#hindsight is better than foresight

[howifeltabouthim]

What a damn stupid thing to do, he thought, now that he was in the land of consequences.

Iris Murdoch, from The Philosopher’s Pupil

[catilinas]

not even the first of the romans can learn his roman history in the future tense […] hindsight as foresight makes no sense 🤝 we are trapped in meanings that circulate like blood 🤝 the past will lead on, saying nothing more than what it has already ceased to say

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

you don't have to answer this if you don't want to but what do you think about Yuu who alr knows Disney and is a bit of a better strategist than canon!Yuu? Like this Yuu would know from the first dream-vision they had that they mirror reality the next day and so whenever they wake up the next day after having these dreams and write down IMMEDIATELY about what happened and try to correlate it as much as they can to reality so they can strategize this way?? Added bonus if they know they're perceived as a weak, helpless magicless student and use it to their advantage so that others constantly underestimate them too!!

Well firstly, I think someone has most likely written this kind of fanfiction before. It’s pretty common to “novelize” the main story but specifically featuring one’s own Yuu variant and/or to do a “fix” or canon divergent story. Not my thing so I just skip over those, but I’m certain I’ve at least skimmed fic summaries of this nature.

Secondly, I don’t think it would make sense narratively (even for a more intelligent and proactive Yuu that has knowledge of Disney lore) to automatically suspect that their dreams correlate with real life events and that they should be alert for parallels. It’s assuming a lot of them, including that they’d have the hindsight before their first dream that their dreams are somehow prophetic. (I’m not counting time travel or time loop theory here, only what we know is canon right now.) That’s not really strategizing then, it’s jumping the gun and assuming that they’re a seer without enough cause to believe in it. Has this happened before to them in their original world? But dreams are rarely ever so closely associate with the things playing out 1:1 in the waking world. Why would Yuu develop this belief then??? I think they’d realistically start putting the pieces together maybe book 3 because 1 time (book 1) may just be coincidence + they wouldn’t be suspicious of anything, 2 times (book 2) is establishing a pattern, and then 3 times (book 3) would be enough times to firmly believe establish said pattern. It wouldn’t happen right off the bat.

I also feel like this kind of Yuu would not work for the current (canon) story TWST wants to tell. Having all of this information and/or going out of their way to prevent things from happening because of their foresight might just cascade into many events not playing out at all, even if only halfway through the main book. It means they’d be highly wary of many characters and could successfully avoid the pitfalls they glimpse in their dreams. They could seek out the “villains” of their dreams, deduce the issue, smooth things out sooner, prevent OBs altogether. Very, very different events might play out. (And if the main story manages to stay roughly the same in spite of all the measures this Yuu takes, then what was the point of telling it all with this intentional smarter and more actionable Yuu to begin with???) Diverging from canon happens all the time in fan creations, as I’ve said earlier—and again, there’s nothing wrong with this. I just don’t know of this would “work” with the current set up without deviating considerably at a certain point.

As for Yuu being perceived as a “weak, helpless magicless student” who “uses it to their advantage so others underestimate them too”… I feel like this is already done in canon, but very subtly and definitely relies a lot on player interpretation of what “kind” of Yuu they want to be. It’s already implied that Yuu is the strategist for battles, so they offer support in this way. Additionally, many characters recognize them for talents which lie beyond their magicless status. This includes the headmaster, who declares that Yuu has the makings of a beast tamer, and Rook, who gives Yuu the nickname “Trickster” for their cleverness. I believe that Yuu was even chosen to go for the harp in Beans Day because Jade was aware that the Monsters would underestimate Yuu and prioritize going after him, who is the more obvious threat. The world and its characters seem to constantly be telling us about Yuu’s strengths outside of a magical context, but they leave how Yuu actually makes use of their helplessness open ended for players to project as they like onto them.

It’d definitely be interesting to see a Yuu that leans into and plays up their weaknesses, but I also think that it would require a skilled writer to successfully pull that off. If not done well, the Yuu may come off as more whiny/desperate or too pompous and locked in their own self-aggrandizing head space. Maybe we’ll get a Yuu that strategizes with their deliberate helplessness in a future installment of the manga? Could be interesting!

[mydearlybeloathed]

OLD MASTERLIST

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜. ♡

➼ moodswings

in which the hormones attack. zoro x f!reader, sanji x f!reader, luffy x f!reader

𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲 ♡

➼ are you still sad?

luffy had always been more observant than you gave him credit for. f!reader

➼ i remember thinking i had you **

you'd always had a feeling luffy's dreams would outgrow you, but when that day finally arrives, you're not as prepared as you'd thought you'd be. now he's willing to take a chance to make his dream come true, fully believing you're right behind him. you have a decision to make: risk everything for the boy who means everything, or set him free of your doubts. gn!reader, multi part fic, opla!luffy

𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 ♡

➼ flavors of home *

in which even though you've been rescued, you're homesick. a certain pirate chef is more than willing to help cure the ailment. f!reader

➼ we are never getting back together (?) *

in which you, now a successful singer, and sanji, now a pirate, reunite unexpectedly when you return to baratie for a one night only performance. f!reader

𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢'𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐚 ♡

➼ my sister, my responsibility **

even as you grow older, you'll always be his baby sister.

➼ another birthday down the drain

you would have thought your birthday would keep zeff and sanji from bickering—well, you thought wrong.

𝐳𝐨𝐫𝐨 ♡

➼ get some sleep

you just can't get to sleep thanks to a terrible rainstorm terrorizing the ship. luckily, your tossing and turning inspired nami with an idea: just go sleep with the swordsman. f!reader

➼ got me spinning like a ballerina

in which zoro doesn't dance, but he has no issue in watching you twirl yourself off your feet. so long as you twirl back to him when your feet get tired. f!reader

➼ sail again **

once upon a time, you'd weaseled your way into the demon pirate hunter's confidance, and maybe even his heart too. but one bounty gone wrong leads to you being left behind, and you just can't understand why. f!reader, opla

𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜. ♡

➼ hindsight * foresight

in which your death brings the heroes of olympus back together, after nearly a decade of fighting. f!reader

➼ a fatal habit

in which nico intends to prove that your habit could kill you. platonic!gn!reader

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐡 ♡

➼ surprise

in which annabeth has a birthday surprise for percy.

➼ spider slayer

in which mortal!annabeth really doesn’t like spiders, and is lucky to find someone willing to fight them for her.

𝐣𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ♡

➼ clear sight * 

in which you do some late night investigating in the woods near your house. f!mortal!reader

➼ a loss for words

in which you and jason have a moment alone over the city. gn!reader

➼ a camp halfblood christmas **

in which you thought creating a real life frosty the snowman for estelle blofis, a regular camp visitor. it goes... unexpectedly. f!reader

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 ♡

➼ goner

in which the castellan that stayed has a hard time at camp. f!castellan!reader

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜. ♡

➼ granger danger *

in which hermione’s time turner malfunctions.

𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 ♡

➼ frostbite *

in which sirius better have a very good reason for being late to your date. f!reader

➼ sleepless nights

in which sirius, a year after azkaban, is still suffering from nightmares. gn!reader

➼ sunday mornings *

in which you and sirius have always bonded over what you might just love more than each other: your hair. f!reader

𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧 ♡

➼ my boyfriend's back

after rejecting a boy in your hometown, he goes around spreading rumors about you and him. luckily, you have full faith in your wizard boyfriend, who just so happens to be coming back form his fancy wizard school in just a few days. gn!muggle!reader

𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐫

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐦 ♡

➼ rainshowers *

in which neteyam is more affectionate than you’re used to. fem!omaticaya!reader

𝐥𝐨'𝐚𝐤 ♡

➼ grounded

in which you have nothing better to do than fix your lover’s hair. fem!omaticaya!reader

𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜.

𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚 ♡

➼ dating jim headcanon

➼ the sword on the table **

in which whilst in the depths of the heroes forge armory, you and your friends come across a peculiar sword that has a mind of its own. gn!reader, hinted jim x reader

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ♡

➼ the accidental confession

in which those three little words finally slip out steve harrington x f!reader

𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧 ♡

➼ an evening out

in which you’re a princess visiting camelot, and both you and arthur are aware that a marriage is likely in the works arthur x princess!reader, wip

𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 ♡

➼ selenophile

in which ondine beck doesn't believe in monsters... until she doesn't have much of a choice. liam dunbar x fem!oc, hiatus

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐬 ♡

➼ star boy's lament

in which the more important things could wait till morning. for now, it’s only you and him and the sky. ezra bridger x f!reader

➼ not it!

a simple day on the ghost goes awry as chores are assigned, and the age old law of Not It is enacted. ghost crew x gn!reader

[sashayed]

A Word on Statistics

Out of every hundred people

those who always know better: fifty-two.

Unsure of every step: almost all the rest.

Ready to help, if it doesn't take long: forty-nine.

Always good, because they cannot be otherwise: four—well, maybe five.

Able to admire without envy: eighteen.

Led to error by youth (which passes): sixty, plus or minus.

Those not to be messed with: forty and four.

Living in constant fear of someone or something: seventy-seven.

Capable of happiness: twenty-some-odd at most.

Harmless alone, turning savage in crowds: more than half, for sure.

Cruel when forced by circumstances: it's better not to know, not even approximately.

Wise in hindsight: not many more than wise in foresight.

Getting nothing out of life except things: thirty (though I would like to be wrong).

Doubled over in pain and without a flashlight in the dark: eighty-three, sooner or later.

Those who are just: quite a few at thirty-five.

But if it takes effort to understand: three.

Worthy of empathy: ninety-nine.

Mortal: one hundred out of one hundred— a figure that has never varied yet.

Wisława Szymborska from Miracle Fair, 2002

[carminavulcana]

My first Salaar fic :)

Summary- They say hindsight is 20/20. In the violent, blood-soaked world of Khansaar, hindsight is for the weak, while foresight is the weapon of the strong.

What happens when the wronged prince pays the price for daring to disrupt this balance?

He reflects. He regrets.

Snippet:

Varadha Rajamannar remembered how anxiety had settled in the pit of his stomach like an immovable rock, at the thought that there was a chance Deva would refuse to come with him. It had been a legitimate fear too.

25 years was a long time. In some ways, it was an entire lifetime— a lifetime in which Deva had lived a life filled with melancholy, experiences, and that quiet resilience that was so definably his. And he, Varadha, had spent that quarter of a century waiting.

In hindsight, that had been a rather stupid thing to do. Mad men waited for ghosts from their past. And Varadha should have known better than to give in to a moment of madness.

But insanity wasn’t unique to him, was it?

[tainbocuailnge]

The way you talked about Setanta sorta-kinda reminds me of Elizabeth in a lot of ways, namely the trying to distance themselves from what they'd become if I'm not misunderstanding.

I think elizabeth is a different situation (though hers IS similar to draco's), this one is more like shirou clashing with archer because he doesn't grasp the reality of their ideal. it's not that setanta wants to avoid becoming his future self, it's that he lacks the maturity to understand or accept what it takes to become his future self. he was never good at not being himself, cu chulainn grew up to be the person he wanted to be when he was setanta and setanta wants to become a cu chulainn he can be proud to be. but the living setanta had to simply do his best while the servant has the foresight of hindsight and he struggles to reconcile the life he lived with the one he imagined he'd live, and in particular the way he died with how he thought he'd die.

I don't think he's consciously trying to distance himself from his death. i think his focus on still being in training and wanting to become stronger before he feels like he can use the name cu chulainn is rooted in childishly reasoning "I'll just become a better cu chulainn then". if it were him he would simply not lose to medb. if it were him he would simply save everyone and do everything right. he's too immature to understand how he could have let things get so out of hand that he had to meet his end disgraced by many broken geasa and tied to a rock to stay upright. he accepted a gruesome death when he took up arms despite cathbad's prophecy warning against it but now that he knows what that death ended up being he's subconsciously recoiling and going "really? that gruesome? can't I do better than that?"

[candor-creator]

gods are not people. gods are stories.

when the Greeks created Zeus and Hera, they did not create them with the thought that people thousands of years later would declare their relationship atrocious and their actions cruel. they didn't write these characters with the idea that they should be scolded for punishing victims.

because gods are not people. Hera is marriage. beyond the goddess of marriage. she Is Marriage.

if you do not respect your marriage, terrible things will happen to you. to tell a story and to make their world clearer, the Greeks attributed those terrible things to Hera. do not break your oaths, or Hera will punish you.

if you are inhospitable, trouble will find you. a tyrant king will be toppled by the angry army of peasants crushed beneath him. a thief of renown shall be hunted down by those they've robbed and they will lose everything they once had. attack those around you who trust you, and hell shall follow. they named this hell Zeus.

with this in mind, I wanted to talk about the deities of Hallownest.

The Pale King gives the gift of mind to those who live in his kingdom, has the ability to predict the future, was an engineer, a researcher, and he was very, very, prideful. egotistical. he fully believed his kingdom would never fall, better than all the rest. he believed his plans to protect his land would succeed. he made countless sacrifices and was full of regret. he made innumerable mistakes, but remains beloved by his people, who endlessly called out to him when he vanished. he holds affection for his wife, his home, his people, his children. he gave a gift to someone he believed did not care for him, and crafted a memorial for them when they were sacrificed.

the pale king is the Mind. he is the concept of thinking highly of one's self, thinking one can do no wrong, he is pride and joy, he is curiosity, he is embarrassment and regret and shame and mistakes and fumbles and learning and growing, he is memory and he is hindsight and he is foresight, forethought, carefully considering every option on the path ahead, he is grief and he is love and he is the inability to cope with loss and he is the inability to understand the finality of death and he is the hope that things will never change and everything will be comfortable just as it is forever. he is Mind.

The White Lady is the wife of the pale king, and she is a mother, but not a Mother. she is a wife, but a cold one. she is a queen, but she is absent. she is a god, and she is selfish. when a vessel stumbled into her chambers, where she imprisoned herself of her own volition, she gave away her late husband's wedding ring, speaking of its potential power. not of its sentiment, for it was broken and useless without its other half, not of its purpose or who owned it or why she carried it, no. she gave it away and asked her child to sacrifice their own life for her.

trees do not care what happens to the fruit they bear. it falls from their branches and is either carried off by animals or reduced to rot in the grass. the seeds inside are all the tree could care about, flourishing for its own gain. the more trees, the better. nature does not care. The White Lady is Nature. and she does not nurture. The Mind loves her dearly, for her branches and her life and all she is and ever will be. Nature is neutral in return.

The Radiance is an arrogant goddess who believed in herself just as the Mind did, believing in her own beauty and power, that she could unite everyone beneath her if they just focused entirely on her, on achieving the feats she wished of them, and from arrogance she birthed arrogance, as her people abandoned her for better, clearer things the moment they were able. she wished for them to follow their Dream, and once they did, she made them regret it.

The Hollow Knight was born to be purity and perfection. something mindless and yet clever, something stoic yet without will, something silent yet sending a message. and the hollow knight looked upon this impossible task, then out across the kingdom that would be relying on its success, then up towards the eyes of its proud father, the Mind believing in its Patience and perseverance and its ability to hold strong for as long as they would need, and Patience acted for the good of the world around it.

and an eternity later, a lone knight stepped into a kingdom, listening to its final breaths, suspended in a moment between life and death, and the knight came forward to decide its Fate.

[howifeltabouthim]

One realizes everything later. Sorrow always comes late. Sometimes sooner because it gives advance notice. Coming to find you at night, digging holes in your brain and stomach and veins with pain, wounds, something dark comes to you. But you still don't know what it is.

Catherine Lacey, from Biography of X

[catilinas]

stomping whoever wrote this to death with my hooves

[tempobrucera]

Let the devil be my witness

Pairing: Thomas x Fem!Reader x Ethan

Summary: "The little star is unhappy, it wants to be a star that others wish upon, bring them luck but shooting stars are meteors burning, just surviving for us to see before they burn up and hit the ground" or Five years of everything going wrong.

Word Count: 10.5k

Other: Warnings and everything at the end this time. There's hints to All my friends told me you would break my heart, which you should read, just because I love it :) (It works without but better with).

Reblogs are free, I would appreciate people using them. Thanks <3

Add yourself to my taglist.  / Masterlist

.#####.

NOW

"I want to throw a party," Thomas tells him. Curled up under his blanket, looking at him with big eyes, a small happy smile on his face. "It'll be fun. I can close the bar for a day and everyone can just have fun, they deserve it."

Ethan just hums. He didn't see Thomas for months until he gave him a call and then Thomas just appeared in front of his door today, hugging him close and now Thomas is laying in his bed after hours of talking.

"You would come as well, right?" There's a glimmer of hope in Thomas' eyes.

"Sure," he smiles at him, "Can't have you party alone."

For a long time nothing is said, until Ethan thinks that Thomas already fell asleep. He reaches for the second blanket that is at the foot of the bed, turns the already dimmed light off. Only then, in the darkness, Thomas stirs again.

"Thank you," Thomas mumbles against his neck, "for not hating me."

Ethan stiffs before he relaxes again: "Of course not."

"Do you think we will work as a band now?" Thomas buries his face against his neck.

"It'll be okay."

"Did Vic or you tell him to apologise?" Thomas asks, slightly shaking in his arms.

"No, Dam just asked us for your new number. He wanted to apologise himself."

Again there's only silence and darkness surrounding them. But there's still one question Ethan wants answered, there's an idea forming in his head.

"Tho?"

"Eth?"

"Do you still write her?"

There's rustling next to him. He blinks and the next time he opens his eyes, he holds Thomas' phone in his hands. Thomas' Instagram DM's with you are opened. Messages you never answered but there's the little heart emoji under the text that shows that someone liked the message.

I think, I never said it but I'm sorry.

Ethan scrolls further up, sees text blur together, sees the hearts on Thomas' texts but how he never got an answer, except once. He scrolls down, and blinks at the screen confused, then it's gone again. Thinking that he imagined it, he wants to give the phone back to Thomas but just before he does, it starts again.

Typing …

Nothing happens, no text appears, but the plan is shaping up in Ethan's head - the last five years have been enough.

.#####.

"I know this is really weird," Ethan says, "Look, do you still talk to …"

He's getting cut off: "Yes, we still talk. It's okay, we just fucked, you made that really clear. What do you want?"

"Could you do me a favour and get her to a party?"

"Are you going to tell me why?"

"I can't go on seeing Thomas like this," he says, "They have to talk."

"You can't lie to me, I know which arrangement you had." There's a sigh on the other side of the phone. "You want it back as well."

"I'm already happy when he's not breaking down again. He still loves her, that's more important and more than enough for me."

"It has been years."

"Please! Before they are running away from each other again."

"I'm sorry, she just broke up with someone, I don't know if it's a good idea to just confront her with Thomas of all people right now."

"Just this one favour, I don't know who to ask otherwise."

"What do I get for being a part of this stupid plan?"

"Seeing a happy end?" A small laugh, but he counts it as a victory. "I would give you my soul if I have to, I just want to see him happy after all this."

.#####.

Five Years ago - The Breakup

Hindsight is always easier than foresight. You know now, Thomas knows now and Ethan knows now as well. Now is just too late. It wasn't what was said that ended your relationship - it was what went unsaid. At least that is what you tell yourself, but it's too late.

Just lock the door when you leave.

Just chuck the keys into my letterbox.

You cry downstairs when you are in front of his mailbox, his keys in hand. He isn't going after you to say that he's sorry. There's nothing - just silence.

Did you just break up with me?

You should have known, should have known better. Should have known before they even came back home from tour, but you were stupid enough to tell yourself that it will all turn out to be okay in the end. It didn't, you can see that now. You should have known when he went to parties more often than picking up the phone for calls you agreed on before. Forgetting calls all together and him being more distant than not.

Just when you're about to throw the keys into the letterbox, there's a hand on your shoulder and then Ethan pulls you into a hug. For a few seconds you had hope. You were clinging to the last bit of hope on this gloomy November day, all to have it shattered.

"I'm sorry," he says and hugs you closer.

You can't do anything than cry into his shirt, onto his shoulder. Your phone vibrates in your hand, has the keys making a jiggling noise.

"He doesn't mean it, don't believe him," Ethan says, "he missed you. Thomas missed you so much, he thought it would make it worse and that it would make it worse for you or him."

You don't answer, you just stare down on your phone.

Yes

The keys you drop into Ethan's hand are almost falling to the floor. And then you leave them behind.

.#####.

FIVE YEARS AGO

"Los Angeles?" Vic looks at him surprised, "Are you sure, Thomas?"

He just nods, nervously picks at his nail polish.

"Why?"

"Vivi wants to go," Thomas isn't looking at her, "might be easier for her to start a career there than here. You know how hard everything here is."

"I'm sorry, what?" The expression on Victoria's face changes from surprised to something like outraged. "You know her for what? Two months of fucking? If she has any talent, she'll also make it here, you of all people should know that."

Thomas just shrugs, avoids her gaze, and Vic sighs.

"Are you that heartbroken?"

He shrugs again, doesn't want to face the truth.

"I told you, that she would break your heart."

"I …," Thomas looks at his hands - thinks of the day the break up happened, "I was the one who broke up with her."

"Maso!" The anger gives way to a sadder look on Vic's face. "You are so in love, and you are still, don't lie to me. I don't understand, why?"

"I thought it would hurt less when I do it."

.#####.

You try to ignore it, you try to ignore the rumours and the gossip that reaches your ears - the whispers around the city. It works, but only until someone you almost forgot you know, sends you an article that you open without thinking even one second about it. You should have, you shouldn't have looked at this. Shouldn't have seen what you so desperately tried to avoid the last couple of months.

There's no need to read the article, you just see the photo. Thomas in an intimate embrace with a woman. He has his tongue down her throat, or the other way round, you're not sure. Deep down, you don't even want to know. Then you switch off your phone. You don't want to think about it, but it doesn't work.

Even in the evening when you're home and switch your phone on again, you're still thinking about it. Not getting the image out of your head, the bottle of white wine doesn't help, it just has you thinking about Thomas again, and about Ethan. The one night, you all got drunk on wine and high on weed, crossfaded - a happy pile on Thomas' couch, some obscure horror film playing in the background. Ethan kissing your neck, and Thomas giggling under you, how he tried to kiss you on the lips but his lips landed right under your eye. How he poked his tongue out, slowly licked and Ethan laughed against your shoulder. But on your phone, you can see more photos. Thomas holding hands, Ethan somewhere in the distance, the girl looking straight into the camera and you want to throw your phone against the wall.

For one second, you in your head you play with the thought to call him. Just to hear his voice, to be soft, but you don't. You call one of the friends you made in Rome, a friend you made because of him, after he took you out for dinner the first time. Thomas' friend, Franca - the waitress that evening, with who you hit it off. She showed you around bars when he wasn't there, talked with you - teached you more Italian, became a friend. Exactly like Thomas wanted to, I knew you would like each other.

"Hi," you feel bad, "I'm so sorry to call. I know he's your friend, probably more than mine but, I, I just don't know what-"

"Sweetheart," her voice is soft, "so you saw it? I'm so sorry. It's okay, he's an idiot, he was told. You're my friend as well."

"Thanks," you sniff slightly, "This hurts. He couldn't wait at least more than a month or two before almost climbing someone in public?"

"I know this isn't any condolence, but Ethan and Vic both told him, this isn't going to turn out any good and everything else …," she stops.

Sweet Ethan, you think.

"What do you mean? Everything else?"

"Are you sure, you want to know this?" She asks. You know, you shouldn't say yes to this question, it was enough for today, but you still do. "I'll sent you a screenshot, and you know what we should do? Go out, there's plenty of fish in the sea. We'll get you something better."

Problem is, you don't want anything better. You want Thomas. You want Ethan as well - but it doesn't hurt as much.

The screenshot almost makes you cry, it's a photo of Thomas and the woman you saw too many times today already. She's pressing her lips to one of his cheeks, just next to a freckle you loved to kiss, her arms around him. Worse is only the caption: Can't wait to start a new and better life with my sweetheart, the absolute love of my life, in Los Angeles next month.

"Los Angeles?" You should be happy that you'll have Rome to yourself again, that you don't have to be careful where to step, to not run into any of them. You feel nothing. "This day was enough, I think."

"You don't know the best part yet. She actually tagged him in this post but not only him, she somehow managed to tag the band account as well." A tiny bit you even have to laugh. "Ethan apparently lost it, saying he doesn't want to be associated with this. And Vic commented under it Are you tagging us to remind us that we'll have band practice over video call now, or why are we seeing this. And now, I promised you to party."

"Actually …," you thought about it before but now is the time to really do it, "I would rather look for a new job than for a stopgap just to fuck."

.#####.

There's some kind of magical string pulling you to the bar that day. The bar you met in, where Thomas first act upon seeing you was to empty his Tequila Sunrise over your dress by accident. Just when you want to step into the bar, you can see a blond man with messy hair turn around quickly and walk away - you shake your head at yourself, you're seeing ghosts.

You just want to get a drink, watch people for a bit, and go home but when you come back from the bar, Vic is sitting at the table where you usually sit.

"I know, I know, yes I got it," she says into her phone, "I just thought, you wouldn't cancel on me after you should have been already here. I get that you still have to pack stuff but …"

She hangs up with a sigh, then she looks at you: "I can't believe he just bailed on me like that."

"Welcome to the club," you want to be sarcastic but the bite is missing from your voice.

Victoria chuckles, but quickly stops when she sees your face: "I can't believe, he's really going to move to Los Angeles of all places. Half my life he was always just a few streets away."

You can feel your lips start to quiver, your hand slightly shaking. Vic takes your drink out of your hand and then she pulls you down into a hug.

"God, I'm so sorry," she whispers while you cry into her soft cardigan, "This must be hard for you as well."

"Please don't tell him."

.#####.

When you're home hours later, you stare at the Instagram DM Thomas sent you a while ago:

I just wanted to tell you that I'm moving to LA. I wanted you to know from me, not from somewhere else.

You didn't answer - there was nothing left to say. You already knew.

It should have been the quickest way to get you back home but now you're already standing in the streets for the last ten minutes. Autumn is just around the corner, it's early September, and you are standing in front of Thomas' flat. Thomas' old flat - he moved end of June, you try to tell you that it's better like this. That he's gone, but it doesn't work, you tell yourself the same when you see pictures in glossy magazines or when you accidentally see Thomas' Instagram's posts. It always hurts whatever you tell yourself.

You try not to let your thoughts wander back in time, you try not to think about them. But before you can tell yourself not to do it, you think about how many times you went up the stairs to Thomas' flat. How you went up the stairs the first time after the night at Ethan's place.

They just came back from some little promo tour they had for a little over a week and Ethan asked if you would come over to Thomas' place later. You couldn't say no, you where just wondering why Thomas didn't text anything all evening and isn't the one who's opening the door for you.

"Where's Thom?"

"In the living room." Ethan grins at you, glass of wine in hand. You can only hear the intro music of a film playing from the living room. "He'll be happy to see you."

Contrary to what you expected Thomas isn't sitting on the couch, he's laying on his back, on the wooden floor boards - almost naked. You kneel down next to him, to press a kiss to his cheek. Affectionately you let your fingers glide through his hair. He wants to say something but he can only whine and mumble against the soft scarf that is between his lips, used to gag him. You let your hands wander over his body, his waist, his hips, play with the hairs of his happy trail until he whines again and tries to buck his hips up.

Ethan kneels down next to him on his other site and carefully gets the scarf out of his mouth. He wipes the spit away from Thomas' chin with his thumb.

"We will watch a film now." Ethan says, "If you promise me to make no noise, you can come up to the couch and we can leave this off."

Thomas sits between you two, while you are still dressed. Everytime Thomas does want to say something or a whine almost lefts his mouth, he carefully bites into Ethan's shoulder or into your arm. When there's a heated scene of two people fucking against a wall, Thomas loses the battle with himself and lets a loud whine slip past his lips. It doesn't help that you let your hand slip into his slightly tented briefs and let your fingers swirl around his tip. He whines even louder.

"You have to go back down." Ethan says, slapping your hand lightly, so you take it off Thomas' and then he pauses the film. "Just lay down, stick your tongue out."

Thomas does lay down, while Ethan takes off your trousers and your panties: "You can have him, but not his dick, otherwise you can play with him, 'kay?"

You kind of have an idea what he wants to see, and you don't want to disappoint, you know Thomas doesn't want to either. You wipe some of the drool away from Thomas' face. He looks up to you, a little bit unsure - you still remember how he said he isn't good at this.

"You'll do great," you reassure him before you put both your feet next to his head, grab a handful of his hair and lower your body down. "I know it, just keep your tongue out, babe."

He is doing more than keeping his tongue out, he's trying to go with your movements. Carefully licking through your folds, then faster - a little bit harsher, before he switches back to carefully. You move his head, his tongue gliding in and out. Whoever made him believe that he's not good at this, deserves to be haunted for their rest of their life, you think. When you pull him off, he presses his tongue flat against your clit, slightly circles it. It feels so good, you almost cum and you would but Ethan pulls you off. Thomas heavily panting under you.

It doesn't take long to free Thomas of his briefs, or to get him to fuck you. You're bouncing up and down playfully on his dick, you can feel how he restrains himself to not just buck up into you.

"You did such a good job," you can hear Ethan tell him, "You don't have to hold back."

And he doesn't. The next second your back hits the floor and he's over you. There's no restraints anymore, just Thomas going deeper, moaning into your mouth. The only word you can think off is wild, and you definitely see the stars when you cum.

A loud noise gets you out of your memories, people being noisy, carrying boxes. Just when your phone is ringing and you pick it up almost in trance.

We would like to offer you the job.

The For Rent sign is taken down. Someone new is moving in. He isn't coming back, you realise. It's not feeling like a weird and unpleasant dream anymore, it feels like reality crashing down over you. And you are offered the job you always dreamed of. In Sydney, a city you never asked for. You look up to Thomas' window, the window you have seen him smoke out so often and know that you'll not see him again like this, and you say yes.

.#####.

Thomas is sitting on the roof of his rented house. Cigarette between his lips, guitar next to him, he's watching the sunset in the distance. He can't tell if he's happy, the only thing he knows for sure is that he's drunk. Incredibely drunk. He went up to the roof after Vivi asked him another time this week, if he could show her photos to some people, as she did the months before. Thomas tried, he did try for her, showed them to some people he thought might have pity - either with him or with her - or would like them, but everyone told him the same. No. It escalated into a fight and then into a fight about something else, not the first time since they moved, or even this month and not only because of this alone.

He's tired. Tired of running after people for other people. Tired of the fighting. Tired of band practice over webcam. Tired of Vic and Damiano looking at him pityfully. And he's so tired of Ethan looking at him as if he had told him that stars aren't real and the big celestial bodies are only an illusion he made up in his head years ago. He's so tired of it.

Don't fucking cry. He tells himself.

He is tired of being tired. Thomas takes another sip of his drink that is too bitter. He loves sitting on the roof with the last sunrays of the day but he misses his balcony in Rome and his small kitchen full of people, cooking that goes wrong and food that can't be eaten but he still had fun. Now there are still people in his kitchen but every day blends into the other, people talk to him as if he's an animal in a zoo and he's getting scolded for burning something more often than feeling lips on his forehead, in his hair or on his cheeks - and collective laughter.

Do you think stars have a life?

There's no thought in his head when he writes it, no one stopping him sending it. Nothing happens, until a little heart appears under his text. Causing his own heart to jump in his chest. He waits but there's nothing else, no answer.

I hope Sydney makes you happy x

No answer.

I'm not. Happy, I mean. He writes it, but before sending it, he deletes it and dials Ethan's number instead.

"It's early," Ethan says. There's a voice next to him and Thomas can hear how he gets out of bed.

"It's late," Thomas says, "Do you think stars have a life?"

"Do you want to hear the scientific answer?" Ethan asks and sighs. "Or are you asking for a story?"

"A fairytale?" He picks up his guitar, it almost wheeps when he plays. He still isn't ready to cry but his guitar wants to. "Please?"

"Hundreds of light years away, in a bright galaxy full of other stars, there was once a little star …"

He only gets down the roof late in the night. Vivi is standing in the corridor, looking tired and she snaps at him.

"Did you have fun?" she asks, "While I had to tell your friends that you aren't in a good mood and everyone looked at me like I'm the most pathetic person in the room?"

"Vivi."

"No. Don't look at me like that, like you're all sad and your life is horrible with me but like you're sorry," she says, "You cannot always leave an argument like this Thomas."

His voice is smaller than he wants it to be: "I didn't invite those people, you did. You can't just invite people to my house. They aren't my friends, how many times do I have to repeat? You started an argument in front of them because you started with your," he makes air quotes, "Can you believe he still didn't ask me to marry him again."

"Yes, because we had this conversation so many times. I told you I want to get married, get a hint."

"You want me to marry you? Fine." He is tired, he's still so fucking tired. "I'll buy you a ring. Go dress shopping or whatever people do that get married."

"You finally came around?" She smiles and puts an arm around his hips, "We will make such a great couple, I already know the perfect dress, you will love me in it."

"I'm crashing in a hotel." He takes his guitar and his car keys. And then he's out the door, he wants to get out, he just wants to breathe.

In the end he does buy a ring. He even goes down on his knees. He's so fucking tired. He wishes he really could be the little star light years away that so desperately wants to be a shooting star and is still finding happiness in the end.

I got engaged

This time he isn't waiting for an answer, a reaction, isn't staring at his phone. He knows there will be no answer - there's nothing else to say.

.#####.

They tour Europe and Thomas finally feels like he can breathe again. He calls Vivi after gigs, lets her talk about wedding decisions she makes without him. But more often than not, he sends you a quick message. A photo from Florence, an anecdote how he almost fell off stage in France, that he misses talking to you from Stockholm and a selfie of him and Ethan with the Colosseum in the background from Rome which you saved to your phone.

"Do you think Sydney is nice?" Thomas asks Damiano one evening.

"You want to tour Australia, huh?" Damiano looks back at him but then his look changes. "It's not about touring, is it?"

Thomas shakes his head.

.#####.

FOUR YEARS AGO

It's already early May when Ethan comes to visit him in Los Angeles. He's excited, excited to see his friend, excited to have nothing to do and he hopes that he is finally getting away from deciding which colour the tablecloths at the wedding should have, which they still don't have a date for and will more than likely still be months away.

The first two days are the best he had since the tour ended. Just Ethan and him going to the beach, eating ice cream and existing next to each other. There's a party in the evening and Thomas almost gets Ethan to dance on a table with him but in the end he smiles fondly at him and stays on the ground. Thomas laughs when Ethan puts his hands on his hips to get him off the table at the end of the night. He still smiles when Ethan strokes his sweaty bangs out of his face and says goodnight, presses a light kiss to his cheekbone, hours later.

"You came home late!" It's the first thing he hears when he wakes up only hours later. Vivi's voice sharp next to him.

And then all of a sudden it isn't the relaxed holiday anymore he wanted, or Ethan wanted for himself. Vivi always hanging around, pulling him back when he gets too close or when Ethan puts an arm around his waist. There are more photos of her in Thomas' flowy shirts than usual, Thomas in the background sometimes, a hand here, an engagement ring there. A little reminder. Not one minute she leaves them alone, Ethan rolls his eyes when she cuddles up to Thomas at the pool one afternoon, making out with him until Ethan takes his book and leaves for his room.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing!?" She puts her hand on his chest. "You don't like it?"

"That's not what I'm talking about. Am I under surveillance or something?"

"You fucked with him, or someone with him, I don't care. But don't think I'll let him out of my sight or alone with you. That one party was enough."

"You're exaggerating," Thomas tells her but Vivi isn't listening anymore, "There's nothing you have to worry about. You know we aren't getting back together."

Ethan is staying away from him the next days, doing his own thing. Sending Thomas a photo from an art gallery he is going to, while Vivi is dragging him to another one at the other end of the city. He has a headache. Somehow there's a snapshot of him holding hands in an Italian gossip magazine a day later which Damiano sends him a photo off.

You remember when Ethan told us about his fave painting? And how the brushstrokes are unique? I wish, I could still remember the painting's name without asking him but I only remember the name of the tea I had. Who names a tea Dulce & Banana?

One morning, the second week of Ethan's stay, Ethan and Thomas take their breakfast to the pool. Listening to music together and Thomas rests his head on Ethan's shoulder while biting into a croissant.

"Smile!" Ethan says and then everything goes a little bit too fast. Thomas smiles when Ethan points his phone camera to them. While Vivi sneaks in from behind just in the moment Ethan rises his hand to show the camera his middlefinger, directly in front of her face. Strangely he has to giggle when he sees the end result. Vivi on the other hand is fuming, Thomas just looks at him, a little bit annoyed, a little bit lost. He posts it anyways and thinks about getting a hotel room for the rest of his stay.

"Can you at least try to be nice to her?" Thomas says later in the day.

Before Ethan can answer, Vivi lays her arm around Thomas: "We're going out for dinner now, right?"

"Are you joining?"

"No, I'm going to look for a hotel room."

Later he does look for a hotel room but before he books it, he decides to facetime Victoria.

"How are you two? Oh…" Vic looks at him surprised, "Where's Thom?"

"Out for dinner, with Vivi."

"Your holidays aren't that great?" She asks.

He tells her everything that gets on his nerves, how it feels like he can't talk to Thomas even five minutes a day. How he really doesn't want to be here and that he really was excited to be here in the beginning.

"This is why I didn't want to join." Chili is crawling into her lap. "Or why Damiano and I decided she isn't allowed to join us on tour."

"You decided this without me?"

Victoria sighs: "You can never be angry with him for long, damn you can't even say no to him even when he's the biggest fucking idiot." Vic and Chili are both looking at him. "Dami didn't want the paparazzi to swamp us, they somehow turn up when she's around, and I didn't want you to have to see this the whole time."

"Okay."

"Ethan, you … As I said you can't say no to him, he just has to look at you. We … we also thought it would be …," she shakes her head, "You and him is a different story, I didn't want to make it harder for you or him or for … For, you know, for her."

"Okay."

"And … I can see he's suffering."

Ethan startles when there's a knock on the door. Thomas in front of it.

"Did you eat?"

"Shitty pizza and an even shittier salad."

Thomas looks at Ethan's laptop: "One of your fuckbuddies?"

"I hope I'm better than that!?"

All three of them laugh, and Vic hangs up. Thomas gives him a paper bag. It contains some pastries and a salad that isn't shit according to Thomas and two pre-mixed cocktails in bottles.

"Can I come in?" Thomas asks, "I'm sorry because of earlier."

They go up to the roof in silence, they eat in silence, they drink in silence.

"Do you really want this engagement, Thom?"

"I don't know," he shrugs - fumbles for a cigarette.

"If you could start over with your life would you do it?" Ethan tries to change his approach. "Would you change anything?"

"Hmmm," Thomas looks down at the cigarette between his fingers, "I would. I would do a lot different now. Let the devil be my witness, I would do things differently."

"When she would have come up with me again, would you have still broken up?"

"Did you ask her to come up again?" Thomas looks at him - hurt and broken.

"No."

"Does it matter then?"

Ethan swallows. Maybe it doesn't matter after all. There's only cigarette smoke and silence between them.

"Can I stay here?" Thomas plays with his ring, twists it on his finger, puts it on another finger before he puts it back where it belongs.

Thomas cuddles close to him when they are in bed. All Thomas wants is another story, and Ethan settles on a story that one of his older sisters told him when he was a child.

Thomas is almost asleep, when he speaks again: "Can we book a room for us together?"

.#####.

Sydney isn't Rome. You knew but it still shocks you how the city and you aren't getting along - there's a point mid-year where you have to admit that you aren't going to be friends. Everywhere you step, everywhere you walk, you miss Rome. History surrounding you, traffic chaos, you miss it. It doesn't help that your new job isn't as good as you made it out to be in your head and your manager a dickhead.

Sometimes you think about how easy it would be to write Thomas. Like you did before, talk about your day, that your job is shit, how stressed you are. That the grass isn't always greener on the other side. You wish, you could hear his voice, hear him talk and fall asleep to the sound of his guitar. You want to tell him that you recently saw a poster of them a street you walk every day but the next morning someone already sprayed over it and you imagine how he would laugh and make a joke.

You don't write him, you don't answer when he writes. But in the end, you post a photo of you packing boxes. And a month later you post a photo of you back in Rome.

I hope Rome missed me as much as I missed Rome.

It's your first night back. You're happy, sitting on your new balcony with a bottle of wine. You're happy and melancholic. Thomas sends you a &lt;3 - and you almost start to cry.

I miss Rome as well

Realisation that you will think about him at every corner you turn and every street you cross again strikes you when you see his message.

Do you remember when you told me you didn't regret kissing me?

You do - you remember it still too clearly.

A few months after the first night at Ethan's place. After a few more nights together, you in Thomas' bed and in his arms for most of the evening. Until Thomas is turning onto his stomach and you end up sitting on his thighs, pressing kisses to his neck and shoulders.

"Do you regret being here?" Thomas mumbles into his pillow.

"No." Another kiss to his shoulder. "Why would I? I'm exactly where I want to be?"

"You really don't regret kissing me the first time at the pool?"

"I don't regret it," you say, "And I meant everything I said as well."

Thomas is still slightly humming into the pillow when Ethan joins you two in bed.

"You smell like sex," Thomas says, turns his head - and lifts his head into Ethan's touch when Ethan tousles his hair.

Ethan just grins while you're busying yourself with continuing to kiss Thomas' shoulder blades.

It's your deal. Ethan will do whatever he does, whatever he wants - go and come how he pleases. Will join you whenever he likes, taking advantage of the spare key Thomas gave him. More often than not. Thomas is different, a constant. But in the end Ethan isn't that different - he always comes back to both of you.

"Yes," he kisses your cheek, "You two don't, are you just cuddling?"

Now it's your turn to grin. Thomas shivers when you put your hand on the small of his back and breath lightly against his ear: "I think, Thomas would love to cum."

"Would he?"

Thomas nods and whimpers quietly, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"What would have happened if I wouldn't have come home?"

"He wouldn't cum." Thomas whimpers again, "Obviously."

You know, somewhere along the lines, Thomas will get his revanche at you for this. Later, when you do smell like sex, Thomas and Ethan cuddled close to you, you think home.

You still think about it sometimes, home.

.#####.

I felt safe.

He looks at the text, but deletes it, puts his phone down and goes for his guitar instead, he plays mindlessly. He plays until his mind is blank, no emotion or feeling left.

When he goes back to the bedroom, Vivi is in bed, red lingerie, but what catches Thomas off guard is his phone in her hands.

"What are you doing?"

"You changed your PIN?" She looks at him. "I also can't open it anymore with my fingerprint?"

"You shouldn't be on my phone."

He's tired. He's so tired again.

"You are hiding something from me." It's not even a question.

"No."

He doesn't. She knows, knew from the beginning, she still decided she wanted a relationship with him. Wanted to move to Los Angeles together, wanted to marry him. Maybe she really is in love, he thinks. He was at one point, maybe still is a bit, otherwise he wouldn't be here. But then he realises that she got him away from all his friends, from home, he feels alone. She's always there, but he's still alone. He's always wrong, sometimes he isn't, when she wants something. With everytime she posts a photo of her in one of his shirts, it gets worse. With every pic he posts, with every ohhhh and awwww in the comments, while Vivi is there to ridicule him, he wants to get away.

"Sure, lets say I'll believe you." She gets up and tries to open his shirt. "I didn't get into this for nothing."

"Not in the mood."

"You're never in the mood. You could at least fuck me, Thomas."

And then she rushes out of the room.

He wants to go home.

.#####.

Once again, it's November. And he breaks up with someone. It almost becomes a tradition, he's sarcastic to cope.

"You promised to marry me."

Thomas doesn't say anything.

"I wish we never met," she takes a plate that is next to the sink. "Everyone warned me about you."

That rings a bell, Thomas thinks but he keeps silent. He's too afraid he'll fold again, stay.

"You'll regret this." The plate flies towards him, he can just duck before it flies over his head and shatters on the wall. The last time it was a tea cup - he wants to cry. "I'll make you regret this."

He sinks down the wall, ends up between the shards of the broken plate.

"Please, stop." Thomas says, when he sees Vivi reach for another plate. "Stop."

"You'll see what happens next."

She throws her engagement ring at him and leaves.

And he finally cries.

.#####.

Thomas goes home for Christmas, he isn't planning on going back. He's back in Rome and he wants to stay.

He posts a picture of him being back.

I'll never be as happy somewhere as here

He smiles at his phone when you like the post, Ethan smiling at him in return.

Vic, Damiano, Ethan and him are spending New Year's in his new flat. Damiano cooking with Ethan's help. Vic annoying them with party crackers. He laughs, he's happy, he needed this.

"I missed you." Victoria hugs him from behind, then she annoys him with a party whistle, blowing it directly against his stomach.

The New Year starts with too much champagne, laughter, his friends and a walk Ethan takes him on.

"I'm glad you're back." Ethan offers him a cigarette. "Did you tell her you're back?"

"No." But Thomas smiles. "I think she knows."

He stays back a little, Ethan walking ahead slowly. There's one thing, he wanted to do, he gets the engagement ring out of his coat. Looking at the Tiber, he breathes in deeply, it's cold, then he throws it into the river and he sees it sink.

Happy New Year &lt;3

Happy New Year, Thom!

If he would have looked up, he would have seen you cross the bridge he walked over only minutes ago.

.#####.

Three Years Ago

Your year starts out differently than expected. It really starts a few days after it already started and it starts at a place you didn't expect, the supermarket. Almost it doesn't catch your attention but then you have a closer look. It's a magazine you see, and take from the rack. It's a flashy one with big letters and attention grabbing headlines and the word EXCLUSIVO in red. What grabs your attention is the photo of Thomas, and his ex, the photo photoshopped to seem torn apart and the exclusive interview the cover teases. Her name printed beneath another picture of her and the Polyamouros affair with his bandmate - what else did she have to go through? headline makes your head spin. You buy it and hurry to get home.

Your head spins even more, when you read it.

We already sent invitations for our wedding.

He broke up with me on my birthday.

He kicked me out of our shared house, without letting me get my stuff, in the middle of the night.

Before me, he had an affair with Ethan and some random girl. They both f*cked her, he tried to keep it a secret. This probably explains why he's incapable of real intimacy, one just isn't enough for him. I'm still wondering if he cheated on me during our time together, they were on tour, maybe they just fucked random groupies.

Maybe that's why we didn't have sex.

You can't believe that she got two double pages and you can't believe that she's talking about Thomas. Your Thomas. Maybe you don't want to believe it.

The next days the story is all over the place. Your friends who knew, blowing up your phone. Even Victoria reaches out to you.

Thomas keeps silent, the only thing which is said, that the statements do not reflect true events, is coming from their publicist. You can see him getting shit, see the hateful comments.

I cried in the shower. fuck.

That's what Thomas writes one night later.

I didn't do anything of this. I should have stayed with her, she said she would make me regret it.

You want to hug him, you want to tell him that everything will be okay. You don't, the moment just passes.

Ethan posts something close to a statement in his stories, which Thomas reposts.

The only thing, I want to say is this: All 3 people have consented to this form of relationship, no one cheated. It was a relationship with a person we adore and not some "random girl", it was full of love from all sides. Don't judge.

And then the narrative changes.

Their wedding planner speaking up, that no invitations where sent: "They didn't even have a date? Do you send invitations to your wedding without a date?"

Her birthday is in March - they broke up in November.

"I saw her throwing a cup at him after a party, because he ruined her party at his house, he paid rent for. He didn't say a peep."

"She left, he didn't kick her out. This is what she wrote me after they ended their relationship."

And then the story dies, another attention grabbing story coming along.

.#####.

It's over and done with, he tells himself when he's laying down to get his new tattoo on his birthday. Vic got him to go to therapy, after she saw the story with the cup and asked if it's true. He was hesistant, but he has to admit, she was right, it's better. Sometimes, like now, he is afraid it isn't over, that she'll make him regret it, somehow.

Then the needle starts and there's only the feeling of getting tattooed. Just blissful pain.

"You have to show," Vic says at the next band practice and then she already pulls down his loose joggers, "Come on! I already couldn't really admire that tattoo over your ass when you got it."

"Vic!" He pulls his joggers up again while Ethan and Damiano giggle. "It's on my back, not my ass."

She puts her hand on his back, just over the waistband of his joggers, directly over his ass: "I said, over your ass, not on your ass and now show me that new tattoo."

Thomas starts pulling his joggers down again before Damiano opens his mouth, "Please don't show us your dick."

"What is wrong with all of you. It's not on my dick, just on my pelvis, really upper thigh."

"Next to it," she laughs and then she has a closer look, "Interesting."

It's a small colosseum, around it a snake that carries a little star.

.#####.

It's early May and it starts slowly. The comments in his direction getting more, as Damiano starts getting more and more frustrated. Their newest album not getting the best reviews or the good attention they hoped for, it's their fifth, it shouldn't matter, they are working on the sixth. The hype died down, it's normal, Ethan tells him, it's okay. And Vic telling him to concentrate less on numbers again.

"You have been a mess since the day I met you." Damiano says one day.

It's dead silent in the room. Vic shakes his head at him.

"What?" Thomas' voice is small.

"You are a mess. Ethan even had to get the press to not publish the name of your ex because your other one is crazy."

"Dami, stop." Ethan says, he bites his lips.

"What?"

"They asked for a statement from me and they mentioned her name," Ethan sighs, "I paid them to not mention it. It's okay, I didn't want you to worry about it again."

The nail in the coffin follows two weeks later. It escalates one day. They are sitting in the practice room again, nothing wants to work, no riff, no lyrics, nothing. Damiano lashes out at all three of them and Thomas smokes more than he plays guitar. During his next smoking break, he feels for a folded sheet of paper in his pocket. They should try it, he thinks, it could work better than everything they have. He has a riff in his head for it, he has an idea for on intro, he has the lyrics written down - maybe Damiano can tweak them.

"This is childish," Damiano says after only reading the first line.

"'kay. When you think, I'm childish, I'll leave." Thomas looks at the paper in Damiano's hand. "You're hurting me. I'm not going through this again."

"Thomas, come on. We just need something better tha-"

"I'll get my stuff later."

Ethan takes the paper out of Damiano's hand: "Oh, Thom!"

But Thomas is already out of the door.

"What?"

"It's a fairytale I made up for him. It's about a little star that wants to be a shooting star but shooting stars aren't real stars, the little star isn't meant or even built to be one. The story is about the little star which tries to be something else without realising that people love it for what it is. The little star is unhappy, it wants to be a star that others wish upon, bring them luck but shooting stars are meteors burning, just surviving for us to see before they burn up and hit the ground, they die, Damiano." Ethan gives the paper back to him, "And stars are beatiful nonetheless. I thought he didn't understand."

"And now?" Vic asks carefully.

"He'll be here tomorrow."

But Thomas isn't there the next day. His guitars - gone, his pedals - gone, his equipment - gone, his hoodie he left behind the day before - gone.

"And now?" Vic asks again, sitting on the floor where Thomas usually would sit.

"I'm not doing this without Thomas. You have been a real dickhead to him the past weeks, he had every right to leave. Why did you have to be so condescending to him?"

And then Ethan leaves.

"I … This only started because of Thomas, he started this with me. We had that silly little dream together to become rockstars. It only worked because of Thomas. Then it should also end with him. I'm sorry, I … can't do this without him, I don't want to."

And then Vic is gone as well.

Only Damiano stays behind, the piece of paper in his hands.

Saggezza delle stelle

.#####.

I broke up the band. Can I do anything right?

The news say they are taking a break, you saw it. But you believe him when he writes that they broke up as a band. You believe it even more, when Ethan reaches out to you. He isn't saying much, he's only asking you to reach out to Thomas, that he thinks he isn't feeling well. You're on the way to your first date in a while when you get the text. You don't answer - you don't write Thomas when Pedro the guy you saw for lunch is asking you for a second date.

.#####.

Thomas opens a bar, it's late summer. He thought about it, what to do with his life now and decided he wants a break from music. He doesn't want to write music for money - he wants to enjoy it, wants to love playing guitar just for the love of playing. He doesn't think that anyone would care anyways and then he started thinking, ended up with a tapas bar. It should be small, full of people and laughter. The opening is a party, he's happy.

Ethan is there, next to him behind the bar. Someone is missing, but Thomas is too chicken to reach out to Vic - he still has the feeling he ruined part of her life. Ethan told him, that she tries to cope, that it's hard but that they all will find their way. Thomas misses her, he misses their dinner dates and their silly rituals.

"To something new!" His mum cheers to him and he cheers back.

Do you think people who are hurt can be happy?

.#####.

"Thomas, are you okay?"

It's a simple question, or at least should be one. He only came to the bar tonight to meet his date. Now he isn't answering, just stares past his barkeeper, into the tiny room of the bar full of guests. There's only static noise in his brain. And then he bolts for the backdoor, just runs. He runs until his lungs give out, stands with his back to the wall in a small alley, and lets himself sink down.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Tears are stinging in his eyes. He really thought this would be over, he can't even remember how long it his been since that one rainy, gloomy day one past November. Or how long it has been since that one day in May. How long it has been since the last band practice. Or when he saw Vic or Ethan the last time. Or how long it's been since he came back from Los Angeles, with an engagement ring in his pocket that he threw into the river. Sinking down, just like one of his other dreams. He can't tell how long it's been, but he still remembers that voice.

"Fuck!"

He balls his hands into fists, slams them against the hard stone wall behind him. And he doesn't stop, he sniffs. He only stops when there's blood dripping drown his hands. Drips down from his knuckles onto the silver of his ouroborous ring, he gets blood into his blond hair somehow and winces when his knuckles slam against the wall another time.

"Fuck, please."

He pulls the hood of his hoodie over his head, into his face. No need for anyone seeing him like this, maybe even someone who still knows who he is. He searches for cigarettes, winces again when his opened skin comes in contact with the fabric of his jeans, but there are no cigarettes. He must have lost them, like he lost the last bit of his dignity. He thinks and laughs bitterly before he curls into himself. Somehow he manages to get his phone.

"Thomas?"

"Can you pick me up, please?"

"Sure? From the bar? Was your date this terrible?"

Thomas swallows, he never even saw his date. He stepped in and out of his bar in the timespan of two minutes.

"I'm not." He winces again. "Just pick me up, please. Ethan, please."

.######.

"Are you okay?"

It's another date, in a small tapas bar that is bustling, loud and full of people. With Pedro, the first person in a while you think that it could work with.

"Hmmm sure," but you're distracted. Distracted by a conversation that goes on behind you.

"Thomas, are you okay?"

When you turn, you can see someone in a hurry. Blond hair, tall. You shake your head, you must have imagined.

The evening goes on, you drink one of the best glasses of white wine you had in while. Talk, have fun, you laugh. This will work out, you tell yourself, how so often with him.

"Hi!? I'm here for Thomas, is he here somewhere?"

You wan't to ignore it again but the next sentence punches you in your gut.

"No, sorry. I don't think so. Salvatore, did you see Raggi come back?"

And the next one slaps you square in your face.

"No. We all just saw him bolt out of the backdoor like a mad man earlier but he didn't come back. Can you imagine dude owns this place."

"Are you sure, you are okay? You look like you just saw a ghost."

Blast from the past, you would say. You try not to suffocate yourself on your food.

"No, I'm fine," you hurry to reassure him, "But we could go home after we finish the wine."

He smiles at you.

Later, much later, your phone buzzes on your nightstand. You want to put it back again before you see the Instagram notification and without better judgement, you open the app and the direct message.

There's a kiss on your shoulder.

I miss you. Why do I still fucking miss you?

.#####.

"I'm useless." Thomas says a month later, when it happens again. Him running away when he sees you. "Vivi was right, I'm useless and not worth anyone's time."

"Thomas," Ethan brushes through his messy hair, "Please don't believe that, you're worth people's time. Certaintly my time, you aren't useless."

.#####.

"How is Tho?" Vic is asking him, nipping on her hot chocolate. It's getting colder outside again.

"Better, I think." Ethan tells her. "I think the bar is good for him, he loves having people around. He loves seeing people happy. I think it's the right thing for him, he's thinking about producing his own wine, he's experimenting with some grapes right now."

Vic hums, looking a little sad: "And how are you?"

"Fucking around."

"Literally?" Vic laughs.

"I fucked up a little?" He laughs as well. "I'm seeing this one girl, I really like her but I'm also seeing this other girl. I like her as well, but I'm not really interested in either of them? I know, it's weird and … well, I kind of forgot to tell them about each other?"

"Come on, you should know how this works." She still laughs before she gets serious again. "I'm glad you're still hanging on to Thomas, despite everything, he deserves someone like you."

When Ethan is driving her back home, Damiano's solo single plays on the radio. They both look at each other and Victoria changes the station.

.#####.

You are sitting on your couch, cuddled up. You're home, Pedro next to you.

"Are we together?" He smiles at you.

"Yes."

.#####.

"I want to show you something."

Thomas is excited, Ethan can tell and see, Thomas is skipping in front of him, but when they stand in front of the building, Ethan is confused.

"That's the house you throw me into the pool because I fucked your crush?"

"It's also the house she kissed me in the first time." Thomas smiles. "And it was on sale. It's a nice house, I wanted it."

Ethan shakes his head but he still smiles when he sees Thomas being happier than before.

.#####.

One Year Ago

You're happy, you really are. Rome feels like home again, you're in a loving relationship, your job finally not draining all energy out of you. Everything feels right again.

Sometimes when you're taking Thomas' umbrella with the dots on it, you're thinking about him. It outlasted him - still in your possesions. Sometimes there are evenings when Thomas writes to you, when he's on your mind. Sometimes Pedro asks if you want to answer him, he would understand, but you always shake your head. It still hurts.

.#####.

"Vic, people are looking already."

She's clinging to Thomas' body, arms around his neck and he has to hold her up when she wraps her legs around his thighs.

"I don't care. I haven't seen you in a year, you asshole."

It's true, it's over a year since they have seen each other last. He dreaded it when Vic reached out to him a few days ago but holding her, it already feels like no time passed. They are in his bar, he feels comfortable here. They can sit down, he can offer Vic some food, test his wine on her.

"I almost died a few days ago."

Thomas blinks at her.

"I went to a party, I got a little bit drunk." She smiles sheepishly. "A bit too drunk, I fell into the pool and I swear I almost drowned. I just didn't know how to get up? It was the weirdest feeling."

"How did you get up?" Thomas asks. He feels worse than he felt at the beginning of their conversation. He should have been there, get her out of there. Whatever happened at parties, they always saved each other since they were teenagers. He wasn't there when she would have needed him.

"Ethan was there with some guy and the dude jumped after me into the pool?" She plays with her white wine glass, lets the wine swirl. "He fished me out of the pool."

"I'm glad they were there with you."

"He looked a lot like you," she looks at him and sighs. "I thought it was you and then I thought I'm seeing god and I'll just die. How funny would that have been? I'm gonna die and god is just you judging me."

He laughs with her, he hugs her.

"Less parties for me now. I thought, I could go back to music. Maybe go into producing some stuff? I want to have my own label, encourage more girls going into rock music. I think, I would enjoy that." She pauses, takes another sip of her wine. "I wanted to ask if you would join in? Help me with starting it?"

"I can help a little bit here and there if you want me there," he says, "but don't get me wrong, I won't join. I have the bar, I'm really happy here and I have this project with a charity which advocates about abusive relationships. You could ask Ethan, he would love to do it, I think."

"But I can leave you the option to join in and own the label with us together when you're ready for music again?"

"Sure!" He gives her a pinky promise. "I'm sorry, Vic. I'm sorry that I fucked everything up."

.#####.

"Did you ever think about having a thing with two other people at the same time afterwards?" Thomas asks.

"With you?"

"Does it matter?" Thomas turns, pulls the blanket up to the tip of his nose.

"It does." Ethan sighs. "Yes, I actually had and I did think about it. But not with you."

"Oh."

"You need someone who loves you unconditionally. I do love you, but not like you need." Ethan sighs again. "It just worked because she loved you. She always wanted you. I don't think it would work any other way, with any other person."

"She didn't."

"What?"

"Love me!"

He curls up under the blanket.

"Maso," Ethan sits down next to him - brushes his fingers through his hair, "You're an idiot."

"Can you stay please."

"Yes, for tonight."

Ethan is gone the next morning, before Thomas even opens his eyes. Victoria tells him about work, the meetings they have together, and he is helping out but he isn't seeing Ethan again. He doesn't know what happened exactly, he just knows he doesn't want to be a piece of charity work. He also knows he's doing him wrong.

.#####.

This Year

You're in the supermarket to get a good bottle of wine. It's your anniversary, and you decided to have dinner on your balcony. You grab the bottle of white wine that springs to your eyes when you have a look around. Until now you just like the label, it's local, from the Lazio region. Before you put the bottle in your basket, you see the label on the back. There's a small picturous photo of a vineyard but next to it is another photo, one of Thomas smiling into the camera.

The bottle glides out of your hands, to the supermarket floor and shatters into pieces. People are looking at you while you try to hold your tears back. You're going back home without a bottle of wine, Pedro in the kitchen.

"I want to break up."

.#####.

Unknown number.

It's the fifth time today the number is calling him. He's laying in the sun and finally picks up. The phone almost drops to the ground when he hears Damiano's voice. He almost hangs up on him without saying anything.

But Damiano is faster: "I'm sorry, Tho. I was an asshole. You don't have to forgive me, I just wanted to apologise."

Thomas is silent first, he's in a better place than he was two years ago or even one, he realises. This would have gone differently then, he knows.

"I do," he says, "forgive you."

.#####.

You don't regret going to the party your friend dragged you to. You don't regret ending up in Thomas' bed. You don't regret the desperate sex, Thomas on top of and Ethan next to you. There's absolutely no regret when Thomas cuddles closer to you and you all stand in his kitchen the next morning.

You don't regret when you say, that you love him.

.#####.

Nothing changed when they all walk into their old rehearsal room.

"How did we get it back?" Vic asks.

"I paid the rent," Thomas says and ignores the looks the others give him.

It takes a while until they get around with each other again, but it works. They have new ideas. Sometimes they don't know how to act, what can be said or is too much but in the end, all of them are happy to be there. Back together.

"I thought we could try something," Damiano says. He pulls a piece of paper out of the pocket of his jeans, it looks more ragged now, after all the folding and unfolding it went through. He looks at Thomas. "If you want to."

.#####.

Thomas comes back with Ethan in tow. You're reading a book that you suspect to be Ethan's on Thomas' sofa.

"You're still here?" Thomas looks at you surprised.

"Yes." You swallow. "Did you want me to le-"

"NO!" He's fast to interrupt you and then sinks down next to you on the sofa. "I want you to stay. I want both of you to stay."

You kiss him on the nose and Ethan sits down on your side.

When you're all cuddled up together, you can see a tattoo flash when Thomas' waistband slides down his hips slightly.

"I didn't see this last night." You look at it interested and then tilt your head to look at his face. "Is there a meaning behind this?"

"I'm the snake, the little star is also me, I guess, but it's a story Ethan made up for me. And the colosseum, I missed Rome but … I fell in love you that day we met in front of it and went sightseeing together."

You cuddle up together, watch a film together, and Thomas takes some selfies of you all together. Him cuddled up against you, your head resting on his shoulders and Ethan next to you, his arm around the both of you.

He sends the pic to Vic.

Look who's back together? Just an idiot with his bandmate and some girl.

.#####.

END

All my friends told me you'd break my heart

Taglist:

Warnings: Mentions of an abusive relationship, some smut, angst and the big sad but with a happy end

Other: Thanks to the anon and Alba @maneskings who wanted this story <3

I wanted to make Vivi likeable in the beginning and there's a version where she is but it didn't work as well. There had to be the contrast between everything going wrong for him and seemingly everything going right on the outside and seemingly everything going right for Reader but in reality it doesn't.

And I wanted to make clear that obviously this is fiction and not reality. This is as it said everything going wrong.

@writingmaneskin, @oro-e-diamanti, @iamtashaquinn, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @foreveryking-thatdied, @findoutwhoyougonnacall, @maneskinbrainrot, @little-moonbeam-666, @ethaneskin, @maneskin-dimensione, @l0standn0tf0und, @butkutee, @gr8rainbowpunk, @maneslut, @maneskintifoso, @weareoddlydrawn, @hiraetheral, @imjustanerdwholikestoread, @cuzimitaliano, @hopelessromantic727, @dating-villain, @maneskinsimp, @lauraosheaoh, @till-you-scream-and-cry, @wonderlandishell, @h1ppieth1ngs (I think you put the wrong handle on the form?), @paralianeyes, @roisinmillar (same here? sorry guys, I can't add you when you give me a name of a blog that doesn't exist), @livvyysstuff

[mydearlybeloathed]

Can we get a pert 3 of hindsight/foresight? They were just too perfect to not ask

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐄��� 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: finals approach at new rome university, but the restful break turns out to be the opposite after a little... realization.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: leo valdez x erischild!fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.3k

𝐚/𝐧: ask and ye shall recieve! someday im def going to go back and edit the first two parts, maybe add onto the first one, but for right now here's what comes after foresight!

The baristas at the local coffeeshop had grown used your presence, and took to ignoring your frantic study sessions spent in the corner of the little shop. You hadn’t had to stand to order more coffee in weeks—they felt your stare and happily brought you more, leaving you to your notes.

You were so grateful for their encouragement as finals closed in, although Reyna couldn’t say the same.

She closed in like a hawk on a studious little mouse, disapproval written all over her face as she came up to your table and pushed your mug away from your reaching hand. You straightened up and shot her a glare, already knowing exactly who dared to disturb you. 

“Reyna,” you grunted, as if you were facing some long-term enemy. She rolled her eyes and sat down acrosf from you.

“Y/N.” She parted the sea of notes to better face you. “You know I respect you.”

“Ah, yes, here’s the but.”

Reyna emphasized, “But you’re worrying several of your friends—me included.”

You attempted to avert your eyes by fiddling with your pencil. “I need to keep studying.”

“Then change your scenery. Drink some water. Or, dare I say it, take a break.” In all her coolness, Reyna was pleading with you now, genuinely concerned with how exhausted you were.

“You know I can’t,” you murmured as you met her gaze head on. “I need to pass, or this was all for nothing.”

If you couldn’t pass finals, then all the grit and bearing would be for nothing. All your doubts would be right. You couldn’t let that happen, no matter how much sleep it cost. New Rome University was your last chance at making something of yourself, and by the gods you would not let it slip through.

“Thank you for your concern,” you said sincerely. “But I’ll be fine. Just need to get through next week.”

She pressed her tongue to her cheek whilst you proceeded to ignore her and go back to studying. Reyna was never one to give up so easily, especially not with your health on the line. Luckily, she had one more card up her sleeve.

“Leo said the same thing, you know.” Your eyes darted up from your notes, and Reyna knew she had you in her trap. “Honestly, he looked worse off than you. I didn’t know somebody could have eyebags as bad as his. Of course, he was chugging energy drinks, not coffee.”

Your hands stilled at your sides, thoughtful now. A few more moments passed like that, with Reyna fighting off a smirk and you rolling the image of a suffering Leo around your mind. “Where is he?”

“Somewhere in his dorm,” she replied, standing. “I’m sure he wouldn’t be opposed to a distraction. Not if its you.”

Somewhere between realizing her trick and wodnering just what she meant by that, you started packing up your things, much to the baristas’ shock. Reyna shock them a smirk as she slipped outside.

Minutes later you were trudging through New Rome, eyes on the ground as you took the practices route to the University, right up to the familiar boys dormitory built up on the far side of campus. You shoved open the doors and came face to face with a few students hanging around the lobby. Venus kids, if you remembered right.

“You seen Leo?” you asked, noting how your tone was deeper than usual. Maybe you did need sleep.

One of the girls among them hummed. “I think I saw him out on the patio.”

Thanking them quickly, you beelined back out the door, rounding the building and laying eyes on the marble octagon situated in the distance, surrounded by cool green grass. And on the picnic table at its center was a boy hunched over a series of books, just as you had been in the coffeeshop.

You slung your backpack to one shoulder as you approached, hopping up onto the marble and grinning when Leo startled. He blinked up at you, trying so very hard to seem awake, but you saw right through it. 

“You look like shit,” you teased as you slid into the seat across from him, tossing your bag aside.

He scoffed with a roll of his eyes even as he forced down a yawn. “Yeah, yeah. Back at you.”

You tilted your head, still smiling, and lazily reached to tug his books away. Leo huffed and tried to claw them back, letting them slip in the end. You caught his eye then. “Wanna head inside? We can watch a movie.”

Leo sat back and passed a hand over his curls. “Did Reyna send you?”

“She all but kicked me out of the coffeeshop,” you mused. 

“Out of Ambrosas?” he exclaimed, brows vaulted. “How will you ever survive?”

You took a moment to examine the many red bull cans scattered around. “Says the man who’s heart is bound to explode.”

“Touche.” Leo tried to return to his books, but he took a look around and felt his eyes crossing from overuse. “What movie?”

“The Hobbit?” you offered. Leo lit up slightly, his hands itching to toss all his things in his bag. 

“... Okay, but just the first one.”

As expected, you didn’t stop at just the first one, and as the credits rolled on the third movie, you glanced over at the window of Leo’s dorm to find the moon strung up in the sky. The pair of you were alone, wrapped up in blankets atop Leo’s bed. His roommate, some Apollo legacy called Sam, ahd taken one stpe inside before he scoffed and headed right back out. It was very weird.

It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that you and Leo were not only bundled in blankets, but also wrapped around one another, his head rested on your collarbone as his arms hugged your middle. 

On that thought…

You peered down at him, swiping away some of his curls to find his eyes fallen shut, soft breathes leaving him. A smile graced your lips as you settled further down under the covers. His roommate’s behavior really was odd, but at least it left you and Leo alone.

In his room.

In his bed.

Together.

The thought left you all warm and you found yourself curling around him as the threat of sleep grew larger by the second. Sam was just being weird, you dismissed.

Just a minute had gone by when Leo rustled slightly, his hand grazing your skin as your shirt rode up and—oh.

Oh.

That’s probably why Sam left in a hurry. Heat creeped up your face and it had nothing to do with the human heater at your side. But why would Sam ever think that? You and Leo were only just friends, nothing more, nothing less than good ol’ buddies—

Your face was flaming at this point. Oh. Oh no no no. 

Leo sleeped soundly and awoke pleasantly, ready to begin a day of studying hopefully by your side, only to find you ducking your head into the covers of his bed with a prolonged groan. You flopped around a bit longer, avoiding his eye and touch, and mumbled something about getting breakfast. He followed you out of bed, watching as you stumbled for his bathroom where you kept a spare toothbrush handy.

“Weird,” he murmured, not noticing how you squeaked when he shut the bathroom door behind him and joined you at the sink.

You were clinging to sanity. This was just what you needed. Finals just a week away, and you still had feelings for Leo Valdez! Running hand over your face, you glanced up to find him offering you your toothbrush, his own stuck out of his mouth. You took it wordlessly, ignoring how wonderfully cute he was.

You needed to make some calls, preferably before you combusted into flames.

[dillweedshole]

I could talk about Lily's current situation with her sister (also not current that shit has HISTORY)

But that wouldn't do a whole lot. There's plenty of people who are way the fuck better at that than I am. Even her own sister is dunking on her.

Nonono, I am more of a content person. I think it's both fun and funny to just have a laugh at how god damn goofy her content is, not the good goofy either. Just so happens that Madhouse falls under what I do and make kinda well. Yeah it's Pokemon LMFAO

I wanna talk about how silly some of the things are in PM. Expect this to be your "This thing will either not exist or get replaced in MA".

---The Mating Bond. It literally doesn't need to exist. Why would it need to? There's no conceivably not-boring way to make the story drag out so long the lifespan part of the bond ever makes sense, and the mental link can be explored in literally a hundred other ways. Worst part is: That's the single most awful thing about the entire fucking story and yet it's so important that haphazardly removing it kind of removes so much from the overall story. You can't write in something, make it so important it defines how the characters interact for the rest of the series, and then fucking hand-wave it goodbye. I think we know WHY it's there, but let's not open that can of worms here lmao. ---Gardevoirs being endangered. It was clearly introduced because she wanted to do something with it but it makes no sense even from a regular standpoint. Mate, Dittos. Apparently there's very few Gardes out there that have absolutely zero issues or diseases or whatever the fuck, and G is one of them (why is that even a thing??? it doesn't mean anything to us it's just there for tension that never gets brought up lmfao), and she's gay. Okay. Again, Dittos. They literally do not conform to gender or sex. I think there are some Pokemon that can only be bred with Dittos. Way to show you know your way around the Pokemon franchise lmfao. Then to add insult to injury, how do we fix this endangerment issue? A CLONING MACHINE, MOTHERFUCKER???? Gotta be the coppest cop-out to ever cop the fuck OUT what is THAT *foghorn* ---The Multiverse thing. ??!???!?? I literally don't have anything to say here what the fuck was that all about???

There's definitely more, I might make a video talking about everything, but holy cow some foresight or even a little hindsight might help. Most issues with this series needs more proofreading than "wife that worships me" and WAY the fuck more foresight cuz fucking christ lmao

[cordeliaflyte]

Trans. Joanna Trzeciak

A Word on Statistics

By Wisława Szymborska

Out of every hundred people

those who always know better:

fifty-two.

Unsure of every step:

almost all the rest.

Ready to help,

if it doesn't take long:

forty-nine.

Always good,

because they cannot be otherwise:

four—well, maybe five.

Able to admire without envy:

eighteen.

Led to error

by youth (which passes):

sixty, plus or minus.

Those not to be messed with:

forty and four.

Living in constant fear

of someone or something:

seventy-seven.

Capable of happiness:

twenty-some-odd at most.

Harmless alone,

turning savage in crowds:

more than half, for sure.

Cruel

when forced by circumstances:

it's better not to know,

not even approximately.

Wise in hindsight:

not many more

than wise in foresight.

Getting nothing out of life except things:

thirty

(though I would like to be wrong).

Doubled over in pain

and without a flashlight in the dark:

eighty-three, sooner or later.

Those who are just:

quite a few at thirty-five.

But if it takes effort to understand:

three.

Worthy of empathy:

ninety-nine.

Mortal:

one hundred out of one hundred—

a figure that has never varied yet.

[bopinion]

What the f***!

Why did no one tell me...

...that there's always a Monday following Sunday?

...that the weather doesn't always stick to the weather forecast?

...that colleagues are not always collegial?

...that there is not always a logical explanation for everything?

...that you don't always have to discuss everything?

...that electrical appliances only die after the warranty has expired?

...that no kitchen cleans itself?

...that in education it is not enough to repeat oneself all the time?

...that foresight is better than hindsight?

...what I don't really want to hear?

[keatsblue]

Snippet from Chapter 30 of Foresight is Better Than Hindsight, But Insight is Better Than Either One - my Dabihawks monstrosity that is nearly finished. In this chapter, we’ll see Dabi’s POV, as well as a few other twists and surprises!

Thank you for reading!

***

He wasn’t typically one for emotions—for true, Kurogiri wasn’t entirely certain that what he ‘felt’ qualified. Even still, he couldn’t deny the deep-seated agitation, something squirming and clawing deep within, that surfaced as he surveyed the scene.

The bird hero hung limply by his charge’s side, clearly unconscious. Tomura was strong, yet Kurogiri could tell he must have been holding the hero up and off the ground for quite some time. His arm was shaking, small tremors.

“Hey.” Shouta seemed to know what to do, squeezing with the comforting hand he’d placed on Tomura’s shoulder only earlier like an anchor in a storm. “We’re here.”

Even one such as he, Kurogiri mused, could read the subtext. We’re here. You’re okay. The belated use of All Might’s favored phrase did not seem so ill-fitting, coming from Eraserhead’s lips. Even Tomura, jaded as Kurogiri knew him to be, seemed to release some of the tension in his frame upon hearing it.

And yet, Kurogiri would have been remiss to allow himself to bask in the moment. “Sho— Eraserhead. Hawks appears in need of medical attention.”

His young charge was unhappy enough with him as it were. He did not need the bird’s untimely death compounding Tomura’s grief and distrust. Surely, the strange twinge he felt at the sight of Takami Keigo’s broken body, the instinctive need to both draw closer and recoil away—that was merely circumstance. Wasn’t it?

“—agree with ya there,” Shouta was saying. “Hey, kid. I’m guessing the fact that I can see a whole lot of blue off in the distance and a distinct lack of your fiery friend here is no coincidence?”

Kurogiri watched Tomura’s eyes squint as his charge processed the nickname, though there was no denying the underground hero’s statement. Still, Tomura tried to argue. “He’s handling it.”

“Yeah, no. It’s Endeavor.”

“But—”

“Don’t be stupid,” Shouta said, though his voice turned gentle. It wasn’t said in the tone of someone who meant ill, Kurogiri noted. “You’re worried, aren’t ya? I can help.”

Kurogiri watched as a myriad of emotions flashed across Tomura’s face, many of which he could not identify. Then finally, and all at once, his young charge let the line of his shoulders slump.

“I… We have to get Hawks to safety first.” Tomura looked as if the admission physically pained him. “Dabs would never forgive me if we didn’t.”

Shouta lifted an arm, crooking one finger to scratch his own chin. “Never said we’d be leavin’ him behind, kid. Listen. You, Kurogiri, take the bird to the hospital. I can stay, my quirk will be useful against Endeavor.”

A solid plan, Kurogiri had to admit. And yet—

He couldn’t quite agree.

“Pardon my interruption,” he began, because it was important to be polite. The weight of Tomura and Shouta’s gazes landed like so much cinderblock. “Eraserhead, if I recall, you bear heavy injuries. Additionally, I am unsure of the welcome two known villains, unaccompanied, would incur from any given smattering of hospital staff.”

“Would you suggest an alternative?” Shouta’s voice was carefully neutral. Still, Kurogiri felt something like shame twist deep in his gut all the same. He cast his gaze over their surroundings, hoping for something, anything, to ease their predicament.

At first, there was nothing but smoke and ruin. But…

There.

A smear of white, coming closer.

“I would not go so far as to say I would,” Kurogiri admitted. The smear of white took further form, though neither Shouta nor Tomura had noticed yet. “However, she might.”

Shouta turned, and so did Tomura, to watch the figure close upon them like a cresting wave upon the shore. Kurogiri recognized her, if only barely. She hadn’t been particularly talkative during their brief meeting, and he’d been focused on… other matters.

Indeed, as the Rabbit Hero converged upon their position, needing only one stride where men larger than her would take two, Kurogiri could see the fierceness of her expression, the way her eyes flicked ruby-red from Tomura to her broken comrade, and back.

“Miruko,” Shouta breathed, and though he hid it well, Kurogiri could parse the relief in his tone.

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