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traumxrei-archive · 2 days

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【 iv. the taste of flowers 】

summary: yuu was sick. okay, so maybe they overworked themself a little while preparing for the debutante, but that didn’t mean they needed to be on bed arrest ! what’s the worst that could happen if they snuck into the kitchen for a snack anyway ?

word count: 1.4k

author’s note: every time i write ruggie i’m like “wow i love this guy sm” and it was the same this time. i hope you like my rendition of him, ruggie likers ^^

[ the perfect debutante series | or read on ao3 (coming soon) ]

Being sick was most definitely not on Yuu's list of things to do for the Debutante. But they were. Sick. It seemed that they had over-exhausted themself after shopping all day with Floyd.

They vaguely remembered Floyd's guilty expression as he brought tea to their bedside. They had told him not to worry, but he seemed to be in low spirits for the rest of the day, according to Azul's report.

And now, well...

Yuu was sneaking into the kitchen.

After being cooped up in the room for so long, they needed some alone time. Alone time that didn't entail Riddle watching their every move like a hawk, or Silver insisting on doing everything for them. Their maids were diligent to a fault really, and Yuu was starting to feel a bit suffocated.

What they weren't expecting was that there would be someone in the kitchen. They stood behind the door. There was a soft humming and the smell of something that had their mouth-watering. Yuu cracked the door open a little. Through the gap, they spotted a pair of fluffy ears.

Ah. So it was Ruggie in the kitchen. Yuu calmed down a bit. The chance that they would be severely scolded for escaping the room had decreased. Still, they knew that someone would check their room soon, and they would get caught, so...

"Master?"

Holy crap. Their soul felt like it almost left their body.

They looked up to see Ruggie tilting his head, "I thought I heard someone, but I didn't expect it to be you, Master."

They got up from their crouched position, "Hi, uh... What are you cooking?"

"A little something for myself," Ruggie suddenly smirked, folding his arms. "What are you doing out of your room, Master? Riddle and Azul are going to freak out if they figure out you're gone."

Yuu stared at Ruggie with what they hoped was a pitiful look, "Please, I need 30 minutes of peace before they coddle me to death again."

"It's because they're worried about you. We all are," Ruggie said, going back to stirring the pot. "But I'm no snitch, shishishi~ Have a seat." There was a stool a little away from the stove, and from this close, they could finally see what Ruggie was cooking. It was...soup. A hearty-looking, vegetable soup, that was currently appealing to them with its scent.

"Are you here for some tea? Or are you hungry?" Ruggie sprinkled some more spices into his soup. "I could make you some soup?"

"What about that soup?" They blurted out. Dammit, they were trying to resist, and yet...

"This soup? It isn't worthy of Master's palette," Ruggie said before putting a lid on the small pot. "Plus, are you sure you wanna eat that?"

"What is it then?" The soup had looked normal enough to them, though they couldn't be sure. Ruggie was famed for using unconventional ingredients in his cooking before. They had heard many stories from Jamil, who found his experimentation interesting enough to talk about. (The other maid rarely talked too extensively, so Yuu had noted it in their mind when he did.)

"Erm," Ruggie's ears twitched, and he looked...almost bashful. "I used dandelions. I saw a few in the gardens and they needed to be weeded out anyway."

"Dandelions?" They cracked a smile. "So you can even cook with flowers?"

"You're not...?" Ruggie shook his head, before leaning his head back into his hands. "It's something my Bi— my grandmother taught me. There are many uses for dandelions, and she used to cook it for us in a soup."

Yuu understood it now. It had been a while since Ruggie had taken a break to go home. He tended to bulldoze through leave days that they set up by taking up other jobs. They ended up having him be their designated maid when the others went on leave. Ruggie was pleased with the setup, especially after they doubled his pay.

Money wasn't a worry to them, given that they were the heir of the Dukedom. But it had once been, back before Duke Crowley had adopted them. So they understood Ruggie's determination, especially with how fiercely he loved his family.

"Why don't you eat some?" Yuu leaned their face into their palm. "You spent all that time cooking it after all."

Ruggie's expression turned complicated for a moment. He hesitantly grabbed a bowl, ladling in a spoonful. His ears drooped for a moment before straightening. Yuu couldn't help but find the subconscious action adorable.

He finally sighed, sliding the bowl in front of them, "Here. Your puppy eyes really are unfair, Master."

"Puppy eyes?" They mumbled, but they couldn't focus on anything other than the soup that was in front of them. Ruggie pushed a spoon into their hands, and they couldn't help but immediately try it.

"Well?" Ruggie asked, ladling his own bowl. It was...amazing. The soup was salty, but rich, and all the vegetables were perfectly cooked— not too soft with a nice crunch.

And that was when Yuu abandoned two things: their etiquette training and their pride. It didn't matter that it was hot, they kept shoveling spoonfuls of soup into their mouth.

Ruggie laughed as he ate his own bowl, "Slow down there, Master. If the chefs see you they'll throw a tantrum because you're guzzling that down so fast."

"But," They sputtered, gesturing at their half finished bowl. "It's so good! I can't even tell which part the dandelion is!"

"The green leafy bits," Ruggie looked proud, if the way his grin kept growing was any indication. "I save the flowers to make tea with." The maid spun around, turning to a cupboard and grabbing what looked like a jar. In it were many dried dandelion buds. "Ah, I also have dandelion syrup," Ruggie gestured to another jar on the shelf. "Jamil taught me how to make them. They don't taste bad if I do say so myself, shishishi~"

Yuu couldn't help but laugh slightly. Ruggie's excitement about dandelion cuisine was very...adorable, if they wanted to put a word to it. "You seem very passionate about this," They said as they took the dandelion tea jar in their own hands. "Would it be okay if you put a few servings of this in my tea cabinet?"

"Huh?” Ruggie's ear flicked in surprise.

"Ah, I don't mean to take it away from you!" Yuu said, suddenly very aware that Ruggie was doing this because he was homesick. How stupid of them to ask for something so selfish. Did they forget everything after spending a few years in luxury? "I know that you're—"

"Forgive me for interrupting you, but it's not that," Grey eyes looked between the tea and their face. "It's... Thank you." There was something more behind the simple word of thanks. Yuu couldn't even begin to digest why Ruggie would say thank you at their selfish request, but seeing the smile on Ruggie's face reassured them that it wasn't anything negative.

That was when the door to the kitchen slid open, "Ruggie, would you happen to know where—"

Yuu looked up just in time to make eye contact with a surprised-looking Jade.

Oh. They were caught. Shit.

Jade smiled, ever the picture of politeness even as his aura turned more menacing, "How serendipitous. I was just looking for you, Master."

"They were just about to leave, right Master?" Ruggie said with a devilish grin. Gone was the sweet expression that just graced his face seconds before, instead replaced by this mischievous look— because he was clearly ratting them out! Yuu just hung their head. They would be scolded less if they left with Jade right away.

Jade kept an iron grip on them with just his gaze as they gave Ruggie a long hard look, "You're going on vacation after the debutante is over. With everyone else. That is a promise."

"But Master—"

"No buts! I'll give you paid leave!" Yuu said as Jade opened the door. "Just make sure to tell your family how much you miss them!" They relished the surprised look on Ruggie's face for a moment before following Jade out into the hallway. Yuu wasn't about to give Ruggie time to retaliate this time.

"Now that you've had your fun, you should return to the room before Azul and Riddle return," Jade chuckled. "They aren't back yet, but I am not above telling them of your...mm, adventures, if it came to it. Even if it's you, Master."

Their previous excitement waned at the thought of being bound to the bed again, "Let's just go now." And that was how Yuu's adventures to the kitchen ended, with surprises, some new cuisine, and a promise.

thank you for reading ^^ if you’d like to read more, check out my masterlist ! like the art ? look at more of dumple's works on insta !

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#/trau writes #live laugh love ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland #twst #ruggie bucchi x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland imagines

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loveinhawkins · 10 hours

Note

for the one word ficlet prompt thing!!

I'd love to see something steddie with the word "sun". not picky about how you use it and im good with whatever season you'd like! 💕🌻💘☀️

pre season 3 crossing paths in high school, my beloved ☀️💕 ao3

There’s a blind spot just on the outskirts of the school grounds, before you get to the woods: a little hill that if you sit at just the right angle, back pressed up against the grass, no-one can see you. Eddie goes there whenever he needs some peace—like now, reading alone during lunch. He can still hear the distant laughter of students floating along on the breeze, but it’s far enough away that it doesn’t intrude as he reads.

The air smells like summer’s approaching. His fingers skim through drying blades of grass; they feel almost as delicate as pressed flowers.

Despite the calm solitude, the words aren’t going in—and he knows that with the right teacher, he kinda gets Tennessee Williams, but Mr Hauser’s gone, and he was the only one who allowed Eddie free reign to go wild when reading aloud in class, every other sub since then would say he was being disruptive and… okay, that was true some of the time, but most of the time it was because it helped, damn it, gave him at least some hope of scraping a pass—

A shadow falls across Eddie’s page—it doesn’t loom in the way a teacher’s stance would, but he still jumps at the suddenness of it.

“Jesus!”

Eddie tips his head back against the hill, cranes his neck to look upside down. Squints against the sun.

It’s Steve Harrington, and he must have gym straight after lunch because he’s already changed into a T-shirt and shorts, which is an odd decision in Eddie’s opinion as a perpetual gym-ditcher, but whatever, it’s a free country… and it’s not exactly like the guy’s an eyesore.

”You trying to give me a heart attack, Harrington?”

“No,” Steve says shortly; he looks a mixture of embarrassed and… annoyed? Which would be a new personal best for Eddie, considering he’s done nothing to piss him off save for just sitting on the ground. “I didn’t know you were here, dude.”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the idea,” Eddie waves his hands in explanation, “welcome to my hiding spot.”

Steve scoffs. “Not much of a hiding spot if I found it.”

It comes out a little petty, sure, but nothing major, Eddie thinks; it’s not like Steve’s picking a fight.

“What’s up with you, man?” he asks lightly.

It’s something he’s pondered more than once over the last couple of years, in between the stress of failed tests and the same platitudes in school reports: Eddie must apply himself next year; Eddie must try harder; Eddie must…

In the background of it all was the enigma that was Steve Harrington. Eddie had found that you couldn’t not look at him, his eyes drawn to even the most fleeting impressions: walking past the lockers or driving in and out of the school parking lot. Seasons changed—whole damn years changed—and still the question remained: just what on earth is up with Steve Harrington these days?

At least now, asking the question is profoundly less upsetting than it had been last fall, when Eddie silently tracked the progression of bruises healing across Steve’s face—along with Billy Hargrove’s intimidating stare.

“Nothing, I’m just…” Steve sighs. “Didn’t wanna spend forever in the cafeteria when it’s so nice out, but… Honestly?”

“Nah, I’d prefer you lie to me,” Eddie says deadpan, and Steve snorts before sighing again; Eddie almost asks him to read some Tennessee Williams out loud, ‘cause he’s surprisingly got the dramatics for it.

Steve flops down onto the grass, lies right on his back with no concern for his precious hair. “I’m so damn bored, Munson.”

“Gosh, my heart bleeds,” Eddie says. “Puh-lease tell me how hard it is to have passed everything and literally not have a care in the world?”

Steve blinks up at him, frowning. “Shit, are you repeating again?”

He sounds earnest, and there’s something in his phrasing that means Eddie isn’t nearly as defensive as normal—maybe because it’s about repeating again rather than failing.

Eddie lifts up the script in demonstration. “Not exactly reading this for fun, dude.”

“God, I’d take that over gym right now.”

“Okay, you’re bullshitting me. You love gym, Harrington. You, like,” Eddie gestures at Steve’s get-up, “actually make an effort and everything.”

“Not when the semester’s almost over, man. We don’t even have a cover right now, so we’re just left to, like, do whatever, who gives a shit. I’m bored outta my mind.”

“Tragic,” Eddie says—gym without a teacher sounds like a dream; he’d literally just leave. “I’m weeping for you.”

Steve rolls his eyes. But it doesn’t feel like a dismissal, even when he doesn’t reply and just lies back in the grass with another sigh.

So… Eddie mulls it over. What the hell, Steve’s graduating; it’s not like they’ll cross paths after that.

“Bet you can’t run to the woods and back before the bell rings.”

Steve sits up, a gleam of interest in his eyes. He checks his watch. “The bell’s gonna ring in, like, two minutes, Munson.”

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were so bored. Well, if you’re not up to the challenge—”

“No, no,” Steve says, standing up. “I didn’t say that.” He actually gets into position like he’s on the running track, looks at Eddie expectantly.

Eddie covers his bemusement with theatrics; he mimes firing a starting pistol.

And… shit, Steve Harrington can run.

Objectively, it’s not like it’s a surprise; he wasn’t exactly bringing up the rear in the swim and basketball teams. Still, it’s one thing knowing it, another to see it up close like this.

Eddie puts his book back in his bag, watching as Steve disappears from view. Reluctantly, he edges away from the hill—if he doesn’t, he’ll risk being late for class again by the time he walks over, and… He thinks of ‘86, what has to be his third time lucky. Start as you mean to go on, and all that.

Eddie turns back to look. Sure enough, Steve comes sprinting out of the woods, racing up to the hill right as the bell rings.

“Still counts, Munson!” he calls, a little breathless.

And Eddie knows that he’s not really solved the mystery of what’s going on with Steve Harrington.

What he does know is that Steve is smiling as he raises a fist in victory, the sun turning his hair golden for just a moment; he looks utterly free—as he should be, graduation’s right around the corner.

And Eddie can’t begrudge him that.

”Inspirational,” he shouts, cupping a hand around his mouth as he walks backwards. “I’ll get John Hughes on the phone, stat.”

The bell stops. Eddie turns around before he can trip on his own feet.

He’s getting closer to the school building now, can feel the change in the air, cliques unwillingly disbanding as teachers move them on.

But as he heads to class, Eddie faintly hears evidence that the moment hasn’t been broken entirely: Steve Harrington’s laughter, drifting across on the wind.

#i’m so obsessed with the last days of school as a setting #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

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lav3nd3erhaz3 · 1 day

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THE 1 - kate martin x fem!oc!

WARNINGS- idk if there are any so if there is pls tell me!

DNI- men and minors.

SUMMARY- leia attends her first iowa wbb game and it goes different then she expected and she ends up feeling things she shouldnt be feeling.

I GUESS YOU NEVER KNOW, NEVER KNOW

JANUARY 25, 2023

CARVER-HAWKEYE ARENA

I walked into the arena for my first Iowa basketball game, while wearing my best friend Jada's jersey. I sat in my seat, it wasn't very far from the court so I could see well. I took my phone out of my pocket and opened up my snap. I saw a snap of Jada. She was sitting in the locker room. The text box on the picture read “Can we get a fit check 🙏”.

As I studied the photo I saw a gorgeous blonde in the photo with her. I replied with a snap of my jersey saying “Your jersey or no jersey! Good luck tonight Pookie!!!”. I sent the snap and closed out of my snap to my home screen. I opened the messages to see a message from my boyfriend James.

LOML

Hey.

We need to talk.

LEIA HOWARD

About what?

James, you're scaring me.

LOML

Just come over to my place at noon tomorrow.

Read 3:25

What did James mean by ‘we need to talk.’ We were doing so well. He had just left a week ago for a trip to California for his hockey team and came back yesterday. We talked while he was gone but not for very long, which was normal. I had my classes to worry about and he has his hockey team to worry about.

When I looked back up, the girls were on the court. I saw Jada warming up with Gabbie, the only girl I had met on the team so far. Earlier, at our apartment, Jada had mentioned going out with the team and suggested that I go with her. I hadn't considered going till now, I thought about it until the warmup music abruptly came to an end and I heard the commenters speaking but I didn't understand what they were saying.

AFTER THE GAME

Jada must have seen me because a security guard had come to escort me to her which was on the court near the bench.

“YOU DID SO WELL BABES!” I told her as I ran up to her, jumped into her arms, and wrapped myself around her. None of her teammates even turned to look at us as the interaction happened.

“OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR COMING!!”She exclaimed back to me, matching my energy.

As we let go of the hug we both noticed the team was heading to the locker rooms so we followed. I put my hand in her hand and we started talking. We walked like that to the locker rooms.

When we made it to the locker Jada went to her little cubby and I followed. I made my way through the large group of girls to get just to Jada who seemed like she was halfway across the world. When I made it to her locker room I realized I hadn't told her about James or me wanting to go out with her and the rest of the girls.

“I need to tell you something weird that happened with James today,” I told her with a serious tone.

“Leia what happened…” She questioned me as she slipped off the yellow and black jersey that matched the one I was wearing. She traded it out for an Iowa women's basketball sweatshirt.

“He said he wants to talk…” I told her looking down trying to ignore the tears that were falling from my eyes. As I finished my sentence the same blonde from the snap Jada sent me earlier had appeared next to me and Jada.

“Hi! Are you still coming out with us tonight?” The tall blonde questioned my best friend.

“Yeah of course Kate,” Jada replied quickly, turning to me as she finished her sentence. “My offer still stands, Lei, if you wanna come with us, I think it will help get your mind off James for the rest of the night. We can listen to Hamilton while getting ready, '' she said, trying to persuade me, whispering the last part of the sentence.

“Uhm.. yeah sure..” I said, a wave of nervousness traveling over my body, making my cheeks heat up.

“Ok great. I guess I'll see you guys later. It was nice kinda sorta meeting you Leia…” As she finished her sentence I felt myself wanting to go out more just from that small interaction.

As the blonde left, Jada spoke up. “Thats Kate, she's really sweet, I think you guys would get along so well.” The comment made my cheeks heat up once again.

“She seems nice..” I commented as Jada turned around to collect the rest of her stuff.

AFTER GETTING HOME FROM THE CLUB

Those girls were super sweet, they treated me just like a player. Throughout the night they made sure I was included, I had even gotten close with some of the girls, especially Caitlin and Molly. I as well had forgotten all about what was going to happen the next day.

When me and Jada got back we stumbled out of the apartment. I went to my room and changed into a pair of sweatpants and a random oversized shirt I found in my drawer. I walked into the bathroom and put my brunette hair into a messy bun and started my skincare routine. I was halfway done brushing my teeth when I got a bunch of notifications coming from my phone that was in my pocket that was vibrating rapidly.

When I read through them carefully I noticed that they were all from the basketball girls following me on Instagram. But one of them stood out to me… Kate, Seeing her name gave me butterflies in my stomach the way James did when we first met. I Ignored the feelings I felt and finished brushing my teeth. When I finished I went straight to my room.

As I was walking I passed Jada's room to see she wasn't in her room. I just assumed she was getting a snack or something from the kitchen but when I entered my room there she passed out and noticed taking up all the room on my queen-sized bed. I squeezed my way into my bed and took as much blanket as I could get from Jada hogging it. As I finally got comfortable Jada flipped over.

“I'm so proud of you for going out tonight Leia, the girls liked you, and they said that next time we go out to invite you. I know everything feels bad right now but tomorrow's gonna be ok I promise and even if it isn't you got me and the team. I love you lei-lei, good night.” She muttered, yawning as she finished her sentence. “Thanks, Jades, I love you so much too, Sweet dreams,” I said as I heard her soft breathing signaling she was sleeping. I fell asleep soon after finishing my sentence.

dividers - @saradika

hi lovies! i hope you like this! i made half of it in the middle of a mental breakdown so half of it i didnt even know what i was writing. Not a lot of kate and leia interactions but i promise next chapter leia is gonna be freaking out!! i dont know if im gonna just do the 1 lyrics for the chapter names or like different folklore lyrics and songs. and for the goeriga fic it seems like saturn is gonna win so im gonna start working on the fic very soon. pls send in request for fics, hcs or blurbs for kate, georgia, paige, and aubrey. they are the ONLY people im writing for, and a anon asked for dorka but i dont really feel comfortable writing for her because when i first started watching wbb dorka was my comfort player, she just helped me through so much so it makes me feel weird writng something for her but im open to do platonic fics for her! ill be posting chapters every monday for this fic!

-love annie! 🎀

#Spotify #kate martin x oc #kate martin fic #taylor swift #folklore #the 1 #cutie patooties #jada gyamfi #iowa wbb #gabbie marshall #caitlin clark #iowa #kate martin 20 #kate martin #leia howard #kate martin x reader #kate martin loml

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 days

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Harry was never really Dumbledore's man

So, in HBP Harry says himself:

“Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you,” said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” “Yeah, I am,” said Harry.

(HBP, 348)

But, I'm here to argue Harry actually has many many doubts and reservations about Dumbledore throughout all books (even HBP), and I find it interesting how Harry convinced the Wizarding world (and the readers) that he's Dumbledore's man when he isn't. Not really.

(Just makes me all the more annoyed at him calling his son Albus...)

I'm going to go through some examples of Harry showing his doubts about Dumbledore way before book 7. Because Harry is an abused, distrusting boy, and Dumbledore isn't actually an exception to that until very late into the books. And even when Harry chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions, he never fully trusts his judgment.

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?” “Well, ” Hermione exploded, “if he did — I mean to say that’s terrible — you could have been killed.” “No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could….”

(PS, 217)

This quote above is from the ending of Philosopher's Stone and the outlook Harry, Ron, and Hermione have on Dumbledore and his behavior is the same as seen in the later books. So I wanted to talk about each of them and how they see Dumbledore because this quote really sets the tone for the rest of the series.

Ron is doubtful and distrustful. The situation is odd, and he's clever, he analyzed the situation and came to a frightening conclusion — the whole ordeal seemed planned by Dumbledore. And Ron isn't scared of voicing this question.

Hermione, while not always a rule-follower, respects Dumbledore and his authority. A lot. So, she doesn't believe Dumbledore could've planned it as it would reflect badly on his character and authority. Hermione is a very loyal person, and once she decides she respects someone she is willfully blind to their flaws (we see it with her later in the series).

Harry, while he's clever enough to notice the same things Ron did and come to the same conclusion — that Dumbledore planned for an 11-year-old to face Voldemort — he attributes good intentions to Dumbledore. Harry sees the situation and draws his conclusions, but chooses to hope/believe Dumbledore's intentions were good ones.

Harry’s brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry’s own parents, and so many others. . . . At last he forced himself to speak. “You’re not,” he said, his quiet voice full of hatred. “Not what?” snapped Riddle. “Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days —” The smile had gone from Riddle’s face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. “Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(CoS, 282)

This is one of the scenes people call to to show how much faith Harry has in Dumbledore (even Dumbledore himself), the thing is, Harry says (in his mind) he's just saying things to try and scare Tom. To try and buy time, or unbalance Tom so he may have a chance at escape.

The important note is that Harry doesn't actually believe what he's saying to Tom. He's just saying what he thinks would bother Tom the most.

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn’t about to tell the room about it. He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

(GoF, 310)

This part about telling no one about his wand's connection to Voldemort is true. He never told anyone by that point in GoF. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Dumbledore, not even Sirius.

As I mentioned above, Harry is abused and distrustful. He's not at all Dumbledore's perfect soldier who trusts him with everything. In GoF, Harry decides against telling Dumbledore about his dreams and the pain in his scar:

“Your scar hurt? Harry, that’s really serious. . . . Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I’ll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. . . . Maybe there’s something in there about curse scars. . . .” Yes, that would be Hermione’s advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. [...] As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, fulllength wizard’s robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry’s owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. Even inside his head the words sounded stupid.

(GoF, 21)

Harry doesn't wish to share secrets with Dumbledore, nor does he feel comfortable to go to him with his troubles (his go-to adult while Sirius was around was always Sirius). Again, Hermione is mentioned as the one who trusts Dumbledore's authority, in Harry's head, but he's right, he knows her well.

Harry actually spends a good portion of the series purposefully trying to hide information from Dumbledore. (I'm saying 'trying ' because Dumbledore always found out, but not because Harry told him).

“He seemed to think it was best,” said Hermione rather breathlessly. “Dumbledore, I mean.” “Right,” said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig’s beak and found that he was not at all sorry. “I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —” Ron began. “Yeah?” said Harry, raising his eyebrows. “Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?” “Well, no — but that’s why he’s had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time -” Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed except him. “Didn’t work that well, though, did it?” said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. “Had to look after myself after all, didn’t I?” “He was so angry,” said Hermione in an almost awestruck voice. “Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.” “Well, I’m glad he left,” Harry said coldly. “If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.”

(OotP, 63)

Harry is angry here, true, but he doubts Dumbledore's idea of what's "safe" for him. He's actually glad for the dementors because he doubts Dumbledore would've brought him over if it wasn't an emergency.

And Harry is right to be doubtful and suspicious. He's right that he's less safe at the Dursleys than at Grimmauld Place. He's right to feel angry and betrayed at literally everyone knowing he's being followed except for him. He's right Dumbledore probably wouldn't have brought him if it wasn't for the dementor attack. Harry is correct in each and every one of his assessments of Dumbledore's character and decisions here.

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It’s more like . . . his mood, I suppose. I’m just getting flashes of what mood he’s in. . . . Dumbledore said something like this was happening last year. . . . He said that when Voldemort was near me, or when he was feeling hatred, I could tell. Well, now I’m feeling it when he’s pleased too. . . .” There was a pause. The wind and rain lashed at the building. “You’ve got to tell someone,” said Ron. “I told Sirius last time.” “Well, tell him about this time!” “Can’t, can I?” said Harry grimly. “Umbridge is watching the owls and the fires, remember?” “Well then, Dumbledore —” “I’ve just told you, he already knows,” said Harry shortly, getting to his feet, taking his cloak off his peg, and swinging it around himself. “There’s no point telling him again.” Ron did up the fastening of his own cloak, watching Harry thoughtfully. “Dumbledore’d want to know,” he said. Harry shrugged. “C’mon . . . we’ve still got Silencing Charms to practice . . .”

(OotP, 382)

Remember I mentioned Harry hiding things from Dumbledore? This is one of such occasions. There are more in GoF that I didn't copy, but this is an example of Voldemort-related, dangerous information Harry is hiding from Dumbledore because he doesn't trust him and doesn't feel comfortable telling him things.

“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m getting sick of my scar hurting, and I’m getting bored walking down that corridor every night.” He rubbed his forehead angrily. “I just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —” “That’s not funny,” said Hermione sharply. “Dumbledore doesn’t want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn’t have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.” “I am working!” said Harry, nettled. “You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!” “Maybe . . .” said Ron slowly. “Maybe what?” said Hermione rather snappishly. “Maybe it’s not Harry’s fault he can’t close his mind,” said Ron darkly. “What do you mean?” said Hermione. “Well, maybe Snape isn’t really trying to help Harry. . . .” Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other. “Maybe,” he said again in a lower voice, “he’s actually trying to open Harry’s mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —” “Shut up, Ron,” said Hermione angrily. “How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough.” “He used to be a Death Eater,” said Ron stubbornly. “And we’ve never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . .” “Dumbledore trusts him,” Hermione repeated. “And if we can’t trust Dumbledore, we can’t trust anyone.”

(OotP, 554)

Again we see the same exact dynamic from first year. Hermione is loyal to Dumbledore, not even considering he might be wrong about something, or not have their best interests at heart. Ron and Harry on the other hand, are both open to the possibility that things aren't so simple. They don't think Dumbledore is intentionally harming Harry, but they think he's wrong about Snape. Something Hermione, Arthur and Molly would never consider.

(This is actually the most annoying thing in Hermione's character for me, her unshakable faith in Dumbledore, who doesn't deserve her trust)

“. . . so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —” He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hands. “You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?” “Harry —” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

(HBP, 552)

Even in book 6, the book Harry grows the most comfortable and trusting towards Dumbledore, even then, he doesn't trust Dumbledore. He thinks (and somewhat rightly so because he doesn't know of Snape and Dumbledore's plan) that Dumbledore is wrong about Snape. that Dumbledore is wrong about Malfoy. Harry doesn't trust that whatever protections Dumbledore would leave would be enough (and they weren't).

Even at the end of HBP, the point in the series where Harry has the most faith in Dumbledore, Harry still doesn't trust Dumbledore's judgment or his ability to protect the school. Even after Dumbledore calls Harry out on it, telling him the safety of the students is important to him, Harry still tells Ron and Hermione to get the DA to protect the school without notifying Dumbledore.

And Dumbledore raised Harry to feel responsible for the school's safety, Harry is doing what he was "bred" to do. But he does it behind Dumbledore's back, because like every adult, Harry deep down expects to be let down. After all, he's used to saving the school himself.

So, no, Harry never really trusted Dumbledore fully. At least, not Dumbledore's judgment. Harry does believe Dumbledore's intentions are good for the most part, even if ineffective.

“He never told me his sister was a Squib,” said Harry, without thinking, still cold inside. “And why on earth would he tell you?” screeched Muriel, swaying a little in her seat as she attempted to focus upon Harry [...] Where was saintly Albus while Ariana was locked in the cellar? Off being brilliant at Hogwarts, and never mind what was going on in his own house!” “What d’you mean, locked in the cellar?” asked Harry. “What is this?” Doge looked wretched. Auntie Muriel cackled again and answered Harry. [...] Numbly Harry thought of how the Dursleys had once shut him up, locked him away, kept him out of sight, all for the crime of being a wizard. Had Dumbledore’s sister suffered the same fate in reverse: imprisoned for her lack of magic? Had Dumbledore truly left her to her fate while he went off to Hogwarts to prove himself brilliant and talented?

(DH, 135-137)

And in Deathley Hollows, Harry is very quick to start questioning and doubting Dumbledore. Especially when compared to Hermione:

“Harry—” But he shook his head. Some inner certainty had crashed down inside him; it was exactly as he had felt after Ron left. He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? Ron, Dumbledore, the phoenix wand . . . “Harry.” She seemed to have heard his thoughts. “Listen to me. It—it doesn’t make very nice reading—” “Yeah, you could say that—” “—but don’t forget, Harry this is Rita Skeeter writing.” “You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn’t you?” “Yes, I—I did.” She hesitated, looking upset, cradling her tea in her cold hands.

(DH, 311)

Harry is hurt, he feels betrayed, because while he never 100% trusted Dumbledore's judgment, he trusted his intentions. He trusted Dumbledore was good and cared for him. He feels cold and betrayed, showing trust in his intentions. But his readiness to accept Skeeter's and Muriel's accusations so quickly shows he always had his doubts about Dumbledore and they never really left, even if he wanted to trust him, he never did, not fully.

Hermione, on the other hand, who was always loyal and trusted Dumbledore (both his intentions and judgment) 100%, tries to rationalize Dumbledore's actions and convince herself everyone who says bad things about him is lying.

Harry doesn't. Because out of the Golden Trio, Hermione was always Dumbledore's woman, Ron and Harry... not really. Not as much.

“That old berk,” muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. “Thought the sun shone out of my brother’s every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it.” Harry kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Dumbledore that had riddled him for months now. He had made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. He met Aberforth’s gaze, which was so strikingly like his brothers’: The bright blue eyes gave the same impression that they were X-raying the object of their scrutiny, and Harry thought that Aberforth knew what he was thinking and despised him for it. “Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry, very much,” said Hermione in a low voice. “Did he now?” said Aberforth. “Funny thing how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he’d left ’em well alone.”

(DH, 478)

More of how Harry thinks about Dumbledore, showing, again, how he always had his doubts and reservations but he chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions because otherwise, he doesn't think he has any hope to defeat Voldemort. He chooses to keep following Dumbledore's path because he has no real choice but to trust what he sees as the only path that'll lead to Voldemort's destruction. But Harry has plenty of doubts about Dumbledore.

Hermione, on the other hand, has little to no doubts. She doesn't allow herself to doubt.

And this pattern, of Harry doubting Dumbledore again and again, never truly trusting him, just trusting his plan will kill Voldemort... like, how does that lead Harry to want to name his kid 'Albus'? I just don't get it...

TL;DR

Harry likes to say he's Dumbledore's man, but he always had his reservations, even when he choose to ignore them since trusting Dumbledore's plan felt like his only chance at survival. Hermione is much more trusting of Dumbledore than Harry is.

#harry potter #hp #harry potter thoughts #hp thoughts #harry potter meta #hp meta #hollowedtheory #hp theory #harry james potter #harry potter analysis #albus dumbledore

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hahskeleton · 1 day

Text

Frogs - Harpy AU drabble

It’s harpy Sun’s first appearance! I have a sketch for his design page, but now I have to go work in contest winner stuff :3

reblogs and feedback is appreciated!

Word Count: 1,230

Read Time: ~5-6 min (depends on reading speed)

Content Warnings: Lichtenberg figures, brief screaming, (idk what else to put lmao)

“Eclipse, have you seen Sun today?” Moon’s voice pierced the air, his groggy tone the same as it seemed it always had been.

Eclipse shrugged, standing up from a huge rice bag they used as a chair, “He left this morning. I have not seen him since.”

Moon scoffed, “I’m sure he’s gone foraging again.” He rolled his eyes, walking over to a handmade, wood cabinet filled with things Eclipse claimed to have found along the trail to the forbidden forest on one edge of the valley. Truthfully, Eclipse was quite the thief, and also quite the liar. He’s never been caught, and Moon’s never been able to tell his truths and lies apart.

Eclipse walked over to the edge of the cave, staggering outside where the path turned to a cliff just about six paces forwards, “The sky’s getting dark, Moon.” Eclipse called back in, “I’m sure it’ll rain. Perhaps storm.”

Moon took out a pan and walked over to the edge as well, looking for any sign of Sun, “If it begins to rain, tell me. I’ll be cooking up lunch.”

“Let me guess,” Eclipse knew exactly what they’d be having, “Bacon and eggs?” Sun usually cooked for them, and when Moon cooked it was always the same thing. Moon’s favorite. He nodded silently.

Eclipse watched the clouds roll slowly across the grey sky. It was humid and a breeze was barely living enough to nudge a leaf. “Moon, I’m going for a fly.” He said abruptly, stretching his large wings. Despite being the youngest of the three brothers, he had the largest wingspan.

“What? Hold on, you can’t just leave!”

Eclipse shrugged, taking five steps forward, “Sun did.” He took the sixth step and a seventh, striding right off the edge. He let himself drop for a moment until he gracefully opened his wings and glided up, flapping them as needed. He flew quickly, swiftly away from the cave, not even bothering to look back. He already knew Moon was glaring at him as he soared away.

For a long while, Eclipse flew through the mountains and fields, coming to a place he knew Sun would be. There was a huge lake several leagues from their home, and around that lake was a beautiful scene of trees, moss, vines, and stones. Sun loves to forage there, and the best part for him was Moon didn’t know about it.

Sun loved Moon more than anything in the world, but even twins as close as those two need something to keep to themselves. Eclipse came across it one day when following Sun because he was particularly bored that day. It was their secret from that time forward.

Eclipse flew low to the water, reaching his arm down and letting it drag gracefully through the lake, making water fly up behind him. He smiled at his reflection in the perfectly smooth water when he picked up his hand as he reached the shore.

He landed slowly and with a clatter of rocks, stones, and sand, then proceeded to walk into the trees. As he went, he spotted the clearing of trees and where on a rock, a yellow harpy sat with his back facing Eclipse, talking to something.

Eclipse walked through the soft grass, stopping just at the edge of the trees, “Moon’s worried.” He spoke suddenly, cracking the silence.

Sun nearly jumped out of his cloak, turning around with something hidden in his hands, “Eclipse, don’t do that!” He hollered, a smile on his face.

Eclipse smiled too, but his eyes were set on Sun’s hands that he now very slowly brung to the front of his torso. “What do you have there?” He grinned subtly. Sun flung his hands out towards him and giggled, obviously about to show him what he’d found.

He unfolded his hands and revealed a perfectly green frog that he now held by its chest with both hands, its webbed feet hanging down. “Look at this little guy!” Sun said with glee, clearly fascinated by the amphibian.

“Ew!” Eclipse screeched, holding up his hands as if to guard himself from the small animal, “Gross! Gross, put it down!” He yelled loudly, “I hate frogs!”

“I know!” Sun laughed, walking closer to Eclipse with the green creature still in his outstretched arms.

Eclipse squeaked with disgust, slowly accelerating into a run to get away from Sun’s frog, who chased him with it. “Sun, quit it!” Eclipse stopped and smacked the frog out of his brother’s hands. The frog was dropped, and it landed on its side, quickly hopping away like nothing had happened.

“Hey!” Sun gasped, “Don’t smack small animals like that!”

Eclipse cackled lightheartedly, placing his clawed hands upon his hips, “I needed to defend myself from disgusting, horrible, animals like that.”

The two brothers had now ended up near the lake, running wildly out of the small forest with that frog. Eclipse looked up at the sky, seeing the clouds getting darker and darker by the second, it seemed.

“Is it going to storm?” The squeaky voice of the cloaked harpy rung in the hot, humid air. The moisture made Eclipse’s clothes uncomfortably sticky to his feathers and his skin. “We should get back before it does.” And with that, without warning, Sun took off towards the fluffy grey skies, flying back towards the cave.

Eclipse followed, gliding a little closer to the clouds than his brother. He flew over what looked like his bright colored shadow, but it was just Sun. Despite Sun and Moon being twins, Eclipse and Sun looked more alike. Moon looked like the odd one out of the trio.

The sky far above them began to rumble and rain started to roll out of the angry clouds. Eclipse knew Sun hated flying in a storm, even the rain, so when he started to fly faster, it didn’t surprise him at all.

Eclipse did his very best to catch up with Sun, but for some reason he just couldn’t fly fast enough. He became blinded by frustration and rain, soaking him an unbelievable amount. As he soon realized he had no clue where Sun had gone, he also figured out he didn’t know which way was home.

Damn it.

Eclipse flew in all directions, trying to catch something to indicate he was going the right way, but he didn’t spot anything at all. He was lost, wasn’t he?

The next few seconds were all a blur. He heard his name being yelled, then a crack of thunder and lightning, and then… he was struck. His own screams weren’t the only ones he heard.

Eclipse screamed, flinging his head off his so-called pillow and breathing faster than a stallion could run. He clutched his shoulder in pain and grasped the collar of his shirt and pulled it aside, brushing away a few feathers to reveal his Lichtenberg Figure. The scar that the blasted flash of lightning had given him.

Sometimes, he wished his brothers hadn’t left him. Sometimes he hated them for doing so. But most of the time, he pretended he never knew them.

However, it was times like these he wanted Sun or Moon to comfort him, perhaps sooth him with a cup of honey-lemon water. Help the pain of his past go away. But alas, his mistake drove them away, and he knew, they were never going to come back.

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quitealotofsodapop · 3 days

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After that whole mess, they, of course, go back to FFM. Both because the cubs had a long day and needed a nap and also because neither Wukong nor MK had the energy to reset their glamours, and the last thing any of them wanted was to be swarmed. Wukong had to be stopped form going into a cleaning spree as soon as he realized he was having guests over for the first time in years and had to be told to sit down since, out of everyone there, be had been the one in the worst condition when all was said and done. They still enjoyed their smaller, more private New Years celebration and getting to run around in MK's childhood home

referencing.

Absolutely. Wukong is taking all the cubs home for a well-deserved rest (the eclipse twins argue that they aren't tired [lie]), and to properly introduce himself to the Noodle shop gang/aka his reincarnated Pilgrim brothers.

Wukong is a dedciated King to his people, but hasn't really let people "get close" since the Samadhi Fire incident/DBK's imprisonment. So he's a little rusty on how to play host in his own palace. The Stalwarts and the island's subjects are worried since they noticed some sort of havoc going on in the mainland while their King was gone, but Wukong brushes them off.

When Wukong attempts to clean up and play host, Pigsy quickly makes him sit down since; "You're pregnant and nearly got all your magic drained out of you. I'll make dinner." Which immediately puts the pig in the monkeys' good graces. Wukong does have to admit, piglet's grandson makes amazing noodle soup.

Mei (+MK) helps Pigsy out in the kitchen, and Wukong has a pang of nostalgia and grief at how similar the little dragon looks to Ao Lie. Her fun-loving attitude quickly gains her fans amongst the cubs, even if they try to eat her phone once or twice.

Lots of talking happens - especially on the subject of MK being Wukong's eldest cub + who exactly "dad" is. Wukong is still a little too upset at Macaque to give more than a curt explaination that he left on "a vacation" and has been missing since then.

Pigsy blurts out that he'll; "Sock the punk in the nose the second he sees 'em for leaving his family like that". It gets a laugh out of the king at least. Gao Cuilan did the same to Bajie when he finally returned after the journey.

Tang is ofc in Jttw-nerd heaven. Asking so many questions that MK has to interupt him to give his mom some space. The Stalwarts happily fill in the more embarassing/sappy details of their King and Warrior's romance, which delights the scholar (and mortifies SWK and MK) to no end.

Sandy is quickly the cubs favorite new uncle - though that could be because he smells like old uncle Sha Wujing. The Eclipse Twins are sus though. He makes himself busy serving up tea and addressing any emotional issues Wukong could be going through rn, especially with another little monkey on the way. Wukong is touched.

The Demon Bull Family makes an appearance - mainly to offer their apologies and for DBK to start making amends with his little bro. DBK quickly gets swarmed by the cubs he missed out on meeting, bellowing with laughter as they climb all over his horns. PIF is very aloof as per usual, but expresses her condolences for Macaque's disappearance. Wukong can tell that the former celestial princess is worried about her old friend, even if she doesn't care to show it.

Red Son is super confused, holding a casserole dish of non-spicy barbeque (DBK uncharacterically insisted, apparently the Monkey King hated spicy food), and just blinking at the fact that the "Noodle Boy" and "Pony Girl" he'd been fighting with were actually his calf-hood chums! Yuebei tries to eat his hair the moment he's offered to hold one of the Nodelets for the first time.

Overall the New Years "afterparty" (as Mei dubbed it) goes far better than the original celebration. Even if MK is super-grounded for not telling Wukong he became a superhero + lying who he actually was to the gang.

+Bonus: I love the idea of the cubs being super cranky during the events in the Celestial Realm. And when the spider gang attempt to stop the gang on the airship; little Yuebei starts shrieking with anger over her lack of sleep + missing both parents, and blasts them away with her non-fatal lazer eyes. It's one of many signs that MK's family aren't normal demons. Hunstman is a little embarassed that he was technically defeated by a baby.

#post jttw stone egged au #jttw stone egged au #sun wukong #dad sun wukong #pregnancy tw #lmk pigsy #lmk mk #lmk demon bull family #qi xiaotian #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk aus

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raineandsky · 2 days

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#112

Villainy is at an all time low. It’s practically non-existent, and with it, the villains.

Heroes have tried hunting them down. Searched every corner of the city, every abandoned building, every dark alleyway. Something’s going on.

The agency is humming with nervous energy. Something’s happening. This is on purpose. The villains are in hiding because they’re planning something big. Where are they all? We have to stop them. They have to be somewhere.

The villains are gone for so long, the agency strung so high, the place practically explodes when a pair of heroes happen across one on their usual jaunt around the city.

The hero is in the midst of buying a coffee when they come through the doors with bright smiles and cheers of victory. The villain flails between them, screaming bloody murder, as other heroes crowd around with questions and praises. You found one? Where were they? What’s going on? Have they said anything? This is a good sign. Good job, guys. The start of the end.

The heroes continue through with their prize, others following them like a cape of praise and cheers, and the hero gets a chance to glance at the villain. A familiar face. One of the ones the hero saw frequently in the field, one they’re well acquainted with. Of course.

The superhero throws them into an interrogation room not even fifteen minutes later. The hero’s coffee is still half-full. Might as well play the optimist, considering the situation.

One of the same heroes as before brings the villain in. The villain is, to put it lightly, rabid. The hero can see the scratches on the other hero’s arms, though he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s still too busy basking in everyone’s praise to care.

“Be careful,” he says cheerfully as he wrestles the villain into the chair opposite. “This one goes for the eyes.”

The villain’s never done that to the hero on the streets. Something’s going on, they can agree with that, but something’s changed.

The other hero steps back with a grin as the villain snaps at him, teeth bared like an animal, and with a quick thumbs up to the hero he turns on his heel and leaves them alone with the villain.

Rage is not an emotion the villain has ever expressed outwardly. Anger, sure, but not quite this raw. They yank their hands desperately to try and free themselves, the chair they were put in already tipped over. The table jolts with the force, and the hero’s half-full coffee tips over and onto the floor.

The hero can only think to watch. They’re not going to get anything out of them like this. They’ll wait for the villain for them to tire themself out.

After ten long minutes, it’s clear that isn't an option. Where are they getting all this energy from? They’ve been in the agency before, back when they were amateur enough to get caught, and they were never this frantic. They sat quietly, answered the questions the hero threw at them, and casually broke themself out that same night.

“[Villain]—”

“Let go of me!”

The villain’s breath is haggard, their arms shaking with the effort, but they haven’t stopped. The hero’s confusion is turning into worry incredibly fast.

“[Villain],” they try, carefully, tentatively. “Where is everyone?”

The villain’s eyes snap up to them like they’re seeing them for the first time. The first thing the hero notices is that it’s not rage in their face—it’s terror.

The hero holds their hands out pacifically. “You’re okay,” they continue. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The fear gets quickly masked by a layer of hatred. “Let go of me.”

The words come out calmer, quieter—seething. The villain looks like they’d break the hero in half given the opportunity. “Let go of me,” they repeat—and then, a little softer, “you have to.”

The hero’s heart pulls. A hint. Something to go off.

“Why would I do that?”

The villain’s pulling has slowed, their entire body leaning back against their cuffs. They sag slightly, exhausted, their eyes dropped to the table. “You have to.”

Less helpful a second time. The hero gets to their feet, glancing at the mirror to the side of the room. “I’m going to take them back,” they tell it, to the superhero inevitably on the other side. “We’re not getting anything out of them today.”

“No!” The villain cringes away when the hero reaches for them like they’re coming at them with a knife, and they almost throw themself back to their frenzy. “Don’t touch me!”

The villain kicks a foot out and misses, thankfully, as the hero cautiously edges into their space. The hero reaches forwards to detach the villain’s cuffs from the table, and as if the action makes something crack, the villain lets out a grief-stricken sob.

The hero steps back before they can stop themself, alarmed. The villain turns their face away with another choke of a cry, pushing themself as far away from the hero as the table will allow. “Let go of me,” they say again, but it’s not angry anymore. It sounds defeated. Scared.

The hero moves past them and they lurch back like they're contagious, watching nervously as the hero carefully sets the chair back upright. “Sit down,” the hero says gently.

They nudge the chair towards the villain. The villain stares at it for a moment, letting the first streaks of tears paint their face, before they give in and sit. The single motion is laboured, tired—how long have they been fighting back for?

“If you tell me what’s going on,” the hero prompts carefully, “we might be able to think about letting you go.”

“N– No, I have to go now. Before it’s too late.” Another hint, another step in the right direction. The hero glances at the mirror.

“That isn’t an option, [Villain], you know that.” The hero settles back in their own chair. “If you tell us what’s happening, though, we might be able to help you.”

The villain shakes their head shortly. “I can’t,” they mumble, and it comes out entirely heartbroken.

“Well,” the hero starts slowly, “let’s start with what you can tell us.”

The villain hesitates, but after a moment they nod, slight, barely perceivable. The hero nods too—a step in the right direction. The first hint in the giant puzzle that is everything.

#creative writing #writblr #writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #heroes and villains #hero x villain #it feels like agesssss since i wrote something this long #and i missed it!!! feel like im stretchin me legs after a long time #and yes i posted something p long a lil while back. i wrote that after this lmao

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fuck-customers · 3 days

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So this customer placed an order late last week and one of the items was special order (listed as such on the website, with an estimated timeframe) so I sent them an email letting them know we'd send the rest right away and restating how long the special order would take.

They email back upset that the website didn't say the item was "backordered" (again, it says right on the website this is special order and takes longer to ship, also special order is not the same thing as backorder) and demand that we cancel that item because they're in a hurry. I tell them we can do that if they want, but it will actually make the rest of the order take significantly longer, because instead of some items going out that day or the next and the special order going out later, we'll have to take the whole order out of the queue and put it on hold until the refund is processed and an updated invoice is generated, which can take 2-3 business days, and then it will go back into the queue at the end of the line, which will be another 2-3 business days to get through shipping again. I ask them to confirm that knowing this, they still want to cancel the special order item. They say yes, they definitely want to cancel it.

Today (three business days later) right before closing they call in blazing mad that their order hasn't shipped. I pull up the order and recognize it, and tell them hey, looks like it got held up for a bit because there was a request for a partial cancelation, but the refund has been processed, it's back in the queue and based on its position it will probably go out tomorrow.

Customer loses their mind yelling that this is insane and next time she'll buy direct from the manufacturer (who is on the other side of the planet and only sells through dealers, but never mind) explains slowly and loudly that "slow is BAD" like she's talking to a toddler and hangs up on me.

Like, yeah it sucks that we're so short handed it takes a few days for cancelations to be processed, but YOU waited until the last minute to order your stuff, YOU didn't read the estimated shipping time frame on the product description before ordering, and when I specifically told you the cancelation would cause a significant delay YOU confirmed you understood that and still wanted it done. If you hadn't gotten impatient it would have gone out days ago. Heck, even the special order would be halfway here by now. We might be slow, but the extra delays on your order were entirely caused by you and your unwillingness to read or listen. We're transparent about how long things will take and have actually consistently been within the time frames we provided to you since the order was first placed.

Also screaming at me after shipping is closed for the day speeds up nothing, it literally cannot go out until tomorrow, which is when it would have gone out anyway at this point if you hadn't called and thrown a fit. There is nothing I can do to make it get to you faster.

Posted by admin Rodney

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pinteresthore · 24 hours

Note

genuinely asking because i saw the post with you saying you arent fatphobic - if you run a pro blog that caters and creates triggering media for ppl to starve themselves, isnt that inherently fatphobic? even if you arent bullying or harassing people, isnt it just a deep rooted feeling from the disorder? theres probably fat people who ask for you to post thinspos because they hate themselves and want to starve. isnt proana all inherently fatphobic even if you dont post fatspo? (im up for discussion, not trying to pointlessly argue)

hi first of all, thanks for the ask. second of all…

Everyone on this planet has internalised fat phobia. Even body positive influencers and celebrities. Societal standards, and media has conditioned our minds into believing that fitting into certain standards is better than just loving yourself. I never denied that I wasn’t just the same

I am not saying it’s ok, I’m just saying it’s a bitter truth. In an ideal world this shouldn’t exist

I only use ( an A ) tags in order to ensure no other people outside of this community sees my posts, the people in the tags are

Already having an a

Reporting blogs (and weirdos ofc)

already have some underlying problem

yes my content is triggering, that is the point. It’s supposed to encourage you to ‘stick to your plans’

again, I know this is NOT a good thing, I’m just explaining the content I’m posting read further…

There has been sooo much debate on this, but the way I see it, it offers support to people who feel alone in the world. Connecting you with people all over the world. Posting has allowed me to create a community of over 300 people in just a couple of days. These are all individuals who have gone through similar things as me.

My condition did surface from the desire to look a certain way, yes. But it is so much more than that. My fellow ⭐️🦴 might relate. It’s like no matter how hard your life is, you at least have control over what you put in your body. This keeps me going. now, that difference between th0i0n0s0p0o (T) and f0a0t0s0p0o0 (F) is large

we aren’t humiliating and bullying random people who choose to live. there is a HUGE difference between “ew, I do not want to look like her” and “omg goals”

Both are toxic, though one is better than the other

I don’t post F out of respect for people. Although I judge myself and my body, I try not to judge others.

so yes,

I am inherently fat phobic, everyone is

I have a mental illness that commands me to starve

I post triggering content (all mental illnesses are triggering if you look at it like that )

I am just a person trying to navigate my life withought breaking down every few minutes. This blog is my way to cope.

No,

I do not dehumanise and bully people for their size and simply existing on the Internet

I don’t post rude comments and inspo that Hates on fatter bodies

I hope this answers your questions

love

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agere-fics · 2 days

Text

Doctor Papa

dni: k!nk, anti-agere, agepl4y, or ddlg-esque blogs 🍄 this blog is a safe space for age regressors and age dreamers 🍄

pairing: caregiver!papa!bruce banner x regressor!little!reader

characters: uncle thor, bruce banner, reader, mentions of: steve, bucky, sam, and tony stark.

summary: you have to get MRIs done but you're nervous. thank goodness, papa knows how to cheer you up.

word count: 1,751

content warnings: MRIs, hospital gown, reader is written like they're a child's height, no mention of a particular chronic illness, please tell me if i'm missing anything

author's note: tadaa!! all done! this is the most i've written for a one shot! very proud of myself. also, this is inspired by me having to get MRIs done recently ajfhs

♡

Sometimes stuff we've done lots of times can still seem scary; which is annoying because who wants to feel anxious about the same exact thing over and over again?

You have to get these scans done by tomorrow. With every heart of your being, you wished that wasn't true but your previous scans were too old.

UGH!

Luckily, your papa had a trick up his sleeve.

He told you to stay here, in this gigantic, empty, white walled room. It was utterly boring, there were no paintings or statues or anything. Not even toys! Well, okay, you had your Mr. Rainy Day Bear but still! At least there were floor to ceiling windows- OH, and a skylight, too. Those are always nice.

While you waited for Bruce to come back, you watched what went on outside. There was Tony using his latest invention to attempt to lift Uncle Thor’s hammer. Tony still had no idea that it couldn't possibly work! How silly of him.

Bucky, Sam, and Steve stood in a far apart triangle. They were tossing around the Captain America shield like a Frisbee, guffawing, and yelling things that were joyously incomprehensible. It looked like lots of fun! Definitely more fun than MRIs. Maybe, they would let you join in later.

The double doors of the empty room swung open and papa’s humongous green form entered.

“Okayyy, love bug, I've grabbed all the cardboard pieces from recycling that weren't gross.” He grimaced thinking about the black, moldy gunk that spoiled some previously useful parts. He shrunk back down to Bruce Banner size after dumping the cardboard into a large pile. “We should have enough for our little art project.”

“Art project?” You looked at him expectantly. Your eyes were actually lit up with stars of joy this time, instead of meteor shower anxiety.

The idea was to make a cardboard MRI machine. Having an art project to focus on would comfort and reassure you about the process you would go through tomorrow. If he could make it fun, your anxiety wouldn't be so bad.

“I’ve seen the machine before, papa, I can make the bestest one yet!” You hopped on your toes, giddy with tight, flapping fists.

“I grabbed your sticker books and some paint, too-”

“OH YAY, THANK YOU PAPA, THIS IS SO EXCITING!!”

Mission accomplished. Anxiety gone, replaced with magical cure Art Project™. Bruce smirked to himself.

You laid down on a tall, square cardboard piece. Bruce traced your form with a sharpie as you giggled. Once you had the correct length, you both began cutting a rectangular piece and put that piece on a metal cart with wheels.

Then, you cut out half circle pieces and hot glued them all together until it made one large 4D sphere with a hole in the middle like a donut.

At one point, the glue burned you but Papa Bruce fixed it right up and stopped the booboo pain with a cure-all kiss.

Your cardboard MRI machine may look done to outsiders but it wasn't even close. It was missing the most important part of all: the stickers! There were heart stickers, stickers with dolphins, rainbow stickers, puppy stickers, stickers that had Mr. Hulk and Papa on them, too! There were even stickers of Stevey, Bucky, Iron Man, and Uncle Thor! Papa said for your birthday he'd make stickers with you on them, too.

You also painted squiggles, polka dots, lines, circles, triangles, kitty cats, and zig zags. All of them in your most favoritest color.

“There!” You stood proudly, hands on your hips. “Now, it's very, very pretty, papa.”

Papa gave you a minute and then asked, “Are you ready to practice?”

You blinked and sighed. Defeat warping your mood. “Yeah...”

Papa spun away, put a doctor's coat on, and then turned back, holding a clipboard. “Alright, are you the caregiver for Mr. Rainy Day Bear?”

“Yeah, papa.” You lightened up a little bit.

“Papa? No, I'm Doctor Doctor. Who's papa?”

“You're papaaa!” You pointed at him.

“Okay, okay I'm Doctor Papa.” He repeated, “Are you the caregiver of Mr. Rainy Day Bear?”

You tilted your chin up and did a faux British accent. “Why, yes, sir. He's feeling very, very bad and needs a scan.”

“Ah, yes, I see that on his chart, Caregiver.” He flipped through the scribbled pages on the clipboard. “Let's have. Mr. Bear lay down on the table with his head on the pillow.” Bruce gestured with his hand.

You laid your stuffie down on the pretend bed, placing Mr. Bear’s head gently on the pillow. You patted his hand for good measure.

Doctor Papa put ear plugs into the bear's ears and placed cushy pink headphones on him. The headphones had cat ears on them. Papa raised his voice a little, “Mr. Rainy Day Bear, what kind of music do you like to listen to?”

“Doctor Papa, Mr. Bear is nonverbal.” you said matter of factly. You raised your pointer finger to the sky. “I’ll answer for him. He likes The Wiggles, Papa- I mean Doctor Papa.”

“Alrighty then, The Wiggles album coming right up.” Bruce pulled out his phone, scrolling until he found the right music. “Wiggles rave?”

You nodded, then kissed the tippity top of Rainy Day’s head. “You'll be okay, Mr. Bear.”

Bruce began to push the cardboard bed into the donut sphere. You took a big, big deep breath in.

“BRRRR BEEEP AGHHHH RRRRR DNNNN-”

That breath was immediately released back into the atmosphere. “PAPAAA!” You clutched your chest, laughing so hard your legs felt weak.

Doctor Papa continued, “DRRRRR EEEEEE EHHHHHH MRRRRRR!”

You were rolling on the floor, tears leaving your eyes. How silly of your papa!

“BRRRRRrrrrrr….” Papa rolled the cardboard bed out of the donut. “How are you feeling Mr. Bear?”

“Papa, he can't hear you!”

Bruce laughed. “Oh, yeah, right.” He removed the headphones and then the earplugs. “How is the fantastic Mr. Bear?”

You lifted Mr. Bear’s paws and had him sign to Bruce, ‘I am okay.’

“Perfect! Let's take a look at your scans here…” Papa turned around and scribbled quickly on the paper. When he faced you again, he showed you the scan. It was a poorly constructed scribble of Mr. Rainy Day Bear with a big, biiiiiiiig, heart right in the middle. “I knew it, Lots-Of-Love-itis.”

You unburied the British accent. “Quite good, sir. Well done, Mr. Bear.” You placed a hulk sticker on his paw and hugged him tightly.

Papa kneeled down and asked, “Do you want to practice with you this time?”

You gave it a thought, looking this way and that. “Hmmm, will you make the funny noises again?”

“BEEEEP BRRR-”

“Not right now, Papa!” You shouted with a smile.

“Oh, during the practice?” He waited for you to finish rolling your eyes. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Okay…” You breathed in, out, in, and out slowly. “Let's practice, Doctor Papa.”

♡

“Big day, lille venn.” Uncle Thor said as he helped tie the back of your hospital gown. He double knotted the strings behind your neck and then the ones by your hip. “There you are. All set.”

You frowned at that, looking at Thor with big, watery eyes. “Not all set.”

“It'll be okay.” His hands (placed on your shoulders) turned you to face him. “Remember your breathing?”

“Mhm.”

“Let's do it together.” He raised his left hand as you did the same. “Climb Yggdrasil, breathe in.”

You traced up your pointer finger.

“Let's sit at the very top, hold your breath.”

You paused at the tip of your finger.

“Slide down the Yggdrasil branches, breathe out.”

You traced down your pointer finger.

Uncle Thor had you repeat that four more times, until the tears dried and the anxiety flowed further away.

“Very good, great job. Let's go see Papa.” He held your hand as he walked you towards the scary room. Worse than the boring room from yesterday.

You turned the corner and there was Papa at the computer. “Hey there! The computer’s prepped and waiting for you, little one.”

You looked at Papa, then Uncle Thor, and then Papa again. “Okay… I'm ready.”

Papa led you to the metal bed. It was rectangular and thin. A sheet was laid out on it so you wouldn't get super cold. There was a thick pillow on the end that had your favorite kitty cat pillowcase on it, which made the corners of your lips turn upwards.

Papa pressed an arrow down bottom next to the donut sphere that brought the bed down to your level. He held your hand as you hopped on and then helped position you onto the center. He guided you through a big, deep breath so that your body was as comfortable on the table as can be instead of tense.

Next came pink headphones with cutesy kitty ears on them and plain boring ear plugs so that your hearing wasn't hurt from the loud noises. Papa already set up your favorite kind of music so when the headphones were placed on you, it was already playing. Bruce furrowed his brow in question, moving his thumb up and down. You replied with a thumbs up. You were ready.

Bruce handed you a panic button to hold just in case and laid a blanket over you to keep you warm. Papa kissed the top of your head and left the room.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in and out.

BBRRRRRRR

‘It's okay. I'm okay.’

BEEEEEEPPP

‘Woohoo, I'm doing awesome!’

REEEEHHHHHH

‘This is boring, it's got to have been a bajillion minutes by now.’

After ten years (minutes), the machine stopped and Papa walked back into the room. He gave you a high five and bunches of praises that you only heard some of because of all the ear protectors. But you could tell by his facial expressions that he was so very proud of you.

He pressed the arrow down button again and the bed began moving to an easier height. You removed the headphones and earplugs yourself, you felt like such a big kid (in the best way)!

You stretched this way and that while making funny noises which made you abrupt into hearty giggles.

Bruce held your hand as you jumped down. Next thing you knew, he was hugging you tightly, picking you up, and spinning you around and around!

“I'm so very, very proud of you, bumble bee!”

You kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Papa!”

♡

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