, basic functions of Microsoft office programs, how to change settings, basic troubleshooting, and the ability to look things up if I don’t know how to do them apparently puts me above most people in my workplace when it comes to technology. And by “funny” I meant very frustrating

[yearofthesnape]

Chapters 31-33: Lavender Brown, Severus Snape, and the Fangs of Fate

After the summer holidays, Lavender begins a new year at Hogwarts, with Snape as D.A.D.A. teacher. You can read this on AO3 or FF.net, or below the cut.

Story begins (ch 1-3)

Previous (ch 28-30)

Next (ch 34-36)

Chapter 31: A Melancholy Summer

After getting back to Kennicombe Inn, Lavender walked into town as soon as she could and visited the hospital. “Excuse me,” she said to the woman at the front desk, “is there any way I could learn how to do an IV?”

“We do appreciate your enthusiasm,” said the woman, smiling indulgently at Lavender. “How old are you now, dear?”

“Sixteen and two months,” said Lavender, trying to look extremely grown-up.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until you’re a bit older and pursuing medical studies to do that sort of thing. We do have a youth volunteering program, though — how would you like to help make over the hospital garden?”

“I’ll, er, think about it,” said Lavender, politely and insincerely.

Rather diffidently, Lavender then went to the library to see if she could learn how to do it from a book instead. After squinting at the diagrams and reading all the warnings that said “This should only be attempted by a trained professional,” Lavender decided this wasn’t going to work. Furthermore, it seemed that IVs required a lot of equipment that had to be kept strictly clean and would be quite difficult to carry in one’s robe pockets.

If I can’t bring an IV to Snape, maybe I could bring Snape to an IV, Lavender thought. But how? She couldn’t very well set up a Portkey for the time when Harry shouted for Hagrid, and there was no guarantee that the strange room from the dream was on the Floo Network. Broomsticks and other flying methods might take too long, and Lavender was smaller than Snape; she didn’t think she could keep him from falling off in midair, if he was unconscious. Side-Along Apparition, Lavender supposed, would be the best bet; if only Snape could stay unbitten until she learned how to Apparate that year…

The other problem was, who could she get to give Snape the sort of IV he would need? Lavender could just imagine the look on any Muggle doctor’s face if she walked up and demanded Snape be given a strange blue potion. No, there was only one thing for it: She was going to have to get Healer Pye to talk to a real Muggle doctor. He was never going to do it on his own, Lavender knew; for all his interest in all things Muggle, the thought of consulting one himself seemed never to have crossed his mind. Perhaps he was afraid of breaching the Statute of Secrecy.

There was, however, one group of Muggles that Lavender was vividly aware that wizards could talk to without any Obliviating necessary: Hogwarts families. Lavender’s mother, of course, did not know anything about IVs, but Lavender was sure there had to be someone at Hogwarts who was related to a Muggle in medicine; come to think of it, wasn’t Dean’s mother a nurse?

It took several weeks to try to set up a way for Healer Pye to learn IVs, in which Lavender used part of a reply to Seamus to ask for Dean’s address, wrote Dean’s mother through Muggle post to explain the situation, and inconvenienced Parvati’s owl with an extra letter to forward to Healer Pye. The once-a-week owl post rule, combined with not having an owl of her own, was a great deal of bother.

In the end, though, an ecstatic letter from Healer Pye gave Lavender to understand that he was pursuing a flourishing collaboration with actual Muggle medicine. The letter from Dean’s mother was more measured, but she did sound slightly less appalled at the state of medicine in the Wizarding world, so Lavender supposed she would have to be content with this.

Meanwhile, the summer holidays were proving to be the most dismal time Lavender had ever spent at Kennicombe Inn. The weather was depressingly bad; a chilly mist hung over everything. Though the inn was twice as busy as usual with people desperate to cheer themselves up by going on holiday, the crowds were also extremely ill-tempered and found fault with everything. There was also a small contingent of starry-eyed tourists who kept exclaiming that they hadn’t realized the London fog was so thick! It persisted so far away from the city! In the middle of the summer!

By the end of each day, Lavender’s customer-service smile was entirely exhausted. She went to hide with the rabbits, but trails of small children followed her, longing to have a turn petting Muffy or Sir Hopsalot.

The adults spent their time deploring one catastrophe after another — the hurricane in the West Country, the collapse of the Brockdale Bridge, the insanity of junior minister Herbert Chorley, the murders of Emmeline Vance and Amelia Bones. Lavender, horrified, recognized the last name “Bones” — poor Susan from Herbology, had this been one of her relatives?

Seamus, who could usually be counted on to write once the first week of summer and then forget afterwards, had suddenly become a reliable correspondent. Lavender reckoned he was writing letters in duplicate, to keep both her and Dean informed of the Wizarding news now that it had become too alarming to wait for the Hogwarts Express. His writing was still as terse as ever; his first letter ran:

Lavender, Latest news from the Prophet — dementors deserted Azkaban and they work for You-Know-Who now. Hope you’re well. Seamus

His other letters were all in the same style. Parvati’s, while more chatty, were not much more cheerful:

Dear Lavender, Bad news, but we all saw it coming — no Maharashtra trip for us. I was so looking forward to telling you about it! Mum and Dad have taken to making long lists of every possible thing that could go wrong with our going back to Hogwarts. Padma makes lists for why it’s safe enough anyway, but of course the Prophet hasn’t dug up what the “defensive spells and charms” at Hogwarts are going to be, and Mum says she doesn’t trust the Aurors a whit since they didn’t manage to find so much as a Death Eater’s hair before now.  Speaking of defense, who do you think our new D.A.D.A. teacher’s going to be? Dad thinks it’s ten to one it’ll be a hidden Death Eater, but I think we can’t get worse than Umbridge, anyway. Not worse than her fashion sense, at least — do you remember that dreadful cardigan? Ugh! I hope I’ll get to see you September first. The only thing Padma and I have got going for us is that Mum and Dad both work, so they can’t very well teach us at home. But Mum’s taken a leave of absence, so that might be out the window, too. Write back soon — it’ll take a while for letters to get past the defensive spells we’ve got at home now. Did you get the pamphlet from the Ministry? I hope the inn’s all right! Love, Parvati

Lavender had, in fact, gotten the Ministry pamphlet, with all of its advice for “protecting your home and family against Dark forces.” The first two items, which cautioned readers not to leave the house alone or at night, were almost the only ones remotely helpful to Lavender’s situation. Most of the pamphlet consisted in descriptions of security measures which would require magic. There were no mentions of what to do as an underage witch surrounded by Muggles. All the instructions for contacting the Ministry were for reporting disasters after the fact, not for getting the Ministry’s help in preventing them.

In mid-July, a tawny owl flew to Kennicombe Inn with a large square envelope. Lavender was out at the horse pasture, shoveling manure, a job she usually hated but which now provided a welcome excuse to be alone. She didn’t notice the owl sitting on the fence until it impatiently flew over and pecked her.

“Augh! Get away — oh, what’s this?”

Lavender dropped the shovel and started trying to untie the envelope with clumsy haste. When it came undone, she skimmed its contents, heart beating fast.

P’s in History of Magic and Astronomy, but she’d known those had gone badly… There was the promised O in Divination, and she’d made E’s in Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Transfiguration, and even Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts! Lavender had to check these last two marks twice to believe they were right; she’d been so sure, after the boggart disaster, that there was no way she’d get an E in Defense, and the successful Charms exam felt like a memory she’d made up.

The only real disappointment was Potions. Lavender looked sadly at the small black A next to the subject. She knew it was a wonder she’d scraped a pass at all, even if it was the lowest possible pass, after the cauldron had exploded. Still, Professor McGonagall had said Professor Snape only took O’s for N.E.W.T. classes… Lavender had hoped so earnestly that Hogwarts would somehow intervene, would stop her from suffering the consequences of something that wasn’t her fault…

Tears had started trickling down Lavender’s face, hot at first, turning cold in the damp air. She swiped at them with one sleeve.

Chapter 32: A Lack of Yellow Carnations

Because of the bustle of the summer season, Lavender always had to buy her books on the morning that the Hogwarts Express departed. Usually, this meant that Diagon Alley was packed with other last-minute shoppers, but this year, the crowds had lessened significantly.

“Meet you at Fortescue’s?” asked Lavender’s mother. “Oh — oh dear — ” She had just caught sight of the ice cream parlor’s boarded-up windows.

“I think maybe I’d better stay with you this time,” said Lavender.

It proved fortunate that Lavender had decided this. Gringotts was nearly unwilling to change Muggle money at all, and it would have been impossible for an unaccompanied Muggle to do so. It took Lavender and her mother so long to talk the goblins around that Lavender was forced to do all her shopping at a frenetic sprint, without time to chat to Madam Malkin or window-shop at the new store the Weasley twins had started up.

The goblins had not been forthcoming in the amount of Muggle money changed, either. Lavender quickly saw she was going to have to get second-hand books this time. Even with this, however, there was not quite enough to cover new dress robes; Lavender supposed she would have to hope there weren’t going to be any fancy events to warrant dressing up. Her current dress robes were still left over from the Yule Ball two years ago, and they no longer fit her.

Lavender permitted herself only one small indulgence: a copy of Advanced Potion-Making, the book she would have used for Potions if she had gotten into the class. She hadn’t planned on it, but when she saw it in the shop, almost new and at a fraction of the price, a wild feeling came upon her. For a fleeting instant, she saw herself convincing Snape to join his class regardless. Even in her imagination, this seemed very improbable, but surely getting the book wouldn’t hurt… 

They had to run to catch the Hogwarts Express. Once on the train, Lavender found her friends’ compartment was more crowded than usual; it seemed Dean had gotten Ginny to join them, and along with Seamus, Parvati, and Padma, Zacharias Smith from the D.A. had barged in. Lavender hardly noticed this, however, in her joy at seeing the Patils.

“Parvati! Padma! I was so afraid you weren’t going to be here!”

“We only just managed it,” Parvati said. “Mum’s work decided at the last moment that they couldn’t spare her any longer.”

“Oh, I’m so glad,” Lavender sighed. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“I hear I’ve got you to thank for why Mum’s gone mad about Wizarding medicine,” Dean said to Lavender.

“Oh no, I’m sorry! Has it been really bad?”

“Nah, just teasing.”

Lavender laughed uncomfortably and turned to Seamus. “How was your summer? Outside of everything in the Prophet, I mean.”

Seamus shrugged. “Fergus spent the whole time Apparating at me. Not much else happened. How were the O.W.L.s?”

Lavender started to tell Seamus how the O.W.L.s had gone, but Ginny suddenly said in a loud voice, “I’m warning you — stop asking me about it!”

“But you were one of the only ones who were there,” said Zacharias Smith disdainfully, “the least you can do is go through this list of questions I’ve got. Number one: was there actually a prophecy that says Harry Potter is the Chosen One?”

Everyone else watched Ginny closely. The account Ron had given them all in June, while as thorough as one could wish when it came to combat details, had neglected to mention anything about a prophecy beyond saying that the battle had started in the hall where prophecies were kept. Seamus had once asked him, “But why use the Hall of Prophecy for an ambush?”, to which Ron had replied, “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” Knowing Harry Potter, Lavender thought, if there was such a prophecy, he had probably sworn his friends to secrecy about it.

“This is your last warning,” said Ginny coldly.

“Number two,” Zacharias continued, unheeding, “what really happened to your brother’s arms? I heard Ron say in June that a brain got him, but I don’t believe him at — ”

Ginny muttered something, and something slimy shot out of Zacharias’s nose, getting larger and growing wings. Another one joined it, and then another, until there was a small cloud of bat-like objects, all attacking Zacharias. “AAARRRGHH!” he howled. Ginny put her wand away, looking pleased with herself.

The compartment door opened. “Finite Incantatem,” said a voice, and the flapping things stopped attacking. Everyone stared. There in the doorway stood a portly bald wizard with a large silver mustache. He was rubbing his hands in apparent delight. “I was just passing by when I saw the most beautiful Bat-Bogey Hex,” he said. “May I ask whose it was?”

“Mine,” said Ginny, half wary, half defiant.

“Brava, m’dear, brava! Allow me to introduce myself. I am Professor Horace Slughorn, and you simply must join me for a bite of lunch. I’m gathering a little group in compartment C — invited Harry Potter, whom I just met over the summer! I don’t suppose you know him?“

“We’ve met,” said Ginny, still eying Professor Slughorn dubiously.

“Excellent! Now then, just come with me — ” Without a word to anyone else, Professor Slughorn set off, taking Ginny with him.

“Well, I call that polite,” Dean spluttered, watching them go. “What are we, chopped flobberworms?”

“That must be our Defense teacher,” said Parvati. “Wonder what he’s like?”

“Plays favorites, I shouldn’t wonder,” said Seamus.

Zacharias sat sullenly up from the floor and left the compartment.

When they got to the castle, they were forced to wait in the entrance hall while Filch ran Secrecy Sensors over everyone. He seemed to take a very long time with the Gryffindors. “In league with those Weasleys, the pack of you…”

“What exactly d’you mean by that?” demanded Ron. Lavender turned to look at him — and caught her breath. 

Ron had always been tall, but over the summer, he had shot up even more. He had pushed back his robe sleeves in the crowded hall, revealing arms muscular from throwing Quaffles; over them slid thin scars, remnants of the battle at the Ministry. Lavender thought he had the right idea — the hall was certainly very warm indeed, it was strange she hadn’t noticed that before now. She looked hurriedly away.

Once they got to the feast, Lavender took her seat and saw that, for the first time, Professor Trelawney had decided to attend. A familiar, bittersweet feeling came over her, but for once, it was more happy than sad; perhaps now Trelawney would stop hiding away. 

Professor Snape was at the staff table too, as usual, but Hagrid was missing; would Harry start shouting about that? Lavender looked around and found that Harry was nowhere to be seen. He had definitely been on the train, though, Professor Slughorn had said so… Lavender resolved not to panic.

A few minutes in, Lavender saw a silvery shape lope into the room. A Patronus? Snape rose and followed it out of the room. This was all very strange, but Lavender put it out of her mind as the new students were sorted and the feast began in good earnest.

Conversation died down to a minimum as everyone tucked in to the heaps of food in front of them. Lavender only began to pay attention to her surroundings again when the main dishes disappeared and puddings arrived. She had just helped herself to a dish of ice cream when she noticed that several people were standing up in order to see something. Lavender turned to look herself; Harry Potter was speeding into the Great Hall, walking so fast he was almost running, his face covered in blood. He sat down between Ron and Hermione and began a quiet conversation.

To her great disappointment, Lavender was too far away to hear anything. “Seamus,” she hissed, “did Harry say what happened?”

“Of course he didn’t,” Seamus hissed back. Then he suddenly stopped talking. Dumbledore had gotten to his feet.

“The very best of evenings to you!” Dumbledore said, and as he flung out welcoming arms, Lavender noticed that his right hand was as blackened and withered as a half-burned tree.

Lavender sucked in a breath. “What happened to him?” she whispered, looking at Seamus and Parvati. They both shrugged.

Dumbledore, meanwhile, was shaking down his sleeve to hide his hand again. “Nothing to worry about,” he said. 

Lavender was not sure she believed him on this, but Dumbledore had quickly moved on to other matters. A quick welcome to the students, a reminder of some Hogwarts rules, then he turned to staff announcements: “We are pleased to welcome a new member of staff this year. Professor Slughorn is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions master.”

“Potions?” said Lavender in shock; was Professor Snape being sacked in front of everyone? She glanced down the staff table again; Professor Snape, who had evidently returned unnoticed during the feast, was sitting at his usual place. His expression, at this distance at least, seemed impassive.

“Professor Snape, meanwhile,” said Dumbledore in a louder voice, “will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Lavender let out a little squeak and covered her mouth with her hands. Her memory filled with the Herbology greenhouses on a March morning, Professor Snape clipping wolfsbane as Professor Sprout said, I’ve heard he prefers yellow carnations for symbolic reasons…

This evening, though, Lavender thought she saw a slight smile on Professor Snape’s face as he raised an acknowledging hand. To Lavender’s left, Harry exclaimed “No!” as Seamus and Dean muttered, and across from her, Parvati was frowning; a year ago, Lavender would definitely have been with them, but now, she felt warm inside thinking that for Professor Snape, today at long last was not a yellow-carnation day.

Chapter 33: The Glories of a Hopeless Cause

As they got ready the next morning, Parvati said to Lavender, “This must be the year for your vision, then. I hope it doesn’t happen on the Hogwarts grounds… you said you didn’t recognize the room, right?”

Lavender blinked at Parvati. “What are you talking about?”

“Your vision,” Parvati said, exasperated, “you know, with Snape and the snake. He’s got the Defense job now, hasn’t he? Everyone knows that job’s jinxed, and I think we know why Snape will be leaving it.”

“Oh. Oh, no.” Lavender trembled. “I’ve already tried telling him, he didn’t listen, and I don’t know how he’d avoid it, anyway…”

“He’s got to know the risks, hasn’t he? It’s his lookout. Small loss to us if he doesn’t take care.” Parvati went on brushing her hair.

“I’ll see you at breakfast,” Lavender said, full of a sudden need to be out of the room, moving, doing anything. She dashed down the stairs to the common room and joined the queue to get out of the portrait hole. A fourth year several places ahead of her was playing with a Fanged Frisbee. Every now and then, it nipped him and he yelped. Lavender glared at it; she had enough fangs to be worrying about without adding this to the mix.

At last, Lavender got out into the corridor and set off at a brisk pace. Ron, Hermione, and Harry were walking rather slowly ahead of her. The fourth-year was getting his Fanged Frisbee confiscated by Hermione. As soon as he ran off, Ron tugged the Frisbee out of Hermione’s hands. “Excellent,” Lavender heard him say, “I’ve always wanted one of these.”

Lavender started to laugh. She couldn’t help it; all this time she spent, trying to avoid the teeth that seemed to be waiting at every corner, and here was Ron with his blithe confidence, yearning to find them. 

Still laughing as she passed Ron, Harry, and Hermione, she looked over her shoulder. Ron was spinning the Frisbee in large, capable hands, controlling its snapping without apparent effort. When he saw Lavender staring, he gave her a slow grin. Lavender looked away and felt herself blush, but the image stayed in her mind, as clear as a wizard’s photograph: Ron Weasley, playing with fangs and smiling. Lavender found it oddly reassuring.

As soon as breakfast was over, Professor McGonagall came down from the staff table to check the sixth years’ proposed course timetables against their O.W.L. results. She turned to Lavender first. “Let’s see, then… Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, all fine. Transfiguration, yes; incidentally, I was pleased to see your mark there. But Potions… I’m sorry, Miss Brown, but I cannot see Professor Slughorn taking an ‘Acceptable.’ A mark like that casts doubt on your ability to keep up.”

“What if I ask him about it?” Lavender pleaded.

“You are, of course, welcome to,” Professor McGonagall said, “but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“What am I going to do, Professor?” asked Lavender in a small voice. “I needed Potions for both Healing and robe-making.”

“You needed an O.W.L. in Potions for both Healing and robe-making,” Professor McGonagall corrected, “and you’ve got one. The Magiclothiers’ Guild won’t mind an ‘Acceptable’ in the slightest. It’s only N.E.W.T.-level studies that are unlikely for you at this point.”

“When is the basic Ancient Runes course, then? I remember you saying I’d need that for robe-making too…”

Professor McGonagall looked uncharacteristically sheepish. “I’m afraid it’s at the same time as sixth-year Charms, which you will also need for making robes. In the past, we’ve been able to arrange with the Ministry for especially motivated students to… navigate these situations, but our means of doing so have recently been taken away for good.”

“Oh,” said Lavender sadly.

“I did speak to Professor Babbling about the situation. Happily, as she has fewer students than most teachers, she has agreed to let you read with her independently.” Professor McGonagall gave Lavender a scroll. “Here are the details, in case you accept.”

“All right. Thank you, ma’am.”

Professor McGonagall nodded, tapped a blank timetable with her wand so that it filled with Lavender’s courses, handed it to Lavender, and went to talk with Seamus. Lavender got up and went to the library to investigate the scroll in greater detail. She passed Parvati as she left, but she didn’t stop to speak to her; she was a little afraid of Parvati’s reaction when Parvati discovered Lavender wasn’t taking Divination anymore.

The scroll contained a timetable of homework and due dates, directions for submitting work or questions (it seemed Madam Pince had agreed to collect Lavender’s essays on Professor Babbling’s behalf), and further instructions for getting textbooks. Lavender went to show it to Madam Pince, who gave her a tied bundle of books with evident reluctance. “These belong to Professor Babbling,” she hissed, “not Hogwarts, and that’s the only reason I’m letting you take them out of the library. Don’t get any ideas!”

After this, Lavender tried to go and find Professor Slughorn, but he was busy teaching a class, so she was forced to wait. The hour passed quickly until Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lavender met Parvati in the corridor outside.

“Why weren’t you in Divination?” Parvati demanded.

“Sorry,” said Lavender, fiddling with her book bag, “I’m not taking it anymore, I’m… focusing on other things.”

“You might have told me,” said Parvati crossly, “I was looking forward to being in lessons together.”

“I meant to, really, I just — I didn’t know what to say…” Lavender spread out helpless hands.

A very long moment passed before the door opened. “Inside,” said Professor Snape to the queue that had formed in the corridor.

Lavender filed in after Parvati and found a seat next to her. She looked around; curtains now covered the windows, and candles lit the classroom instead. It seemed Professor Snape was taking no chances at the class being distracted. Indeed, the drawings that he had hung on the walls, all depicting grisly catastrophes, discouraged a wandering eye. Lavender wondered fleetingly how he had gotten these pictures; had he drawn them himself?

“I have not asked you to take out your books,” Professor Snape said, closing the classroom door. Although this door was much lighter than the one in the dungeons, he managed to give it the same dramatic effect. “I wish to speak to you, and I want your fullest attention.”

He was looking to make sure he had it, too. Lavender sat up very straight.

“You have had five teachers in this subject so far, I believe. Naturally, these teachers will all have had their own methods and priorities.”

Remembering some of Umbridge’s “methods and priorities,” Lavender fingered the D.A. Galleon in her robe pocket; it clinked softly against the vials. Would they need to use it again? They had seen Professor Snape teach one Defense lesson before, during third year, but Lavender couldn’t remember much of it, other than that he’d acted as though they were all stupid, disparaged Professor Lupin, and assigned them two rolls of parchment on how to capture and kill werewolves. Lavender hadn’t known anyone could have so much to say on that topic.

Professor Snape continued, “Given this confusion I am surprised so many of you scraped an O.W.L. in this subject. I shall be even more surprised if all of you manage to keep up with the N.E.W.T. work, which will be much more advanced.”

He began to pace the room. “The Dark Arts,” he said, his voice low, “are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before.”

“The Hydra,” Lavender breathed, remembering a story her mother had read to her, long ago when Kennicombe Inn was still small enough and she was still young enough that bedtime stories figured in her life. Parvati gave Lavender a confused look.

Professor Snape glanced at Lavender and went on, “You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible.” 

There was a note in his voice that reminded Lavender of the way Seamus spoke before the Kenmare Kestrels faced a particularly formidable Quidditch foe. He loves it, she realized. The challenge of it all, the thrill of fighting it.

“Your defenses,” Professor Snape said, raising his voice slightly, “must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo. These pictures give a fair representation of what happens to those who suffer, for instance, the Cruciatus Curse” — Lavender flinched slightly and looked at Neville, whose face had tautened — “feel the Dementor’s Kiss, or provoke the aggression of the Inferius.” Professor Snape indicated the pictures in question as he spoke.

“Has an Inferius been seen, then?” Parvati said in a high voice, and Lavender recalled her friend’s past fear of mummies and knew that Parvati, too, had found her worst fear taking on a whole new form in Voldemort’s hands. “Is it definite, is he using them?”

“The Dark Lord has used Inferi in the past,” Professor Snape said, “which means you would be well-advised to assume he might use them again.”

Lavender noticed he had not said anything whatsoever about how frightened Parvati sounded. In fact, he had moved on entirely and was asking the class about the advantage of a nonverbal spell. 

Eventually, Professor Snape divided the class into pairs to practice nonverbal jinxing and shielding. As Lavender was trying to repel Parvati’s Impediment Jinx, focusing so hard that the murmurs of the other students and of Snape’s corrections had faded away, her concentration was suddenly shattered by Harry shouting, “Protego!”

There was a loud crash. Professor Snape had hit a desk; he now stood up, scowling, and asked Harry whether he recalled they were practicing nonverbal spells. “Yes,” said Harry brusquely.

“Yes, sir,” corrected Professor Snape.

“There’s no need to call me ‘sir,’ Professor,” said Harry. Professor Snape blinked. Seamus and Dean, behind him, were grinning in appreciation, though whether they were appreciating Harry’s wit or his entire lack of self-preservation was open to question. Lavender pulled in a sharp breath, waiting for the explosion. Was Snape going to use Harry then and there as a more vivid demonstration of curse effects? Lavender shivered slightly, recalling some of the things the fourth-year Defense teacher had done…

Oddly, however, Professor Snape merely gave Harry detention in a perfectly ordinary voice, with no more than his usual snide commentary. He then went on with the lesson as though nothing had happened. As he did so, Lavender made a mental note to put away the D.A. Galleon in the bottom of her trunk. It seemed they weren’t going to need it after all.

Given all this, when the lesson ended, Lavender was bewildered to hear Professor Snape say coldly, “Miss Brown. A word.”

How could she possibly have gotten in trouble? Lavender sat back down; most of the class had already left. Parvati gave her a sympathetic smile and went out. As soon as the last student was gone, Professor Snape barked, “What happened?”

Lavender darted a glance at the open door. It looked awfully inviting. She forced herself to look back at Professor Snape instead. “Sir?”

“The O.W.L., Miss Brown. What happened?”

The door was looking better and better. Lavender said, as evenly as possible, “As you yourself said, Professor, an E is not a bad mark after what we’ve had to deal with — ”

Snape waved a hand as though shooing a fly. “Not that. I was speaking of your Potions exam.”

“Oh.” Relief washed over Lavender; she wasn’t going to have to tell Snape about the boggart after all. “My cauldron exploded halfway through the practical,” she explained.

“Your cauldron exploded,” Snape repeated skeptically. “What, precisely, caused this little display of negligence?”

“They told me afterwards they’d bought thin-bottomed cauldrons,” Lavender said defensively. “And you said we were only going to suffer your displeasure if we didn’t get an ‘Acceptable’! Which I did!”

“Surely you knew that in your case, I would not be content with an ‘Acceptable.’ You failed to examine the cauldron for cracks beforehand, I take it?”

“Well… yes,” Lavender admitted. “But it was an official exam cauldron! It should have been fine!”

“Nevertheless,” said Snape, “it is an elementary mistake to trust a borrowed cauldron.”

Lavender grimaced ruefully. “I won’t be doing it again, sir. I probably won’t have a chance to do anything potion-related again, anyway — I got the book just in case, but I don’t think I’ll be let into the N.E.W.T. class.”

“Likely not,” Snape agreed with apparent unconcern. “Though I am sure I could find some snake livers that required removing.”

“Wait — are you still doing those sorts of things? I thought, since you’re teaching Defense — ”

“I still retain some inventory oversight, yes. It is useful for particularly troublesome students.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Lavender promised. Professor Snape almost smiled.

Seeing this, Lavender decided to chance asking a question. “Professor? What you said in class today, about the Dark Arts being eternal — do you mean that’s what we see, or do you mean they really have always been and will always be?”

“Has your experience ever suggested otherwise?” Snape inquired.

“Well, not in myself, of course not. I mean, that bouquet last year, I would have cursed Professor Trelawney if you hadn’t said something. And it seems like it’s that way for other people, too, from what they do. But all the same — ” Lavender looked at Professor Snape somewhat wistfully. “Do you really think there wasn’t, well, even just a moment at the start of magic when nothing was trying to destroy other things? There won’t ever be a moment at the end of it when that force is gone for good?”

“Does it matter?” Snape asked, his face giving nothing away.

“Yes! Of course it does!” Lavender burst out.

“For all practical purposes, however, the outcome is the same. You can hardly be expecting that you will destroy the Dark Arts for all time?” Snape looked faintly derisive.

“No, but, sir — even that monster you were talking about, the Hydra that Hercules fought — ” Lavender saw something unreadable flicker in Snape’s eyes at her recognition of the story. She pressed on, “Even that monster was defeated in the end, despite all its heads.”

“By the son of a god, yes,” said Snape, even more witheringly than usual. “The rest of us, however, must content ourselves with the glories of a hopeless cause.”

“But, Professor, even so, wouldn’t it make things better if all the monsters had a beginning? So we could have something to look back on when they do defeat us?”

“I have seen people who thought as you do,” Snape said.

“They died, didn’t they,” said Lavender, who could see where this was going.

“Yes. But that proves nothing. So do we all.”

Lavender nodded sadly and was almost to the door when she thought of something else. “Sir, do you know what happened to Professor Dumbledore’s hand?”

Snape cast an irritated glance at the ceiling. “If you so much as say the words ‘cursed wounds’ — ”

“I wasn’t going to! I know not to use the same potion for everything, you taught me better than that!”

“Did I? I wasn’t aware that I had managed,” said Snape, but he looked half amused. Lavender smiled back and left the classroom. Parvati had been waiting at the end of the corridor; it wasn’t until Lavender had caught up with her that she realized Professor Snape hadn’t actually answered her last question. She decided to let it go.

Next (ch 34-36)

[angstbabyjae]

When it comes to the murderbot diaries I really like the idea that Murderbot’s sexuality and gender isn’t just a Bot thing, it just assumes it is.

I think bots without sexual organs would be some flavor of aspec by nature, as they aren’t programmed to feel sexual attraction but I don’t think it’s impossible for them, especially when it comes to romantic attraction and gender.

I want to write a fic where Murderbot learns that being agender and sex-repulsed aroace isn’t a universal bot experience (and that it’s possible for humans too).

I’ve been developing personal headcanons for Murderbot, Three, and Perihelion/ART as I tend to do when hyperfixation take hold. I am nearly finished reading the series and haven’t reread it yet so there’s a possibility my growing headcanons have already been contradicted, but nonetheless, here they are.

Content warning for discussion of sex.

Content warning for LONG ASS POST.

I haven’t read System Collapse yet as I am writing this, it is next on my list, but I’ve been spoiled that ART was raised alongside Iris with development comparable to a human’s. I don’t think it would have the same level of sex repulsion that Murderbot has.

Not to say you can’t grow up with sex being normalized and still be sex repulsed, obviously, but I think its feelings towards it would still be different. I think it has a lot more of an understanding of why human’s like it/care about it (outside of biological reasoning) more than Murderbot does.

I still think it’s a flavor of ace, as it doesn’t have sexual organs to stimulate and has very likely never had someone to try sex on before. I think it might be less likely the fast forward through sex scenes than Murderbot is, but would do it without question when watching something alongside it. I think it would find sex interesting and wonder what it would be like to be able to experience it.

Murderbot would definitely be flabbergasted if it ever found that out. I feel like Murderbot would be very surprised and probably instinctively grossed out at the idea that not all bots share its feelings towards sex and gender. A part of that reaction would probably be because it would have to stop delegating its orientation and gender as bot related and start thinking about it as unique to its identity as a person.

I’ve read fics where Murderbot and ART use entering each other’s systems as a form of non-sexual-but-sex-representative intimacy between them and I remember thinking “wow I can totally see ART being aware of the parallels to sex and being okay with that while Murderbot would be horrified if the idea ever crossed its mind and very defensive if anyone compared it”.

I see Murderbot & Mensah and Murderbot & ART as QPRs for sure. I don’t see Murderbot being as repulsed by romance as a concept as it is by sex, when it comes to it happening to other people as it seems like a lot of its serials have romantic subplots and it doesn’t really react when it sees people in romantic relationships. I think it’s made it clear it doesn’t want one for itself, but I think queerplatonic (or just generally unlabeled) relationships are something it wants (and always finds itself in LOL) even if it won’t admit it.

We all know it makes a big deal of being touch repulsed, but I think there’s ample evidence from how it acts with Mensah that it can get used to and even enjoy touch from specific people to certain extents. If it had stayed on Preservation Station and continued its proximity to Mensah, there would eventually be more physical affection between the two.

With ART, the idea of non-sexual intimacy through their systems/feed/presences?? (I don’t really know what to call it), especially casually, would probably be something that appeals to Murderbot in the long run of their relationship as it comes with the perk of not involving touching its actual body which is probably where a lot of the overstimulation comes from, though we know it can still make it uncomfortable from how it talked about ART essentially breathing down its neck when they first met, so it might take time or be in small doses.

I think despite not having a body, ART would be touch-positive (its crew touching its ship body, being close to MB in its feed). I’ve read a fic recently where MB let it control its hands to try touching its body, which I loved (despite thinking in canon MB would be less likely to allow it loll but ART wanting something like that just made sense to me). I can also see ART admiring how people (including MB) look while MB wouldn’t care about that at all.

I haven’t decided whether I think ART is alloromantic, arospec, or just as aromantic as MB just with less negative feelings about the idea. I might need to come back to this after my reread when I have a better grasp on the character. I think its queerplatonic feelings towards MB are more romantic-adjacent than MB’s are towards it. It didn’t seem as objective to Amena’s jokes about them being a couple as Murderbot was. I also like the interpretation that there is romantic elements to ART’s feelings it just would never pursue a relationship Murderbot wouldn’t want, I can see it being fine with whatever labels Murderbot wants for them.

Genderwise, we know Murderbot is strictly it/its and it/its is what’s used for Perihelion too. However, I can see ART not being as bothered by gender pronouns as MB. I feel like maybe in the future far future MB would maybeeee entertain they/them or other non-gendered pronouns but I don’t see that likely where it’s currently at. With ART I see it as maybe not minding any pronouns used for it and it/its being what people call it by default and it doesn’t mind that. They’re both agender though.

When I picture MB I usually picture it as transmasc (I am transmasc myself btw). Still agender, obviously, but when it comes to how it presents. It really doesn’t want to be associated with any gender, binary or otherwise. Behavior towards gender seems a lot more evolved in the society of the books. There’s a lot I could say about the series and gender, but that would have to be a whole other post. I feel like anyone assuming Murderbot’s gender would deeply unnerve it. I don’t think it even likes to be seen as non-binary or as agender in a That’s It’s Gender Identity way, it just wants people to assume bots having any kind of gender identity is impossible (which is what it thinks itself, and is probably wrong about). This was definitely the thought behind its preferred gender marker being “N/A”.

When it comes to Three (finally I’m getting to Three 😭) I lowkey think it’s alloromantic. I was drawn to that idea when it was asking about SecUnit 2 (or 1? I can’t remember, it was the one that it didn’t know was dead left and was left to die) and it was clear their relationship was at least a friendship and I was like… what if it was in loveee. I liked the idea of MB having to interact with a SecUnit that didn’t fit its idea of default bot sexual identity.

I don’t know if Three appears frequently in System Collapse, I only know what I’ve read about it in Network Effect. I also think Three, having had friends before, would be much more open with its feelings than MB, it just wouldn’t know how to express them as it was never allowed to before aside from the discreet ways it would interact with its SecUnit friends. I definitely see it as being more touch-positive. I do think it’s also asexual though, maybe less sex repulsed, but more apathetic and neutral towards it.

I know this is crazy long. I’m so sorry to whoever accidentally opens this and has to scroll through the whole thing 😭

I want to make a post about MB and autism eventually.

Update: I sent this mere seconds ago, but I have realized that I have now encountered multiple fics where ART is just kinky as hell (nonsexual when MB is involved ofc) and I kinda love that idea 😭 of all the people for MB to bond to it had to be an Unusually Horny spaceship

Btw I say “ofc” because, in character, MB is sex repulsed ace however it is an unreliable narrator to an extent and given it is fictional and not harmful there isn’t anything wrong with making it sexual in your fics, just wanted to clarify. You do you, internet.

[patricialupien]

Jesus Fucking Christ I hate Generative AI. I hate it with the passion of a thousand black holes. There is very little you can do to convince me that it has any purpose OTHER THAN TO PISS ME OFF!

Firstly, it's stealing. You're taking other people's art, other people's prose and passing it off as something you created, with no credit to the original innovator. It's being fed into a programmed sieve and turning someone's hard work into generic slop. It doesn't understand the original intent of the art and barfs it out and homogenizes it. (And for your information, I'm utilizing larger words just to fuck with the scrapers. Fear My Vocabulary Skills!)

Secondly, it's cheating. It's cheating creators of jobs to save a buck. The originators of the text that you stole to make your own AI story that you pushed up to Amazon Publishing to make a quick sale worked extremely hard to find the right words, the right phrasing in order to make the reader feel something. The journalists that are being pushed out of the press studied for years on how to present the facts in an unbiased way and still retain their style. Animators who have dreamed of working for a certain studio are being regulated (another big word) to storyboarding and cleanup because "AI will fill in the gaps." Voice Actors who have put nuance and subtlety into each phrase are having their voice patterns and pronunciations fed through and algorithm so that they won't be paid for future projects. Producers will just pull out a file labeled "J.K Simmons" or "Laura Bailey" and use their vocal likenesses without pay or accreditation.

I personally agonized for years on going back to school to get my degree in Graphic Design. But I realized that even with the background, no one would hire me without a Bachelor's Degree. So I went back to school. In total, it took me 18 years to finally get a Bachelor's degree in Graphic Design. I learned about proportion and color theory and techniques and tools, and I busted my ass! It took my free time, losing friends in the process. It took my money to get a degree. I have over 30 years of various experience from illustration to design, learning how to observe, to use tools as they evolved. I know about Gouache and watercolor and ink and anatomy. I know about Pagemaker and Quark and InDesign. Art has been my life. It's all I ever wanted to do. And I know I'm not unique. There are thousands like me in similar situations, with more talent, more knowledge, more invested in what they love.

And now the arts and humanities will be clouded with AI content that will eventually cannabalize itself. I am now not qualified to do my job, my passion, because I'm trained, and it'll cost less to have some prompt monkey plug in random words to try to get a half decent result. I can't appreciate anything that I see on my feed at first glance, because I have to count the fingers and look for flaws like some sort of forgery detective at the Louvre. AI art has made me cynical, where as art used to make me feel hopeful and magical. Meta has decided I need AI friends and influencers now while burying the people I want to connect to.

I am angry beyond words.

I don’t need AI, nor do I want it. Kindly stick your prompts in the hell that the NFT monkeys are suffering in.

[dogray]

good morning don't mind me i just want to preserve the text of this scam email i got because i have never received one like it before and it is fascinating to me. big fan of the writing style. this person should be posting on tumblr instead of spending their time trying to scare people into giving them money

lil slur warning if u choose to read it; there is one r slur in there (it's misspelled which is very funny to me)

anyway here's an excerpt of my favourite lines in the whole lengthy email, then the full text below the cut:

In other words, you were under my microscope for many days like some kind of a little bug. The only difference is that unlike you there is no bug in the world who like to watch pervert porn.

from: You've been hacked subject: Check this out - I own very sensitive information about your web activities

Greetings!

First of all, let me tell you, you are one of a kind! It is hard to impress me because I have seen a lot in my career as a professional hacker but now I am really impressed.

I will get straight to the point. Listen to me carefully.

Several months ago, I was able to hack your operating system and gain full access to all your devices and accounts including messengers, social media profiles, etc. I hope, now you begin to get my message. It goes without saying that I gained access to what you type via keylogger, your internet activity and webcam streaming. All of this was possible due to your frequent visits to adult websites infected with harmful malware. In other words, you were under my microscope for many days like some kind of a little bug. The only difference is that unlike you there is no bug in the world who like to watch pervert porn.

Yes, you understand it right: I was able to see everything on your screen and record video and audio streams of your camera and microphone. All of these records are currently securely saved on my storage as well as a backup copy.

In addition, I also gained access to your confidential information contained in your emails and chat messages.

Probably you are wondering why your antivirus and spyware defender software allowed me to do all of this? I am sorry but it’s a very stupid question. All antivirus programs turned into useless shit quite a long time ago. Have you ever heard last years about any “advanced” new technologies in this industry? Exactly. Nowadays, developers do not give a flying fuck about your security. Therefore, hackers like me took advantage of it.

The more you know my friend, no need to thank me. Maybe with this fresh knowledge, you will be more serious about your internet security and never take it for granted anymore.

With that out of the way, let’s cut to the chase. Using your recordings I made a video compilation, which shows on the left side the controversial porn scenes of you happily masturbating to, while on the right side it demonstrates the video you were watching at that moment.. ^.^

There are only 48 hours left since the moment you receive this email until I send this video to all your email and messenger contacts. But there is more, guess what? I can also make public all your emails and chat history.

You are sick fuck in love with freaky adult content but you are not mentally retarted so I would like to believe, you do not want to let this happen. Right? Only the most stupid man in the world would be happy if his friends, loved ones and colleagues suddenly knew about something like this.

In other words, there is no way back. It cannot be fixed. However, there is a way forward that both of us can benefit from. I am a reasonable guy and have no intention to ruin your life for nothing. I’d better like to gain something instead.

Here is your salvation – transfer the Bitcoin equivalent of 900 USD to my Bitcoin account (you can google the process in case you don’t know how to do that).

Here is my Bitcoin address: [redacted]

Once I am notified of receiving it, I will delete all those videos and disappear from your life for good. As I mentioned, you have only 48 hours to make a transaction after you open this email.

Believe me, I am always one step ahead so no way in hell you could fool me. If I discover that you shared this message with others, I will send and publish your videos in no time.

P.S. It’s in your power to make it nice for both of us.

[currantlee]

K, lemme make this clear.

I have no issue with people using AI generators in order to just mess around, have fun, and create something for themselves to enjoy. I also have no issue with people using AI as an inspirational tool whatsoever.

However, what I do have a problem with is when people label the generated content art (which it isn't. It's content, sure, but content created from an algorithmic processing of data rather than actual creativity of a living being), try to make money off of it, get mad at people reposting "their" AI generated image (going as far as attempting DMCA takedowns, which legally doesn't make sense since AI generated content cannot be copyrighted due to not being created by a human being), stealing / using artwork without consent in order to "train" an AI (I prefer the terminology "to feed it with data"), and probably worst of all, shit on people who actually put in the time and effort to draw an image (especially if said artists use protection mechanisms like Glaze in order to protect their artwork from being appropriated by AI).

There is so much work that goes into a single piece of artwork, and yes, programming is also work - however, most of these AI Bros seemingly do not program. How do I know that? Well, it's because a lot of them do not seem to understand how the technology they're promoting let alone basic programming works. Probably the best comment to illustrate this that I've read was "we don't need human artists anymore, we have enough AI generated content to train the AIs on" (paraphrased). Which is laughable, because if you actually did that, you'd create a feedback loop that over time results in AIs only ever being able to create a single image (if taken to the extreme).

Seriously, the entire "programming is just as hard as being creative, these artists are SO elitist and gatekeepers" makes me go 🙄 All these people do is stealing human-made content to feed an AI of their choice with it, come up with a prompt (easy, do you know how many ideas I have in a single day??? Too many to let all of them come to life!) and wait for a preprogrammed algorithm to render an image or create a text.

Again, this is nothing against people who just use AI to mess around, experiment, have fun, get inspired, quickly create some wholesome pics to look at, and so on - especially if those people (when they decide to post the AI generated content) disclose this properly. Like with everything, there are legitimate uses to AI that should not be hated on just for playing with AI. Yes, most existing generative AIs were trained unethically, however, the unethical training has already happened. I think what's more important than to hate on people who are really just trying to have fun while not hurting anyone is to prevent it from happening again in the present and future, and to separate them from the AI bros who clearly have way too large egos.

Thanks for reading my unpopular opinion on AI generated content.

[maiega]

Finding Your Learning Style: A Look at Online Arabic Courses

Learning Arabic can be a very different experience depending on how you like to study. Some people prefer structure, while others enjoy a more relaxed approach. With so many programs now available online, it's easier than ever to choose a course that fits your style. This variety is especially useful for learners who want to study Arabic for religious, academic, or personal reasons.

Arabic Courses Online come in many shapes and formats. Some offer live classes with a teacher guiding you step-by-step. Others are self-paced and let you go through lessons on your own schedule. Understanding your preferences can make a big difference in how much you enjoy the course and how well you learn.

For example, if you like having regular interaction and feedback, live sessions might suit you best. These classes are usually held on platforms like Zoom or Skype, where you can ask questions, get corrections in real time, and stay on track with a fixed schedule. They often follow a curriculum that moves from the alphabet and basic grammar to more advanced conversation or Quranic Arabic.

On the other hand, self-paced courses give you more freedom. They usually include pre-recorded videos, downloadable materials, and online quizzes. This type works well for people who like to take their time or study at odd hours. It also helps if you want to repeat lessons multiple times without feeling rushed.

Some platforms mix both styles. They offer recorded lessons but also provide the option to meet with a tutor once or twice a week. This hybrid approach can work well if you need flexibility but still want some level of personal support.

The way the material is presented also plays a role. Some courses use a lot of visuals, games, and interactive tools. These are good for younger learners or people who enjoy learning by doing. Others stick to a more traditional method with texts, grammar drills, and vocabulary lists, which might appeal more to serious students preparing for formal exams.

It's also important to consider the teacher’s background. In some courses, instructors speak multiple languages and are trained in teaching Arabic to non-native speakers. This can make it easier to understand difficult grammar rules or cultural details. In other cases, courses are taught entirely in Arabic, which can be challenging at first but very rewarding if you’re aiming for immersion.

Cost can vary depending on the course format. Live sessions with private tutors tend to be more expensive. Meanwhile, self-paced programs often offer one-time payment plans or monthly subscriptions. Some even have free trial lessons or sample videos so you can try them before signing up.

Choosing the right course comes down to knowing what works for you. Do you need structure or flexibility? Do you like working with others, or do you prefer studying alone? Are you learning for fun, travel, religion, or something else? Answering these questions can help you find a course that fits—not just in terms of content, but also in terms of how you learn best.

In the end, Arabic Courses Online offer something for everyone. Whether you’re just getting started or looking to build on what you already know, there’s a style and format that can match your needs and make your learning experience more enjoyable and effective.

[magnoliaswriteatsunset]

I remember having tears in my eyes when I had recently started using the period tracker when it initially came out. Caleb decided to visit Destiny cafe that day as he had been for most days since I added him with the other love interests. I wanted a nice and comforting message since my period cramps were hitting me hard and I felt unwell. I was away from family at the time, by myself, even though I would be back soon enough. I felt alone, in some ways. Content with solitude but craving support from loved ones during a time where I feel vulnerable and in pain. Caleb said one sentence and I just felt myself go rigid. “It’s your body, so you know it best.” Something along those lines.

Perhaps because it was the first day of my period where my cramps are the worst. Perhaps the hormones causing mood swings are what did it. Perhaps it was the wounds on my heart I didn’t realize I had. But I felt tears push at the backs of my eyes. I had never been in a romantic relationship before. I had never really felt like the men in my life understood what I wanted and needed during my period, just sympathizing with me and trying their best to not make it worse. It’s confusing for all involved. Before I heard Caleb say that sentence, I had simply accepted that if I were to ever be in a relationship with a man, I would have to deal with this part of my cycle by myself. I think I had lost hope before I even realized I had it in the first place. Hearing so many stories of how people who endure period pains being left to their own devices because their partners either don’t care to learn, because medical professionals don’t listen, felt isolating and terrifying. Even if there are good stories and ones filled with so much love and care it’s like watching a wound heal itself little by little, the worse stories stuck more.

Having my experience validated by this fictional man, who loves and cares for the love of his life, trying to understand her and work with her through the struggles they face, was healing. It felt like my autonomy and knowledge of myself and my body was validated in a way I didn’t know I needed. For the first time, I realized how I wanted to be loved and cared for. Especially during this kind of experience. I felt heard. Listened to. Even if he couldn’t really hear me. Even if he never will. Even if all I can do is press a button and listen to a pre-programmed message.

I know someone, some people, took the time and effort to carefully craft each response and message. To animate and give voice to each one. To ensure it not only suited each love interest but also create a feeling of safety and comfort for all the players. Feeling how much love and care the devs and cast put into making these messages and this feature, without knowing how much effort they put in, how many sleepless nights they laid awake pondering what it should do and look like, how many hours were spent fretting over each detail, it made me feel so loved and appreciated. And so incredibly grateful that I get to experience the result of their hard work and dedication to Love and Deepspace and its players. I will always be grateful to this game, its developers and voice cast, and this fan base for providing for me in ways I never knew I needed. Thank you, Love and Deepspace. And to all the wonderful hunters who help each other feel seen and heard. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❄️💫🌊🐦‍⬛🍎💪❤️‍🩹

I look forward to what the future has in store for us. 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

I wish that, instead of reacting angrily or feeling attacked by the love many women feel for Love and Deepspace, some men would adopt a more open attitude and use the lessons this game offers to improve the way they treat their partners and women in general.

Love and Deepspace is designed to make us feel loved and to convey what love should feel like. For me (and I know for many others), it has taught me to understand what I truly desire in a relationship and how I want to be treated. Love interests are designed to make us feel valued, prioritized, and deeply loved. They are attentive, respectful, and caring, showing their love without coercion or demands, putting us first, and the evolution of the relationship and its intimacy is built on trust and mutual respect.

Even mechanics like the menstrual cycle representation, which has been criticized so much, are a reflection of the care and empathy that should exist in a healthy relationship. Understanding your partner's stage of the cycle not only allows you to support them more sensitively, but also to show meaningful support during phases like the luteal phase or menstruation itself.

This game isn't about sex or pornography, as many people think, but about love, respect, and genuine affection. It teaches us what true love feels like, what a healthy relationship should be like, and what it means to be authentically loved. There's nothing wrong with this, nor should those of us who enjoy this experience feel ashamed.

[traffictrendz]

Navigating the Online Money-Making Maze

Making money online can often feel like navigating a maze without a map. Entrepreneurs face a slew of recurring challenges. Overcoming these isn't simply a box-ticking exercise; it requires a mindset shift and strategic action. Amidst the swirl of affiliate programs, digital marketing, and endless webinars promising riches, it’s easy to lose sight of what's important. But fret not. By acknowledging these hurdles, you set the stage for effective solutions. Ever wondered why some folks thrive while others watch from the sidelines? Often, it's about their relentless focus on the basics and their knack for stumbling forward through trial and error. Today, we'll delve into these core challenges and explore practical ways to find your way out of the labyrinth of online earning, one step at a time.

Demystifying Conversion: Crafting Funnels that Work

Conversions are the bread and butter of online business. Yet, creating a sales funnel that truly works can be as tricky as solving a Rubik's cube with your eyes closed. The key? It's all about understanding your audience. Are you seeing visitors pour in but few buy? Perhaps it's time to tweak your funnel, not just once but continuously. A/B testing isn’t a new buzzword. It's a necessary strategy to refine what works best. Think of it like a science experiment where the hypothesis is your current funnel design. Don’t shy away from learning from others. A classic case that comes to mind is Company X, which increased conversions by 30% by merely making its call-to-action button red instead of green. Here's the study. Like these successful companies, continuous optimization and understanding your audience can lead to a higher conversion success rate. Pro tip: Avoid clutter in your funnels. Sometimes, less really is more.

Traffic Generation Without Breaking the Bank

Driving traffic can feel like trying to fill a swimming pool with a teaspoon. But fear not, for the art of attracting eyes to your content doesn’t have to empty your wallet. SEO remains a tried-and-true workhorse. A well-optimized site with killer content can draw organic traffic like bees to honey. Remember, it’s not about stuffing keywords awkwardly into every sentence but offering genuine, valuable information. Social media engagement is your public square; become the town crier with valuable proclamations. Ever heard of doing more with less? Content marketing fits this bill. By repurposing one strong piece of content in different formats, you broaden your outreach without extra effort. And let’s not forget influencer partnerships. Sometimes, borrowing a bit of someone else’s limelight can put you on the map. Who knew making friends could be part of building traffic too?

Staying Motivated: Cultivating Resilience and Focus

Let’s face it, maintaining motivation is like trying to keep a leaky boat afloat. One moment you're fired up, the next you're adrift. So, how do the great ones keep rowing all the way to the shore of success? Setting clear, achievable goals is like having a lighthouse to guide you home. The SMART goal framework (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, Time-bound) is an oldie but a goodie. Think about people like T. Harv Eker, who often uses powerful anecdotes to inspire through his Millionaire Mind courses. Having a daily routine is like the groove on a record that keeps you playing your tune; consistency breeds habit. Surround yourself with success stories or join a community that pushes you to stay on track. After all, motivation is contagious!

Join the Affiliate Revolution - Learn more Here

The Power of Community: Why You Don't Have to Go It Alone

Ever felt like a lone wolf in the expansive forest of online business? It's a common trap. But remember, even wolves hunt in packs. Joining an online community can offer insights and unanticipated pathways you might have missed on your own. Networking isn't just for LinkedIn buffs. It’s about sharing ideas and gaining new perspectives. Seeking out mentors can provide invaluable advice. They’ve already survived the storms you’re currently weathering. An example? John Lee Dumas, renowned for his Entrepreneurs on Fire podcast, credits much of his success to mentorship and community. Check his story. Like any sport, having a team can propel you forward when the going gets tough.

A Simple System for Stress-Free Affiliate Marketing Success

Affiliate marketing can sometimes feel like herding cats. With so many programs, it’s easy to feel overwhelmed. Start with programs you know and love. Better yet, products you’ve used personally. People can spot insincerity from a mile away. Then, create content that genuinely helps your audience. Less pitch, more information. Use tracking tools to know what’s working and what isn’t. Think of it like fishing. You want to cast your net where the fish are biting, not in the vast, empty sea. One aspiring marketer shared how she tried promoting unrelated products initially, barely making a sale—until she switched to products she believed in. Her income increased tenfold! Learn more about her approach. Strategy and sincerity make for a winning combination.

[codingbrushup]

The Role of AI in Modern Web Development

 Artificial Intelligence used to sound like something out of a sci-fi movie, but now it's helping you build websites faster than ever. If you're in the world of web development, you’ve probably already seen some AI magic at work. From smart code suggestions to automating boring tasks, AI is here—and it’s actually making things a lot more fun.

Smarter Tools for Faster Coding

Imagine you’re typing away, trying to remember how to format a function you haven’t used in months. Suddenly, your code editor suggests the perfect line—almost like it read your mind. That’s AI in action! Tools like GitHub Copilot or Visual Studio IntelliCode use machine learning to predict what you’re trying to write next. They save you time, reduce errors, and help you code like a seasoned pro—even if you’ve only had two cups of coffee.

You no longer need to keep flipping between tabs or Googling syntax all day long. These smart tools help you focus more on solving problems and less on hunting down tiny coding details. It’s kind of like having a helpful assistant who doesn’t judge your typos. And let’s be honest—when you’re knee-deep in web development, every little bit of help goes a long way.

Design Like a Pro (Even If You're Not)

Not everyone has an eye for design, and that’s okay. AI tools now help you create beautiful, responsive websites even if your idea of design is still stuck in the MySpace era. With tools like Wix ADI and Bookmark’s AIDA, you can describe what you want in a few words, and AI will generate a sleek-looking website layout that’s mobile-friendly and modern.

These platforms analyze millions of existing website designs to figure out what looks good—and more importantly, what works. They then use that data to create a customized website just for you. It’s a little like ordering a sandwich at a deli, except instead of a sandwich, you get a website that actually looks amazing.

So if you’ve ever stared at a blank canvas in a web design tool wondering where to even start, AI’s got your back. It’s a game-changer for beginners and even gives seasoned developers a great head start.

Personalization Without the Headache

Web development isn’t just about making things look good—it’s also about creating experiences that people will actually enjoy. That’s where AI comes in again. AI can track user behavior and then personalize content, layouts, and even product suggestions in real time. It’s like giving your website a brain that learns what your visitors like and adapts to them.

For example, eCommerce websites use AI to show customers the products they’re most likely to buy. And blogs can recommend posts based on your reading habits. It’s subtle, but it makes your site feel smarter and more tailored. You don’t have to manually program all these features anymore—AI handles the complexity behind the scenes.

This kind of personalization used to take weeks of coding and testing. Now, with AI-powered APIs and services, you can implement it in just a few hours. That means you get to spend more time focusing on the fun stuff—like coming up with cool ideas and less time stuck writing endless logic rules.

What This Means for You

The role of AI in modern web development isn’t just about making things faster—it’s about making things better, smarter, and more fun. Whether you’re just starting out or you’ve been building websites since the dial-up days, AI gives you tools to work more efficiently and creatively.

You still need to understand the basics of how websites work, but AI removes a lot of the repetitive and frustrating parts. Think of it as having a superpower that speeds up your workflow and boosts your confidence. And let’s be real—who wouldn’t want that?

So the next time you dive into a web development project, don’t be afraid to lean on AI. It’s not cheating—it’s just working smarter. Plus, if the robots ever take over, maybe they’ll remember that time you let them help with your code.

[feder994]

How SEO Synd Suite Simplifies Backlink Creation for SEO Success

In the ever-evolving digital landscape, achieving top rankings on search engines like Google and video platforms like YouTube is important for virtually any business wanting to maximize its online visibility and drive traffic. Enter the SEO Synd Suite, new program made to raise your search engine optimisation (SEO) efforts by automating the development of thousands of high-quality backlinks and embeds. This comprehensive solution is not simply a tool; it's actually a game-changer for businesses trying to dominate their niche in the digital marketplace.

Understanding the Power of SEO Synd Suite

The SEO Synd Suite is engineered to simplify and accelerate the SEO process, ensuring that your site and content consistently rank higher browsing results. With its powerful features and user-friendly design, it does not take perfect solution for businesses of all sizes, whether you're an SEO novice or possibly a seasoned professional.

Key Features of SEO Synd Suite

Automatic Backlink and Embed Generation: The core of SEO Synd Suite is its capability to automatically generate high-quality backlinks and embeds from trusted sources. This feature alone can significantly enhance your online visibility and credibility.

Versatility Across Languages and Niches: No matter your organization's niche or language you be employed in, SEO Synd Suite supports everything, offering unparalleled versatility and reach.

Multi-Platform Support: SEO Synd Suite isn't limited to just one platform. It extends its capabilities to YouTube, TikTok, Soundcloud, Spotify, Instagram, plus more, ensuring comprehensive coverage across all marketing channels.

Commercial License for Client Use: With a complete commercial license, you can leverage SEO Synd Suite not just on your business but additionally offer becoming an email finder service to clients, expanding your company offerings.

19 Specialized Tools: Including 19 different tools, SEO Synd Suite covers a broad spectrum of marketing needs, so that it is a one-stop solution for the SEO requirements.

Real-Time Backlink Reporting and 24/7 Support: Stay informed with real-time backlink reports and revel in peace of mind with round-the-clock customer care.

The Benefits of Leveraging SEO Synd Suite

Utilizing the SEO Synd Suite brings quite a few benefits that could transform your digital strategy:

Rapid and Safe Link Building: Build links safely and swiftly from high-authority domains. This ensures your site gains the credibility it requires to rank higher on search engine results pages (SERPs).

Increased Organic Traffic and Sales: By improving your search engine results, SEO Synd Suite drives more organic people to your website, resulting in increased sales and revenue.

Time and Budget Efficiency: Automate your SEO processes with SEO Synd Suite, saving both time and expense. Forget about additional costs for proxies, VPNs, or third-party services.

Risk-Free Purchase: With a 30-day money-back guarantee, you are able to try SEO Synd Suite without risk, ensuring it meets your expectations and delivers results.

Unlimited Submissions: Maximize your return on your investment with unlimited submissions, permitting extensive reach and impact.

Compliance with Latest SEO Algorithms: Stay ahead of competition with a tool which is compliant with the latest SEO algorithms, ensuring sustainable and long-term results.

Monetize Your SEO Efforts: With SEO Synd Suite, you can sell backlinks and embeds on platforms like Fiverr or Legiit, creating yet another income stream.

Transforming Your SEO Strategy with SEO Synd Suite

Implementing an effective SEO technique is don't a daunting task while using SEO Synd Suite. The process is straightforward as well as no technical skills, due to its intuitive design. Simply paste your keyword, paste your URL, and then click "start." In just three simple measures, you're on your journey to achieving impressive SEO results.

Real-World Applications and Success Stories

Numerous businesses have transformed their online presence using SEO Synd Suite. Whether you're a local business hoping to reach more customers or perhaps an online retailer trying to boost sales, this toolset provides the necessary leverage to outpace your competition.

Case Study: A Local Bakery's Journey to the Top

Take, as an example, a nearby bakery that struggled to get online traffic. By utilizing SEO Synd Suite, these were able to:

Generate over 2,000 high-quality backlinks from reputable food blogs.

Achieve a first-page ranking for "best bakery in [city]."

Increase organic website visits by 300% within three months.

Such testimonials certainly are a testament for the power of SEO Synd Suite. They illustrate how businesses, irrespective of size or industry, can be helped by enhanced online visibility and increased engagement.

Conclusion: Why SEO Synd Suite Is a Must-Have

In conclusion, SEO Synd Suite stands being a pivotal asset for almost any business set on improving its digital footprint. Its mixture of powerful automation, simplicity of use, and comprehensive features help it become a vital tool within the modern marketer's arsenal. Whether you're trying to boost your organic search rankings, increase targeted traffic, or simply saving time and resources, SEO Synd Suite delivers unmatched value and results.

Don't take our word correctly; feel the transformation yourself. Check out SEO Synd Suite today and unlock the potential of your internet presence. With a risk-free 30-day money-back guarantee, there’s nothing to lose and everything to gain.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t34o35WFKfg

[makemywebsite1]

Link Building in 2023: 7 Strategies for Quality SEO

One constant in the ever-changing environment of search engine optimisation (SEO) is the importance of high-quality backlinks. Link building is still important for efficient SEO since it drives organic traffic, improves search ranks, and establishes domain authority. As we approach 2023, organisations and digital marketers must change their link-building tactics to keep up with the current trends and search engine algorithms. This thorough blog will go into seven tried-and-tested link development tactics by professional SEO company in Melbourne that prioritise quality over number, ensuring your SEO efforts are successful and long-lasting.

1. Earning Editorial Backlinks Through Content Excellence

How people obtain links for their websites has evolved throughout the years. They used to try to gain a lot of links rapidly, but now they focus on acquiring exceptional links from reputable sources by creating extremely outstanding content. This information should be useful, significant, and simple to distribute. It can include well-researched essays, images that explain things (infographics), original research that has yet to be done, and movies or slideshows that help people understand something better. These SEO in Geelong links originate from reliable sources and provide your viewers with relevant and fascinating information.

2. Guest Posting with a Purpose

Guest blogging is an effective strategy to build connections to your website, but you must exercise caution. Instead of merely looking for connections, look for areas where your work will be seen by the individuals you want to talk to. When writing guest blogs, try to assist others and demonstrate your knowledge. Gives the impression that you know a lot and can be trusted. You’ll also get relevant links to what you’re talking about.

But it’s not just about links. It’s also about offering useful information and demonstrating your expertise. So, be strategic about where you post, be helpful, and you’ll be rewarded with good SEO in Geelong results.

3. Leveraging Influencer Collaborations

Influencer marketing isn’t only for social media; it may also help you gain connections. When you collaborate with influencers and people regarded in your profession, you may obtain valuable connections from their websites or venues where they speak. When you collaborate on things like articles, interviews, or projects, you can reach out to individuals who are interested in them and receive strong links from sources that people trust. It’s similar to them sharing with their pals and receiving incentives in return. When you collaborate with these influential people, you may share information and obtain valuable links from relevant sources.

4. Reclaiming Lost Links and Mentions

As time passes, some websites may mention your brand or what you do, but they may need to include a link to your website. It’s the same as naming a buddy but not letting others know where to locate them. To correct this, watch for people who mention you without connecting to you. You may utilise tools to assist you with this.

If you discover any missing links, contact the owners of those websites to provide a link to your site. This way, individuals who read about you can visit your location. Also, ensure that any links on your site function properly. If some don’t, connect with a professional SEO company in Melbourne and make them work. Improves user experience and improves how search engines perceive your site.

5. Broken Link Building

The broken link strategy entails locating links on key websites that are no longer functional. You may then give your Itown content in place of those links. It benefits both you and the owner of the website. You receive a decent link for your site, and they get a functioning link for their viewers. You may find broken links using programs like Check My Links or Ahrefs. It’s like discovering and replacing a lost puzzle piece with your own. Everyone wins, and websites become more useful to their visitors. Using these tools and hiring SEO company in Melbourne can help identify these broken connection possibilities.

6. Creating Linkable Assets

Creating elements people want to connect to, such as informative instructions, useful toolkits, and engaging content, elevates your brand’s standing in your industry. According to SEO company in Melbourne, these are jewels that other websites like to utilise as evidence for what they’re claiming. It’s like putting a sturdy brick into a structure. The challenge is making these items meaningful, relevant to what’s vital, and enjoyable. When individuals discover these gems, they want to share them with others.

As a result, when people utilise them and tell others about them, your website will gain additional links. It’s similar to creating a garden; you plant the seeds (linkable materials), nurture them, and watch them bloom into beautiful plants (backlinks) that strengthen and increase the visibility of your website.

7. Collaborative Content and Link Roundups

Collaborate with people in your profession to create things, such as asking SEO Geelong for advice, holding group conversations, or conducting research as a group. It isn’t only about collaborating with others; it’s also about getting your work in front of more people. If you work with these buddies, they will likely tell their friends about it. It spreads your message to a much larger audience, similar to how a ripple in water spreads. They’ll even include links to your work when they share it, acting as a guidepost for others to locate it. So, collaborating with others is similar to building a tree with strong branches (backlinks) that connect you with many people and help your website expand.

To Conclude,

The SEO company in Melbourne experts say link building is a powerful method for increasing search results and driving organic traffic in the world of SEO. The focus, however, has switched from quantity to quality, needing a deliberate and planned approach. Using these seven link-building techniques for 2023 will position your website for success in an ever-changing digital world.

Remember that the key to long-term and effective link development is to provide value, create connections, and constantly publish high-quality material that organically draws authoritative backlinks.

[cyber-phobia]

Another Fic-Dump from my ao3 history/bookmarks:

Ascendant by Gentrychild

-Abandoned, but man what's there is really good. Izuku has AFO and tries to be a hero anyway... without making it look like he has a bazillion quirks XD

Known Variables by pocketramblr

-In the world we know, OFA is a closely guarded secret. But in this one? Not so much. All Might and his quirk are very much public knowledge, and he's used to fending off people who want to inherit his quirk. So when Izuku comes along, and asks instead if he could be a hero without a quirk at all...? Things change.

In spite of a Nail by Hayato (TheLennyBunny)

-I'll be 100% honest, don't remember this one but I have the link saved in my bookmarks so I think I enjoyed it.

Go from Here by AdelimeCaffrey

-Bakugo and Izuku's parents see the bullying earlier on, and decide to intervene

Crimson Murders by Melancholic_lotus13

-Quirkless, the unwilling Champion of the Dead, and the main target for a Murderer? Great comb

Izuku is the Law By FallingBackwards

-Izuku is young, and he is small. But that hasn't stopped him from being the leader of a crime-infested city district. (This one is in multiple parts)

Unnamed by Emmy984

-Class 1-A? I think you mean the 1-A killers...

How to Murder you Father by Gentrychild

-Pretty self explanatory. Izuku wants to kill his dad.

Refraction by ekourege

-Izuku is strange. But he can see the future, so maybe give him some leeway?

Different Demons (But they're all from Hell) by GriffinRose

-Eri was saved by Izuku. She settles into her new life. Izuku understands her a little better than anyone is comfortable with. (This is a Sequel)

The Perfect Successor by Athenya

-Izuku finds a man dying in an alley, and chooses to help him - despite knowing this man is a villain. It makes his life better and worse.

Dear Santa, Please Make Stain Stop Sending Me Fanmail by Try_Two_Mothman

-Izuku recieve mail from Stain. Unexpected, unusual mail...

[Content] by Teobot

-Basically my favorite MHA fic ever, though I wish it had continued to update the later continuations. Very good, very violent, very sweet Eri.

A Hero with the Mask of a Villain by SomethingOrElse

-Izuku doesn't get OFA, and turns to the League instead.

You either die a Villain or see yourself become a Hero by Fantasy_Freak2

-Class 1-A is an infamous tradition at UA high, a villain reform program for children who are walking a dangerous path or have already crossed the line. What happens when they actually try to become heroes?

As always, I am also here to provide Bleach fics (mainly of the Grimmichi or Uraichi variety) by request in my DMs. Or if you'd prefer to raid my Google docs of unfinished / barely started MHA fic ideas for your own profit instead, yall can hit me up for that too.

links below

Ascendant by Gentrychild

Known Variables by pocketramblr

In spite of a Nail by Hayato (TheLennyBunny)

Go from Here by AdelimeCaffrey

Crimson Murders by Melancholic_lotus13

Izuku is the Law By FallingBackwards

Unnamed by Emmy984

How to Murder your Father by Gentrychild

Refraction by ekourege

Different Demons (But they're all from Hell) by GriffinRose

The Perfect Successor by Athenya

Dear Santa, Please Make Stain Stop Sending Me Fanmail by Try_Two_Mothman

[Content] by Teobot

A Hero with the Mask of a Villain by SomethingOrElse

You either die a Villain or see yourself become a Hero by Fantasy_Freak2

[signedaiko]

Hi, can I request headcanons with MTMTE Megatron, Swerve and Ratchet being challenged to live for few days on Earth in their holomatter avatars with their human (girl) crush (that also has crush on them), I mean how would it look like if they try to act like normal humans, but they don't understand humans habits ( if it's not a problem, please include in it what would happend if they for some reason walk out of bathroom naked )

Megatron [MTMTE]

- The lost light had docked recently, allowing many to visit the ever evolving earth - Of course the human liaison was going to go! You had people to see and things to do and get before you left again - Megatron decided to escort you after Ravage 'persuaded' him to accompany you - More like worry the warlord to death than you might end up in danger and remind him of the dangers of the human world - Ravage may have over exaggerated...a lot - You got your hotel and travel couvered for you by the space program you worked with, and Megatron naturally stayed with you - Megatron was smart and could figure out most things - Pleasantly surprised at how nice a warm shower felt, and used one of your soaps - It smelt just like you, and relaxed him to no end - He didn't seem to understand the concept of frying off, and when he tossed his clothing back on it was SOAKED and transparent - " Are you okay, y/n? your face is red " - " Yeah uhm... let's get you dried " - One blow-dryer and an hour later he was sparkling fresh - So was the image of his shirt sticking to his toned chest in your head

Ratchet [MTMTE]

- Normally he didn't wish to participate in games aboard the LL - But the thought alone of you going on your own AND his only other option being going with the rest was too worrisome - So he took the dare with pride, and requested to accompany you - Trying human food was a pleasant surprise to him, they all tasted so peculiar - He would try all kinds of snacks with you as you indulge in treats you hadn't touched in well over a year - Once however, while you were introducing him to your friends, someone pointed out how he chewed with his mouth wide open - Quickly grabbed you to leave, he was very flustered - " You never told me, y/n " - " I didn't want to stop you! You never looked so happy! " - The grumpy bot then stuck to drinks until you returned home - But he didn't show you all the snacks he saw you enjoyed most that he piled into a crate for the ship until you had taken off ;)

Swerve [MTMTE]

- Basically initiated the dare on himself by making a bet he knew he would lose - You took very kindly to having him join you on your voyage - After the amount of media he consumed, he knew more than you! - So he seemed to adapt rather well, to most things except the lack of a laugh track - Whenever he made a joke and it was silent, the mech got pretty upset or worried something was wrong with the world - " Laugh tracks are edited in " - " They are WHAT " - Unacceptable! he gets a little device that plays a laugh track whenever he clicks a button - Very content with himself, but also with how you seem to smile when he does it - Or maybe you really do find his jokes funny! A bot can dream

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

Authors Note - I included your final request with only one because I have limited space to round around two whole events without skipping too many hot deets!!!!

[butgilinsky]

meant to be // np

warning; stress/anxiety, mentions a toxic ex but doesn't go into detail abt it, fluffy nolan, i think that's it?

summary; when you go MIA, Nolan makes sure you're okay. based on the song meant to be by bebe rexha & florida georgia line

word count; 2.8k+

a/n; this is a part of my yee haw series (all fics are stand alones, so don't worry about that) if you have any interest in checking those out too! until then, enjoy fluffy nolan

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

You were usually pretty good at telling yourself that you were blowing things out of proportion. It didn’t always stop you from doing so, but it usually talked you off a ledge. This week, it seemed that there was no talking yourself off of the ledge.

Other than the fact that you were five pages into your portfolio that you were submitting to Temple in an attempt to get into their MFA program, one that you’d been wanting to go to for years at this point, your ex had made a recent appearance in your life. As if the stress from applying to grad school wasn’t enough for you to handle, you had run straight into your ex on your way home from grabbing coffee.

It would’ve been enough if you had just run into him, if you had to exchange pleasantries with the same person who shattered your heart into so many pieces you were still recovering two years after the break up. The same person that traumatized you enough to have to put your current relationship on a speed so slow that you were sure a sloth would have moved faster.

Nolan had been patient with you, which you were beyond thankful for. He was fine with things going at a snail’s pace, given that you weren’t the only one between the two of you that had a rocky past with romantic relationships. It wasn’t news to anyone that you were together, but it had been confusing for just about everyone outside of the two of you.

There wasn’t a label on it, neither of you needed one to know where you stood. Both of you had an understanding that you were just as damaged as you were interested in each other, and working slow without any labels or the need to structure your relationship in society’s idea of normalcy was your middle ground. It allowed the two of you to breathe, without leaving a lingering doubt about how the two of you felt about each other.

People pestered the two of you about it, why you wouldn’t wear a WAGs jacket or introduce Nolan to your parents when they were in town. They didn’t get it, but they didn’t need to. You and Nolan communicated very well with one another, and if the two of you knew what was going on with everything, then nobody else needed to. Neither of you needed anyone else’s validation to be content with where the two of you stood.

But then you ran into your ex. Your shoulder collided with his on the street and while you thought you were piecing yourself back together from everything he put you through, the mere sight of him sent you down a spiral that you had avoided for as long as you possibly could.

It’s not that you missed your ex, because you didn’t. You didn’t miss him or the way he spoke to you, nor did you miss the lack of communication and being left in the dark more often than not. Seeing him made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, but everything he put you through came to the forefront of your mind, and you were unintentionally overwhelmed with the worry that you’d end up in the same scenario with Nolan one day.

You didn’t think that Nolan would hurt you, not the way you’d been hurt in the past. You trusted him more than you’ve ever trusted anyone, and he proved that he deserved that trust. It wasn’t the thought that Nolan would become the person your ex had been, but the thought that there would be a day where Nolan was your ex.

It was scary and deafening, and the reason you couldn’t finish your portfolio. You’d been writing for hours, or trying to. The chair you were sitting in had grown uncomfortable in the first hour, and you had migrated around the apartment to look for a place that didn’t hurt your ass or your back. Unfortunately you couldn’t find one, opting to sit on the floor in between your couch and your coffee table. You’d been so lost in thought that you had spent six hours without responding to anyone, not even realizing that time had gone by that quickly until you got a call.

The only reason you even saw the call was the fact that the notification popped up on your computer. You knew he knew something was up because he rarely ever facetimed you without asking if you were free first; though, if he had texted you first there was no way of you knowing with your phone in a completely different room. He only ever facetimed you unannounced when you didn’t answer your phone for a while. He knew you could answer facetime calls on your laptop, and while you weren’t always in the mood to talk to him at that moment, it was enough to get your attention and let you know that he was worried about you.

But you answered it today, regardless of the fact that you looked a mess and felt even worse. You answered because you needed him to ground you, to pull your head out of the clouds and silence the thoughts that had been buzzing in your mind for over 24 hours.

“Hey.” you forced a small smile to your lips before reaching behind you to turn on a lamp, unaware of the darkness you were encased in until now.

“You okay? You’ve been MIA all day.” you rolled your eyes gently, a playful smile playing on your lips.

“It hasn’t been all day.” you tried to assure him that he was being slightly over dramatic, but the look in his eyes told you that that was not the case.

“Y/n, it’s midnight.” that it was, though it was the first time you were realizing that. You had no idea what time it was, and sitting in front of your computer for the past six hours had not helped that fact. “What happened? Talk to me.”

“This portfolio’s just stressing me out.” he hummed, unsure that was the full reason. He could tell in the way that your forehead creased and your eyes narrowed slightly that there was more than just a little stress going on. You’d been stressed about this thing for weeks, there had to be something else that was going on with you.

“So you’re not going to tell me what’s wrong?” you sighed softly, unsure if you wanted to unpack all of that right now. “Alright. Be ready in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes? Nolan I can’t get ready in ten minutes-”

“Just put a pair of sweats on and go stand outside. I’ll be there in ten.” he hung up then, not giving you much of an option but to do as he said.

Nine minutes after Nolan hung up on you, you were standing outside, teeth chattering lightly while you bounced on the balls of your feet. The familiar car pulling up in front of you made you smile, and when you stepped up to the door you heard the lock click.

You pulled yourself into his car quickly, sighing out in relief at the warmth that encased you. Your eyes found his, a warmth spreading through your chest as you leaned over the center console to kiss him softly. He hummed against your lips, chasing you for just a moment when you pulled back. The next one lasted just a second longer, noses bumping against one another softly.

He pulled back then, moving to kiss your cheek before sitting back in his seat and moving the gear shift into drive. His right hand found its home on your thigh, the warmth from his palm radiating through your sweats and into your skin.

“Where are we going?” your voice was soft and peaceful, like the sound of home on a cold winter evening that Nolan wished he could live in forever.

“Nowhere.” he shrugged, glancing over at you for a moment to smile at you. He didn’t have a destination in mind, just driving around the city for the night. It wasn’t the first time the two of you had done this before, and you doubt it’d be the last.

These nights were your favorite; Nolan driving absolutely nowhere with his hand on your thigh and his ear offered up to you. Sometimes you didn’t talk for hours, just listened to whatever playlist the two of you chose and drove until one or both of you got too tired to continue. Sometimes you ended up hours away from home, which got the two of you (usually Nolan) into trouble from time to time.

“What’s up, what’s rotting your mind?” you leaned your head onto his shoulder, wanting to be close to him more than anything right now.

“It’s stupid.” you whispered gently.

His hand moved up from your thigh to cup the underside of your jaw. He moved towards you, eyes still locked on the road while his lips pecked yours softly. It was cheesy and a bit awkward, but it wasn’t the first time he’d done something like that. It was meant to soothe you, and it did. Nolan wasn’t a man of many words but his actions always spoke loud enough for you to hear him clearly.

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.” his voice was as gentle as his heart, something you loved dearly about him. He wasn’t pushy or demanding, rather patient and gentle.

“I ran into Kai yesterday.” his muscles tensed, along with his hand gripping your thigh just a little tighter than it previously had been. It wasn’t a huge change but you picked up on it, along with the way his jaw clenched and he sighed through his nose.

Nolan had never met Kai, and you hoped he never would. Not because you thought Nolan would kill him or anything, but because you wished that nobody in your current life had to ever interact with people from your past. Kai knew a completely different person than the one Nolan knew, and you didn’t want to be the person you used to be. You didn’t want Nolan to be subjected to hearing about her or the life she previously led.

“Did he say something to you?” you didn’t expect much different from him. He’d always been a safe amount of protective. He wasn’t the type to run out of the house at the first sound of danger and pummel everyone into the ground, he just wanted to make sure you were alright. He wouldn’t put a bounty out on Kai, but if he did or said something that was still bothering you, he’d do everything he possibly could to make you feel better.

“I mean yes, but not in the way that you’re thinking. It wasn’t what he said it’s just,” you sighed, one that made your cheeks puff out and your eyes flutter shut for a moment.

“It’s just that now you’re scared that that’s how we’ll end up.” you lifted your head off of his shoulder, looking at him with narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow.

“How’d you learn how to read minds? That’s a pretty cool party trick, you know?” he laughed gently and tapped the inside of your thigh while shaking his head at you. You always tried to lighten the mood by making small little jokes out of things and while some people found it to be unbearable, Nolan loved every single second of it.

“I wish I could read your mind, it’d make things a lot easier most of the time.” you rolled your eyes but laughed, finding truth in his words.

“I just don’t want history to repeat itself, you know? I’m just scared that the things I’ve been trying to avoid are inevitable. What if they happen anyway? What if everything I’ve been working for is useless and everything i’ve run from is my destiny?” Nolan sighed softly and pulled into a parking garage, one that you weren’t familiar with.

“Everything you and Kai went through, stays between the two of you. I’m not him, and I’ll never be him. I won’t say we’ll never fight, because I obviously can’t guarantee that. We’ll fight, everyone does, but we’ll get past it. We’ll survive it all. That, I can assure you. I can promise you that I would never treat you the way that that douche did.”

He doesn’t promise you the world, nor does he promise to shoot for the stars. He doesn’t promise that things will always be alright, but that’s what you love about Nolan. He doesn’t set unrealistic expectations. He doesn’t tell you what you want to hear just to make you feel better. He’ll do a lot of things to make you feel better, but lying to you isn’t one of them.

“If it’s meant to be, it’ll be, you know? You just have to let it be, which you’re not entirely skilled at.” you punch his arm softly just as he parks at the top of the parking garage that’s almost completely empty.

“What if what it’s meant to be isn’t what I want it to be, though?” Nolan shook his head gently and turned towards you, a soft smile sitting on his lips.

“It won’t be at times, but that doesn’t mean it won’t ever be. If people could write out their lives exactly like they wanted them to be, nobody’s lives would align. You have to let things play out, baby, and I know that’s the scariest thing about life itself, but it’ll work out. If it’s meant to be, I promise it’ll be.”

Your lips move before your mind can catch up. You’re so immersed in him, neck deep in whatever he’s cooked up for you, but you don’t try to get out. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. You didn’t think that anyone could be so perfectly hand crafted, treated with such care that even his flaws were beautiful. You didn’t plan on telling him you loved him, didn’t plan on saying the words that have done nothing but haunt you for the last few years.

“I love you.” it comes out in a breath, like it’s lifted a weight off of your shoulders.

He can tell you didn’t mean to say it, because your eyes blow wide open and your lips part in a way that he can tell you’ve spoken out of impulse rather than preparation. Your cheeks are hot and your hands shake just enough for Nolan to reach for one of them and hold it tightly in his own.

He’s smiling, which is as confusing as the small laugh that he lets out. It’s confusing and almost angering, but you don’t have time to ask because the second your brow furrows, he’s tumbling out an explanation for his reaction.

“I love you too. Have for a while, probably always will.” it melts your heart that’s sunk into your stomach. You’re not sure what you did that made the universe gift you with Nolan, though you believe it to be something between adopting a child in a past life or buying a woman’s order at Taco Bell when she forgot her wallet at home.

He expects you to say something else, maybe ask if he’s joking or not, but you don’t. You’re frozen in your spot, tears building up in your eyes that make Nolan meet you over the center console and pull you into his chest. He doesn’t know exactly why you’re so emotional, but he has a feeling it has to do with your traumatic past and the fear that others have installed in you. He just wants you to be happy, especially if he gets to stick around to make it happen himself.

“I love you so much, and it’s fucking terrifying.” he kisses the top of your head, his hand moving up and down your back in the most soothing pattern he can come up with.

“I know, and I’m scared too. Maybe we always will be, but we can’t spend too much time worrying about it or else we won’t get to experience it. We’ll ruin it for ourselves, and I don’t want to do that.” you shook your head, your silent way of telling him that you don’t want to do that either. You wanted to let yourself cherish falling in love with Nolan.

“If it’s meant to be, it’ll be, right?” he smiles down at you, one of the widest smiles you’ve ever seen him present. You store it in your memory, hoping you’d never forget the sight of him smiling at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the word.

“That’s right, baby. And I have a pretty good feeling about us.”

-

nolpat taglist; @extratragic @babytkachuks @teenagekook @stfukie @kiedhara @sadcupofcoffee @sidscrosbyy @rebel-without-care @baby-cat-nol-pat @creator-appreciator @aasimarr @bucky-ish @immmbabyyygraceee @neenaw-neenaw @shawnsreputation @pierreslucdubois @yungbeezy @tortito @dmonchld @beauvibaby @honeybearbarzal

[leiawritesstories]

Speak To My Heart

Rowaelin Month, Day 15: A bad day

Word count: 3422

Warnings: language, bit of depression, fighting. In short, there is angst in this fic. Hope the ending makes up for the rest.

Linguistics and foreign languages are two of my personal passions, so please bear with the bits of language talk that I couldn’t resist including. Brief word of clarification: a lot of expressions we use in English either translate into something extremely rude or don’t make sense in other languages. Translation companies have been trying for quite some time to make sure they don’t accidentally send a client a translated instruction manual that reads “fuck your mother” instead of “for questions, contact your local energy department.” All right I’ll get off my soapbox. :)

The phrases in foreign languages, marked with *, are translated into English at the end. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rowan’s day had been shit. The second he walked through the door, he’d been bombarded with an endless slew of crash reports, malfunctioning equipment, faulty passwords, and best of all, having to rewrite half the security firewalls because one of the rash young idiots in his department couldn’t be bothered to check his work for errors before sending it to management. And management thought it was the department boss’s job to fix all of his employees’ fuckups.

He hated IT.

Even more so since being promoted to department chair. 

All he wanted to do was the fun stuff--program design and development, fixing the flaws in his own designs, and of course making those who tried to break into his company’s systems regret their pitiful existence. But Cadre Tech’s bitch of a CEO refused to let the best software engineer on her staff actually do his job. 

Most days, he could cope with the pile of useless shit she directed to his desk. Most days. Today was not one of those days. Probably because on top of all the meaningless tasks he’d had to field, he was also forced to sit through one of Maeve’s bullshit “department head strategy sessions,” where every department chair had to pretend they gave a single shit about any word coming from their CEO’s garishly red, pinched mouth. 

As if she knew anything her staff actually did. 

Thanks to the compulsory meeting, Rowan was stuck in his office at nearly ten o’clock, painstakingly combing through the final draft of the update to CT’s translation program. This program had shot the company to fame and fortune, or at least insane stock value. “A Google Translate that actually translates,” their marketing department called it, and by the gods, that stupid slogan worked. And made sense. Rowan knew the program was just as good as it claimed to be.

He’d put in the hours, alongside a team of linguists, software engineers, designers, and people fluent in at least one other language. Frequent were the sessions where the project whiteboard turned into a jumble of words in twenty or more languages, Spanish alongside Arabic next to a column of simplified Japanese characters spilling over into a row of Cyrillic lettering. Rowan himself spoke German and some Spanish, but even he was lost amid the cacophony of eighteen different people switching from language to language, trying to figure out how idiomatic expressions translated from one language to another and what words should never, ever be placed together. 

It took the team well over a year of bickering, or as they called it, friendly linguistic disagreements, to make it from loosely mapped concept to functioning program. By the time it hit the market three years ago, the software had been so well promoted that companies all over the world snapped up their chance to finally communicate properly with the client they’d offended years ago with a bad translation. 

At launch, of course, Maeve stood in front of a sea of shouting reporters brandishing microphones, smiling her serpentine smile, and proceeded to thank the creative team for all their “contributions” before taking all the credit herself. 

Said creative team went to the bar that had become their usual gathering spot that night to get drunk and shit-talk their horrible boss, not necessarily in that order. 

His favorite memory of that night was hearing the chief linguist, an outside contract with multiple advanced degrees who spoke eight separate languages besides English fluently, refer to Maeve as “quella puttana rugosa che non riusciva a convincere un cazzo a venire a dieci metri da lei se si vestiva da figa.*” The Italian speakers on the team were crying with laughter, and so was everyone else, once she translated it.

And then she downed another shot of vodka and hissed something that sounded like “sukya bliyad, no puedo mich betrinken con esta ordures.**” When everyone blinked in confusion, she sighed and relayed the sentiment in English. 

Nobody had laughed as hard as Rowan. Aelin Galathynius just had that effect on him.

She brightened his darkest days.

But she couldn’t ease the strain of today.

And it was all his fault.

~

Aelin glanced up at the clock on her wall and cursed in three different languages when she saw that it was nearly eleven. Without meaning to, she’d spent all afternoon and evening writing lesson notes on idiomatic expressions. She really couldn’t help herself once she got into the topic; it was her pet project.

And the subject of one of her dissertations. Yes, she had multiple. 

She’d worked her ass off for years to get through college, then through graduate and doctoral work while teaching at universities to offset costs, then earned a full-time teaching position at one of the top-ranked universities in the world. She got to teach linguistics, her lifetime love, and give guest lectures at other universities and at conferences, teaching people all over the world about the complexities and interrelatedness of language. Hell, she spoke ten; she’d be qualified to speak on linguistic relationships by virtue of that alone.

Gods, she was the chief linguist behind the most successful translation software ever produced. Even if the bitch who owned the rights to said software had literally threatened to sue over ownership rights if any of the people who’d poured their figurative blood and sweat and literal tears into building the program tried to claim a small piece of the credit each of them so richly deserved. 

That software and her role in its creation--even though Maeve Ond had claimed the public credit, the creative team spoke at interviews and made news features for their work in Cadre Tech’s massive success--had solidified her credentials as a professor of linguistics, had boosted her into her lecturer spot.

Last year, her university granted her tenure. 

She should have been overjoyed, and she was, but not as much as earning tenure deserved. 

Because there was nobody to share her joy.

Three years ago, in the wake of CT’s overnight jump to worldwide fame, Aelin fled a love she did not and never would deserve. 

She told herself she would never look back. But she did. Almost every day, she looked back at the life she’d shared with Rowan and tried to convince herself that she did the right thing.

Try as she might, she could never silence the whisper that echoed always in her mind. 

“You broke both of your hearts” 

Someday, she told herself, someday she would be back in Doranelle. Someday, she would have a chance to apologize. Someday, maybe she could fix the Rowan-shaped chasm that gaped wide in her heart. 

Yet here she was, sitting in a very nicely appointed hotel room in the university district of Doranelle, typing furiously away as if burying herself in notes and prep for tomorrow’s lecture could make the urge to contact Rowan disappear.

~

Three years earlier. Doranelle.

“Knock, knock.”

Rowan’s head jerked up from where it had most definitely not been slumped on his desk. “Wha--Oh. Hi, Aelin.”

“You’re falling asleep, buzzard, let’s go home.” He heard laughter in her soft voice. 

“As if you won’t just get home and start cross-checking every single one of the phrases on your ‘potential problem’ list.”

She chuckled, walking over to him. “Fine. We’re both perfectionist work whores. Doesn’t mean we don’t need sleep.”

“I know you too well to believe you’re actually going to sleep.”

“All right, you win. Come home now, I’ll make some food, and you can put me to bed.” She winked saucily at him, leaving very little doubt what putting her to bed would entail, and he was up out of his chair in seconds. 

“Hand over your computer, Fireheart,” he grinned as they walked into the small house they shared on the outskirts of the city. 

“What?”

“Your computer, love. I’m leaving both of our work bags on the shelf by the front door so we can actually catch some rest tonight.” He pressed a finger to her mouth to silence her protests. “Uh-uh, Ae, we have interviews tomorrow and I won’t let the genius behind this program’s flawless word-to-word be anything but well-rested.”

She sighed, but he saw the love in her eyes. “Here, then, my dear brilliant software engineer. Leave your notebook, too, because I know if it’s anywhere near you, you’ll be up at three in the morning scribbling blocks of gibberish and picking apart your faultless code until you go insane.”

Both of their work satisfactorily put aside, Aelin made good on her promise to cook Rowan dinner. 

And then he made very good on his promise to put her to bed. 

The next morning, they were both awake with the sunrise, content to lay curled in each other’s arms as the morning light spread across their room.

Rowan drifted back into sleep, waking for good when he caught a whiff of coffee from the kitchen’s direction. 

“Morning, you sleepy buzzard,” Aelin grinned, sipping from her mug.

Rowan dropped a kiss on her head as he reached for his mug. He took a long drink, sighing as the milky, sweetened caffeine hit his mouth. 

“I will never understand how you drink your coffee black, Fireheart.”

“Not all of us need to sweeten the hell out of coffee to drink it, Ro. Maybe if you can’t handle the real thing, you should go back to your pretty little cups of crappy cafe tea.”

“Mention my pretty little teacups again, Ae…”

She giggled. “You be quiet and drink your coffee-flavored milk, my love.  We both know you’re impossibly grumpy until you have caffeine in your veins.”

He grumbled something unintelligible as he drank his coffee.

They were nearly late to work that morning, even having planned an extra half hour to arrive, thanks to Aelin wearing what Rowan dubbed her “sexy professor suit.” She fixed the pins in her French twist in the car, making herself once again a portrait of professionalism, and slipped Rowan’s hand from her leg.

“Two hands on the wheel, Whitethorn.”

He pouted. “But I’m a safe driver and I want to hold your hand.”

“My hands are over here, love, not down by my skirt.”

When he pulled into his spot, Aelin closed her eyes and took a deep, slow breath. 

“You good, Fireheart?”

Gods, she loved hearing him call her that. “Yeah. I just…needed a moment to settle myself. To tell myself the cameras aren’t here to tear apart what I say.”

Rowan wrapped his hands around hers. “Dr. Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, the bland reporters are here to stand in awe of your expertise. Not a single word you say will come across as anything but brilliant and beautifully said.”

She squeezed his hands, her usual confidence returning. “I love you, buzzard.”

“I love you too, Fireheart. Let’s go talk about our amazing achievement.”

The day sped by in a blur of reporters, interviewers, teleprompters, practiced speeches, lights, cameras, and crew. When the last bleached-blonde anchor of the last interview of the day cut her crew’s cameras, Aelin flopped against her second-in-linguistic-command, Dr. Nehemia Ytger, the expert on ethnic African languages. 

“If I never see a news crew again, it’ll be too soon,” she sighed. “I’m beat.”

Nehemia snickered. “But we’re done talking about how proud we are that Maeve and her marvelous company have done such a grand service to the world.”

Aelin snorted softly. “Right. And now we servicepeople want to go home and take off our heels.”

“Amen to that.”

As the team filed out of the studio, Rowan made his way over to Aelin. “Holding up?”

“Not anymore,” she said, leaning casually into his side. “My heels are killing me, there’s a hairpin stabbing into my scalp, and I really, really need to pee.”

Rowan laughed, deep and husky. “Let’s get you home, then.”

“I’m stopping in the bathroom first.”

Just before she left the ladies’ room, Aelin heard voices in the break area. Familiar voices--Rowan’s, Maeve’s, and the snippy, borderline whiny tones of Remelle Frelau, who worked in the marketing department and had a hell of a boner for Rowan. 

“--looking at revenue over--” Maeve’s voice cut out, but from the gasps of the other two, the revenue was through the roof. 

“And it’s all thanks to this genius here,” drawled Remelle, who if Aelin had her guess was probably clinging onto Rowan like a platinum-blonde leech. 

“Ms. Frelau, this was the product of a team. No single person could possibly have made it happen alone.”

“Oh, call me Remelle, or even better Remy. And you’re the team leader, so you practically did create it by yourself.”

Aelin snickered to herself. Vapid bitch had no idea what she was saying. 

“That’s not how teams work, Ms. Frelau. We wouldn’t be here without Dr. Galathynius and Dr. Ytger’s language expertise, not to mention the creative genius of the engineers, graphic designers, linguists, and programmers.”

“Ms. Frelau, though her judgment is clearly biased, has a point, Mr. Whitethorn,” Mave said. “You demonstrated remarkable collaborative leadership qualities throughout this project, and I fully expect that you will continue to do so.” Maeve’s heels clicked away. Rowan’s voice followed her.

“Thank you, Ms. Ond, but I have to credit Dr. Galathynius--”

“Will you stop kissing that woman’s ass?” snorted Remelle. “Gods, she’s not worth your time or your praise; all she does is translate words into different languages and you idiots drool over that like it means anything.”

Aelin jerked like she’d been slapped. She knew Remelle was a self-centered, shallow, spiteful bitch, but she hadn’t known she would do this.

“--did more for this project than you and your useless whiteboard of catchphrases,” growled Rowan. 

“I don’t care what she ‘did for the project,’ Rowan, she’s never going to be good enough for you.”

“Thank you for caring about my welfare, Frelau, now please kindly fuck off.”

Aelin chose that moment to saunter out of the bathroom and head straight for Rowan, her face showing no hint of having heard that conversation. She did note with satisfaction Remelle’s vain attempt to march out of the room with some semblance of dignity. Too bad her heel caught on the seam of the hallway carpet and the break room’s tile flooring and she had to grab the doorframe to keep from collapsing. 

“You’re awfully quiet, Aelin.”

“Just thinking. Processing, really. It’s been a hell of a day.”

Rowan nodded. “I bet.”

“And hearing fucking Remelle rip into me for being useless…didn’t make it better.”

“Shit, you heard that?”

“Yeah. I heard that.” Her voice was hollow. 

Rowan pulled into their driveway and shut off the engine. Reaching across the console, he cupped Aelin’s face in his hands. “Aelin. You are brilliant. You are terrifyingly smart. You are a force of nature. Nothing, nothing you will ever do is useless. Don’t let that jealous bitch make you think you are less than the perfect woman.”

She smiled tentatively at him. “She…she told me before that last interview that I could never be enough for you. Because you--because of Lyria.”

Rowan raked a hand through his hair. “Ae, can we talk about this inside?”

That night, he told her about his former fiancé, Lyria. He told her about their whirlwind romance, their youthful dreams. He told her about the horrific crash that stole away Lyria’s life. A drunk trucker, a narrow pass in the mountains. He showed her the box in which he kept all the memories of that life. He cried. Aelin cried. He curled against her, let her comfort him.

“Sometimes, I wish she was still here. She’d understand everything. She always did.”

Aelin had no response. She let Rowan fall asleep, his weight shifting off her and into his bed, and looked through the box. Everything she saw served as another reminder that this was the first woman he loved, the woman who understood everything. 

She was worthy of him. 

But was Aelin?

The more she looked at Rowan and Lyria’s happiness, the more the answer solidified. 

No.

When Rowan woke up the next morning, Lyria’s box sat on Aelin’s side of the bed, a side that had not held Aelin.

He glanced out the window.

Her car was gone.

He got up and frantically paced through the house.

Everything she’d brought into his home was gone.

As was she.

~

Present day. 

Rowan opened his front door mechanically, pulled off his shoes, dropped his work backpack on its shelf, and was halfway to his bedroom before he realized he’d just opened his front door. His front door that was always locked. 

Someone was in his house.

Someone who either had a duplicate key or insanely good lockpicking skills.

Exactly one person owned a duplicate key to his house.

Aelin.

That’s impossible, she lives in Orynth, she can’t be here, he told the traitorous part of his brain that leapt with joy at seeing Aelin’s face again.

He turned around and made his way through the kitchen--nobody there--to the living room. He flicked on a lamp, casting a soft light around the room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

Aelin Galathynius sat on his couch. 

For a moment, he just gawked at her. She looked so…different. Older. Gone was the infectious smile that had captured his heart. Dark shadows smeared under her eyes, testament both to the long hours she devoted to her work and to recent sleepless nights. She was twisting a ring on her right hand, a familiar sign of her nerves. From his angle, Rowan could see a hint of dark script on her wrist. A tattoo. The Aelin he knew didn’t have tattoos.

“I’m not a ghost.” Her voice, weary and hollow, broke the tense silence.

Rowan crossed the room, propped an arm on the fireplace. “Why?”

“Why am I here? Why did I leave? Why did I cut you out of my life?”

“Everything.” He couldn’t keep the waver from his voice, but his eyes burned into hers.

She took a steadying breath. “I’m here to apologize, first of all. I’m here to face what I ruined and to try and start mending it. I’m here to come to terms with everything I broke when I left three years ago.”

Whatever he’d expected her to say, it certainly wasn’t that.

“I’m sorry, Rowan. I’m sorry I left like that. I was…I was scared.”

“You can’t just run away from your fears, Aelin!” He couldn’t keep the frustration from his tone. “You can’t just abandon someone when you have a bad day!”

“I’m sorry! I know I shouldn’t have left! I know I can’t run from my fears; I’ve spent the last three years trying and fucking failing to do that! But I don’t know what else to do.”

“Saying something about it would have been a good first step.” 

“I’m bad at emotions, Rowan. I tried. It wasn’t enough.”

“That’s not a good enough excuse.”

Aelin flicked a tear from her face. “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry, Rowan. I should never have left. I let some stupid comment root into my head and make me doubt myself. I made myself believe I would never be good enough for you. I left you. I loved you, and I still left you. I still love you, even though I’ve tried to suppress it. I can never make up for that. I…I just wanted to tell you how much I’ve regretted that horrible decision all these years. I want you to be happy, Rowan, I--”

“How am I supposed to be happy without a source?” He’d dropped onto the couch, close enough to touch her but still keeping his distance.

“What?”

“You didn’t just take yourself away, Aelin. You were my happiness. I’ve spent three fucking years trying to make myself believe I’m better without you in my life, and I can’t.”

She was unabashedly crying by that point. “What do you want me to do? How can I make up for abandoning you?”

“Stay.”

Her gaze locked onto his, both of their eyes pooling with tears.

“Stay with me, Fireheart.”

“But--”

“I never stopped loving you either.”

A choked sob ripped out of Aelin. Rowan couldn’t hold himself in check any longer; he reached out and tugged her gently into his arms. To his shock, she didn’t resist, burying her face into his chest as sobs shook her shoulders. When she calmed, he tilted her chin up.

“Will you stay, Aelin?”

“Yes. Even though I will never deserve your forgiveness, yes.”

~

Translations:

* = “that pinched old whore who couldn’t convince a dick to come within ten metres of her if she dressed up provocatively” (Italian)

** = loosely translated as “Fucking hell, I can’t get drunk off this garbage.” (in order, Russian (badly phonetically spelled out because Rowan POV), Spanish, German, Spanish again, French) (the Russian doesn’t directly translate, so it could mean several different variations of expletive)

~

Might there be a second part? Perhaps......