#And still it would be way easier for them to exclude him than it is for me. Why don’t they just. Do that?

[kingconia]

VICE HOUSEWARDENS WITH MC, WHO IS BLIND, BUT, SOMEHOW, FEELS AND KNOWS EVERYTHING

warning: Ortho is excluded for an obvious reason, and I consider Ruggie to be a vice.

Trey Clover. ❤️

— Trey is absolutely surprised, when he sees you for the first time. It is not like he had never seen a blind person before, but there is something alarming in a fact, that a student without magic and sight, is left all alone in the NRC;

— He might be a little awkward around you, but he is still respects you, and will never points out at your possible insecurity. Hits Ace a few times, when he openly reminds you about being blind;

— ...When he finds out that you are not helpless, and in fact might be more attentive than all of them, he is speechless.

•

Trey glances over his shoulder, instantly finding you in the havoc that first-years had made in his kitchen. He has no trust in this kids, and it is quite dangerous place for you. So, he tries to look up for you wordlessly.

”Ace,” he calls for a redhead boy, sighing, when he almost drops a bowl with flour on the ground, ”pass me a few apples, would you? They should be somewhere here.”

Ace smiles at him crookedly as he starts walk around, squinting, while trying to find mentioned apples.

”Eh... Where are they?”

Trey turns, planning to guide him himself, when you are suddenly raising your cane, the tip of it moving in the direction of a basket with red apples.

”Ace, I think, they should be here,” you remark softly.

Neither Ace nor Deuce find anything extraordinary in your act, which makes Trey realise that it must be not the first time you do so. But he is astonished!

He examines you once again, and as he stares right in your colourless eyes that almost never blink, Trey is sure: you don't see anything. That it is not a lie.

...Perhaps, you are not without a magic as others think you are?

Ruggie Bucchi. 💛

— Alright, I am sorry, but Ruggie doesn't give a fuck if you are blind. It is not about bullying—he wouldn't do that—but he will not try to pamper with you either;

— And as soon as he realises that you, in fact, are highly aware of everything around you, Ruggie is even more comfortable around you;

— But! Your instincts are reminding him of beastmen—he had seen a few of them, who were just as blind as you, and you act suspiciously a lot like them—and so, he starts having a very strange theories about you.

•

Ruggie holds his breath, and as his back straightens, he is ready for attack.

In his homeland, he is considered to be one of the most dangerous beasts, a natural predator. He knows how to stalk his prey, how to stay out of its sight, and how to bring food back home. So, of course, watching after you, shouldn't be a—

”I know you are hiding on the tree, Ruggie.”

Urgh. Just how you always know where he is?

Here you are, sitting on the bench under this tree. And Ruggie, who stands atop of it, too high to be heard, shouldn't be noticeable even for a usual humans. Even he made a sound—but he didn't!—how could you say that it is him? Unless, you are feeling his scent, just like a beastman would...

Ruggie keeps his silent. Maybe, it would be easier to trick you this way, and then...

”Ouch!”

Almost when he touched your shoulder, you easily hit him with your cane.

”Ruggie,” you sigh. ”I thought, you are better than his.”

Rubbing his hand, he can only murmur a quiet:

”Sorry.”

...His belief that you might be half-beastman are getting more and more rational with each passing day.

Jade Leech. 🩵

— Jade is somewhere between acting all gentlemen around you, and searching for a way to use your disability in his advantage. Nothing personal, though;

— When he realises that his calculations are completely wrong, and you are not so easy to crack, Jade is impressed. What a good challenge you are;

— Jade might get an idea that, perhaps, you are lying to everyone... And if so, he is about to catch you on this lie.

•

”Remind me, please... Had you been sightless from the very young age?” Jade asks casually, pouring tea in your cap; for a third time in this morning.

You nod with a gratitude, and your hand easily moves to your right, where the pot with sugar is located. Jade told you where it is, when you first started having a breakfast together.

”I had been born this way, yes.”

As you put one cube in your tea, Jade hastily moves the pot to an opposite side of the table. Waiting. His eyes pierces in yours, trying to notice some strange signs. Anything.

”How complicated it must be.”

There is always a possibility that you just have those colourless eyes, which helps you to lie to other. Perhaps, you are as mischievous as he is, after all.

”Well. I think, it would be harder if I lost my sight earlier in life,” you smile.

Your hand flawlessly moves to the new location of the sugar. Jade hums in the disappointment.

...Once you will crack.

Jamil Viper. 🧡

— When he hears about you for the first time, he can't help but huff about how irresponsible headmaster is, if he allows you to walk around these dangers so easily;

— Much later, he becomes your close friend, and with that, he finds out about your talent. Jamil had never seen such things before, he thinks you are a miracle;

— But he will accept it without any side thoughts. He trusts you, and overall, Jamil is simply glad that you are not as enamoured in this world as he first thought you are.

•

Jamil knows you are coming from a ringing knock of your cane in the corridor. And, so, he rushes to the doors, opening it widely, still with apron around his waist.

”Good afternoon, Y/n.”

”Hello, Jamil,” you hum, slowly stepping in.

It is a secret for Jamil why some of his classmates are thinking that you are lying about your blindness—or use a secret magic for moving around—when a little evidences of it are always here.

He can say it from the way you never make sharp on inaccurate movements—he had only seen you running with Grim on your hands—and move slowly, though, gracefully. Or how you relay a lot on you cane.

”I had prepared a few pastries for you,” he exclaims quietly. ”From the Scalding Sands.”

You might be independent, but Jamil still thinks you struggling sometimes.

”I can smell that,” you smile. ”Thank you.”

But it is not a problem. He will make sure to help you from time to time.

Rook Hunt. 💜

— Oh! Oh! Rook can't hide his curiousity when he hears stories about you;

— As someone, who relays a lot on his senses and instincts, Rook fully understands what helps you through your blindness;

— So, if anything, he thinks you are a lot alike! Rook constantly helps you to develop and sharpen your senses by taking you on walks around the forest, or asking about what you feel in certain rooms.

•

”Incroyable!” Rook sighs out delightfully, eyes sparkling as he stares at you. ”You are such a talented person, ma flèche!”

Another little laugh escapes your lips, and Rook can't help but feel proud of how happy you are about these dates of yours.

He wants you to feel equal with others, but even more, he desires for you to know how much better you are, than the most.

”Ah, you are flattering me, Rook,” with a free from a cane hand, you rush to wave him off. Then, you frown suddenly, tilting your head on the right. ”Ah... I think there is another bird, Rook. Behind you, on the left.”

As soon as you warn him about it, Rook swiftly turns on the told direction. A mere second and arrow flies past you, hitting a target easily.

”Parfait!” He praises you again. ”You notice things even quicker than I do!”

As your cheeks blush furiously, Rook only smirks.

If you only know how special you are!

Lilia Vanrouge. 💚

— Lilia is a war veteran, so, he is not surprised by your abilities. He had seen a lot of his old comrades losing their sight in the battle, and slowly learning to live with consequences of that;

— But, he finds it impressing either way. Especially, considering that you are just a mortal. It is fascinating how strong and brave your kind can be;

— And, Lilia loves how you are always aware of his presence, never being scared of his sudden appearances, like others usually do. It is rewarding!

•

”Ah, aren't we going to be late?” Cater sighs, shifting from one leg to another, while scrolling through the Magicam. ”That's ridiculous.”

You hum, pressing your shoulder to the wall, yawning.

”Why are we even waiting?”

”What do you mean why?” Cater frowns. ”We can't go without Lilia... And I don't know where he is, but dude is really late.”

It is your turn to frown now.

”Cater, Lilia had been here for another five minutes,” you say. ”Just look up.”

Cater is suspicious at first, but then, as he does what you told him to do, a terrified help escapes his chest. Lilia is, indeed, here. Hanging from the ceiling, smiling cryptidly.

”Hello, love,” he flashes a smile at you. ”And hello there, Cater.”

”Hi, dear,” you wave at him. ”Well... Can we, please, go now?”

Cater sighs. His face is still pale, when he hisses out:

”You both of you are awful. Period.”

Lilia only chuckles at that. Well, aren't you just a perfect match?

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #trey clover x reader #trey clover #ruggie bucci x reader #ruggie bucchi #jade leech x reader #jade leech #jamil viper x reader #jamil viper #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge

[jennaimmortal]

Musings on OFMD Season 2

I’m feeling a bit sad today for the OFMD writers. After rewatching S1 & 2 a couple times, it’s become blatantly clear to me that Izzy’s arc this season was a very obvious love letter to both Izzy fans & the great Con O’Neil. Izzy was very clearly written to be an obstacle to Ed’s healing & personal growth, a snare that Ed needed to be freed from, albeit with plenty of nuance hiding under the surface. It would have been much easier for them to kill Izzy off while he was still the toxic, abusive, sadomasochistic terror of S1E10.

Instead of taking the easy route, though, the writers flipped the trope on its head! They utilized every bit of the potential buried beneath Izzy’s super fucked up shell. This season Izzy got

• a fully fleshed out redemption complete with terrible consequences of his 1x10 actions

• a realization of the possibility of another way of thinking & existing that he’d spent all of S1 running from & trying to destroy,

• genuine love & support from his crew mates which he was actually able to accept,

• exploration of the long abandoned softer side of his nature,

• an apology from Ed w/o first offering one of his own,

• a powerful, devastatingly poignant speech that mentally demolished a new nemesis, and finally

• a beautiful, meaningful death in the arms of the man he’d dedicated so much of his life to, known that he was truly loved by him & completely accepting of the fact that Ed’s love was not in the form he’d always hoped for.

It was so much more than we could have hoped for, and was very obviously done in service to the MANY fans that had fallen in love with Izzy even after S1, as well as to give Con a storyline worthy of his immense talent. Considering the face that Izzy was never going to end up becoming the show’s third protagonist, it was more than we could have hoped for!

OFMD has two protagonists, Stede & Ed. All the secondary character narratives that haven’t directly involved Ed and/or Stede have been icing on the cake, but the cake has always been the Gentlebeard love story. I feel like some people forget this, expecting them to treat the secondary characters as if it were an ensemble show instead of a show with leads.

Izzy’s arc really was an amazing gift! The writers gave us this incredible journey for Izzy this season, and what did a disgraceful number of people do? They attacked David directly, insulted the entire show, the writers, & other characters, even wishing actual harm & misery to other characters or even to David himself!

While I know that comparatively speaking, the percentage of show fans who reacted this way was relatively small, it was still an astounding amount of hatred & vitriol thrown at the people who had obviously worked very hard to give Izzy fans something beautiful to hold on to after his inevitable death. Much of the discourse honestly shocked me, considering the fact that OFMD isn’t even an adaptation of another work.

When fans get angry at shows written as adaptations of books, it’s a bit more understandable for them to have extreme reactions. They’ve had certain ideas and headcanons about characters they’ve felt very strongly about for a long time. It can be really jarring & painful when expectations like that aren’t met, the characters or plots are taken in totally different directions, or even excluded entirely.

OFMD, however, is an original creation. This is David Jenkins’s story. These are David Jenkins’s characters. He knows his story, his plotlines, his characters far better than anyone else does because they came from HIS brain! So while we as fans can have our own interpretations & head canons, they are always going to be at risk of being proven totally wrong by the ACTUAL canon.

One of the worst aspects of fandoms, in my opinion, is the way people become so proprietary over the story & characters, insisting that their own interpretations & theories are the only correct ones, which is exactly what happened with Izzy. Fans’ individual & collective interpretations, theories, hopes, & other head canons became concrete & true in their minds. So much so that when the actual story didn’t meet those expectations, so many of them lashed out in some truly unpleasant, sometimes hateful ways.

My only hope is that the rest of the fandom’s love, appreciation, constructive criticism, heartbreak, pain, joy, & excitement has been enough to drown out the deluge of vitriolic comments directed at David & the other writers.

If you stuck with me through this unintentionally long diatribe, thank you! Maybe take a moment to give the writers some comments or replies on social media, showing your love! I know I will!

#our flag means death #ofmd #ed teach #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #ofmd izzy #izzy hands

[blueteller]

TCF Theory: What If God of Death Had a Reason for Kidnapping Minors?

(Hey, @murasaki-cha, I might have a theory that could sorta maybe redeem your pathetic little meow meow! 😂)

[Also: SPOILER WARNING for... basically everything in TCF?]

So, here's the thing:

It's no secret I always had… issues with the God of Death for kidnapping the Chois.

Let me clarify a bit.

What he did to Kim Rok Soo, aka. Cale, was not okay either – however! I can see it justified somewhat by circumstances: he was cursed, his life was generally depressing and terrible, and there was a world in need of saving. Honestly, the deal with the Original Cale Henituse to switch the two of them was best for all parties involved. (I'm still angry he did not ask Cale himself for permission, though! All the God of Death needed to do was tell him: "Look, this is the world where your BFF Lee Soo Hyuk reincarnated into. And the world is going to be destroyed in about 20 years if nothing is done about it. Would you mind cleaning that up for me?" You bet your butt Cale would have agreed fair and square, even if he were EXTREMELY miffed about the deal. But it's so much easier to simply hide your involvement in the transmigration, so that Cale doesn't have a personal vendetta against you once he gets OP, right…? Not that it succeeded, lol. Cale still ended up cursing the God of Death a lot)

However – all of what I just said? NONE of it applied for the Choi family member.

First, we have Choi Jung Gun, aka. Nelan Barrow. Let me remind you, the kid was FIFTEEN. Freaking 15!!!! The God of Death kidnapped a literal CHILD with no combat experience, and dropped him in the middle of an active war zone! Sure, technically Super Rock was there and presumably took care of him – but still, that was an objectively a terrible thing to do, God of Death! Bad boy!! 🧹🧹🧹

Then we have Choi Han, and ohhh boy, he had even worse somehow! Even though he was 2 years older than Choi Jung Gun when he got transported, he still ended up in the freaking FOREST OF DARKNESS. Weaponless, isolated, under constant threat of death. It's a miracle Choi Han did not die or completely lose his mind – and in a sense he did – but he was still able to retain a piece of himself, NO THANKS TO YOU GOD OF DEATH. My goodness! What a way to treat your "chosen hero ", mister!

...as you can probably tell, I was pissed enough at the God of Death for kidnapping poor Choi Jung Gun, but I am NEVER forgiving him for what Choi Han went thought. Should have given him something! A letter, a sword, or at the very least – A FREAKING MAP!!!

Aaaand finally we have Choi Jung Soo. Which was a bizarre case in comparison to the previous two. Even the God of Death remarked how unusual it was.

First of all, consent was asked – WHAT A TWIST! 🤣

Secondly, Choi Jung Soo was already an adult, and experienced fighter. He'd have a much better time in Nameless 1 world than any of his predecessors (excluding the fact that he'd have a TERRIBLE time trying to fight the White Star; who may I remind you possessed Kim Rok Soo's face... Also, did he even get to read "The Birth of a Hero"...?). He was also on the verge of death. AND he allowed to say no!! It was much more fair than what happened to the other two.

...But why though? Why the special treatment, God of Death? Why not kidnap Choi Jung Soo as a kid as well? The timing was kind of strange.

So here my theory comes in.

What if, it wasn't the God of Death who determined the timing of the transportation? What if there was an outside factor involved? Just because there seemingly wasn't a strict pattern to WHEN the Chois got transported, that doesn't mean there couldn't be one.

An outside factor like, let's say.... the Hunters? 🤔

From his behaviour in the Sloth Test, we know that Choi Jung Gun absolutely hates the Hunters. And it seemed very personal too. Even if we take it for granted that the Hunters were responsible for the existence of the Original White Star and the war and all that... It was still VERY personal. Like, "I will tear you to bloody pieces with my bare hands and chew on them with my teeth" level of personal. So, what gives?

Then it hit me.

The Five Colored Bloods Hunters are Wanderers who can freely travel across dimensions. They targeted young Kim Rok Soo, because he had a "mark" of the God of Death on. They assumed it could be a sign of a Single Lifer, and it did not matter to them if it necessary to kill him just to "check". The only reason why Kim Rok Soo survived was because Choi Jung Gun was there (even though I have issues about his execution – using a minor as BAIT?! Not cool man! Almost as bad as the God of Death!). Without him, young Kim Rok Soo absolutely would have been killed. And the way Choi Jung Gun was acting in the Sloth Test made it seem like it wasn't the first time something like this happened either.

Meaning: the Hunters were already on Earth 1. They have been there.

So, what if... the Hunters had already targeted the Chois in the past? Including Choi Jung Gun himself?

Think about it. If the Hunters had any clue that this particular lineage could produce Single Lifers... they'd certainly keep an eye on the Choi family, right? There would be no need to directly interfere. Just, watching them from the sidelines and let them produce next generations. Spying on their kids – like the total creeps they are.

And perhaps, there was a particular sign of a potential Single Lifer to watch out for, that could manifest around adolescence? What if Choi Jung Gun showed such a sign at the age of 15?

Instead of simply using him as a weapon to save another world... was the God of Death actually trying to save Choi Jung Gun? By transporting him into another dimension??

It would... kinda make sense, right? By transporting Choi Jung Gun, his "Single Lifer power" activated. His lifespan became much longer, he developed an Ancient Power too. He was initially weak, but he grew stronger overtime. Strong enough to stand up to the Hunters and protect himself; and also taking him away from their immediate reach.

...What if the same happened with Choi Han? What if Choi Han became a target at the age of 17? And the only way to save him was to transport him as well? I mean it worked with Choi Jung Gun, why not try it a second time? If the first one became a powerful ally who could fight the Hunters, the God of Death would certainly like another one on his payroll, right?

And then there's Choi Jung Soo, of course. Maybe he escaped the scrutiny of the Hunters? Or maybe because he developed powers which made him a harder target? Why would the Hunters bother with difficult opponents when they can always play dirty and go after literal children, instead? There is also the issue of the Monster Apocalypse, as Cale suspects the Hunters were behind it as well. Maybe the Hunters had a different plan for Earth 1, and so they had to stop using it as hunting grounds for Single Lifers?

If I'm right about this, then the God of Death's actions became a liiiiitle bit more understandable.

I will forever criticize the man for not asking at least three of his victims (and don't try to give me some bull about him being "unable to", God of Death used various means to communicate through the story; Choi Jung Gun even freaking wrote "The Birth of a Hero" books for the sole purpose of giving necessary exposition to a transmigrator – more than that, if he had enough space to simp for Whales and provide Harol's backstory for no reason! He could have included ANY type of message in there, to ANYONE!), but if Choi Jung Gun were to literally die if he did not get kidnapped and transported into a war-torn dimension in need of saving... Well? Saving someone's life via transmigration might be unconventional, but I've seen it happen a lot in many isekai. I can roll with this.

...But seriously tho, I hope Choi Jung Gun makes that broom beating a regular thing. The God of Death certainly can use it. You know – for emotional intelligence improvement! 😏

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of the count's family #god of death #tcf god of death #theory #tcf theory #tcf meta

[frozen-waters]

people do not understand how hard it was on the women in the camp and why they act the way they do and I’m tired of them getting hated on

Sadie Adler is allowed to be upset. she lost her husband, her home, everything, and has to adapt to the life of an outlaw all while still grieving and healing. she also has to share the same living space with the man who burned her house down to the ground and threatened to kill her. and even aside from Micah, she still isn’t treated all that fairly, being expected to do the more feminine chores around camp instead of being able to go out and hunt and rob. and she’s taken into the gang while it’s deteriorating so things just continue to go downhill and she loses one of the few friends she had made along the way at the very end.

Abigail Marston is allowed to be upset. she was a working girl at a very young age and was taken into a gang where her only real purpose at the time was to satisfy some of their sexual needs. and then she gets pregnant with Jack and her entire situation becomes more permanent. but then the father of her son ran away for a year and she was still surrounded by people who thought highly of him, she still had to do some sort of work either inside or out of camp, and I really think Susan was the only woman in camp who would know anything about pregnancy even if she had never been pregnant so the birth of Jack (and probably most of the pregnancy) was probably overlooked by most of the men excluding the ones like Hosea, Arthur, and Dutch. and then for John to return and claim that Jack isn’t his can only lead for her to have more emotional turmoil. and she couldn’t just leave the gang, she had nowhere to run to, a son to take care of, no job, and also a very limited amount of freedom. the gang moved a lot, the gang got into trouble a lot, there was always the fear that something would go horribly wrong and they’d loose a handful of people or that the law would finally show up. or that something would somehow happen to her son. we can see in the game how protective she is over him and how she’s still trying to get John to believe he’s his son. there’s also one interaction in the game where we hear Susan saying she should get back into the field of prostitution just to get some more money. one of the characters we see her closest to is Hosea, he’s a friend to her and had been the one to step up as a role-model for Jack and has spent more time with him in a day than John has in a month, so in chapter three when Hosea dies, it doesn’t get any easier for Abigail. AND HER SON LITERALLY GETS FUCKING KIDNAPPED???? she didn’t know if she’d ever even see her son again, and she does not owe John any kind of ‘thank you’ for rescuing their son. and we see the game where the gang is falling apart, characters die, people are tense and anxious, money is seemingly short no matter how much you donate, and her and her son are in what seems to be a situation they can’t escape from. I do not know every single thing she’s been through and have probably skipped over some details, but Abigail has not had the best experience in the gang.

Molly O’Shea is allowed to be upset. I already talked about her some here, but some people (@river-of-wine , @sweetybees , @dazednstoned) added things in the tags. Molly is promised a life of excitement and adventure from before the beginning of the game by Dutch, he isolates her early on so he’s really the only person she has a connection with in the gang, making her dependent on him. people in the gang and in REAL LIFE TOO are more often than not on Dutch’s side when it comes to Molly. as soon as we start chapter three Dutch becomes bored of her, already seeking out some other woman inside or out of the gang to rope into his life and his gang. so as literally any normal woman would feel, she is upset. she has no support group in the gang because of her isolation early on and the fact that most of the other women in the gang don’t care for her because she never had to do the work that they had to because Dutch made sure she would t have to. she has pent up emotions that lead to “outbursts” which only annoys the other gang members and causes her to isolate herself even more. Molly was a victim. she was not a bitch, she was not asking for too much, she was not undermining the situation, she just wanted Dutch to do the bare minimum for her.

being a woman in a gang in a world run by men was not easy. there are hundreds of other women in fiction and real life that have lived through these experiences, and the women in the VdL gang have it better than most cases, but they still don’t have it good. and this isn’t even to mention about how the world outside of the gang treated women (especially prostitutes and immigrants) at the time. a majority of the women in the VdL gang didn’t come to a good end, Abigail suffered throughout the gang, Molly and Annabelle got shot because of Dutch, Susan was Dutch’s ex and definitely suffered from his manipulation, I don’t really know about Bessie because she died of an illness and Hosea most likely treated her amazingly but she probably also went through some ordeals. the only women of the gang who really got out of the gang safe were Tilly and Mary-Beth.

Mary Linton is another thing, she does not deserve hate for leaving Arthur to live a better life, she did the smart thing by not marrying and running away with him because who knows what could’ve happened to her. I do not appreciate how she used Arthur’s emotions against him in the game and think that that is why she is a bit of a bad person, but she lived a better life than she ever would have if she was an official member of the gang. she got out before she was ever even in.

I can’t stop you from not liking characters, I’m not the biggest fan of Sadie but I can understand the hardships that all of these women went through.

#rdr2 #abigail roberts #abigail marston #molly o’shea #sadie adler #woah #this is really long #anyways feeling analytical or something idk

[cas-poisoning]

The way people write John in fic bothers me so much sometimes. Not to judge other people’s writing specifically, just the general fanon characterization of John Winchester. Yes he’s bad a father. Horrible. So much to unpack there. Yet I find it so disappointing when I go to read a fic and he’s like. Cartoonishly villainous. Excluding the fans that actually like John (which is even more crazy), it feels like everyone treats him as like this big bad one dimensional monster which imo is a disservice to the complex relationship Sam and Dean have with them. It’s also a symptom of a broader pattern in media, or even real world events. It’s so much easier to flatly paint anyone bad as inhuman, one dimensional, and just plain evil. Monstrous. But the reality is, every horrible person is still a person. Humans are capable of the evil we do, not monsters.

So when it comes to John, like yes, he is deeply deeply flawed. He really hurt his kids. But often when people write him, it feels like he makes all of his terrible decisions for the sake of being mean and terrible and abusive, which undermines the dynamic because the reality is people can be abusive or neglectful or toxic without being a complete monster 100% of time. It would almost be easier for Sam and Dean if John had actually been like that. But he was their father, who did what he thought was best, and loved them even if he didn’t show it. They have fond memories with him. He’s their father. Which is what makes it so hard for them to actually unpack the trauma they have, because it is so so difficult to realize a person you love is actually actively hurting you. Harder than realizing a villain in your life is just being a villain.

#idk just felt like rambling tonight lol. whenever I read fic with John it’s always like him being as awful as possible #even when it doesn’t align with any character motivations #spn #supernatural #this is a reflection of how we treat morality in media too imo #like there has to be a good guy and a bad guy that is just bad. #and then people apply it to real life. like oh obviously that terrible person is just a monster #but no!!! the people that are kind to you. the people that love you. the people you love. are capable of doing bad things. #and we blind ourselves to realizing when people are harmful by dehumanizing these people because then it be aimed harder to accept #when someone that seems good is actually not

[onceandfuturelesbian]

another fic prompt cause i’m unhinged

in a closed council meeting w no servants (merlin as court sorcerer and next to arthur), arthur starts talking about how he thinks they shouldn’t called servants “servants” because he thinks it’s offensive/derogatory etc. and proposes they call them assistants because that’s what they do; assist.

“with all due respect, my lord,” merlin’s hard stare focused on the king, “that’s bullshit.”

“excuse me?” arthur, shocked by merlin’s comment, but more so by his language. he’d never heard merlin curse in their ten years of knowing each other.

“maybe you’ve forgotten, but i was a servant. your servant.”

“… yes, i’m aware.”

“servants do everything for their masters and more. we are below every other person living in this castle, we have to do whatever anyone tells us to do. we don’t assist. assistance implies we help with a task you are already working on. servitude means we do what we are told, no questions asked, no objections-“

“present company excluded,” merlin hears arthur mutter under his breath and fixes his glare back to his king.

“with only help offered by the occasional kind servant who has no urgent chores. which is very, very rare. we do the work for everyone in the castle, almost never sleep more than a few hours, before waking earlier than everyone else and do it all over again. we sleep even less if we have two jobs and also take care of secret, magical threats to the kingdom and its king.

“so no. we do not assist. we are not assistants. we serve. as servants.”

merlin catches his breath as he glanced around the table, everyone’s expressions ranging from annoyed to shocked to guilty and contemplative.

arthur absorbs every single detail that merlin had revealed. he felt impossibly guilty that not only did merlin do so much for him with no recognition and no rest, but that merlin had spoken as if he was still a servant. did he still feel that way? did people still treat him that way?

“so,” arthur begins quietly, resolving to speak to merlin about that later, “what would you suggest we do instead?”

merlin considers his question for a moment, finally calm after reliving his struggles of the last decade.

“make their lives easier,” merlin catches the confused faces of the council members. “hire more servants so you can give everyone days off without shortages and the chores won’t be spread so thin, increase wages slightly, the crown can afford it without tax increase,” at this, merlin makes sure he looks arthur and all the stuck-up noblemen in the eye.

“but most importantly,” merlin ensures he has everyone’s attention so his voice is truly heard. “be kind and protect them. servants do everything the nobles cannot, this castle would not stand without them. servants cannot protect themselves from visiting noblemen and women whose views are different from camelots. our servants happiness and safety should always be a priority.”

finally, merlin meets arthur’s gaze once again. he expects shock or maybe even anger, but all he sees is pride and adoration.

“it seems we all have a lot to think about,” arthur speaks like a king and merlin is enchanted (ironic). “council is dismissed.”

later, arthur asks merlin about his time as a servant, why he spoke as if he still was one, how people treated him now, etc

and if a few months later, the servants in the castle were happier than ever, well, everyone else was happier because of it.

—

aka merlin gets to be a bamf and school nobles on class issues while arthur is in awe

#i’m unhinged #i’m sorry #implied merthur #i think #works either way #but i love merthur #bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #arthur pendragon #bbcm #merthur fanfic #fanfic #merthur fanfic prompt #merlin fanfic prompt #onceandfuturelesbian prompts

[drowningyoursorrow]

(THEY LONG TO BE) CLOSE TO YOU

kyle spencer x gn! Reader

You were new to being in the coven and most often kept your distance from the rest, excluding Violet. So when she brings back a zombie-like boy back from wherever he came from, you were appalled. Everyone eventually had to watch over him and his wellbeing like some baby. You stayed away from him, until you couldn't anymore.

!!!: none? W/C: 1.3k

THE WITCHES had something to attend to, and you didn't want to partake, earlier you had to go over the limit with your powers. Still exhausted and worn out, Cordelia decided that it would be best if you rest. You were a bit ashamed of how weak you still were but knew that Cordelia was always right. You were fine with the suggestion, noting that you could practice a bit more in the meantime and look after the place. Zoe suggested that since you weren't going with them, you could look after Kyle.

You didn't steer clear of him out of dislike, you actually felt sorry for him, and he often made you feel sad. But whenever Zoe were to look after him, he would break down and throw a "tantrum" in the most sudden moments. He seemed to be fond of Zoe, and he would still freak out like that, it scared you a bit. Although he was zombie like and wasn't the best talker, he still had indescribable strength to him. In which you feared him because of it, it was ridiculous, but him being like Frankenstein didn't help your case.

But you knew Zoe cared deeply about his own wellbeing, and she was particularly kind to you. So you decided to suck it up and try your best, now wishing you did help look after him. Because when you walked back into the school, he stood before you, and you didn't know what to do. He had a forlorn expression of Zoe leaving, and it did make your heart ache, so you greeted him with a smile. It seemed he wasn't used to you two interacting either, because he returned with a confused look.

He studied your expression, and you did the best you could to make it seem more genuine coming from you. It sufficed, since he held a bigger smile than you, almost as if he was happy you finally spoke to him. "Alright Kyle, let's uh- what do you want to do?" You paused for a moment, realizing that he can't really answer your question, but he was trying. You tensed, not meaning to already frustrate him, and just grabbed his arm and pulled him with you near the doorway.

"Let's go for a walk, yeah?" You turned expectantly to him, and he nodded sheepishly at the question, extending out his arms. You stared at him confused on what the hell he was doing before realizing, he wanted help with his coat. So you delicately put it on him, afraid that he might react a certain way if you were too fast and urgent. You put his mittens on him too, deciding it was too cold out, he stared down at you as you slid them on.

A smile was adorned on his features as he smiled at you, you were already wearing your coat from previously walking out with the rest. You grabbed your own gloved from your pockets, ready to put them back on, before Kyle stopped you. He stared at you as he wore a big grin and took your gloves, he must'e wanted to put them on you like you did with him. It was a sweet gesture, but it would be harder for Kyle since he already had mittens on, and he was just fiddling with them. Trying to make them fit onto your hands, he was trying his best, but it wasn't really working.

So, you used your fingers slightly redirecting them easier into the opening of the gloves, hum erupting from Kyle. They were crumpled on, but Kyle looked prideful as he looked up at you, awaiting your reaction. "Wow, Kyle, you did it even better than I ever could. You did a good job, thank you for helping me." There was sincerity in your tone as you smiled back at him, "W-Welllcomeee." His reply caught you off guard, you're not usually the one to hear him talk, and you smiled even harder as you led him outside.

You knew Cordelia said it would be better if you were to rest, but how he eager he looked to go on a walk made you want to. Your body and mind were sore, but you figured you could hold off long enough until you get back. As you and Kyle strolled aimlessly, you were thankful that he wasn't able to pick up on much of your staggering. Too absorbed with the scenery and views in front of him and all around him. It made you smile and so you just gazed at him as you walked side to side, you created some distance not wanting to bump into him.

You steered him into the direction of a nearby park, neither of you really speaking. Just enjoying the presence of one another. You finally directed your attention away from Kyle and stared forward, the cool breeze settling around you. "It's so beautiful out here, I should go on walks more." You felt Kyle stifle beside you and give you a pout, unsure of what he wanted, "what, no? I shouldn't go on walks?"

He just shook his head, wanting to obviously say something, but couldn't really muster up the words to do so. Instead, he just took your hand beside him and walked closer alongside you, you were confused now. You two were close now, walking together, "You want us, to go on walks more? Together?" "Yeeess, too....to-togethhherr." You both looked at each other, you nodded at his words as you both giggled alongside each other.

You remembered the proximity of you two, since he got his point across, you separated yourself from him once more. Not wanting to make anything awkward for the both of you, but Kyle snapped his head at you. He was pouting again and tried reaching for your hand again, "are you still cold? Here, you can wear my gloves underneath your mittens." You were beginning to take off your gloves before he stopped you and shook his head, slowly encasing your hands with his. He peered up at you, wanting to know if you understood what he wanted, and you did, you just gave him a small smile.

Confused and unsure of the moment that you two were sharing, you assumed that this would comfort him. So you squeezed his hand to reassure him, and he sheepishly smiled at you before continuing on walking. Although you never really spoke to Kyle, you understood why Zoe cared so deeply for him. Although he was a grown man, he had that sense of wonder in him that disappears in people when they get older. You could see the gleam in his eyes as he looked at you once more, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

He was so beautiful and throughout your guy's stroll, you acknowledged the amount of times Kyle refrained from lashing out. Instead, he looked deeply into your eyes and relaxed, he was trying not to freak you out, as if he knew why you avoided him. You felt your stomach do something and instead of hesitance and fear as you walked with Kyle. It turned into comfort and relaxation, you let him walk side by side with you and let him be right at your hip. Kyle was smiling incredibly hard as he looked back at you, seeming grateful that you finally let him in.

Neither of you needed to speak and just held each other's hands tighter, not knowing why you both found relief in another. Suddenly you felt hot, very hot, and your skin itched uncomfortably. You felt your legs begin to give out as your breath quickened, your body was beginning to feel incredibly painful. And your steps began to falter, Kyle only turned to you, hearing yelling, before you fell and everything turned black. You should've listened to Cordelia, she was always right.

..............................................................................................................................

- Title is a song that pre-death Kyle would listen to unironically when he's in love - Part two, maybe if I'm feeling romantic - I love Kyle, he's so adorable - Mildly proofread

Hope you enjoyed and if you have any requests or questions please dm!

#evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters fluff #gender neutral #ahs #ahs x reader #coven #gender neutral reader #kyle spencer #kyle spencer x reader #ahs coven #james patrick march #kit walker #tate langdon #zoe benson #cordelia goode #jimmy darling #ahs fluff #slow burn? #coven x reader #x gn reader #x reader

[melanieph321]

Dusan Vlahovic x Reader - Boss Me Around Part 1/6

I'm so excited for this one!🤭

Reader is a former yacht girl now newly moved to Turin, Italy for her job as a real-estate accountant. There she meets Dusan Vlahovic, a former client of hers, a client she never thought to see again. However, with Dusan being Readers new boss their past becomes a liability. Nevertheless the spark between them still lives. This story is a romcom with both His and Her POV!

Enjoy!

Miami did get a little crazy in the summer, thankfully it was your last year being a yacht girl. Yupp, you were keeping your promise. Once you were out of college you were putting your flip flops on a shelf and stuffing your bikini in the back of your pantie drawer. It was time to grow up and stop treating life like a circus. It was time to get a real job.

"But you'll still visit me when you move to Italy, won't you?" Izzy said, as the two of you shared a scooter on your way to the marina.

"Are you kidding? With my new salary I'm flying you out to visit me. We'll have so much fun together in Turin."

Although it was considered a job, you had formed many great friendships through yachting. Izzy was your best friend in the game, the one you never road without. If it hadn't been for Izzy teaching you the ways of the yachting game, you might as well have ended up in some really bad situations that a lot a girls do whilst seeking the fast way to earn some cash. It was important not to get too in awe of the experience. Izzy had tought you that. Izzy had also taught you that the biggest mistake girls in yachting did was fall in love with a client, a mistake you were thankful you had avoided throughout your career. Although college boys never realky gained your interest either.

"So who's this guy anyway?" You asked. "A nepo baby looking to party?"

"More like a self made billionaire. Raul says he owns like half of Serbia when it comes to real-estate."

"Impressive." You nodded. Your last job as as a yacht girl would be a breezer. It was easier to deal with rich entrepreneurs than spoiled nepo babies who believed to rule the world.

Or so you thought.

********************************************

"I think they're here." Alex said, looking over the boat deck, keeping an eye out for the girls. Once he spotted them Dusan rose from his taning bed, on his way to alert the crew to prepare the boat for departure.

"There's only two of them." Alex said, looking displeased as he returned from the deck, approaching his friend.

"Yes, one for you and one for me." Dusan said, pointing between the two of them.

"Man, you really have gone soft." Alex sighed. He was already suprised to be invited for a fun day out on his friend's new yacht, only to find the vessel empty of people if you excluded the crew members. "What happened to the old Dusan?" He said. "The one that likes to party. The one that taught me that the more the merrier, huh?"

Dusan chuckled. "I guess he's retired."

"At twenty four? How sad."

"Look, we can still have a good time. The girls said that they were up for anything."

"Yeah, but if I know you you're probably gonna ask them to watch you take a nap."

Dusan shook his head, a smile in his lips.

"When did you get so boring man, is that what a billion dollar empire does to you?"

Dusan opened his mouth to get back at his friend but that's when they heard voices below.

"Hello, anybody home?"

"Up hear!" Dusan shouted, a minute passing before they heard footsteps climbing the stairs. Two girls emerged, dressed in nothing but strips of fabric,  bikini's barley covering enough.

"Hi, I heard you guys were looking to party." The blond one said. Her hair was cut short with several tattoos covering her arms.

"Yeah, that's us." Alex grinned.

"Well, the party has arrived." She cheered.

Dusan had nothing against girls with short and bleached hair, but tattoos never did it for him.

"Great. How would you girls like your martinis?"

"Dry." The blond girl was quick to make clear. "And no olives."

"Got it, dry and no olives. How about your friend?"

All eyes turned to the second girl who's presence hadn't been as notisble as her friend. But now that he had his eyes in her, Dusan found it almost impossible to diverge his attention from her.

"Y/N?"

"Huh?" The girl seemed distracted,  her gaze having stuck to a point below Dusan's chin. He wasn't wearing a shirt,  only swimming trunks. Perhaps she found it rude, him introducing himself half naked. Not that she was any better.

"What drink do you want?" Her friend asked, in a bit if a rush to get the party started. The crew was heard above their heads,  the yacht would set sail at any minute now.

"S...ame as you." The girl stuttered. Her voice was unique. It was quite deep but in a very feminine way.

"No olives?" Her friend confirmed.

"No olives." The girl nodded. Her friend then followed Alex downstairs to the bar, leaving Dusan with no trail of thought in the presence of the girl which his eyes had yet diverge from.

"You have a very nice boat." She said,  trying to somther the rise of an awkward silence.

"Um, thank you." Dusan said, clearing his throat. "It's new actually."

"I can see that." She seemed fairly fascinated, as she dared approach the boats railing, admiring the view of Miami Beach.

"Yeah, how so?" Dusan asked, joining her side. But instead of admiring the view, he couldn't help but to admire her. She had eyes that sparked something within him, a sudden thrill.

"What do you mean?" A frown ruined her face.

Dusan felt the need to make himself clear. "You said that you could tell that my yacht is brand new,  how so?"

"Oh." She turned for her back to rest against the railing, her eyes now wandering across the newly swiped deck. "Well, it's every billionaires dream to own a boat and put it on display in Miami, or am I wrong?"

"I don't know." Dusan smiled. He was quite entertained. "I've never heard of this fenomenon. Surley the expert is you considering your experience with billionaires and boats."

The girl's eyebrow rose with interest, however Dusan's slik comment did not seem to have insulted her.

"Perhaps it's not every billionaires dream." She said, turning her head to face him. Again, her eyes sparked a thrill within Dusan, a thrill he was more than excited to explore. "But it sure is every newly crowned billionaires dream."

He wrinkled his nose.

The girl had a twinkle in her eyes. "My friend googled your net worth on our way here."

"I see." Dusan nodded. "Fair enough. I may or might not have bought this yacht in honor of my business flourishing this past year. However I'm not planning on docking it in Miami for display."

"Your gonna sail it across the seven seas?"

Dusan snorted, unintentionally of course. How did she make him do that? Her comment caught him of gaurd. "Not really." He said, collecting himself. "I'll have a friend of mine bring it home for me. He's more of a professional."

"Yeah, that's probably a better idea. Sailing a boat through pirate infested waters can be tricky without experience."

Again, the girl made him chuckled. It was pathetic how tipsy he came across. The girl must smell the glass of champagne he had earlier on his breath and think he's one of those creeps to invite yacht girls on their boats just to get them drunk. He had to assure her that he wasn't like that. He had to assure her that she could feel safe with him.

"We got martinis!"

Just as he was about to ensure her safety, the girl's friend showed up, followed by Alex who carried a tray of filled glasses. "Let's get this party started!" He said, handing out the drinks, making sure everyone had a glass in their hand for a toast. "To a lovely day, spent with two lovely girls." He said, as cheesy as ever.

"Cheers to that!" The blond girl said, rasing her glass.

Before downing his drink Dusan turned to her friend, making sure that she looked to be having a good time as well. He was suprised to find her smiling at him, an empty martini glass in her hand. "Drink up." She winked.

Dusan did exactly that. He would do whatever she asked him to, whatever.

#fanfiction #football imagine #dusan vlahovic imagine #dusan vlahovic x reader #dusan vlahovic #juventus #italy #italia #turin

[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 17

Fic masterlist

Hey! It feels like forever since I last posted, probably because I was kinda handling a crisis at home 😅 the crisis is very much still on, but I’m ~excluding myself from the narrative~ for mental health reasons, which hopefully means I’ll stop skipping classes and write more lol. Anyway. Have fun!

Warnings: language

Words: 2,7k

Rowan failed her.

He was reminiscing, reflecting on a rocking chair, under the faint light of the beach house’s side porch. Alone. The hammering sound of the rain against the roof was loud, but not as much as Rowan’s thoughts.

His doom was a lot easier to deal with when Aelin was just someone who broke his heart because she didn’t care enough about him.

He rocked his chair a bit harder, his muscles strained. He was too angry at himself to stay still, but too gloomy to have an eruptive reaction.

Rowan got up, pacing around the porch. He couldn’t stop thinking what would’ve happened if he’d done his job right. Maybe they would be together now. Maybe their co-parenting arrangement would’ve stayed friendly. Either way would be better than what it became.

The purely physical affair he had with Aelin was brutally interrupted by his incarceration and the discovery of her pregnancy. After that, they bonded in a way that made him feel like their souls were melting to be forged as one, but it was just another way of not having her.

Aelin was never fully his, and she would never be after what he’d done.

And even if she wanted to take a risk and have him, what if Rowan broke his family all over again?

Three knocks against the doorframe snapped Rowan out of his thoughts, and was all warning his mother gave him before sitting on a rocking chair.

“I brought some hot tea for you to tell me what happened. Come on.”

He complied, knowing he didn’t have the energy to defy Rory Whitethorn right now. Rowan could trust his mom to read his moods like a manual. He sat on the other rocking chair next to hers. “Did I ever tell you you’re too nosy?”

“I’m your mother. If I didn’t pry, I wouldn’t know anything that happened in your life ever since you left for college.”

He let out a quiet chuckle and sipped the chamomile tea she brought. Breathing the rain’s fresh air in, he let it fill his hollow chest. Rowan couldn’t even begin to explain his situation without uttering the words he dreaded the most, something he’d never dared say out loud before.

“I’m in love with Aelin.”

He stilled, bracing himself for the I’ve been telling you that forever or You’re six years too late, but all he got was an unreadable motherly look.

Rory reached for his upper arm, stroked it with her thumb before she said, “That’s a good thing, honey.”

“We were growing closer lately, and I… well, I didn’t have a plan, but—“ Rowan ran a hand through his hair, closed his eyes and let out a pained breath. “She explained today why she asked me to move out of her house. It’s bad, mom.”

“I see…” Rory trailed, his chest caving as she did. This was a bad indicator. The situation was so serious his mother was actually thinking before she opened her mouth. She continued, “I’m assuming you won’t tell me what happened?”

“I’m not sure I can.”

Even if Aelin allowed him to tell Rory about her mental illness, everything that happened between them back then still felt too raw, too intimate.

“That’s okay.” His mother gave him a small, reassuring smile. “Did she forgive you?”

“I—“ Rowan’s mouth hung open for a moment, then he closed it. He was about to say ‘no’, but even though Aelin didn’t say the words, she didn’t look mad or wounded either. “I’m not sure.”

“It was a long time ago, and she doesn’t look upset about it anymore.” His mom’s voice was soft, her touch on his forearm gentle. “This looks a lot like forgiveness to me.”

“Yeah, but that’s beside the point.” His mouth was ajar as he flailed his arms in front of him, struggling to explain that weight in his chest. “I shouldn’t be looking for cues and forgiveness. I shouldn’t have done anything that—“ Rowan rubbed both hands against his face, coming to terms with the fact that it’d take a while until he found the right words. “I don’t even feel like I deserve her forgiveness, to begin with.”

Rory recoiled. “But that’s not your decision.”

The sudden change in his mother’s tone, from soft to firm, snapped Rowan out of his spiral of self-loathing. “What?”

“Honey,” she pursed her lips, that trademark Whitethorn frown on. “Only Aelin can decide whether you deserve her or not. If she thinks you do and wants to try again…” Rory shrugged. “Just take that chance and don’t make the same mistake twice.”

Rowan’s mouth and shoulders went slack. “Am I supposed to forget I deeply wounded the mother of my child?”

Because that’s exactly what happened. Rowan was so scared to hurt Maisie it made him blind to some of Aelin’s needs, and he hurt his family anyway. His throat closed, and he felt as heavy as Aelin’s words on the night that crushed his dreams. That’s what happens, right? It’s impossible for a man to wound the mother exclusively. As if this isn’t bad enough, it leaves a trail of hurt that affects the entire family.

This one was on him.

“That was included in the ‘don’t fuck up again’ part.” Something about his expression made his mother soften. “It’s normal to wallow, but you can’t let that stop your life, Rowan. It’s always the same thing.” Rory sighed, and Rowan felt she was gazing right into his soul with the same green eyes she gave him. “Honey, you’re so full of what-ifs, it’s putting your entire life on hold. Sometimes you gotta be a little bold to get the things you want in life.”

Rowan stared at his mother, dizziness taking over him as his insides sank to the pit of his stomach. The rain was dying down, the gentle wind rustling his hair, but he couldn’t move.

At that moment, Rowan wanted to defend himself. He didn’t have the energy to, but he wanted to say that his mother was wrong, that she didn’t understand. He wanted to get up and scream.

He doesn’t like the way things are now, he never liked the co-parenting arrangement.

He didn’t choose this.

He never chose to wait for things to settle until six years passed by, it just happened.

Rowan is a careful person, that’s part of him. Always weighing his next step, always waiting for the right time.

And while he waited for the timing to be perfect, Aelin got pregnant, moved in with him, birthed his baby, kicked him out, grew to hate him, stopped hating him, and now their daughter is five years old.

He was still gravitating around her, waiting for the right time to do something. Anything. Rowan wasn’t even sure what exactly he was supposed to do, he just knew it involved bringing Aelin back into his life.

Sensing his struggle, Rory sat back and decided to not press on the subject. “This reminds me of your dad, you know?” Her gaze grew distant, a bittersweet smile on her lips. “It’s easier for him when I mess up than when he does. The guilt is always the worst part for him.”

“Sounds like Dad,” Rowan said around a faint chuckle.

Rory wiggled her eyebrows. ”You know what helped him a lot?”

“Huh.”

“Therapy.”

Rowan tensed, and he narrowed his eyes at his mother, trying to decide if he should believe her. “You’re lying.”

“I am! But it got into your stubborn head, didn’t it?”

Rowan chuckled, his gloomy state not strong enough to survive his mother’s antics. “Not now that I know it’s a lie!”

She gave him a small grin, then reached for her son’s hand. “Honey, your father’s mental well-being is called retirement, a grown child, and leaving the big city to a beach house. You can’t have any of that now, so you should consider therapy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rowan waved her off. “I’ll think about it.”

“Also, you should really talk to Aelin. You’re not good at reading cues, honey, you got this from your dad as well.”

He gave her a sidelong glance, noticing that she was off her handling-my-son-in-crisis mode, back to her usual self. “Is that so?”

Rory adjusted herself in chair, picking back the long-forgotten mug of tea. “Did I ever tell you your father hired a band when he proposed to me? You have no idea the amount of unsubtle hints I gave him.”

“Mom.” Rowan interrupted, giving her a pointed, knowing look. “I don’t remember saying anything about proposing.”

He had no idea if Aelin would let him get anywhere close to that.

“I know.” Rory’s elbow on his side was as faint as her subtlety. “But keep that in mind.”

He chuckled. “The band or the hints?”

“Both. Especially hints about bands.”

~~

“And what if you want to swim?” He asked, crouched on the floor and eye-to-eye with Maisie, his face as serious as it could be.

“I can’t swim without a grown-up.”

“Any grown-up?”

“No strangers!” She dramatically shook her head. “Just Mommy, Auntie Sellene and Aidan.”

“Maisie.” Rowan’s voice was firm. “Your cousin Aidan isn’t a grown-up.”

“But he’s nine!”

“No, he’s still a kid. And…” He bowed his head, running his palm against his forehead. “I’m forgetting something.”

“Daddy.” She gave him a pointed look. “You’re being a buzzard.”

Rowan bit back a smile. The weight in his chest almost crushed him to pieces the first time Maisie called him that, about a month ago, but he was growing to love hearing the nickname Aelin gave him come from his daughter’s mouth.

“Oh.” He looked back up to her. “And what do we do about the beach animals?”

Maisie crossed her arms. “Leave them alone because it’s their home.”

“Perfect.” He kissed the top of his daughter’s head. “Time for sunscreen.”

“You done, Buzzard?”

Rowan startled, snapping his eyes to the doorway and finding Aelin there. If he wasn’t on his knees already, he would be now.

Her pink bikini made his eyes linger, but was enough to make him train his eyes back to her face, and Rowan thanked Mala she was at least wearing denim shorts. He plastered on a smile, looking at her face. Not her pink bikini and exposed curves. Blonde hair—not the ends hugging her breasts—and blue eyes. He focused on her face.

It was a regular beach attire, but Aelin didn’t need much to take his breath away.

She smiled at her daughter, pointing at the lotion in Rowan’s hand. “Auntie Sellene can’t find Bree’s sunscreen, can you hand yours to them?”

Maisie got the tube from her dad and ran downstairs, a girl on a mission. After a quick peek in the hallway, Aelin closed the door and took a step closer to Rowan, her arms crossed.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?”

Rowan shook his head. “I got a thing.”

“You got a thing… in a city where you have no work, and half the people you know are going to the beach?”

His lips pressed together in a slight grimace. “I’m staying home with the other half.”

“Rowan, are you—“ Aelin took a step closer and lowered her voice before asking, “Are we alright?”

“Yeah.” His voice came higher than intended, then he corrected, “No. Um.” Rowan grimaced. “Actually, can we—“

“Come on, Aelin!” Sellene shouted from downstairs.

He gave her a close-lipped smile. “You should go.”

“Sure.”

She took a step back, eyeing him carefully before fully turning around. Rowan’s shoulders dropped in relief when she left. They needed to talk, yes, but Rowan needed to organize his thoughts before they did.

He waited in his room until the rental car drove off the garage, and headed towards his dad’s office. Rowan flinched every time the wooden floor creaked—he didn’t know why, since he wasn’t sneaking, but something about that moment made him want to go unnoticed. It wasn’t his childhood home, but it still had the same smell of baked goods and the same pictures on the wall. Except that now the pictures of Rowan as a kid were side-by-side with Maisie’s.

In one of the frames, he was wearing his daily camouflage uniform, while Aelin wore the hospital staff’s maternity uniform—white pants and a white wrap blouse she absolutely hated, but her blinding smile suggested she wasn’t worried about it at the moment. Rowan remembered it was taken on the day they moved into her house, but he never understood why his mother kept it there. She wasn’t even with them that day, Aelin texted her that one, but maybe she noticed how Aelin’s silly smiles and enormous bump broke his usual serious stance in pictures.

Rowan didn’t miss how she ignored his love confession yesterday.

He glanced at the watch at the end of the hall. It was almost time. He wanted a better way to look at things, but it was a difficult task. What was Rowan supposed to tell her? Hi. Remember when you made me realize the biggest mistake of my life, I confessed my love to you, and you stayed silent? I already have my rejection, I just need the complete humiliation to have some closure.

It could be a dramatic depiction of what he was going to say, but he couldn’t find a better way to put it right now.

Depending on how the conversation went, Rowan could even grovel enough to confess that he didn’t need Aelin to love him back, that was not his issue. If she chose to share her life with him, that’d be more than he could ever ask for.

But would that be what he deserves?

Deserving of her or not, Aelin is the mother of his child, the love of his life. He didn’t expect her forgiveness, but he couldn’t let go of her either.

He opened his dad’s computer and logged into his email to get the link. He opened Zoom two minutes early, but the meeting’s host was already there.

“Hey there!” Yrene cheered from his screen. “I wasn’t expecting your text, but it’s good to see you.”

This session had been canceled for a very long time, since he and Aelin decided to not do therapy during their vacation. However, it came in very handy that Rowan’s mental turmoil started a day before their weekly session was supposed to happen, so he texted Yrene asking if they could meet online.

Rowan tried to smile, but his expression was strained. “Did I crash your plans?”

“Not at all! I was going to lie on the couch and play Subway Surfers for an hour. It’s a good thing you called, since I’m always encouraging people to fight their vices.” Yrene leaned closer to her screen, as if it’d help her see Rowan’s better. “Where’s Aelin?”

He scratched the back of his head, fighting the unease in the bottom of his stomach. “It’s just me today.”

She straightened her posture, squaring her shoulders. “An individual session, then?”

Rowan nodded.

“Good!” Yrene cleared her throat and continued in a serious tone, “I mean, good. What made you take that decision?”

Rowan swallowed, fiddling with his fingers and steeling himself for what he was about to say. For the second time.

“I’m in love with Aelin.”

“Go on.”

He frowned. “You don’t look surprised.”

“I’m really not.” Yrene’s own blunt answer made her grimace. “What I mean is, I’ve been working with families for a long time. It gets easy to tell.”

“Sure.”

He looked at Yrene. She looked at him. He was the first one to break, darting a glance at the wall, feigning interest there to ignore the awkwardness of this situation. Rowan wasn’t used to leading conversations, Aelin and Yrene usually did that.

“Okay.” His therapist cleared her throat. “I’ll give you two options, and you’ll choose how we start: you can tell me what happened in your vacation, or we can talk about how you only choose therapy because of your family, never yourself.”

Rowan was halfway into a flinch when he schooled his expression. This wasn’t a difficult choice at all.

“We arrived here last Saturday…”

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[eternalbuckley]

You are wonderful in the way you are. — eddie munson

SUMMARY: You are bisexual, and you were trying to find a way on how to come out to your friends. Telling Robin and Steve was the easy part but you were anxious about telling Eddie the truth about you. You really wanted to because he was your closest person.

word count: 1,499

genre: fluff, comfort | gn!bisexual!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings: slight description of anxiety and panic (from reader), relationship status with eddie is not described (you can see it in the way how you want), y/n is used a few times, crying/tears, slight jealous eddie, use of petnames (Sweetheart, Angel and Darling), it‘s not proofread, english is not my first language — let me know if i forgot something!

a/n: pride month is ending tonight and I wanted to officially make my comeback to writing here after almost a year. and OF COURSE to write something small for Eddie and bisexual!readers. I am bisexual myself and haven’t come out to anyone in the past few years yet excluding social media. Which is why I really wanted to write this. So whether you are bisexual or not, you‘re valid and I’m so proud of you! Never change because you’re awesome!! Happy reading 🫶

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know! reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and welcomed!

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You closed your eyes and hugged Robin and Steve back very tightly. Your body was still a bit shaky but you slowly calmed down while no one said anything. A smile slowly made up its way to your lips because you knew they supported you. You knew Robin was a lesbian and Steve was the most supportive person you‘ve ever seen after Robin came out to you a few months ago. You knew nothing would happen or you hoped nothing would. Anxiety still won when you were sitting with them on the floor in the back of your house.

"I… I mean we are so proud of you." Robin said with a smile while her and Steve let go of you.

They both took your hand and Steve nodded, agreeing with Robin.

"I am glad you trust us so much." He added and you let out a small laughter with slight tears in your eyes.

And that‘s how you spend the rest of the night: Talking about your, Robin‘s and Steve‘s different crushes. Filled with many laughter and tears. Some out of sadness but most of them because you all were happy for one night.

Weeks passed by since you came out to the both idiots you loved so much. You grew closer than ever before and that‘s when Eddie got suspicious. Of course, you all were friends that was nothing new but you being so close with them. Usually, you guys would hangout every Friday night and get high together to just enjoy the time together. But you skipped these nights the last two weeks now and he was scared to lose you for whatever reason.

The thing is, you wanted to spend time with him but you were scared as well. You wanted to tell him the truth about yourself as well and you already had a plan. But you were too scared to be alone with him. You had a lot of serious conversations before but this was the most scariest thing you ever wanted to talk about. With Steve and Robin, it was an easier thing because you knew they would support you. And you were sure Eddie would too but you were still terrified. Steve and Robin comforted you and told you that you should take as much time as you need. They didn’t want you to worry and pressure yourself into coming out to Eddie. Both of them knew how close you and Eddie were and that this was very important to you.

You were currently getting ready to hang out with Steve and Robin again. It was a Friday night and you wanted to watch a movie with them. But there was one thing you forgot to cancel: the planned movie night with Eddie. You were deeply into listening to your music and danced to it without noticing Eddie standing in the doorframe of your room. He was led in by your parents. They liked him and were happy you had someone to spend time with. He watched you with an admiring smile and tried to make no noise.

You were still dancing and the moment you faced the door you let out a small scream. "EDDIE! What the hell!" You held your chest.

He chuckled and pushed him off the door to step into your room. "Hi there, Sweetheart."

"H-hi." You looked at him, nervously. You now remembered that you forgot to cancel the movie night with him tonight and kicked yourself in your mind. "What are you doing here?"

"We planned a movie night, you remember?" He slumped down on your back with a big smile.

"Oh... Yeah sure." You turned around to your mirror. You tried to think about an idea to get out of here.

His smile faltered. "You forgot it. Am I right?" He sighed. "Thought we could spend some time again I haven’t seen you in a while now."

You looked at him through the mirror and saw his changed mood. "I did. I‘m sorry.. I." You put down your perfume bottle. "I had plans with Steve and Robin."

He looked at you. "Again?" You nodded your head.

"You‘ve been having our with them a lot for a while now. Is there something I should know, Y/N?" Eddies voice sounded sad but there was a slight hint of jealousy.

You didn’t answer him but bit your lower lip. You knew you couldn’t run away from this moment forever and would have to face it someday.

Eddie sighed again and got up. "You don’t have to tell me. The next time you just shouldn’t forget to cancel our nights. You know? Unless you want to stop it completely, the I‘ll have to accept it."

You turned around and faced him but were quiet.

"Fine. If you don’t want to talk with me that‘s fine but.." He hesitated. "I deserve answers."

You nodded your head. "Yes. Yes, you do, Eddie."

"Then give me answers, Y/N. At least answer me why you keep avoiding to hangout? Did I do something wrong?"

"What? No! Of course not. It’s nothing about you. It‘s just…" You sighed and closed your door, signalling him this was something serious. You sat down on your bed, hands getting sweaty.

Eddie still stood in the middle of your room and had his eyes focused on you and only you. He noticed the change of your body language and immediately sat down next to you and taking your hand.

"You know you can tell me everything. I won’t judge you."

You looked up to him and had tears in your eyes. He looked softly at you and squeezed your hand.

"I‘m not sure about this, Eddie." You eventually whispered.

He knitted his brows together. "I could never judge you, Sweetheart. Never ever. I swear on my life." He put his other hand over his chest, like the dramatic king he always his.

This caused you to chuckle and he smiled because of it. "Y/N, if you don’t want to tell me, it‘s fine. I don’t want to pressure you into telling me what‘s going on. I can wait."

You shook your head and looked down to your both hands. With the other one you wiped away your tears and deeply breathes in. You were nervous. Extremely nervous.

"There‘s something I‘ve been keeping from you, Eddie. And it‘s a really big thing for me." You closed your eyes for a second. "I‘m scared of telling you. I... I‘m scared of all the possible reactions you could give and I‘m scared it will be one of the bad ones."

He looked at you but didn’t say anything. Eddie wanted to give you as much as time you would need — even if it would take all night. He would be there for you. His kind was working on all the possible things you could mean but he had no idea of what you would say next. It could be everything. But he for sure knew, whatever it is he won’t judge you. He never could, you‘re way too important and special for him. He admired you in the way you are, no matter what.

"I... I am bisexual, Eddie." You breathed out, hands still shaking, and you didn’t dare to look up to him.

Eddie sat there in silence. A big and generous smile appearing on his lips. He immediately hugged you and kissed the side of your head. You didn’t say anything and hugged back. Tears flooding out of your eyes because all you were feeling right now was relief.

A few minutes pass by without any words until Eddie loosened the hug to look at you. "I am so proud of you, angel. You know that?"

You looked at him, the tears slowly stopping and chuckled a bit.

"I am so glad you trust me enough to tell me this about you. And I couldn’t be happier to keep this with me forever." He wiped away your tears. "You‘re wonderful in the way you are. Your sexuality won’t ever change this picture of you. Okay?"

You nodded your head and smiled at him. "Thank you, Eddie. You have no idea how relieved I am now."

He smiled at you and hugged you again. But he knitted his eyebrows together again, he was curious. "Is this why you cancelled our movie nights?" He wasn’t angry or mad.

"Y-yeah. I‘m sorry. I know it‘s stup-"

Eddie interrupted you. "It‘s not." He looked at you again. "I should be sorry."

You raised your eyebrows. "Why should you be? I cancelled them not you. I didn’t say why."

"I was jealous." He admitted.

"Jealous? Of what? Steve and Robin?" You slightly laughed. "Oh my god you were!"

He looked down embarrassed but laughed with you. "Yeah, I was."

You squeezed his hand. "There is absolutely no reason to be jealous, Eds. You will always be my guy." A smile appeared on both of your lips.

"And you will always be my sweetheart."

#⚘; — my writing ✧♡ #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things angst #eternalbuckley

[1d1195]

Screens II

Read the first part here: Screens

Another thank you to my 🪁-anon. Without you and your kind request, this story would not exist. I hope you enjoy this part as much as possible. Thank you to the following anon's for their support, I don't have names or emoji's for you but here are the kind messages I've received patiently waiting for a part 2: one and only Screens fan, #1 Screens fan, and this one that sobbed while trying to finish reading it. I did not mean to exclude anyone, I typed Screens into my blog's search bar to gather this information.

Finally, this anon provided a good chunk of the inspiration.

I hope you all enjoy it. I wrote it in a sense in a series of flashbacks and you will see this ◊ to indicate the difference in flashback scenes vs. my standard * to indicate a bit of time has passed.

"Okay on with it, lady. You talk to much." --Everyone reading this (probably).

Harry wasn’t so distracted by how pretty she looked with hair and paint falling across her pretty skin and over her beautiful face that he missed her saying the word ‘if.’ A hopeful sign that she believed in a miracle even if she was too scared to say so herself on any given day. Part of him also noted and hated the idea of her finding an apartment without him; even after a mere nine months of being in absolute love with her. He wished he had asked her to move in right then.

December | Holiday Break | 8:30 AM

Harry was extremely mindful of announcing his presence around her because he hated how jumpy she got when anyone else spooked her because she didn’t always see them coming around the corner or something. He especially did so in the quiet of the morning or the stillness of the evening. “Angel?” He called into his apartment. It was chilly on their first day of holiday break from work. Harry wanted her to stay the whole week with him. She couldn’t deny she didn’t want the same thing. He ventured into the winter air and returned with hot coffee, foam on top just as she liked.

They’d been together, officially, for a little over a year. But having known her a bit for the better part of a decade, it was easier than he ever thought to be in a relationship with her and he wished that he had thought of it long before last November. “Mm,” she hummed barely loud enough for him to hear as he approached his bedroom. “M’sleeping,” she mumbled against the pillow as he made his way across the room.

He chuckled quietly and set the coffees on his nightstand before slipping back under the covers with her. She rolled herself on top of him, legs on either side of his hips and her face pressed against the front of his shoulder. She was scrunched against him like a little ball. “Don’t move.”

He wouldn’t have if someone tried to force him to move. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed the side of her head. “Coffee’ll get cold,” he mumbled, rubbing his fingers against the back of her head. She sighed but said nothing. “C’mon, kitten. Y’told me t’not let y’sleep late,” he cooed and kissed her again.

“I lied,” she murmured. He chuckled. “M’too heavy, that’s it, isn’t it? Want me off you?” He rolled his eyes and squeezed her tight against him.

“No, y’silly thing.” She lifted her head up and hovered above him for a moment. She didn’t speak but she lightly drew her finger over his features. He watched as her eyes squinted, sliding over the trail of her finger in silence. She did this at least once a week. Usually when they saw one another on the weekends because they had more time than their Thursday night ritual. “What are y’doing?” He asked her.

Her cheeks reddened and she shook her head. She didn’t say and Harry let it drop. He always let it drop when he asked. Part of him thought nothing of it, surely it was for a portrait—a painting or a drawing she was working on. She had seen her do it with a rose, tracing the thorns carefully; or the arm of a park bench, admiring how it looked in the afternoon light.

Nonetheless, he enjoyed the way her fingers felt on his skin. It was one of the many things she taught him: using his sense of touch so much more.

Carefully he tightened his grip on her as he rolled the pair of them onto their sides to face one another. He brought his hand to her face and gently brushed his thumb across her lips and then traced his finger over her brow line, over the bridge of her nose, before settling his hand firmly against her cheek. “When’s your appointment?” He asked.

She sighed and shook her head. “Noon,” she mumbled. He gave her body a gentle squeeze as he held her.

“It’ll be alright, kitten.”

“I can’t teach if I can’t see,” she reminded him. “I’m sitting right in front of you, and I can hardly see you,” she whispered quietly.

He frowned and reached behind her for her glasses on the other little table beside his bed. He slid them into place, mindful to not catch her ear or pull too hard against her hair. He smiled at her. It made her stomach flip because Harry was by far the most beautiful person she had ever met. “I love your glasses,” he whispered. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I look like a librarian.”

“The sexiest librarian ’ve ever laid eyes on,” he promised and ignored her snort. “Not only do they help y’see, but they help me see. S’like they magnify your eyes. Swear I can see everything you’re hiding in that beautiful brain of yours,” he murmured and pressed a kiss to her forehead, right between the rim of the glasses hovering over her eyes.

“They look like coke bottles.”

He shook his head. “I think you’re gorgeous,” he promised and pulled them down slightly and pressed a kiss to each of her eyelids. Silently he hoped and prayed to whatever god was out there that her appointment would give her good news and make the ache in her mind and heart lessen just a bit. He didn’t care if she needed glasses by any means or if her eyesight got worse. None of that mattered to him at all. He just wanted her to be a little happier than she was before.

*

Over the past year, he had seen so many stages of her grief. He saw the anger she felt when she missed a step and dropped her food outside the restaurant causing a mess all over her shoes and the entry way. It made her eyes water as she asked the hostess if she could have some towels to clean it up so no one would slip on their way out. Harry helped her clean it up and even placed the quickest to go order ever made so she could have extra for lunch the following day and promised her it was no big deal that she spilled.

 He watched her sadness as she couldn’t see things in plain sight—like the ever-hiding remote always evading her vision. Or when she accidentally put cinnamon in her pasta dish because she swore it was paprika.

The pain that puckered her eyebrows together all because her glasses and the screens at work bothered her so much.

Harry begged her so plainly to ask him for help. He had the phone pressed to his ear as he laid his head back against the sofa. Her voice made his stomach knot in the best way—she made him weak in the knees and the only thing he regretted about dating her was not doing it sooner. “I’ll bother you,” she whispered into the phone.

“Kitten, of course not.”

“If you’re hanging out with friends, and you need to come get me because it’s raining at night...and I can’t drive myself home?”

“Then I’ll say, ‘sorry lads, m’princess needs me.’ If they have a problem with that, s’on them,” he said simply with a shrug.

She released a quiet giggle despite how much she didn’t want to. “You’re much nicer to me than anyone I’ve ever known.”

◊

But she wasn’t always so down about it. Sometimes she had a really good sense of humor about it. Harry didn’t love it all that much though. It hurt him to hear her joke about something he knew in his heart hurt her quite a bit. But he was glad she could be in good spirits about it.

“Listen,” she said almost a month after their first kiss. “You’d be surprised how often someone says, ‘what are you blind?’ You’re just going to have to roll with it. It’s okay. I’ve heard it a lot and I say it to myself sometimes. I’ve been working on new comebacks but so far ‘legally, no; spiritually yes,’ is my favorite.”

Harry felt a wave of awkwardness wash over him, but she just continued to smile this gorgeous, bright smile that he had no choice but to let her make her joke.

And if he did say ‘What are you, blind?’ a few days later, well... at least she had warned him.

◊

Harry read to her sometimes. It made her feel like a little kid, but he didn’t dwell on it. He acted as if it was completely normal for a boyfriend to read out loud like a kindergarten teacher to his girlfriend. She snuggled up to him in his lap and glanced at the pages every so often as he held the book in front of them. She had to be careful though because Harry’s voice was so soothing and even though she loved to hear him talk, there had been many chapters she missed because he accidentally put her to sleep with his melodic voice.

◊

Sleeping together in the quiet parts of the night were some of his favorite times. Whether something more intimate happened between them or not. Night was when he felt most attuned to her. Harry couldn’t see any more than she could. Touching her, feeling the goosebumps he left in the wake of his fingertips against her skin made him much more aware of how touch could bring him to his knees for her. He also paid close attention to her near silent, soft whines of pleasure or how her laugh seemed so much brighter in the dark.

But listening to her speak at night might have been one of his most favorite things. “Why did y’leave me after that party?” He whispered. It bothered him a bit when they first started dating.

Her face was pressed to his chest, her finger moving over his face as it always did, this time focusing on the shape of his jaw, outlining the scruffy remnants of hair growth since he last shaved. “Why would you want to be with the near-blind girl?” She shrugged.

It took him no time at all to answer. “Cause she’s perfect.” She smiled and pressed a kiss almost touching the cross necklace that dangled between the sparrows on his chest.

She never asked him again if it mattered to him if she’d go totally blind. Not since she asked after their first kiss last November. He said it all right then at that moment. She believed him so easily because no, she hadn’t ever thought about it. There wasn’t a time when she thought that maybe she wouldn’t go blind. So, for Harry to believe it was possible was more than enough.

◊

Harry worried about her a lot more than most people did a lot of the time. More than her family who were so used to her poor sight it didn’t even phase them when she handed them the wrong cups or passed along the wrong items because they weren’t clear enough about where they were. More than strangers who would roll their eyes at her when she bumped into them on public transport.

But mostly herself because while she had been living with bad eyes for so long, it took Harry some getting used to the ins and outs of the harder things she had to do. One day they painted two canvases together, spinning them back and forth between them for five minutes creating fun little landscapes that didn’t make any sense. “Would y’ever want a seeing eye dog?” He asked. Harry was a terrible painter, but he’d do anything to spend time with her doing her favorite things. “Bet we could get you a really cute pup,” he smiled.

She smirked so cutely, and she wiped her hand across her forehead to get a piece of hair out of her eyes. In doing so, she painted a stripe of pink paint across her forehead, making his heart feel so jumpy with love for her. “Maybe if I went totally blind,” she shrugged. “Would need to find an apartment that allows a cute dog too,” she reminded him. As if a seeing-eye dog wasn’t an exception to most places.

Harry wasn’t so distracted by how pretty she looked with hair and paint falling across her pretty skin and over her beautiful face that he missed her saying the word ‘if.’ A hopeful sign that she believed in a miracle even if she was too scared to say so herself on any given day. Part of him also noted and hated the idea of her finding an apartment without him; even after a mere nine months of being in absolute love with her. He wished he had asked her to move in right then.

◊

Loving one another didn’t come without some hardships either.

Once more she found herself bumping into someone. Harry had gone ahead to the car to get to her door and naturally the moment he left her side she was nearly falling flat on her bum. However, the person bumping into her was quick, caught her around the waist before she hit the ground. “Oh, easy love. You alright?”

“I’m so sorry,” she said quickly.

“Hardly your fault, love. Don’t be sorry,” he smirked. “S’easy to fall for me,” he winked at her.

She gaped in surprise. Harry wasn’t surprised in the slightest because she was by far the most adorable person on the planet let alone that street. “Excuse me,” Harry said flatly. Harry eyed the arm around her waist that didn’t belong to her or himself, and the man turned his attention to Harry.

“Oh, of course you’re taken...Someone as beautiful as you would have to be,” he released his grip from her. “Sorry, mate,” he said to Harry and then winked at the beautiful girl.

Harry grabbed her hand and marched quickly toward his car without so much as another glance in his direction. “Harry,” she whined as he tugged her. He wasn’t rough, exactly. She didn’t think it was possible for him to be rough with her even when he was grumpy. Her mind flashed to that very first day when he looked at her with so much annoyance for getting food all over his clothes and then separating him from his friends.

Harry often got so protective of her that it came across as overbearing and every so often, he couldn’t help but feel jealous when someone else helped her. She had done so much on her own for so long the idea that she didn’t need him or worse, needed someone else made him so utterly sad that he had a hard time expressing how upset it made him. “M’sorry,” he whispered.

“Sorry? Why?”

“Jus’...I get so sad when other people help you,” he frowned. She turned toward him in her seat. “Not because I don’t want them t’help you. But because...I jus’ like helping you. Makes me think y’don’t really need me,” he mumbled. “I know I wasn’t always...so outwardly nice t’you. Think I was a bit of a dick,” he said quietly. “Think it would make a lot of sense if y’found...someone that swept y’off your feet right away.”

She reached out and cupped the side of his face and leaned forward to kiss him on the lips briefly. “I need you, always. More than that...I want you,” she said softly. Harry felt like a lovesick teenager at her words. Wanting him really was so much better than needing him. Because she didn’t. She was wonderfully independent and had done so much on her own for so long, she really didn’t need him. But wanting him around? Harry loved her so much he wondered how he ever could have been without her. “So much it feels like I need you.”

He leaned forward to steal another kiss and she smiled, her glasses bumping his forehead a bit. “I love you,” he promised.

She smiled. “Would you like to know when I fell in love with you?” She asked.

He blinked at her response. “Well, sure,” he nodded.

“When you held my hand at the party and walked me to your room...it was like...I don’t know, I felt like a princess,” she told him. “You totally saved me. I had no plan. No escape. I just didn’t want to bother anyone.”

He smiled at the memory. “I loved sleeping with you,” he winked. She pushed him gently and shook her head. “No really, y’looked so cute in m’clothes. Wanted you t’stay in my bed forever.”

“I bet you did,” she mumbled.

“Ha-ha,” he rolled his eyes. “Never would have thought your cute mind would constantly sit in a gutter, kitten. Yes, of course I wanted that,” he grumbled making her laugh. “Really I jus’ wanted you.”

“You want me too?” She wrinkled her nose making her eyes crinkle at the corners and Harry turned fully to hold her face between his hands. He leaned in to brush his lips over hers like he did the first time he kissed her. She gave the same little whine she did. It went right through his heart.

“What gave it away?” He mumbled against her lips.

◊

“What if it’s hereditary?” She whispered in the dark.

Harry turned to face her even though he couldn’t see anything in the darkened room. He could feel her breath and the anxiety in her voice was so palpable he could feel her voice. “Then...who better to help them than you?”

She shook her head. “I wouldn’t wish this on the people that made fun of me,” she mumbled. “I can’t imagine a child like me,” she admitted quietly. “It was so hard.”

Harry frowned and inched closer to her. His nose bumped into hers, he brought his hand up to her cheek. What he said next, he meant whether he was part of the future or not. With everything in him, it was one of the truest things he ever told her. “I can’t think of a luckier child than one like you, m’love.”

◊

It wasn’t always about her eyes. There were pictures they took and vacations they enjoyed. He loved her family and how they made him feel like he was part of her holiday traditions. Gemma and his mum adored her and asked about her more than they asked about Harry.

She had the best jokes from books she read. Her art was beautiful and taking walks through the park with her were some of his favorite dates he’d ever been on.

It was five months in when he told her he loved her for the first time. “You are the most beautiful woman I know,” he said. She smiled at him with the lightest touch of pink painting her cheeks. She made him stop and proceeded to lie in the middle of the sidewalk to capture a picture of the sky between the branches of a tree on the unseasonably warm April day. Harry took his own picture of her doing just that. “See?” He asked, showing her the picture he took.

She looked at the picture momentarily and then back at him. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course, kitten,” he rolled his eyes. “Inside and out; the kindness and warmth you have inside you is probably jus’ a fraction of the beauty y’display outwardly for someone like me that falls in love with you every time y’smile,” he grabbed her hand continued walking down the street enjoying the spring air. She was quiet for the length of the road and when they stopped to wait for the light to change at the crosswalk, she looked up at him at her side.

“You’re in love with me?” She asked.

He blinked in surprise, feeling a bit tongue tied. He chuckled awkwardly as he glanced at her. “Uh...sorry... I should have waited...said that in the privacy of your apartment...or mine, or something. Not in the middle of a busy street.”

She smiled and shook her head at him. “I love you, too.”

The light changed and back again, but neither of them noticed because he was too busy kissing her while the crowd moved around them.

◊

Sometimes she got so angry and frustrated with herself that she would accidentally take it out on Harry. Like the time she didn’t see how close her fingers were to the knife and nicked herself good. Not enough to need stitches or even a trip to the minute clinic, but enough to make Harry ooh and ahh over her. “Angel,” he murmured after she ripped her hand away from him.

“Stop,” she sniffed. She wasn’t in pain—at least not from her little wound she inflicted upon herself. “Just stop.”

He frowned and pressed his lips together trying not to overwhelm her with his worry. In those moments, he stood waiting patiently. Eventually she would say sorry, and he would shake his head. “You don’t have t’apologize t’me ever, m’love...not ‘bout this.”

He knew this was hard for her. Every time she hurt herself or dropped something, it was a reminder that her eyes weren’t working the way they were supposed to. The last thing he wanted was her spiraling and worrying about what would come next.

But he wanted her to know that whatever it was, he would be right beside her. Seeing for her even if she couldn’t.

*

December | Holiday Break | Lunch time

She never let Harry go into her appointments with her. However, he made sure he was the first one to meet her at the door right outside the office because her eyes were almost always dilated. It amplified how difficult it was for her to see where she was going. After nearly bumping into someone as she exited, she apologized awkwardly. Almost instantly, Harry was there looping her arm through his elbow. “Hey beautiful,” he said kissing the top of her head. He didn’t say anything else. Didn’t ask about the appointment. He knew better. She would say something if needed.

He opened her car door, helping her into the seat and placed sunglasses over her eyes to protect her widened pupils. He kissed the space where her forehead met her hairline and closed her safely in the car. Once inside the car himself, he drove off, planning to get her more coffee because she hated these appointments and Harry wanted to treat her for being brave even when she didn’t want to be. She leaned against the window and didn’t speak. Harry placed a hand on her leg, and she wrapped her fingers around his. He gave her a squeeze and continued driving silently.

“They have a new... cutting edge surgery they want me to try,” she whispered to the window.

He squeezed her hand again, glanced long enough to see her contemplative reflection in the glass. “How d’you feel about that?” He asked.

“Nervous.”

He smiled weakly. He wished he could look at her, but he knew talking about it was easier when he wasn’t looking at her—even if she couldn’t fully see him. Harry ordered at the drive through and then continued driving to a little spot by a lake. It was still so chilly outside—even at the warmest part of the day. There was steam coming off the water from the warmth of the sun beating off it. She took a picture of it on her phone and Harry knew the look of concentration on her face was trying to figure out how to recreate the steam in a painting.

They were sitting on the hood of his car. It was still warm from the engine and Harry had a blanket laid over their laps. She leaned back against the windshield holding the coffee cup upright to keep her hands warm. Harry turned to his side to look at her. He brought his hand to push her hair away from her forehead and he traced along her hairline. “Do y’want surgery?”

She sighed. “I wanna be able to see.”

He smiled gently and gave her cheek a kiss. “Will it...get worse? If y’try it?”

She shook her head. “No more than the risk of a regular surgery. It won’t be perfect. I’d still need glasses. I’ll still have trouble seeing. But...I won’t go blind. It’ll either stop it from getting worse or it won’t work,” she shrugged.

“Sounds like you have nothing t’lose then, angel,” he murmured.

She was quiet for a second. “I trace your face so much because I worry, I’ll never see it again,” she whispered. Harry was speechless...all those times he asked her what she was doing... He never thought that was her reason. “I want it to be muscle memory,” she explained. “So... if my eyes...if I can’t see anymore...I hope I can sculpt it from memory,” she whispered.

That beautiful word ‘if’ made his heart so full of love for her.

But, by far that was the most...genuine thing anyone had ever said to him. “God, I wish I dated you so much earlier,” he mumbled and leaned down to kiss her as deeply as he could manage while the cold December air cooled her coffee down once more while he gently traced his tongue along her lower lip.

Her cheeks turned this beautiful shade of red that Harry loved so much. The sunglasses over her eyes hid so much from him. He meant every word earlier. He loved her glasses so much, if only allowing him to see deeper into her soul. “If...it works though...” she whispered after a minute of kissing. He didn’t say anything because he sensed there was more, and she swallowed hard. “I’m scared I won’t be me...I feel like my whole life has been put on hold because of my eyes. I don’t know if I know how to live without... thinking about them.”

“Then we’ll learn t’live without thinking ‘bout them,” he shrugged reaching for a piece of her hair and stroking it like a paint brush across her face. “You’re more than your eyes, kitten.”

Her heart felt so warm at his words. Harry always made the well-being of her eyes an effort for the two of them. It wasn’t a battle she faced alone. Harry was there the whole time encouraging her, helping her, keeping a literal eye on things for her when she couldn’t. It didn’t bother him when she cried about not seeing something. When she bumped into walls or doors, he never said anything other than to make sure she was alright. If she dropped something and made a mess, he simply helped her clean it up. Harry was her personal chauffeur, and he didn’t care at all.

“To be fair m’love, I would be driving y’around anyway because you’re a lady and I adore you and m’mum taught me t’hold car doors open for the women I adore. And I’d rather drive and keep y’safe... plus you’re a terrible driver even when y’can see. S’a danger to you, me, and everyone else on the road.”

“We wouldn’t...” she whispered quietly and shook her head, looking away from him.

“Wouldn’t what, m’love?” He murmured looking at her with a frown on his lips. Worry etched between his eyes.

“We wouldn’t...be in love...if it weren’t for the fact I can’t see,” she reminded him and turned to look back at his expectant face waiting for her to complete her thought. “I wouldn’t have spilled food on you. You wouldn’t have sat up front and asked if I couldn’t see. There wouldn’t have been writing notes for me or making sure I was okay at that party or at the pub...”

“Kitten, I learned t’read Braille for you. I don’t care if y’can see or not. I would do anything for you. I may have fallen for you because you couldn’t see but I don’t stay because of it. I stay because I adore you.”

“What?” She whispered breathlessly. She sat up fully while Harry stayed lying flat against the windshield. “You learned...you did what?”

He shrugged. “M’probably not very good at it. But I don’t know...thought if it came down to it, if it got worse and you were sad...I’d want t’help.”

Harry saw the tear slip down her cheek past her sunglasses. “Harry Styles,” she practically sighed. “You are...I don’t know...”

“The love of your life, maybe?” He smiled cutely and reached up to rub the tear from her cheek.

For the second time in her life, she had so much hope swelling in her heart. Harry, the cause of it once more. “And hopefully every life I’ve ever have and ever will live.”

--

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#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #screens

[sincerelylivvv]

pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

summary: nate comes back in an attempt to get you back after what happened prior to your breakup

warnings: some language, nate being nate (obvi)

word count: 3,858

a/n: based of the song ‘dead’ by madison beer and is a part 2 to my previous fic linked here. please check that out before you read! if any of you would like to send in requests, please do! they are open, and honestly, i write for a lot of characters. i have plenty of more fics in the works hihi and if you wanna be tagged, lemme know :) i’m also vv sorry this took so long lmao

You could be here, but you're there

You could be anywhere and these days I don't even care no more

You only be showing me love whenever you've had too much

Whatever's been filling your cup, no more

 A part of you thought that Nate would have attempted to correct his wrongdoings by now. Come crawling back from the pit he's made for himself, but it seems he's everywhere but at that point. Usually, any other time he made a mess of himself, sparked some sort of fight or unneeded drama between the two of you, he'd come back, all doting and soft-spoken. Not this time, it seems. The affection would only last so long before something else appeared. Whether it was rumors of him cheating, getting into another altercation with someone at school or a party, or he felt the need to start harboring bad feelings towards you for whatever the reason was at the given time. 

Nathaniel Jacobs seemed to have found another recent victim last you heard. He showed up to school, coincidentally on a day while you were on vacation with your family, with his hand resting gently on the small of her back. You knew of the girl. She was one of the kinds of girls that never really showed up to parties, never drank, and pushed any form of drug away like it was out to get her. Props to her, you figured, because it did sometimes seem as if drugs and alcohol and all those fine things in life that seemed to make it a little more bearable, were actually out to get you. It didn't matter who you were, they didn't exclude anybody. They'd start you off by making you feel that exciting little buzz, like a first kiss or getting a little handsy with that certain person, and your head would spin. They'd convince you that you're not addicted, that you could never possibly be addicted to such a thing because you had a mentality of pure unaltered steel, saying that you didn't need them. But you'd miss that excitement you felt. That tingling that made you feel so happy yet so calm all at the same time. It was a rare feeling, one you could only find in certain people and things, but one of those things was drugs. You had seen plenty of times what they did to people. But you weren't that much of a saint either. You had dabbled in those kinds of things on more than one occasion, after all, Nate was the center of any attention at a party and usually, he'd use that to flaunt how fucked up he got on the subject at hand. 

As much as a part of you missed him, you were thankful you had more time to yourself. You had more time to spend with your friends, time for yourself, and your family. You thought your mental health would have been fucked up after the fallout, and maybe it was for a little, but you had more opportunities to work on it. You prioritized yourself and for once, you weren't labeled selfish for doing so. With that being said, he still crossed your mind, your path, your line of sight. It wasn't that easy to get rid of him. 

Nathaniel Jacobs could have been compared to that of a parasite. Leeching off of your kindness and wanting to help. You'd realize how toxic he was and all the red flags he would throw up, but he'd do his best to keep you close to him. He wanted a girl that loved him, but one he didn't love. That way it was easier to get things out of her and easy to get over her as soon as things went south. He'd show up with a cute gift or send you a text telling you to be ready in 15-30 minutes and then he'd take you out somewhere nice. You knew cared about you, there was too much of a past for him to just blow past you as if you were nothing. He put up a hell of a good front, though. 

You weren't any better. You made yourself pretty clear you didn't care about him anymore. Why should you? He humiliated you at a very public party and couldn't even fully own up to what he did. He was one of those guys that constantly called himself a man as a means to convince himself and others around him that he was one. But in all honesty, he was a boy who had yet to fully commit to life and the way the world worked. 

Baby, no more showing up when you're not sober

At my front door just to say you're alone tonight

Yeah, tryna fuck me and my mind up

It's a reminder you're a liar and you know I'm right

Nathaniel Jacobs had a habit of coming back when he wasn't wanted. It seemed like no matter how hard you tried to brush him off, he came groveling back; ready to take from you with no intention of ever replenishing how much he took. He'd exhaust you and bury you with his brutish harshness and would ask why you were being such a bitch when trying to defend yourself. You had picked up several bad habits when with him, but you swore he was the worst.  

It was slightly rainy that night. A light drizzle that put you to sleep rather fast. It was at 12:49 in the morning when you awoke from the deep slumber that you were so caught up in. The blanket you remember having wrapped tightly around you to save you from the cold that filled your room due to your air conditioning had ended up hanging halfway off the bed. Your hair was secured tightly in the updo you put it in shortly before falling asleep as a means to keep it from sticking to you. 

It was your phone that rang first. The tune played softly, but loud enough that your mind deemed it important enough to make you wake up. Your eyes squinted at the bright, sudden light. You sighed upon seeing the caller. 'Nate'. You picked up the device hesitantly, the charger still connected. Your left thumb hovered over the screen, which you had dimmed in an attempt to save your eyes a lot of pain and trouble. You bit your lip as you contemplated answering it or not, your dry mouth still evident. You sighed again and your eyelids dropped as you thought better against it. Another confrontation after all this time wasn't something you needed. Your mental health had improved vastly since the breakup, and you were finally getting the peace you knew you deserved. Your back finally hit the soft mattress beneath you once again and your eyes fell shut. It only took about 8 seconds for your phone to start ringing again. Your heart broke a little. A part of it still craved him; longed to reach for the glowing screen next to you. It was enough to make you tear up. You didn't deserve the pain that he left you with. The haunting memories. 

The ringing eventually stopped, and you assumed that maybe he had given up. Perhaps realizing that he had better things he could be off doing or the fact that there was truly no hope left for the two of you; maybe he figured out that you didn't need or want him anymore. 

Your assumption turned out to be wrong. Instead of calling you once more, Nathaniel Jacobs took it upon himself to knock on your door instead. Heavy hits against the wood set in that he really was never going to go away. You'd think for such a large town and so many other girls' houses there are, he could find someone else to bother at such an ungodly time. 

You let out a shaky breath, knowing that you would have to make your way downstairs at some point. He was headstrong and stubborn, and you knew he wasn't going to go away so easily. And the last thing you wanted was your parents making their way down and finding him themselves. 

Your feet pattered softly against the dark-toned floorboards beneath you as you made your way to the foyer. You left the lights off downstairs, the moon letting in enough light for you to see where you were going. Your hand founds its way to the doorknob, but you froze right before opening it. You breathed slowly a few times, trying to brace yourself. It seemed no matter how many times you let the cold air in and out of your lungs, or how many times you told yourself that you could get through this, it was never enough. There would always be that doubt lingering in the back of your mind; like a plague. Settling down its roots and burying itself there. Nowhere else to be, nothing else to do besides break off slivers of the dignity and self-respect you had built back up for yourself. 

Nate heard the clicking of the lock behind him as he stood on your front porch facing the street you lived on. He craned his neck to look over his shoulder and upon seeing it was you who answered, just like he was hoping, his feet turned his body to face you. He didn't say anything at first, words escaping him once seeing you stood in the frame of the doorway, covered in a baggy t-shirt and a pair of shorts. He wanted to reach out and pull you to him, telling you how much he's missed you and the hell he's been in ever since your breakup. He knew he looked rough; the toll was noticeable. But you didn't seem to look any different. Looking closer at you now, he saw that the bags under your eyes had dispersed a little and your hair had gotten longer. 

You stood there, expectantly. Your right eyebrow is half-raised in waiting. He cleared his throat and his eyes suddenly caught sight of his shoes. "Look, if you just came here to waste my time, I'll go right back to bed." Your words stung him a little, but he knew you had every right to be upset. Here he was standing in the rain, upset after a bad day, and worst of all, he had woken you up at an inappropriate time. 

"I'm sorry." Was all he could conjure up. No amount of 'I'm sorry' could make up for how he's treated you, but he figured it was at least a start. 

You sigh and rest your head against the still-open door. "I know, Nate, but..." You pause as your eyes meet his. Your knuckles clench against your thigh and you try to hold back any tears that may threaten to fall. "...But you can't just come back here like, like you are right now, Nate. It's not fair to you. And it sure as hell isn't fair to me." The longer you stood there, the more chance you had to catch on to the smell that drafted off of him. 'He's drunk', you thought bitterly. "Especially when drunk."

"I had a shitty day, Y/n," he mumbles. He was a little embarrassed, he had to admit. He felt stupid as he stood there, soaked, head to toe. He was more than aware that he wasn't completely sober, but at least he was still functional. He was about to continue his sentence, try to explain a little more as to why he was here, but you jumped in before he had a chance. 

"I really am sorry, Nate. But you can't be here right now." You were exhausted, that much was obvious. He was too. You did feel bad, he was in terrible shape, but he didn't have a right to come back to you as if nothing's changed. As if he didn't break you entirely. 

"Please, Y/n. I have nowhere else to go tonight and..."

You shake your head, "No, Nate." His shoulders fell in defeat. "But," You give him a once over, and his eyes stare at you, hopeful. "But I still have some of your clothes here if you wanna change." He sends you a thankful half-smile, grateful for the moment of empathy. You nod your head and step aside, motioning for him to come in. "Just wait here for now. I'm gonna get you a towel to dry off with." 

You pad up the stairs as quietly as you can as to not want to wake your parents or your sister. All three parties would have a heart attack if they found out just who was in the foyer right now. You nudge the bathroom door of the second-floor hallway open and grasp the handle of one of the cabinets that held towels and rags. Gripping the soft blue fabric of the towel you saw first, you slide back out of the room. Before going back downstairs, you make your way into your bedroom and go through your closet to try and find the clothes that you still had after all this time. Finding a sweatshirt and a pair of grey joggers that belonged to him, you grab both articles of clothing and tread down the stairs where you see Nate standing, looking over some of the newer family photos your parents had added to the house. 

Your hand reaches out, and once he notices the towel in his peripherals, he takes it out of your hand. He runs the cotton fabric over the back of his neck and through his hair first, trying to drain as much of the moisture out as he can. You didn't really know what to do next. You felt awkward standing there with him, but you couldn't just leave him to his own devices, either. You point your finger over to the guest bedroom that resided on the first floor. "You can, uh, just change over there." Nate follows your finger and nods silently. He grips the spare change of clothes and throws the now damp towel over his right shoulder. You watch blankly as he walks away and once the door shuts quietly, you run both of your hands over your face. Why you decided to help him, you couldn't quite figure out. He no longer deserved the time and effort you gave him the past few moments. And he had no right to come to you knowing full well that you both were in vulnerable positions; him more than you. It seemed as if he had yet to actually move on, or even make an effort to. There were plenty of other houses he could have shown up to and he would have been way more welcomed than he was with you. Whereas with you, you were getting to the point where you would finally be at peace with what happened. That total awareness and feeling of not caring about him. Not in a spiteful way, but more of you never really thought about him, wouldn't be upset if he was happy with someone else, and you didn't wish bad upon him. The end goal everyone wants after a relationship.

By the time Nate had gotten done drying off and getting dressed, you had been slipping in and out of consciousness on the dining room table. He was half-tempted to just up and leave. Let you fall asleep there and make you wonder if any of it had ever actually happened. But the other part of him thought of the possibility of this ending with the two of you on the path of getting back together again. The latter part won over. 

His fingers swept softly over your shoulder, at first. Then, he added a little more pressure and slowly woke you up. You groaned and did your best to stretch your body out. Taking the position that you did in the chair, even for a short while, still caused your back to ache. Your eyes were squinted at first, but blinking some of the sleep out of them, you looked up at Nate. He was standing only inches from you with the same smirk he carried around almost everywhere. 

"All done?" Your voice was low and a little raspy. You yawned again as you waited for Nate to answer you. 

He cleared his throat and nodded his head. "Yeah."

You motioned your head to the front door, "I think the rain's let up. You should be good going home." You made eye contact with him as you finished your sentence, looking at him expectantly. You wanted to make sure to set boundaries and hoped that he wouldn't make himself desperate enough to try and stay the night with you. 

"Um, I was actually hoping to stay here...tonight."

You closed your eyes, frustrated and exhausted. "No, Nate. Look, helping you out this one time...that's one thing. But there's no way I'm letting it become any more than that. Go. Home."

"Please, Y/N. Just tonight. I'm alone and I don't have anywhere else to go. If you could-"

"I said no, Nate."

You say you can't live without me

So why aren't you dead yet?

Why you still breathing? 

And if you say you can't live without me

Then why aren't you dead yet?

Why do you say that?

"Please..." He begged. His eyes bounced over your face, searching for any empathy, but found none. He thought if anyone would understand, it'd be you. You knew full well of how shitty his home life was, and you had been there for him any other time. Did he want you back? Everyday. There was hardly a time when he wasn't thinking about you and wishing things had turned out different. But he had also learned throughout the breakup that it wasn't fair on you to have to constantly be taking care of him and for him to take advantage of it. He realized how often he took you for granted. He just hated that it took him so long to figure it out. 

You shook your head and attempted to stop yourself from crying. "No. I'm sorry, Nate." You refused to look at him at this point, knowing that you would break, and the tears would fall as soon as you saw him. "Please just go home."

He bit the bottom of his lip and gripped his hair in frustration. "Just tonight. Y/n. That's all I'm asking. You want nothing to do with me afterward? Fine. But I can't...I can't do this without you. I can't live like this. Not without you." Although his voice started out a little loud, it had gradually softened. 

He was looking at you again and noticed how you tried your best not to look at him. Your eyes were stuck on the tabletop in front of you and your fingers were playing with one of the rings that resided on your right hand. You jumped in your seat in shock, when feeling his hand fall on your thigh. He was bent down, on his knees in front of you, staring up at you with the same brown eyes you had fallen in love with when you went out with him for the first time. 

"No, Nate." Your voice had risen to be more stern. "Why do you say shit like that. 'I can't live without you?' That's so pathetic. If you can't live without me, then how the fuck are you still here? Still breathing? Still alive?" Your goal not to be loud enough to wake your family up had flown out the window at this point. You were on the point of yelling and it was only a matter of time before he reciprocated the action. It's just who he was. 

You could hear hushed talking upstairs, a few footsteps, and then you heard your name being called. "What's going on?" Your mother's voice was gentle yet curious. Neither had come downstairs yet, which you decided to take advantage of.

Your eyes flashed with panic for a moment, whilst Nate's were watchful. "Nothing, mom! A friend just needed me for a bit." Your parents must have been satisfied with your answer because you hadn't heard anything back besides their footsteps back to bed. 

"A friend, huh?" Nate has his notorious smirk plastered on his face which you can't help but glare at. You stand up, chair screeching out from under you and Nate backs up a bit to give you some space. 

You scoff at him and shake your head. "You come here and take my generosity for granted, again, and the only takeaway you've gotten from this is the fact that I referred to you as a 'friend' to save your ass, and what, now you think you still have a chance?" You stare at him in bewilderment. You knew he was stubborn, but you think after making it obvious you no longer wanted anything to do with him, he'd pick up on the hint and leave. At this point, it felt useless. And here you are, made a fool, all because you didn't feel like putting up a fight when you were woken up at such an indecent time. 

He didn't say anything back, just stared at his feet in what you hoped was shame, but sincerely doubted that it truly was. His jaw began ticking and you knew it was only a few short minutes before he blew up.

He tried his best to calm the rage that simmered in the pit of his stomach. But as he stood there with you glaring holes into him, the less sorrow he felt and more resentment. He thought coming here with the both of you in somewhat vulnerable states would help repatch the problems that were created; offer a new start and move forward like the two of you had done before. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose and slowed his breathing. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I am. What more do you want me to say?"

You glowered at him. "I don't want you to say anything. And the fact that you had the audacity to ask that is pathetic. As if repeating whatever I told you would make up for all the shit you put me through." You huff and run your tongue over your top teeth. "All I want, is for you to leave, Nate."

Both his jaw and his knuckles clench and he slowly closes the distance between the two of you. His left-hand palms the side of your face but before you can snap at him, he speaks up. "I need you to listen to me, babe," He pauses, and your jaw closes just as quick as it opened. "I am never leaving. I'm not gonna go away and pretend that we never happened." He smirks as he sees a brief moment of fear flash through your eyes. His finger twirls around a loose strand of hair and he continues, voice low and dangerous.  "Me and you? We're fucking endgame."

tagged: @scenesofobx @casualcloddeputyherring @x-lulu @clearriverra 

#nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs imagine #imagine #euphoria #euphoria imagine #euphoria fic #euphoria x reader #jacob elordi imagine #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi

[prismartist]

the thing is, guillermo's main motivation is not just to become a vampire. it hasn't been for a while. if that were the case, he would've left and served another vampire a long time ago––which he actually did in season 2 with celeste. the only reason that didn't go through is because it turned out she wasn't a vampire.

(by the way, it's not a plothole that nandor let guillermo go off to be turned by celeste even though being turned by someone than your master is bad. guillermo renounced nandor as a master as per celeste's conditions, so at that point she was his master, not nandor)

becoming a vampire is definitely the thing that drives a good amount of his decisions, yes, but it's not the only one that does. the desire to be a vampire is accompanied––and i'd even say overrode––by a desire to be family.

season 2 guillermo was very fickle. his vampire slayer lineage conflicted with his desire to be a vampire, and at the same time you cannot convince me that he didn't contemplate murdering the others several times. s2 guillermo was willing to drop the gang if it meant an easier way to become a vampire.

but i don't think the same could be said of season 5 guillermo. at this point he had made peace between his nature and his want, having used his vampire slaying skills to protect his masters. he had grown even closer to the vampires, and while i wouldn't say he never cared for them, that care has grown enough so that he hasn't attempted to properly leave since the end of season 2.

and more importantly, the other vampires had become closer to him. as he grew to see them as family, they had grown see him as such too. guillermo knows his worth, and his love for them would have only persisted if they also––slowly but surely––showed their love for him. otherwise, he hits the bricks, or tries to; the one time he tries to leave since s2 is at the start of s4, when they left him in a crate for weeks.

what nadja said to him in the motel comes to mind: "at first, i was just using [the little antipaxons] to get rid of my hex. but then it turned out... i really like hanging out with those guys."

guillermo started serving the vampires to become a vampire. but over time, instead of merely being his masters, they became his family. sticking with them became less and less about becoming a vampire, and more and more about being with loved ones.

he voices his regret to ask derek to bite him. "i really don't want to die," he says about nandor hunting him down, "but i'm more afraid of losing the vampires."

i think it's possible he continued to pursue vampirism if only to obtain this newer desire. but even so, vampirism ultimately didn't do anything for guillermo in the grander scheme of things.

guillermo wants to be fully accepted. he wants to be part of the team, an equal. not pushed away or dismissed. he's worried less about this recently, but judging by his looks during the guide's rant about being excluded, he still had his doubts. perhaps being a vampire would achieve that. but it didn't!

when the vampires came to say goodbye at the motel, they didn't do so because they respected him as a vampire. in fact, when they first found out, they just responded with astonishment (laszlo) anger (nadja) or indifference (colin, the guide). and even if he were turned by nandor, i still doubt they would've outwardly respected him.

no, the vampires each went one by one to say goodbye to guillermo because he was already part of the family. all this time, over the years, they saw guillermo as someone worth valuing, because he valued them. they just didn't show it, as vampires do. it had nothing to do with being a vampire. and even after the full transformation, they went back to putting on an indifferent and uncaring facade. being a vampire has no effect over the vampires' feelings towards guillermo.

in the end, vampirism didn't do guillermo any good. he had all he could ever need and want... as a human. except being a vampire. of course. but as a vampire the vampires didn't treat him differently, and if anything he's further excluded because he's too hesitant to kill. at least as a human, it's a given that he's an outsider. it's worse when you're supposed to be the same and you still end up too different

so in the end, it wasn't worth it. and guillermo chooses humanity once more.

do i wish we could've seen more of vamp guillermo, and definitely more of him building up to make that decision to turn back? yes. honestly most of my issue with the finale is the pacing; the latter half seemed like a separate episode on its own, and i kinda felt it needed to be a whole episode in order to stick the landing better. (can we bring back longer seasons please. even just a tiny bit longer, like 12 episodes :() but overall i am greatly fascinated with guillermo's journey, i am so in love with it, and i am looking forward to how he's going to grapple with the changes he went through this season :DD

#obligatory prism long ass essay babyyyyyyyyyy #wwdits #wwdits s5 #wwdits season 5 #what we do in the shadows #wwdits spoilers #wwdits s5 spoilers #unintelligible rants

[otdderamin]

Fiction C2 Post-Campaign Essek’s Mobility Aid

I appreciate that Matt didn’t want to make Essek disabled and fall into the disabled villain trope, but as a disabled person I love the idea that Essek’s floating is a disability aid and that ableism played a role in isolating him and pushing him into over-achieving at all costs. Essek’s such a complex character, I don’t think he falls into simple tropes like that.

Story

After Essek goes on the lam, he often has to walk without magic. He was partly lying about floating being a trick he got stuck with as an expectation. It was also that, but the real reason he learned to do it was the debilitating joint pain he developed in early adolescence. Having to walk again rapidly exacerbates it again, with an extra century of age on top.

He tries to keep it to himself since he was accused of faking it as a kid, punished for it, pushed harder, or excluded for not keeping up. Especially compared to his athletic brother. The doubt in his overall ability was one of the things that had pushed him so hard to prove himself at every turn, and ultimately led him to some really awful behavior he didn’t want to return to. But eventually, it becomes so debilitating he can't hide it. At least not from Caleb.

He'd get to Caleb’s house and more than anything just need to sit down and rest. The pain was cascading into general nerve pain that made all touch into an over-stimulated agony. A silent internal war from nerves that want no sensation, and a heart that wanted the soothing grounding of being held by this man who somehow loves him so deeply. But the pain in his face and the flinching he can’t stop eventually give him away.

Caleb is gentle with him and understanding. He opens up about the torture Trent put him through with the embedded residuum. Going to class with long sleeves pretending to be fine when he could barely hold a pen. Sometimes the scars still have a stabbing ache. How lonely it was when touch of the only people who knew and cared was too much. They talk about inadequate pain scales. There is comfort in that shared understanding.

They brainstorm what Essek could do. On the road alone he can still float. It's cities that are the problem. For his safety he already tries to stick to solitary remote research but supplies and contacts are always needed. They consider different mobility devices. Essek's only hesitation is that the ones that meet his needs would be expensive, custom, and distinctive, making them more identifiable even as he changes disguises and personas and could give him away. The same reasons why he's had to give up the sleek and fashionable clothes he loves for plainer ones people don't notice.

That leads them to the idea of modifying Essek's floating magic to essentially function like a series of braces. He could still look like he's walking without aid, but the magic would take the actual weight off his joints. It proves trickier than just floating, with more concentration and more exhaustion, but it’s harder to detect and easier to disguise to keep his cover. It’s harder to keep his balance this way and does find a plain cane makes it much easier, even if it rarely supports his weight to protect his arms.

Caleb asks for Essek's help with a second kind of slower cover. Now that he knows the floating was a mobility aid, can Essek teach it to him so that Caleb can teach it to his disabled students and others in the community? It could help many of them with quality of life (especially the Academy's inaccessible buildings). And over time if they teach the technique and encourage it to be retaught, it will be less unique and identifiable. One day it will be safe for Essek to float in public again, and he'll get his best mobility tool back.

Slowly things get easier. Essek is able to travel more easily again with fewer bad pain days and come back to the house of green beans without wanting to collapse. The brace magic gets easier for him to manage over time. It’s still a little easier to use a cane, but he can forego it for short periods if he needs the extra stealth. Caleb and Essek teach both the floating and the bracing and find each works for different disabilities and injuries better. It takes some decades for it to be widespread, but his floating technique is eventually widespread enough as a mobility tool that it’s safe to use. While he still prefers floating, he uses both with different personas to throw off the trail.

Every time he comes across another disabled person using this magic he developed in his room, alone in pain and trying to hide through an impressive trick, and now commonplace, it’s a reminder that for all the lives he hurt causing the war, there are now many others his magic has helped to live fuller more accessible lives. And that is a great comfort through the rest of his life.

#critical role #critical role fanfiction #Essek Thelyss #Caleb Widogast #Shadowgast #Disability #Disability Fanfiction #fanfiction #critical role C2 post-campaign

[princeescaluswords]

I can't get this post out of my head.

There's a reason that every time I see someone argue "well, the answer is to curate your own experiences!" I have to shake my head, because they are always, always, always missing the point.

There's a writer that I stumbled across over a year ago who tends to write what others might call dark fiction but I call exploitative fiction. In this writing, they make it a point to have Peter and Stiles (sometimes with other accomplices) murder Scott McCall and/or Alan Deaton. Sometimes there is humiliation or degradation involved. I've never seen any story where the victims are capable of defending themselves, let alone a serious threat. This writer has written this particular scenario dozens and dozens of times within a very narrow range of scenarios. It's obvious that the point of these stories isn't exploring dark themes. It's obviously revenge porn generated because a television show did not make the white male serial killer the main character.

I can say this because the victims of these stories are always Scott McCall and Alan Deaton, though recently they've expanded to include Melissa McCall, because of the way they treated the Hale Pack, by which they mean Peter Hale. It's revenge for denying Peter his legacy, rejecting his philosophy of killing your enemies, or refusing to submit. Though strangely, I've never encountered any stories where Peter and Stiles murder Derek for stealing the alpha power from Peter, they never humiliate the Sheriff or Parrish before slaughtering them for objecting to Peter's murder spree, and they never degrade Isaac before killing him for abandoning the Hale Pack.

Of course, these stories are never tagged appropriately; I didn't seek them out. I finally had to get in the habit of excluding that particular author specifically when searching for Teen Wolf fanfiction, because they come out with a story once a week. Their works are very popular; I won't include the name here, but I will share it in DMs if you want. The worst part is the subject isn't really unique; hundreds of other writers do the same thing of punishing characters for not bowing to white men. What's unique about this author is their volume and their attitude: they have a habit of putting a note a the end of their stories: "I write for stress relief, so I won't take criticism." Oh, is that why you write racist, pornographic violence?

The answer from many well-meaning people is "curate your own experiences!" In other words, let this writer and their followers have their own little corner of the internet and concentrate on avoiding them, which is possible, though it is easier said than done. But this admonition strikes me as galling in its tone deafness every time.

Why do I think this? Let's perform a thought experiment:

You walk into an auditorium to talk about something you love with 100 strangers you don't know and who don't know you. One person stands up and says "My life is filled with stress, so in order to cope, I repeatedly imagine black and brown people being murdered." You would probably try to move your chair a little further away from them, wouldn't you? But that's not the worst part. The worst part is that 92 other people start clapping for them. They appreciate having this content available. You become upset, because you find this behavior repulsive. (Everyone should find it repulsive). When you act in response, some positive soul turns to you and says "You could just have not come in here!" or "You could just leave!"

No one is stopping you from leaving and never coming back, but that wouldn't erase the fact that you know that there's a person out there who loves to imagine brown and black characters being killed in order to feel better about themselves, and there there are people who celebrate this person and reward them with their time and attention. All the "curating experience" won't erase the fact that this person is out there, still writing these stories, still finding 'relief' in writing a wrong because a television show decided that in this instance, a Latino teenager would be the good guy and the rich white male serial-killing con artist would be the bad guy.

I don't see how it could, and I'm going to say so.

#fandom racism #teen wolf fandom racism #fandom problems #fanfiction problems

[davekat-sucks]

Wow amazing art but this is strike one. Yiffy was the inevitable failure of postcanon, even with the new union and art team, her very existence ruins Rosemary, ruins Jade, ruins the setting and pisses off the fanbase no matter what you do.

Remove Yiffany and you retcon a major plot point of postcanon and the 4th kid for the new kids for the Candy timeline, keep her in and Jade is still a futanari who imposed herself on Rose to ruin the fanbase’s favorite lesbian couple and raise the kid with a fascist because… people on Earth C are too nosy.

Yiffany destroyed all hype for the original Homestuck^2 when she was revealed, even for as mediocre as the comic started out as, there were fans and speculation, which turned to spite for being so poorly handled. Even now with the new team, r/homestuck at least seems to enjoy the new content (excluding a few voices and r/englishpumpkinparty) but clearly any content with yiffany is gonna piss someone off.

Literally if Hussie just stopped at the epilogues the fandom would like postcanon more. It would have its detractor but it’s easier to defend the epilogues than Beyond Canon.

I can actually understand and connect why Jade and Jane became the way they are in the epilogues. Jane’s encounters with trolls were awful and the mothergrub does lay thousands of eggs to deal with such a low rate of successful brooding grubs. Jade was alone on her island and in a ship for 3 years (post retcon) and needs human connection desperately. My issue was the epilogues do a very one-dimensional and extreme version of these characters and justifies this by saying “no one checked in on them or helped” over the course of a 7 year timeskip and even after the characters did a whole webcomic where the point was friendship and connection is healthy for a human to develop emotionally to maturity, are we seriously doing this theme again?!

But Jane in Beyond Canon is a villain with barely any screen time or dialogue to ramble about why she’s “doing the right thing” and Jade is stripped of any nuance to this invasive and careless brat who tries to gain sympathy by whining about how much her life sucked/still sucks

I swear, this comic will go on hiatus again by the end of 2024 (if everything goes right) or on 4/13 (if it all goes wrong)

At least Jade was justified because 1. She didn't know how Grandpa English died and only came to the shocking realization she accidentally killed him (Tavros had also intervened too during this). 2. She had to grow up alone on an ISLAND and has no social cues how to properly act. Sure she would have Internet, movies, games, and books to read. But they aren't the true basis of human connection. 3. Neither Hussie, James, or anyone in WhatPumpkin/HICU had given a reason why Bec couldn't just teleport her to meet with the others since he still had Space Powers. Some could say because it would ruin the plot and Sburb wouldn't happen that it only took the meddling of MSPA READER in Pesterquest to do it. Her situation is just as shit like Jake English. And look how the series, writers, and nu-fandom shit on Jake despite his conditions is just the same, if not WORSE because of the lusus animals trying to attack him that he had always be training to survive for his life. At this point, drop any faith you have in James Roach and Beyond Canon. Apologize. And hope that this will fail hard that James and Hussie will just let the fandom make up their own ending. Even say DO NOT GIVE James Roach any money if they do go through with the Homestuck merch and vinyl. You are better off supporting the fandom itself. Pay for commissions, buy fan merch on places like Etsy, etc. Do not give shitty people like James or Hussie any cash. Go give Toby Fox some love too. Because he is one of the few sane people left and is successful outside of Homestuck.

#James Roach #Homestuck Independent Creative Union #HICU #Homestuck Beyond Canon #HSBC #Homestuck 2 #HS2 #HS^2 #Homestuck2 #Homestuck^2 #Jade Harley #Kanaya Maryam #Rose Lalonde #RoseJade #Rosenaya #Rosemary #Jake English #Pesterquest