#Anti professor snap

[wierdshenanigans]

Rveryone, repeat after me:

A tragic backstory is NOT a REDEMPTION ARC

#ya books #fanfic #anti severus snape #anti snape #anti snily #hp #harry potter #harry potter fandom #hp fandom #marauders #Anti professor snap

[willowser]

i have been in the anti-gojo coalition server for one (1) hour and this is what it has done to me. nerd gojo. EDIT TO SAY: OH MY GOD PHYSICS PROF GOJO !!

the physics professor grades papers in the campus library. way too late.

you're only there until nine, but gojo satoru always comes strolling through the doors sometime after seven with his book bag and sleek laptop, looking entirely too excited to care about quantum field theory. you suppose he always looks like that, though, especially in his classroom, in front of a whiteboard while droning on and on about infinities.

almost immediately after he sits down, he covers the entire surface of the table closest to the front (closest to you) with his belongings; blue and red sharpies, coffee from the shop around the corner, stacks upon stacks of paper. he even hums to himself — in a library — like he's just having the darndest time taking up all of yours.

it would be a lie to say it isn't amusing, though, even on nights like tonight. outside it's storming, albeit quietly, and the day has taken all it could from you; watching him with sleepy eyes as he mutters to himself is — cute, no matter how late it's getting.

"i have a question, professor,"

you're the only two left in the library at such an hour, but he still looks up with raised eyebrows, as if you could be talking to someone else. his grin spreads across his face slowly once he realizes, like a balm.

"and i have an answer."

you snort, tired and amused, when he wiggles his eyebrows. "is it possible for hours to sneak into the day? because it really feels like it's been more than eight today."

"hmm," he makes a show of thinking, tapping his pen against his pursed lips as if he really has to. you know he's full of it, though, because he's only twenty-eight and has more accolades than some of the oldest instructors. "each hour of the day corresponds to a specific duration based on earth's rotation and its orbital motion around the sun." he shrugs, smile dropping the more serious he gets, and — you kind of wish you wouldn't have asked, because you're too tired for this. "time dilation is a thing, but that's more...changes in the perception of time because of differences in realtive—"

gojo suddenly stops, and you can see the quick cut of his eyes over his glasses as he looks at you. when you raise a single eyebrow at him, he sticks out his tongue and blows a long raspberry, before turning to hunch back over his laptop.

"uh," he lets out a quick laugh and taps his pen against his forehead, a little aggressively. "short answer, no!"

and — you're sleepy. tired. the mascara you'd put on today is almost all dried out and flaking off underneath your eyes, you can hear the comfort of some sweatpants and your bed calling your name, but — gojo fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck, angling his head away from you. embarrassed, maybe.

despite the heaviness to your eyes and the 9: 02 PM that shines in the corner of your computer screen, you ask,

"well, what's the long answer?"

his head snaps up to you again, but he doesn't respond, only watches with parted lips; the smartest man you've ever met needing a hint.

you glance towards the windows, the dark storm beyond them, before sending him a smile that spreads to his own face. "i think we might be here a while with the rain, if you wanna tell me."

he shakes his head at you and lightly clicks his tongue against his teeth, almost like he's disappointed, before reaching into his bag to pull out an umbrella. "should have checked the radar! though i'm happy to share, if you'd like." and despite how much of a dork you think he is, the little wink he sends you over his glasses has your tummy flipping.

but he's still — not getting it.

"satoru," you say, quietly, shaking your head when his playful expression drops and his cheeks turn a little rosy under the fluorescence. "sit here with me and tell me all about time, would you?"

you can see the gears turning in his big, fat brain, and another laugh slips out of him, light and yet full of nerves. after a moment, he runs a hand over his face, takes his glasses off to rub at his eyes, like he's tired, too.

but then he's blinking at you, excited, and you wonder if his eyes have always been so bright.

"well, time is a fundamental dimension in the universe..."

#i hate it here #this is all erika's doing akfbdiakal #WAAAHHH admittedly SO insecure about my characterization of him !!!! the slippery little brat !!!! #he's such a DORK I HATE HIM #i wanna PUT HIM IN A HEADLOCK #yeah i 100% used google to talk about this subject yeah absolutely #every time i write that tag a piece of my sanity chips away #also if it wasn’t clear enough reader is meant to be a coworker and not a student #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: gojo

[once-upon-an-imagine]

heyy ok so I have this idea with maybe remus lupin or any smart character but your the writer whatever you think best is probably best, anyways so reader is failing a class and is assigned a tutor which would be the character. Anyways character is very in love with the reader and is nervous/flustered  but the reader is more outgoing/flirtyafter a couple lessons at the end the character asked “anymore questions?” And the reader goes “yeah when are you going to ask me out? ”KINDA CRINGE LOOKING BACK BUT TYSM BYE 💜💜💜💜

- submitted by @they-only-want-you-when-your-17

--------

this is sooo cute! I loved it too much, love! I hope you like it too! 😊Warnings: none, this is pure fluffDisclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter 😊 gif isn’t mine 😊

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Ask Me Out?

You hated Potions. Not just because it was your earliest class and you weren’t a morning person. But because you were absolutely dreadful at it. You insisted it wasn’t your fault. It was your partner’s. When Professor Slughorn decided to make Remus Lupin your partner, you knew it would be useless. 

You were never able to concentrate with him sitting next to you. Maybe it was because he started wearing his hair differently this year. Or because he smelled stupidly good. Or how shy he got whenever he was around you. Or because he had the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. Or because his friends and your friends kept making stupid faces at you so you would make the first move. 

Things got so bad, that Professor Slughorn suggested you got someone to tutor you for this class, and, much to your luck, Remus had volunteered himself to be said tutor. So, not only did you have to control yourself in his class, but now you were spending two afternoons a week with Remus at the Library or the Common Room, trying to listen to what he actually said, instead of getting lost in his beautiful smile. 

“Are you listening to me?” Remus asked, suddenly snapping you out of your thoughts. 

“I uh-” you said, sitting straight instead of resting your head on your hand. “Y-yes, of course, I was, Rem” you cleared your throat. 

“Really?” Remus asked with a beautiful smirk. “Then what is the last ingredient you have to add to the Draught of Living Death before you stir it anti-clockwise?” 

“Oh, uh- w-well, the um… the bean?” you tried with a small smile. 

“Which bean?” 

“I’m guessing not Bertie Bott’s beans?” 

“No” he laughed adorably. “The Sopophorous Bean-”

“Sopophorous Bean” you quickly repeated. “See? That was my second guess!” you insisted and Remus glared at you a little. “I’m sorry, Remus” you sighed. “I know you probably have better things to do with your time than being stuck here trying to teach the unteachable” you laughed. 

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself” he said, his look softening. “You’re not unteachable. You’re doing a lot better now” he encouraged you. 

“Well, to be fair, it’s way more pleasant to look at you and listen to you than to Professor Slughorn” you said, loving the way his cheeks blushed a little. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment” he chuckled. 

“It was” you said, resting your head on your hand again and smiling at him. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Uh, sure” he said, looking through his book. 

“Why did you volunteer to tutor me?” you asked, interested. 

“W-what do you mean?” he asked, nervously. “I mean, you needed help-”

“Well, yes, but I think everyone else would have run for the hills if they had to spend some time with me with fire and so many things that explode around” you shrugged. 

“You’re not that bad” he laughed a little. 

“Remus, I’ve burned more cauldrons than James and Sirius together” you reminded him. 

“W-well, that may be true, but you’re really trying” he reminded you. “So, I’m happy to help as much as I can” he said with a small smile. 

“Well, that’s very sweet of you, Rem” you said, making him look away. “I’m sorry, does it bother you when I call you that? I heard you telling Sirius once you didn’t like it-”

“N-no!” he replied quickly. The only reason he didn’t like Sirius calling him that, was because he did it mocking you. “I don’t mind when uh- when you call me that” he muttered nervously. “Sirius is… just an idiot” he said. 

“Oh” you smiled. “Well, okay” you told him, sitting a little closer to him. 

“Okay, so I think that’s it for today” he said, closing his book before turning to you again. “Anymore questions?” 

“Yeah, just one” you said and Remus nodded for you to go on. “When are you going to ask me out?”

“Uh- w-what-? Um- I’m sorry?” 

“Well, I was just… wondering if you were planning on ever asking me out?” you told him. 

“Y-you want me to ask you out?” 

“If you’d like” you smirked. 

“Well, I um- I would like that, very much” he smiled. 

“Really?” you asked, excitedly. 

“Y-yeah, the only reason why I haven’t asked you is because, I wasn’t sure if y-you’d want me to” he said. “So, um… would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend? We can celebrate your ‘O’ on tomorrow’s exam” he said. 

“I would love to go to Hogsmeade with you, Rem” you smiled. “But, I think you’re shooting for the stars, thinking I’ll get an ‘O’, I’ll be lucky if I get an ‘A’” you told him.

“We’ll see” he smiled. 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“REMUS!” 

Remus looked up from the book he was reading and he saw you run down the hallway at full speed, causing you to trip and fall but you quickly got back up, and composed yourself, ignoring the laughter and stares from everyone as you made your way to where he was standing with his friends. 

“Are you okay, love?” Remus asked as soon as you reached them

“I’m fine- uh- d-did you just call me love?” you asked with a big smile on your face and feeling your heart flutter at the blush appearing on Remus’ cheeks. 

“I uh- is that okay?” 

“Yes, it is” you nodded happily. 

“Uh, are you okay?” James asked. 

“Yeah, that was a nasty fall” Sirius said, as he tried no to laugh. 

“Oh, I’m fine” you assured them as you tried to compose yourself. 

“You’re bleeding” Peter stated. 

“I am?” you asked, looking at your knee. “Oh, well, whatever is not that bad! Guess what?” you asked excitedly turning back to Remus. “I GOT AN ‘E’!” you said, showing him the parchment in your hands. 

“You got an ‘E’?” he asked, excitedly. 

“In Potions?” Sirius asked, grabbing the exam from you and looking through it.  

“I GOT AN ‘E’” you repeated wrapping your arms around his shoulders before you planted a big kiss on his lips. Remus was surprised for a second but he quickly wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“I’m really proud of you, love” Remus said, leaning in for another kiss. 

“Ew, get a room!” you heard Sirius yell when you pulled away and you noticed the blush on Remus’ cheeks was back. 

“Fuck off, Black!” 

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: I hope you loves like it! :D 

#submission #submitted by they-only-want-you-when-your-17 #marauders #marauders imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin drabble

[fluentmoviequoter]

Hey!! For blurb day can I please request Dalton calling reader a pet name for the first time 🤍

Thank you and I’m so excited to read everything else!!

I love this idea so much!!! Thank you for the first blurb request! I hope you like it; let me know what you think!

Warnings: just fluff :) 0.5k+ words.

A/N: This is sort of inspired by Jason Aldean's song "When She Says Baby."

"Hey, handsome," you say as you enter Dalton's dorm.

Since you labeled your relationship a few weeks ago, you've called Dalton just about everything except his name. He isn't equally inclined to pet names, or so you think.

"That looks amazing," you praise, looking over his shoulder to see his new painting.

Dalton sets his paintbrush aside, turning in his seat to wrap his arms around your waist.

"Recognize the tree?" he asks.

"Is that where we had our first kiss?"

Dalton nods, and you lean down to kiss his forehead.

"I'm thinking of adding a silhouette of us, what do you think?" Dalton asks, smiling in response to your affection.

"Anything you paint would be perfect. It always is."

Dalton lowers his arms, and you step back, sitting at the edge of his bed.

"We were going to go to dinner, right?" you ask, watching the back of his head move up and down. "Could we postpone? I'm exhausted."

"Of course. Everything alright?" Dalton stands and moves to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"Yeah, it's just been a crazy week. All of my professors are out to kill me," you complain, leaning into his chest.

"I see," Dalton says, swallowing a laugh at your dramatics. "Consider dinner postponed. Want to watch a movie?"

"Can I stay right here?"

"Wouldn't let you move if you fought me," Dalton responds.

Grabbing his laptop, Dalton lets you pick the movie, holding you as it plays. Dalton feels you getting heavier against his chest and leans forward, smiling at your closed eyes.

"You look beautiful when you're exhausted, baby," Dalton whispers, brushing his fingers across your cheekbone.

Your eyes snap open, and you twist to look at Dalton as you ask, "What did you call me?"

Dalton clears his throat, a hand raising to rub his neck. "I called you baby. Is that a problem?"

"Say it again," you whisper, leaning closer to him.

"I love you, baby."

You smile so hard it hurts your cheeks before grabbing his shirt and kissing him. Out of breath, you pull back and continue smiling at him.

"What took you so long? I thought you were anti-pet name," you whine playfully.

"Have you been trying to bait me with all of your pet names?" Dalton asks, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"No. You just needed to be called handsome and sweetheart, and I've been considering trying 'honey.' Have any thoughts on that?"

"Call me whatever you want, gorgeous," he murmurs, blushing as he tries to hide his face.

You gasp and grab his face, feeling the warmth spreading under your cheeks. He laughs and kisses your hand as he turns his head.

"I would have done it earlier if I knew this was the result," he says.

"Your timing is perfect. And I love you; I didn't say it back before," you respond.

"You don't seem very tired anymore," Dalton points out, running a hand up and down your side.

"You called me baby and gorgeous. That's more powerful than any caffeine I've ever had."

"Now you know how I feel, baby."

#dalton lambert #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #insidious #insidious the red door #blurb

[il-predestinato]

I thought of Christian being a defense against the dark arts guy... There's no way he's teaching Charms 😂

Yes! DADA was my first thought too. I briefly thought maybe Transfiguration and then he can have a fierce rivalry with Divination's Professor Wolff (he honestly talks about W14 like it's worse than the Grim). 🤣

Lestappen blurb time (aka. how I coped while watching Ferrari during FP3):

"We need to talk," hissed Max as he slid into the empty seat next to his target. He slammed the piece of parchment down in front of Charles, who blinked lazily at his irate tone. "About you hogging the Quidditch pitch."

Charles sniffed and peered down at the tiny writing on the parchment: 'I, Professor Vasseur, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice before class from Wednesday to Friday, owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'

The Slytherin Quidditch captain gave him an indifferent shrug. "Perhaps you would like to take it up with Professor Vasseur."

Max glared at him. "That's three out of five weekdays!"

Vasseur may wear a jolly little smile, but the Potions Master was a die-hard Slytherin at heart and Charles knew it.

"With your math skills, no wonder you're so good at Arithmancy." Charles beamed at him, ignoring the twitch in Max's jaw.

"The rest of us need to practice too," he snapped.

"Then book the pitch early, Captain." Charles rolled his eyes, as he flipped open his copy of Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts.

Max groaned.

"What now?"

"I left my textbook in the Prefects' bathroom."

Charles wiggled a single eyebrow at him.

"Don't start -" warned Max.

"I wasn't going to say -"

"On top of your bathrobe."

It was Charles' turn to groan, but he still begrudgingly pushed his own book towards the centre of the table so they could share. "Max, I swear people are going to find out -"

"Well, that would be a damn shame, wouldn't it?" grumbled Max, nudging the textbook closer to himself, only stopping when Charles rapped his knuckles with a sharp tap of his wand. "Daily Prophet headline: Fierce Quidditch rivals caught sucking face in Prefects' - OW!" The pointy end of Charles' wand found his sternum, singeing the edge of his Gryffindor house tie.

Max turned to glare at him, but suddenly found every eye in the classroom trained on him.

Their instructor crossed his arms. "Anything you'd like to share with the class, Max?"

"No, Professor Horner," he mumbled, still glaring at Charles who was doing his best to hide a smirk.

The Head of Gryffindor House frowned at his student. "Then perhaps you would like to demonstrate the progress you've made on the Patronus Charm." Christian gestured for him to stand.

Max straightened his tie (making a mental note that Charles owes him a new one) and took a step into the aisle.

"Make sure it's a powerful memory," emphasized Christian. "The most positive one you can summon."

Max couldn't help but spare a sideways glance at Charles. He smiled. "Last May, " he whispered to Charles, "me holding the Quidditch Cup in front of your face."

Charles' hand twitched dangerously around his wand, but he refrained from cursing Max, clearly preferring not to spend those hard-earned Quidditch practice hours in detention with Professor Horner instead.

Max raised his wand. He had fully intended to summon the memory he had described to Charles - but a clearer, brighter, more recent memory came to his mind unbidden:

The two of them. Five hours ago. After placing an Anti-Alohomora Charm on the door to the Prefects' bathroom. Charles laughed after some of the soapy water splashed into Max's eyes. The joke was on him though after Max leaned in to kiss him - an effective distraction - and then unloaded a handful of colourful bubbles right between Charles' parted lips. His Slytherin rival had sputtered, batting away the offending green soap bubbles (the colour really did match his eyes) and lunged at Max -

"Expecto Patronum!"

A silver lion burst forth from the tip of Max's wand and roared, drawing impressed gasps from their fellow fifth years. His Patronus then pounced across the length of the classroom to the sound of scattered applause.

"Well done!" praised Christian, who looked more than a little impressed, a rare admittance from their usually unbothered Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. "A fully corporeal Patronus is beyond even N.E.W.T. level. Twenty points to Gryffindor."

Max sauntered back to his seat, but not before shooting Charles a smug grin. Almost on cue, his Patronus made a beeline for Charles, circling twice around him before shaking its mane playfully in front of the Slytherin. Charles rolled his eyes but petted one of its giant paws - as much as one could pet a non-solid entity. The lion purred in response before making a final leap out the window and out of sight.

Charles shrugged, but his lips quivered to suppress a smile; the dimples gave him away. "Not as impressive as mine," he whispered.

The warmth from his breath lingered against Max's cheek.

Max cleared his throat, turning away to regain some composure. "My lion is bigger than your horse," he sniped back.

"It's a thestral, not a horse!" corrected Charles indignantly.

-

FYI @cupidskissx @alestire @strawberryfieldsandflowers and anyone else I have rambled to recently about Hogwarts Lestappen, Crucio is permissible in dire situations 🙃, but it's never morally appropriate to hog the Prefects' bathroom. I have standards, you know.

#lestappen #* #my fic #elle.txt #elle.ask #anon #hey christian - so slytherin is about to win the house cup - #christian: TWENTY THOUSAND POINTS TO MAX I MEAN GRYFFINDOR #slytherin!charles #gryffindor!max #patronus charm

[irenespring]

Rewatching both House and ER and I have been thinking about why I find House to be a far more sympathetic character than Robert Romano.

To be clear: I know House's behavior is horrible. He should have been fired. There is no moral justification for his actions. However, as my favorite history professor constantly says: "context is not justification."

Words vs. deeds: House says a lot of terrible things, but his actions paint a different picture. He says antisemitic nonsense, but it never alters his attitudes towards Taub, Wilson, and Cuddy. He says he will sexually harass Cameron and Chase, and definitely does sexually harass Cuddy--but he never touches them without permission, and doesn't want to date an employee even when Cameron really wants to date him. Romano, on the hand, engages in verbal sexual harassment, and then does act on it. He tries to get Elizabeth deported because she won't sleep with him. He tries to get any out lesbian fired.

Backstory: House is the main character of the show titled House. As such, though we don't learn a lot about him, we are provided insights into his past. A big part of helping viewers empathize with a character is helping them understand why he is like this. You get a sense of House's tragic backstory, and how that backstory forged him into the kind of person he is. Romano, on the hand, is never fully expanded on. All we really know about him is that he has a good relationship with his mother. There isn't enough data to understand, and thus connect, with his overall character. He was intended to be a villain, rather than an anti-hero.

Self-reflection: House is a terrible person, and he knows it. He hates it. When he talks about the world with patients (I've noticed this particularly in season 1) he sounds really fucking sad. He wants the world to be better, he wants to be better, but this is how the world works and therefore he can only present himself one way and stay safe. This self-knowledge makes him a more conflicted character, and shows he has empathy. He wants to change, but doesn't think he can. On the other hand, Romano is deeply arrogant, not superficially arrogant. He thinks he's the shit. He truly believes he is the world's greatest man and entitled to act however he wants to the "little people" as he calls them. This removes a certain depth from his character.

Show tone: House is a show about terrible people. Everyone is crazy in their own unique ways. The show is about looking at the good in those terrible people. In order to enjoy the show, you have to stop yourself from analyzing the morality of the characters' actions. ER, on the other hand, is at least supposed to be about good people (don't get me started about how the protagonists treat Kerry, and whether that actually makes them good people). People are supposed to be heroic. The characters face deep ethical dilemmas the audience is supposed to consider. This makes Romano's heinous actions stand out and force the viewer to analyze them.

Pain: House is in pain. He is in pain all the fucking time. When people are in pain, they are less patient, more likely to snap. There's a standard view that when people are in a huge amount of pain, they say things they don't mean. They try to hit people where it hurts because of how much they hurt. This doesn't excuse his actions, but does create further separation between House's words and his innate character.

Anyway both ER and House are good shows, but suffer from being from the early 2000s (or mid-late 1990s in ER's case). You should watch them! But yeah, Romano bothers me way more than House, who I think would be an interesting foil for Kerry.

#house md #hatecrimes md #er tv show #er #gregory house #robert romano #character analysis #television analysis #character comparison #This is not to say anyone who likes Romano should feel bad about it #People are allowed to like immoral characters!!! #I know he has a following of people who sometimes find him amusing and that's all good #He definitely has his moments #I always laugh when Dr Greene gets into a fistfight and Romano enters and addresses him with “The lean Greene fighting machine!!!” #I'm just analyzing my personal character feelings

[queenlua]

because of Reasons*, i decided i needed to learn a bunch about Martin Luther, & also the protestant reformation more generally

* it's for fire emblem fanficiton

and i gotta have something to listen to during the ~3hrs a week i spend commuting anyway

thus: i downloaded every random podcast episode i could find with "Martin Luther" in the title

perhaps unsurprisingly, the vast majority of these podcasts are done by various pastors

which means i am fast forming snap judgments about the intellectual/historiographical prowess of the various denominations:

secular (??? didn't name any affiliation, at least) oxford professor chick: loved her. particularly liked when she was talking about Luther with a feminist/gender-y lens. lots of great shit here

non-denominational christian: excellent episode; this pastor's clearly read some books and doesn't talk down to his audience. i enjoyed him so much i went to go check out his online presence and... found a bunch of hysterical anti-trans shit. SIGH. which christian denominations are trans-friendly nowadays anyway. hat-tip to them, if they exist, and otherwise man fuck those guys

baptist: predictably banal, sanitized, not particularly accurate. god these dudes must've fuckin ruled during the Great Awakening but unfortunately nowadays i must categorize them as: Intellectual Lightweights

anyway i'll be updating this post as my silly journey continues

#next up is a presbyterian and then a catholic. hype to hear from them

[thecollectorswife]

How is it like to be married to Asa? HC

Your marriage was a very small one. Just you, him and your direct family members, no one else (If you don't have a family replace them with your best friends)

In your honeymoon you stayed in his family's cabin

Asa is rarely at home. He is either at work or with his collection

He has a coffee addiction

When he is at home he's exhausted (give this man a massage)

He rarely talks of his work (both legal and illegal) unless you animate him to

Daily conservations about bugs and daily news

He is usually awake before you and prepares breakfast

When he has a good day, than you'll gonna eat breakfast in bed

He likes fresh meals and self made goods

He loves your cooking, but he will never tell you that. You will see it in his eyes, though

You have to learn how to read his body language (non-verbal) 

He tends to keep problems to himself, until he snaps

If you get into an argument you will end up ignoring each other for a few days and then you´ll make up. Don´t worry he won't lay a hand on you but he will get violent on small breakable objects like glass and dining plates. He only throws them on the ground, it's a coping technique he learned in his childhood by his social worker.

He kisses you the top of your head more than any other place, followed by pressing his forehead against yours

Kisses on the lips are rare. They are for special occasions like the day you married or something really good happened -  namely promotion or winning any kind of price

If it happens it is a long passionate kiss, sometimes followed by multiple short ones

At the beginning he tried to manipulate you, he still does it, but less obvious. He tried to cut you off from seeing your friends and family, but stubborn you stopped it.

He sometimes forgets for a second that you're his wife and not his favorite specimen in his collection, but he catches himself faster than you´ll notice

He is annoyed that you are babying his dogs. In other words you buy them new toys, made them fresh food and a lot of cuddles - that man is sometimes jealous of his dogs

If you want other pets like for example bunny's you have to persuade him. It is easier to get him say yes, if the new pet is useful in any way

You are the only one, who is allowed to touch his lovely bubble butt - He will act as like he hates it, but he loves it secretly

In general: You are the only one who is allowed to touch him with the exception of Handshakes, cause he has to greet “VIP´s” somehow

He sleeps in Pajamas and he is the big spoon unless you sleep on top of him

He keeps his lives separated. Which means with you and at work he is Asa the Professor and exterminator, but in his collection he's the Collector (obviously). Although the Collector persona slips into your steamy bed sessions from time to time

He is not the Vanilla type of guy, but he will, just for you. 

If you let him get kinky he is into Master/Pet and Master/Slave play, he got a Knife Kink and he is into Bondage

He is NEVER ever submissive in bed - deal with it- 

Most likely won´t tell you that he's the Collector. You have to find it out on your own.

When you find out, act like nothing happened (as if you never found out in the first place). Unless you want to end up in his Collection.

He will be surprised when you want to help him with his Collection. He will deny your offer cause he prefer to keep you away from the Collection - it's too dangerous

He´ll use you as Alibi

He prefers to patch himself up, than letting you do it. No matter how good you are.

If necessary, he will hide his wounds from you

Vacations are spend at home for his collections sake, unless you persuade him

Those vacations won't be at tourist hotspots like Rome, Hollywood or Berlin. It will most likely be in small cities or in a cabin surrounded by nature, where our BUG-BOY can study the lokal insects

Asa getting you the anti-baby-pill every month. The pharmacy is on his way back home. He dislikes using condoms.

He doesn't plan to be a father

If you get pregnant somehow, he´ll knows it before you know it

He'll be distant for a few weeks, he doesn't know how to be a good father, because of his backstory (aka his father)

Time to time he will get flashbacks of his childhood when he sees his child, but it will get better as the child gets older.

You´ll end up as the emotional support for the child and Asa and he´ll end up as the child personal teacher and tutor (He won't go easy on them)

Don´t worry the child (and maybe future children, who knows) WILL stay far away from the knowledge of him being the Collector.

You´ll tell them from the beginning that he is getting his wounds in his exterminator side job. You´ll set a certain time he has to be back at midday, but he will go again after your child falls asleep. His work/ life balance will get better.

He tries to be there at every single achievement your child get (or do)

#asa emory is a professor #asa emory x y/n #asa emory x reader #asa emory #the collection #the collector #headconon #slasher x reader #slasher

[apollos-boyfriend]

If every piece you make is cottagecore vent art, and you can't stomach doing studies, or life drawing or making anything positive. Stick to being a hobbyist, maybe sell the stuff you can draw on prints or charms, but don't lose your shit because academic artists are telling you to draw stuff you personally don't connect with or can't handle.

GENUINELY. ITS PISSING ME OF SOOOOOOO BAD. because okay. this isn't like. her prohibiting us from ever drawing this. we can do whatever we want outside of class. she is asking us to not draw these cliches for FOUR projects. it's good to branch out and try new stuff!! that's what these classes are FOR!

like. for hobbyist artists. yeah, you're likely not going to run into these things a lot. but in the professional world, you're CONSTANTLY going to be told what you can/can't draw. this is normal. this is expected. she's not anti-fun for setting limitations like this. honestly, i prefer this over previous classes that have told me i can either draw x, y, or z and nothing else.

also if i had to deal with like 60 students for 10 weeks and half of them submitted the exact same pieces with the same themes and motifs i'd snap too. like i'm not even a professor but the amount of mushroom houses i've seen makes me instantly understand why she'd say this

#lemonberry-conda #muse talk #neg #vent #wrong order for some of those whoops #but yea berry u get me like no one else. this shit is so #i get it's probably kids. but still. jesus. #even the jokes r starting to anger me because like. calm down. i think it's funny. and i LOVE drawing mermaids and mushroom fairy shit

[hkblack]

So I've been seeing a lot of people talking about Good Omens Season 2 and the Final 15 and Angst. And I'm watching the conversation sort of become either you loved Season 2 fully because you like angst, or you have reservations/didn't like it/are upset because you don't like angst.

And that didn't sit with me right, because I actually am not anti-angst. I mean, let's be honest about some of the fics I've been beta-reading for (@aethelflaedladyofmercia's amazing Aziraphale's Children Series and @mirjam-writes Be Still My Soul Series to name a few--needless to say, if you read these mind the damn tags). So I've been digging into it, and I think I've realized what inspired my initial knee jerk towards E6, my early reliance on various Discord S2-Venting channels, and I'm hoping it'll resonate with other people and maybe help them put things into words.

So, you know, Spoilers, and Long Post below.

Again, I am not anti-angst. What I am is someone who doesn't consume in-progress media. I don't actually watch a lot of television, nor do I watch any of the big movie franchises like Marvel where you've got to watch 12 movies to understand how you get to the Thanos snap, and then you've got two more movies to resolve the Thanos snap, nor do I read book series that do not have a published end. I don't even read in-progress fanfic unless I am beta-reading it. The TV series I do watch tend to be Monster of The Week shows, Doctor Who, Criminal Minds, Bones, where you maybe will have a season/series arc, but the format is designed so that unless it's a season finale, the "main" story of the episode is tied up neatly in that episode (and maybe a special guest is around for a two part season finale, or mid season special, or whatever). And maybe something bad happens in the season finale (this building exploded, the Doctor started regenerating!) that's a "cliffhanger" of did he/didn't he die (set up for an actor to potentially take a season off, or gracefully exit the show, or deal with off season contract negotiations), but for the most part, there is still a resolution for that season and episode.

So as I'm looking at folks still processing their feelings, and moving through handling S2, what I'm realizing is that I don't actually think the problem here is the "angst" and I'm finding myself getting a bit frustrated as people have started drawing a line of "you like angst, you don't like angst" as what's causing the fandom to have feelings right now.

Good Omens the book is a completed form of media. As is the radio play. And the musical (ostensibly). And Season 1 was, also, a completed form of media. It did not need a second season to complete the story it was telling. Now, I'm sure as we do more digging once we do get the third season, we're going to see little seedlings that Neil planted in season 1 for us in the hopes of fulfilling a promise to his best friend. However, it was and remains a completed form of media.

While yes Neil did warn us that Season 2 was the connective tissue between 1 and 3, I think I was still expecting S2 to be a semi-completed form of media the way most television seasons are. Not everything is resolved, no, but we've arrived at the end of this book. But season 2 is not a stand alone book. It's a prologue to s3.

My reasons for not engaging with uncompleted media is not really something I've spent a lot of time poking at because it's not that serious and honestly completed or not, I have a hard time focusing on tv/movies/books anyway because the ADHBees that live in my brain. I had a professor in grad school ask me once if I ever allowed myself to do "nothing" and let my brain shut off. I went "Oh I go to the gym!" and she got snippy because that's not "nothing," and then I had to explain to her that that's fine for her brain, but for my brain, walking on a treadmill is the only time you'll actually get me to watch television and let my brain "turn off." So I started using the gym as a time to catch up on all the latest pop culture. Good Omens S1 was a rare treat for me in that I did put down my phone the first time I watched it, and I'm not sure my hyperfixation would've been as strong had I not watched it in 2020 when I couldn't go to the gym to watch tv. But from my initial reaction to S2 I think my problem with uncompleted media is a mix of ADHBees and a dash of anxiety. I don't mind a cliffe that I've created by stopping reading at X chapter in my book, or pausing the binge on X episode of this show, so that I can go to bed/work/the bathroom. And I don't even mind that end of the season "What happens to the Doctor next?" or "Did Derek survive that bomb blast?" Because I know that the current arc that I'm invested in is complete and the next season will be a new arc, that will answer those questions (that may depend on actor schedules).

As I sit with it more, though… Season 2 is great. I have some issues with the Not-Neil writing, I won't label it as Bad, but I will say there were moments where I went "That's not Neil or Terry" and I have feels about that, because for me, Good Omens is Neil and Terry. While Terry isn't with us and I expect it to be more Neil than Terry, I wasn't ready for moments that weren't either of them. I'll get over it as I watch it more (and have, already, started to love some of those moments). But my issue isn't the angst. It's that, this was a prologue, and I don't like engaging with uncompleted media.

I think a fandom that is 33 years old based of a completed book, you're going to have more people who also don't engage with uncompleted media--whether they've made that realization of themselves or not. I think the struggles folks are having has less to do with "I Love Angste" vs "I Loathe Angste" and more to do with "Is there any kind of resolution to this season's arc?"

It is my belief that we have been given an excellent set up for next season. Seriously! I'm very excited! But I don't think I was given a good resolution for Season 2. I can't even say Gabe/Bee is a good resolution because by the time we got to the fly, it had been a hot minute since I had really spent time with Jim/Gabe or Bee being the main character on screen. So I lost my investment in them. My investment was in Crowley & Aziraphale, Nina & Maggie, and Shax & the Archangels. Because that's what the writing told me to be invested in. Muriel is adorable, and I love her, but like Gabe and Bee, I could take or leave all of them and what we saw of them, tbh. Gabe and Bee's story was so rushed and felt so empty compared to the characters we did spend time with (I really feel like I have more connection to the Magic Shop and it's history than Gabe and Bee's history because of how we had that time in it spread out and given to us in a way that made us care, I sort of wish their relationship hadn't been a mystery to us, the audience, much the same way as Adam as the anti-christ wasn't a mystery to us, and that the mystery had remained "where is Gabriel's memory?" because then that twist of "Oh the Archangels wiped it--WAIT THEY DIDN'T?!" would've hit even harder) that even though you could point to this season and say that their arc is clearly what was resolved in this season--their arc didn't start until 15 minutes to the end. Maggie and Nina's arc was excellent, but also we only saw them telling Crowley about their end of the season resolution (the end of the story resolution will, obviously, be them getting together, as the angel Maggie knows, as Nina rolls her eyes), we didn't really get to see their resolution.

This season was a lot of filler, and that's okay! I know Neil told us there was connective tissue. I just wish there had been a stronger story to center myself on in that connective tissue so I wasn't left with such a strong feeling of: "...that's it?"

#good omens #good omens season 2 #meta analysis #angst #unresolved #season 2 thoughts

[thomasisaslut]

Amorentia || Severus Snape x F!Hufflepuff Reader

Chapter Two || Reoccurrence

Word Count: 908

Reaching the class you spot a few other students that are in your advanced class. You see the Weasley twins, Blaise Zabini, and Cedric Diggory. You decide to sit by your fellow Hufflepuff—Cedric. Well you're not the best of friends it's much better then sitting with a cunning Slytherin or two pranksters who never stop talking.

"[First Name]?" Cedric smiles at you as you sit down in the empty seat beside him.

"Cedric." You smile then take out your equipment for the class, bracing yourself for whatever challenge the Professor has today.

Professor Snape soon enters the classroom through his storage closet in the back. He then speaks.

"Welcome." His voice booms around the classroom. He then continues his speech after he's sure he has everyones attention. "Today we are brewing the Anti-Paralysis potion." He turns around to the large chalkboard behind him, he writes the lesson down in large bold letters at the top. 'ANTI-PARALYSIS POTION 101' it reads, the chalk stick almost snapping due to his rough writing. He then writes in bullet points underneath the large sentence. 'Syrup of Hellebore (2. Fl oz.), Stewed Mandrake (6. oz), Moondew (4. Fl oz).' Your eyes study his hands as he writes.

"Now begin." He snaps, the class nods and begins.

You gather your ingredients from the shelves in the room then return to your spot by Cedric and begin your work. Throughout the class you see your potion brewing to the perfect shade pink as instructed. You then feel a set of eyes on you, you look around the room only to be met with Professor Snape's eyes, you instantly look away as you flush, looking back towards your potion you turn off the burner. You then see a figure before you, you look up to see Snape again.

"Wait the correct amount of time for the cooldown this time, Ms. [Last Name]." He snaps but you swear there was a hint of concern in his voice.

You nod in response, completely understanding. He says nothing more and returns to examining the classes potions.

At the end of class you bottle your potion, this time the bottle remains connected. You're last in line to hand your potion is, eventually it gets to your turn and you hand him the bottle. You notice his eyes widen but only for a slim second.

"Good." He states then grades your potion a perfect O. Outstanding. A smile instantly crosses your features. You turn around but then Professor Snape speaks again. "Ms. [Last Name]." You turn around to face him again, the feeling of excitement returns as you keep eye contact with him.

"Yes, sir?" You ask, your voice sounding happy.

"Stay after class, I wish to speak with you." He states plainly, his face losing all the previous shock from before.

You nod again then return to your seat to pack up your belongings. You glance up at Cedric and wave.

"Bye, [First Name]!" He says then leaves the potion room.

You wave as he leaves, you then glance back at Snape, you notice he is glaring at Cedric as he leaves. He then feels your gaze and looks towards you, he looks at the chair before his desk, you nod understanding then sit before his desk. Every other student have now left, you feel exhilarated once again.

"What did you wish to see me for, Professor?" You ask curiously.

"Your wounds. Let me see them, Ms. [Last Name]" He stands from behind the desk then walks over to you, he holds his hand out to you so he can grab your arm.

You nod and lift the sleeve of your Hufflepuff robe, revealing the bandages beneath the cloth. He grabs your arm then removes the bandages, carefully Snape stares intensely at the wounds before nodding.

"They look fine, if they reopen go to Madame P immediately, understood?"

"Yes sir.." You mumble and frown as he releases your arm.

"Good, now I have a second thing. Ms. [Last Name]." You wait for him to continue. "Your potion today was perfect. It was graded an Outstanding, as you saw." He pauses, looking a bit uncertain before speaking again. "Would you like to be moved to the double excelled potions class?" Snape asks.

"Truly, Professor..?" You ask a bit shocked, a smile creeping onto your lips.

He nods, a small cocky smirk on his lips.

"I would love to, sir!" Your smile now beaming. He nods again, approving your reaction.

"Good, it'll be your last class of the day, your Care for Creatures class will be moved to this period." He states then waves his hand dismissively.

You take the hint and turn to leave, waving a small bye to him as you exit the room.

Once you leave the room you clutch your bag sleeve tightly, the same feeling of exhilaration fills your chest, you smile widely as you exit the hallway of the deep, dark, dungeon.

Chapter Three:

#severus snape #severus x y/n #severus x reader #cedric diggory #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

[superherotiger]

For No Reason at All - Dadneto Whumptober 2023

Prompt: Betrayal + Panic

Summary: Erik believes killing Graydon Creed is the only way to protect their people, and Charles does the only thing he can to stop him.

AO3 LINK

(Warnings: Choking, mind manipulation)

~~~

Charles Xavier’s biggest strength was unfortunately his greatest downfall.

Hope.

Hope in humanity. Hope in change. Hope in the future.

Erik had never had the luxury to dream of such things, and so he never felt the sting of disappointment Charles did when that hope was inevitably broken. How Charles managed to hold onto his faith after decades of human bigotry, Erik would never understand. It was one of the many reasons they clashed so often, and at the same time, why they worked so well together. They were a harmonious balance of bright optimism and cold reality. Two sides of the same coin.

Most days Erik admired -or at the very least respected- his friend’s unyielding hope.

Today was not one of those days, however.

When Charles received an invitation from the raging anti-mutant advocate Graydon Creed suggesting a meeting to discuss the way ahead for both mutants and humans alike, Erik had been sceptical to say the least. Traps were not an uncommon tactic used by the X-Men’s enemies, but to be this blatantly obvious about it just felt insulting. Surely Creed and his self-proclaimed ‘Friends of Humanity’ wouldn’t have been so dense as to just ask the X-Men to fall into their hands? The alternative was that the letter had been genuine, and that seemed far less likely than homosapien stupidity.

Erik had been prepared to forget the matter entirely -deeming it unworthy of any of their time- but for reasons beyond comprehension, Charles not only considered the invitation, but accepted it.

“What if Creed has had a change of heart?” Charles had insisted when Erik told him he was making a grave mistake. “If he does truly wish to have meaningful discussion with us, it might be a step in the right direction for future negotiations.”

“Are you so blinded by your fantasies that you cannot see this is a trap?” Erik snapped. “He’s using you Charles. Using your faith in humanity. That filth has no intention of discussing anything other than the decimation of our kind. Are you honestly going to sit at a table with this monster as he does so?”

“Perhaps you’re right… in fact, it is most likely,” Charles sighed. “But I have to hope, Erik.”

The man couldn’t help but scoff in disbelief. “And where has that hope gotten you so far?”

“It’s brought me here- talking to an old friend I thought I’d lost forever, and watching as my brave young X-Men pave the way for mutants and humans to live in harmony,” Charles smiled proudly. “Hope has reaped great rewards in the past. Imagine what it could do for our future.”

As inspiring as Charles’ words may have been, it was unfortunately not enough to sway Erik’s mind. He had seen too much destruction- too much hatred in his life to believe in the utopia that the professor dreamed of.

But while he couldn’t agree, Erik also couldn’t help but respect his friend, nonetheless.

Besides, the determination that gleamed in Charles’ eyes made it clear he wasn’t seeking Erik’s approval anyway, and that the real question was whether or not Erik would join him for the disaster they were no doubt about to walk into. Naturally, Erik said yes. As much as he and Charles had their differences he would never let his friend get torn apart by those animals. And maybe if Erik were lucky, he might even get the chance to take down a few of those snivelling Friends of Humanity when they no doubt proved him right.

Which was how they ended up here; in a deserted restaurant littered with broken tables, shattered glass and bullet holes. With Friends of Humanity soldiers laying sprawled out across the floor, bruised and battered from a swift defeat.

And with Erik’s hands wrapped around the throat of their pathetic leader, mere seconds away from choking the life out of his terrified, desperate eyes.

“Did you really think you stood a chance against our kind, human?” Erik sneered coldly, noting every flinch- every flutter of panic across Creed’s strained features. “Even knowing of your trivial attempt to trap us, we still managed to best you. And do you know why?”

Teeth gritting like he wanted to argue but every breath strangled by Erik’s iron grip, Creed could only glare up at the man with a shaky veil of defiance.

Luckily Erik was more than happy to provide the answer for him.

“It’s because you are nothing. You are worth nothing.”

A wounded sound escaped past Creed’s lips.

Good, Erik thought bitterly. Perhaps now he would understand even a fraction of the torment he had inflicted on their mutant brothers and sisters for all these years.

“Erik- that’s enough.”

Without loosening his grip in the slightest, Erik glanced over his shoulder to meet Charles’ concerned frown, blood trickling down from a cut on his forehead courtesy of the humans he was so intent on defending. For some reason, the sight of Charles’ unwavering ideals in the face of such destruction -such utter betrayal- made Erik burn with fury.

“Even after all of this, you would come to his rescue?” Erik asked in disbelief. “Protect the one who has persecuted mutants for years, slandered our names- hunted us like animals?!”

“Creed’s actions are deplorable, I agree- but that does not mean we have to stoop to his level,” Charles said evenly, which only served to infuriate Erik further.

“To let this one human live would be to let a thousand mutants die,” Erik pointed out coldly.

Eyes growing sharp with worry, Charles said cautiously, “It is not our place to decide who lives and dies.”

“And yet Creed and his men are able to murder and terrorise our kind daily without any repercussions,” Erik scowled as he turned his venomous stare back to the man cowering before him. Creed’s face had become sickly pale by now and his pitiful attempts to claw out of Erik’s hands had been reduced to a weak scramble. If he didn’t take a breath soon, he would surely die.

Erik hadn’t thought of taking a life in a long time. Since joining Charles and his X-Men again nearly a year ago, he had wanted to improve. To do right by the family he had lost and be better for the son that had given him a new chance at life. But Creed had killed so many, and Erik knew he would kill many more if he were to escape.

The Friends of Humanity had to be stopped- now and forever.

And if Erik had to face the disappointment of his family to ensure that, well… it was a risk he was willing to take.

“Eventually you’ll see Charles…”

Erik’s voice was eerily calm. A stark contrast to the panic flooding over Creed’s face as he came to realise his fate.

“…I’ve done the world a favour.”

Understanding dawned on Charles a moment too late, and before he could scream for Erik to stop the mutant was already closing his grip around Creed’s windpipe, strangling him into complete silence.

“ERIK RELEASE HIM!”

Charles’ cry was a painful echo of the past. Of a beach littered with smoke and debris and betrayal. Erik had hoped they were past such division, but just like in Cuba, Charles would never truly understand what it took to secure their future.

So keeping his mind focused on ridding this monster from the world, Erik ignored his dearest friend’s demands and hardened his resolve.

When it was clear that Erik was no longer listening or even seeing anything outside of his deadly goal, he felt a familiar presence push against the walls of his mind, searching for any crack or fault in his defences. Erik was no stranger to sensing Charles in his mind. But ever since Apocalypse had unlocked the full extent of Erik’s power back in Auschwitz, his mental defences had strengthened with them, and Charles’ ability to overpower his will had become more than a challenge for the experienced telepath.

If Erik swayed for even a moment there was no doubt that Charles would take control and save Creed from his well-deserved execution. It was why he had to stay strong. Had to think of nothing but what Creed had done, what he would do, how it could be stopped. Erik had to believe with every fibre of his being that what he was doing was the right thing- no, the only thing that could be done.

Creed must die so mutants can live.

It was a mantra he repeatedly turned over in his mind as he felt Creed’s pulse beneath his hands grow sporadic and fleeting. Meanwhile in his mind, he could feel Charles start to crash into his mental shields like a battering ram, clearly realising that Erik’s resolve was too solid to breach without added force.

Regardless of the attacks though, Erik refused to back down.

Within moments Creed would be dead, and yes Charles would be furious, but in time he would realise that it was all for the-

Murky green eyes shifted to a strikingly familiar brown.

Dishevelled dark hair flickered to waves of shimmering silver.

The torn and bloodied fabric of Creed’s suit morphed into a metallic jacket and worn band shirt.

Without warning, without explanation, the monster that was Graydon Creed had been replaced with the sight of Pietro Maximoff- of his beloved son.

Shock paralysed Erik in place for only a heartbeat, but it was long enough for the image to sear into his memory like a brand. Pietro’s face drained of life, his hands clinging weakly to Erik’s wrists, chest stuttering for a breath it couldn’t find, his normally warm and soothing eyes now staring up at him in pure, unfiltered terror-

Erik pulled his hands away if they had been engulfed in fire, watching in mortification as his son’s form crumbled to the ground in a vicious coughing fit. Once the horrid sound subsided it was replaced with ragged gasps as Pietro all but collapsed onto his side in exhaustion, leaving Erik to stumble back and feel his own chest constrict in agony.

Had he just…?

No- it wasn’t possible. That had been Creed, he’d been about to kill Creed, not Pietro-

He would never hurt his boy- never!

And then -just as quickly as he had appeared- Pietro was gone again, leaving an unconscious but very much alive Graydon Creed lying in his place.

The momentary relief that fluttered through Erik’s ribcage was swiftly extinguished beneath a wave of confusion and dread. He tried desperately to assure himself that it hadn’t been true… that he hadn’t tried to kill his own son. The speedster wasn’t even here- he was on a peaceful mission with the rest of the team, which was why Erik and Charles had come to the meeting alone. There was no reason to panic. Pietro was safe, and far away from his father’s shaking, murderous hands…

But even knowing that couldn’t erase what Erik had seen- what he had felt. His son staring up at him in so much pain, so much fear, and the desperate flutters of his heartbeat beneath Erik’s fingertips as he veered on the edge of death…

No, Erik would never be able to forget that.

Even now as he stared upon Creed’s defeated form, Erik struggled to draw in a proper breath, hands shaking violently as he gripped at his aching chest. His thoughts were a mess. Reasoning tangled with raw emotions. Reality conflicting with what he knew he’d seen. Because there was no way he had imagined that- no way he could have conjured something so vivid and detailed and absolutely horrid. Not even someone as powerful as Charles would have done something so…

Erik’s heart dropped like lead into his already churning stomach.

For once, he almost didn’t want to know the truth. But raising his eyes to meet the guilt-ridden gaze of his once trusted friend, Erik felt understanding pierce through him like a bullet.

“I… I’m so sorry Erik,” Charles choked out, his voice a mere whisper beneath the crushing shame. “It was the only way you would stop…”

Ice crawled up Erik’s spine and into his lungs, stealing what little air remained in the midst of his panic. He knew he should feel relieved that it hadn’t been real -that the awful sight of his son dying by his hand had been nothing but a façade- but the truth left a scar just as deep.

Charles had betrayed him.

Not only as an ally, but as a friend.

After all these years and all the battles and all the loss, Charles had taken Erik’s final surviving hope -the son he loved more than life itself- and turned him into a weapon. Charles knew of every loved one that had ever been stolen from him. Had witnessed how that grief tore Erik apart, again and again, and yet he still made Erik believe -if only for a moment- that he had almost slaughtered his own child.

How could he?

After his mother. After Magda. After Nina-

How could Charles make him see something so sickening? Make him think he was even capable of causing harm to his son?

Charles had branded Erik’s memory as deeply as the ink on his skin, never to be scrubbed away.

And for what? The life of a single worthless human.

They’d had their disagreements in the past, but this time, Charles’ ideals had driven him one step too far.

“How dare you…” Erik spat almost venomously. “How dare you use my own son against me!”

“Erik, I-I’m sorry, it was the only way I could-“

“Shut up!” Erik snapped as he leant against one of the few surviving tables and clawed at his shirt, as if it would somehow release the searing pain spreading across his chest. “I thought… you- you made me see-”

“I know… and I’m sorry,” Charles spoke softly.

Gritting his teeth, Erik hissed, “Your guilt means nothing to me.”

Even without looking at him Erik could sense Charles’ expression hardening. “You didn’t leave me with any other choice,” he stated defensively, before crying out as the metal supports of his chair suddenly crumpled inward- not enough to harm the man, but enough to silence any further arguments.

Waiting until Charles met his eyes again with a flash of terror, Erik said coldly, “If you ever use my child against me again Xavier, you’ll have more to worry about than one dead human.”

Charles didn’t say anything in reply, but then again, he didn’t need to. The horror etched into his features said it all. He wouldn’t be attempting a trick like that again, not unless he wanted the entire world to feel the consequences for it.

Satisfied that he’d gotten his point across but still unable to relieve the pressure crushing his ribs, Erik unfurled his fist and returned Charles’ chair back to a functioning state before staggering over to the door. Charles made no attempt to stop him. It was the wisest decision he’d made all day, because if Erik spent one more moment in that room he was certain it would end in an impromptu street-wide demolition. Even now he could feel all the metal supports and wiring and street poles in the area calling to his senses, amplified by the volatile state of his heart.

Because while the fury had honed his thoughts with dangerous precision for a short while, the guilt and shame were quick to flood back in as well- no matter how misplaced they were.

When Erik stepped out onto the sidewalk he drew in a sharp breath, hoping it would ease the fire in his lungs but to no avail. Frustration now mixed with the storm of emotions raging within, and he wanted to scream- wanted to tear Creed and his men apart, wanted to erase the horrors lingering behind his eyelids and claw at his hands until they could never harm his family again. He wanted…

Pietro.

If he saw his son… if he could confirm with his own eyes that the boy was safe and well and not terrified of him, then perhaps the conflict raging in his mind would cease.

It seemed to be the only possible solution amidst Erik’s clouded thoughts, and he wasted no time in propelling himself into the air with the aid of his powers. With any luck Pietro and the rest of the team would be back at the school by now. And as for Charles- well, he’d gotten himself into this mess. He could find his own way back.

The journey back to the school grounds were a blur. Erik’s focus was far too narrow to take in any of his surroundings, and when he finally landed on the familiar gravel driveway he rushed into the mansion with a numbness he hadn’t felt since Poland. Practically sprinting into the main foyer, Erik closed his eyes and tried to ignore the ghost of an image that shimmered through the darkness, instead seeking out the metal pendant that hummed with memories long past.

If Erik could find the family locket, he would find the elusive speedster it belonged to.

But before Erik could even truly stretch out his senses, his eyes snapped open at the familiar metal vibrations approaching from the hallway just beside him, turning and staring in awe at the silver haired speedster that was casually strolling towards him. Pietro’s gaze was transfixed on the multi-coloured cube in his hands, twisting and turning the edges at blinding speeds before bringing all the colours to match and promptly scrambling them up all over again.

Just when Erik thought that the boy was about to walk straight past him, Pietro paused before his father with his eyes never leaving the puzzle, greeting warmly, “Hey pops. Meeting go well?”

The casualness of his son’s nature caught Erik off guard, bringing his previous sea of emotions to an abrupt standstill. After scrambling for an answer, he finally settled on a short but not untruthful, “…No one died.”

“Impressive. I bet the Professor was real proud,” Pietro chuckled.

The reminder of his old friend and his subsequent betrayal left Erik growing cold. “That’s irrelevant- are you alright?” he said shortly in the hopes to change the conversation to more important matters.

The shift in tone must have finally caught Pietro’s attention as he lifted his gaze curiously and said, “Uh… yeah? I mean the mission was pretty boring if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“And you have no injuries? Nothing that requires medical attention?” Erik asked with barely contained worry.

Scoffing, Pietro tucked the puzzle cube into his pocket and joked, “Geez, a guy forgets to get his fractured wrist checked out one time and suddenly everyone acts like I’m made of glass.”

“Pietro-“

“Yes, dad- I’m fine,” the boy assured with a smirk. “Ask Hank if you don’t believe me.”

“No… no, I trust you,” Erik said softly, his gaze flickering over Pietro’s every feature to confirm it so.

Unlike previous times where Pietro had hidden injuries, Erik could see that his son was in fine health, not a single scratch or bruise in sight. But even now with Pietro standing before him completely unharmed, Erik couldn’t help but feel his hands start to tremble as he met those warm brown eyes again. Eyes that had stared at him in a silent, desperate plea for mercy only minutes ago. Hands that had once clawed weakly at his own, desperate to escape. A pulse stuttering painfully beneath his touch-

“Hey, are you alright?”

Erik blinked himself back to reality at his son’s gentle words. Clearly the man had been lost in his spiralling thoughts long enough for Pietro’s once carefree smile to shift into a worried frown, big brown eyes searching his father’s face for the source of his distress.

It was not in Erik’s nature to lie, but the idea of telling Pietro what had happened -what he’d seen- was almost too painful to bear. As irrational as it sounded, Erik feared that if Pietro knew what he had witnessed, then he would look at his father in a different light. One that feared him. One that could never feel safe in his presence.

If a day came where Pietro looked at his father the same way that façade had, Erik wasn’t sure he could live with himself.

So, unwilling to lie to the son that he loved and yet so desperate for the assurance, Erik asked shakily, “You know that… that I would never hurt you, right?”

Surprise painted over Pietro’s features. “Of course I do,” he said as it were obvious, only for his disbelief to fade when he noticed the guilt welling in his father’s eyes. Pietro stared at him searchingly for a long moment- like he had a million questions just waiting to be unleashed and wasn’t sure where to start.

In the end though, he didn’t ask any of them. Simply offered his father a warm smile and stepped forward to embrace him, repeating gently into the man’s shoulder, “Of course I do…”

Warmth spread out across Erik’s chest at the touch, thawing out the shame and remorse and replacing it with Pietro’s unwavering affection instead. Despite his gift, the speedster could be surprisingly patient when he needed to be. Erik was grateful that now was one of those moments as he stared ahead blankly and tried to hold back the stinging sensation in his eyes.

It didn’t seem to bother Pietro that his father hadn’t embraced him back though. He hadn’t even noticed the occasional stutter in Erik’s breathing, or the tension that gradually released from the man’s stiff shoulders. No, Pietro just continued to hold him, his arms steady and secure like they always were.

It took Erik an agonisingly long time to return the gesture.

With careful, hesitant movements, he lifted his arms and coiled them around Pietro’s sturdy frame, terrified that the moment he placed his dangerous, violent hands on his son the peaceful illusion would shatter. But the world didn’t fall apart when Erik finally held Pietro close. There was no frantic struggling for air or fleeting heartbeat beneath his hands, just the smooth metallic fabric of Pietro’s jacket and the silky strands of silver hair threaded between his fingers.

And finally, for the first time since leaving that destroyed and broken restaurant, Erik took a real breath of air.

The ache in his chest ebbed away.

The shadows of his mind retreated.

With a content sigh, Erik lowered his head to rest in the curve of his son’s shoulder.

The haunting memory had fled for now, and like all the other horrors Erik had witnessed, he was sure it would return in time. But he also knew that when it did, he could reply on the strong, rapid race of Pietro’s heartbeat to sooth his turbulent mind.

~~~

Thanks for reading! ✨

#dadneto #quickson #erik lehnsherr #peter maximoff #my writing #whumptober #whumptober2023 #fanfiction

[myadmiringmind]

Let me keep you Safe |Daphne Greengrass

Daphne Greengrass Masterlist

Summary: Daphne Greengrass, your girlfriend, finds out that her ex-best friend Pansy Parkinson has been messing with you. She doesn’t take it well.

Pairing: Daphne Greengrass x gf!Reader

Notes:

Takes place in sixth year

not really following any plot in the book or movie

Slughorn does get mentioned

No homophobia

Some fighting

Anti-Pansy

|PICTURES DO NOT BELONG TO ME|

Warnings: fights, bullying, blood, threatening, some suggestions to past abuse

How could you not admire her when you walk by. Daphne was a goddess. But an intimidating goddess at that. Only the really ambitious-or stupid- approached her, and attempted to take her on a date. She was never interested though.

Your relationship had been kept a secret from public eyes. Not for any particular reason other than the adrenaline rush of sneaking around. Only your closest friends and Daphnes sister, Astoria, knew about it.

It’s January, the air is still chill from December, casting an icy breeze down the halls. Most students shivered, but Daphne didn’t. She was leaned against the cold wall, her figure the picture of elegance. She was dressed in her own clothes since students weren’t required to wear robes over the weekends. She looked quite intelligent, but also scary. The kind of person you don’t approach because they look like they could read your mind.

She kept to herself, examining her nails, her mouth thin in displeasure. Her head snapped in the direction of footsteps and low and behold there you were. Walking alone, messenger bag on your hip, eyes focused on the floor in front of you. Your pose indicated you weren’t open to conversation. But you always walked like that.

Daphnes heart fluttered at the sight of you and a smile blossomed on her face. She quickly walked over to you, her hand quickly finding yours. You looked up, knowing immediately who it was. You smiled, grateful at the blondes appearance.

“Where are you headed?” Daphne asked genuinely curious

“The library. I need to return some books and pick up some new ones.” You answered

Daphne hummed, “Did I ever tell you about the time in second year when a book followed me around for a week. Honest to Merlin, I couldn’t figure out why. My professors thought I was misbehaving, so I got detention.”

You laughed, “It just followed you around?”

Daphne nodded, “Yeah but when it placed itself on my desk it would make a loud sound. Disturbed all the students around me. Now that I think about it, it was probably Parkinson’s idea.”

You stiffened, Daphne didn’t think anything of it.

“What for?” You asked

Daphne laughed, “I was probably standing to close to Malfoy the day before. You know how Parkinson gets when you mess with one of her ‘possessions’.”

You shook your head, “Malfoys a person.”

“I don’t think Parkinson ever saw him that way. I think she’s just always seen him as her betrothed Prince that she would end up marrying and living in a big castle with all of us as her unhappy subjects. ‘Course, Malfoy didn’t give a fuck about her until last year. He just liked all the attention she gave him. I think that’s why he still keeps her around.”

Your mouth thinned, “That’s sad, the way they both use each other.”

Daphne shrugged, “I think it’s better than one of them actually being in love.”

You stopped walking, and Daphne stopped as well, confused, “How do you know they don’t love each other?”

Daphne hesitated, “I think they love the idea of each other. What the other can give them. But if it were just them, it wouldn’t mean anything.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, “Do you think they could learn to love one another?”

“I don’t know, when you grow up the way they- we did. It’s kind of all you know. It’s uncomfortable to love someone when you aren’t familiar with it. It feels…unsafe. Parkinson and Malfoy don’t like feeling unsafe.”

Your brows furrowed in distress but Daphne cut you off before you could say anything.

“I know what you’re thinking. Yes, it was odd feeling what I feel for you at first. I didn’t like it. But I do now. I’m happier now. So I’m glad I took that risk with you.” She squeezed your hand

You squeezed back, smiling.

——————————

True to your words, you were sitting in the library with a few transfiguration books open.

Your head snapped up when the chair across from you screeched as it dragged on the floor.

Pansy Parkinson’s eyes were mischievous, like a cat about to chase a mouse. Your mouth thinned, anxiety pooled in your stomach, as well as frustration. What did she want?

“Watchya readin their honey.” She smacked her lips together annoyingly.

“A book.” You answered dryly

Parkinson scowled, “I’m not stupid, I can see that’s a book.”

“Then maybe you can also see that I’m reading it.” You snapped back

Pansy stared at you blankly before smiling a cruel smile. “No need to be fiesty honey. I just want to have a nice conversation with you that’s all.”

She stood up and sat in the chair right next to you. You turned to face her, not trusting her to be so close and not be up to something.

“So how’s Daph doing?” She asked, but she didn’t look at all interested in what your answer would be.

“Fine.” You replied shortly

Pansy smiled a teasing smile, “Y’know Daph used to be such a laugh. She was always a mischievous one. Which was why I was so confused when she turned her back back on us, for people like you.”

She didn’t give you time to answer before continuing, “She spends a lot of time with you I’ve noticed. Do you have something she likes or…” she breaks off looking at you. She laughs suddenly, “Don’t tell me the two of you are seeing each other!”

You stiffened.

“Daphne always was unpredictable. But this! Now that’s something.” The raven headed girl stated loudly.

She moved her hand to your cheek and you flinched back, “Now, you and I are gonna come up with a nice little plan. You’re gonna break off whatever you have with Greengrass. You’re gonna tell her that she’s pathetic for thinking you could ever care for her. That you just wanted to see how far she’d go. Call her a blood supremacist or whatever. Break. Her. Heart.” Pansy said through clenched teeth, “Or, the next time we see each other, you won’t be getting away in one piece.” You froze when you felt the tip of her wand on your thigh.

She smiled cruely, “See you around, honey.”

You were shocked. Frozen in place.

That’s why, you didn’t noticed a particular Greengrass sister a couple years younger than you was nearby. And she heard, everything.

————————-

A few weeks had gone by.

You continued to see Daphne, not sure what your plan was. Ignore Pansy, listen to Pansy, try and deceive Pansy?

Pansy Parkinson was like a parasite. Most kids younger than her were afraid of her. So if she wanted to know something, she’d know.

Every time you saw Daphne it was short and quick.

You could see the confusion laced on her face every time you walked away with pathetic excuses that she could see right through.

You had been struggling a bit in potions recently so you weren’t suprised when Professor Slughorn sent you a note with an invitation for some extra help.

You made your way to the potions room, you caught a glimpse of Daphne, talking with her younger sister Astoria. You lowered your head and kept walking. You could think about everything later.

Entering into the potions room your eyes went straight to the teachers desk and you were suprised not to see your professor.

“Slughorns out for a bit.” A frighteningly familiar voice said from the corner.

Pansy was leaning against a table, looking happy. But not a good kind of happy.

“When will he be back?” You ask when the silence becomes to much.

Pansy snorts out a laugh, “Not for hours…you didn’t really think the note was from old Professor Slughorn, did you?”

Great.

“What do you want now?” You ask annoyed that you had been decieved.

“I thought I made it very clear that you were to break off things with Daphne. But she looks almost as she was before we had our chat.”

“Maybe Daphne doesn’t care as much as you think she does.” You replied

“No. I’m right. I know I’m right. The question is, do you?”

“What?” You we’re confused

“I made you a promise last time we spoke.” Pansy studied her nails in a bored manner.

“You threatened me.”

“Pish posh.” Pansy said, “You are the fool for not listening. Now, what am I going to do with you?” She pulled out her wand from her robes.

Your wand was in your bag, but you knew the second you tried to reach for it she’d hit you. Pansy may be a bitch, but her hexes are pretty good.

“How about an apology.” A third voice said

Whirling around, you see your girlfriend standing by the door, her wand pointed straight at Parkinson.

“Daphne.” Pansy was very suprised by the blondes appearance.

“Parkinson.” Daphne sneered back.

Pansy recovered from her shocked look, to a face of annoyance.

“We were just having a little girl talk. No need to be so hostile Daph.” Pansy rolled her eyes

Daphne chuckled darkly, “Like when you threatened my girlfriend in the library two weeks ago. Was that what you consider a little girl talk?”

Parkinson stiffened and she looked at you with flaming eyes. If looks could kill.

“Don’t look at her.” Daphnes voice snapped

“How long have the two of you been seeing each other?” Parkinson asked, trying to look uninterested.

Daphne moved closer to you, “That, is none of your concern.”

“How come? We’re friends, aren’t we Daphhy?” She mocked a pout

Daphhy? If it werent for the fact that she was just plain annoying than that would make you feel the urge to punch.

“We haven’t been friends for a long time Parkinson. Especially not now.” Daphne was shaking. What fueled this, you weren’t sure.

Pansys mouth thinned.

“If I even hear a whisper that you are messing with my girlfriend I will make sure you regret it, do. you. understand?” The look on Daphnes face scared you. Even though you knew her anger wasn’t directed towards you.

“You always were a fiesty one Greengrass. A poked dragon just waiting for the chance to sink its teeth into someone. Is that what you plan to do to your little bitch here?” Pansy said

The sound of cracking was Daphnes response.

Pansy shrieked in pain, her hands going to her cover her face.

She pulled them pack and saw the blood that was coming from Pansy’s nose.

Daphne grabbed your hand, hard. “If you ever mess with her again you’ll wish all you got was a broken nose.” Daphne seethed

She pulled you from the room and dragged you, up and up multiple sets of stairs until she just stopped in a completely empty corridor.

She turned to look at you, anger still blazing in her eyes. She looked at you expectant, like a parent waiting for their child to confess their wrongdoing.

You opened your mouth, trying to think of what to say but closed it when you couldn’t think of anything.

When Daphne realized you weren’t going to say anything, she began talking, “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has Parkinson been talking to you? Has she hurt you? I swear if she touched you I’ll-“

“No.” You said out of nowhere, “No, Daph you shouldn’t have broken her nose like that-“

“Did you expect me to just step back and let her talk about you the way she did!” Daphne thundered

“I’m not saying she didn’t deserve it but now every time she sees you-“

“She’ll keep to herself, she’s not dumb enough to try me again.” Daphne countered

You went silent at that.

Daphne sighed, running a stressed hand across her face, “Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered

“I thought it would go away.”

“You’re lying.” Daphne said

“What was I supposed to say, that Pansy Parkinson wouldn’t leave me alone?”

“Yes!” Daphne shouted, “I can keep you safe! Don’t you understand that? I can keep you safe from all of them, they’re afraid of me, they wouldn’t mess with you!”

“I don’t need you to keep me safe!” You shouted back

“Are you sure, because it’s not what it seemed like in there.” Daphne laughed with no humor.

“I would’ve figured it out!” You said

Daphne went silent, looking at you with concern.

She walked towards you and touched your cheek.

“At least tell me.” She whispered, “I don’t want you to keep big details like that, I don’t want to not know you’re hurting. Because I…I love you. Don’t you see that?” She pleaded

“I do now.” You replied, “I love you, Daphne. I didn’t want to worry you.”

Daphne smiled lightly, “You always worry me. As long as I live you will always worry me.”

And she kissed you.

#daphne greengrass #harry potter universe #harry potter fluff #hufflepuff #slytherin #Daphne Greengrass fluff #daphne greengrass x reader #harry potter #astoria greengrass #pansy parkinson

[averagewriter777]

More Than What You Signed Up For

(Jacksepticeye & Egos x Female!Reader)

You had met Seán unexpectedly and had not known he was as well. No, you don’t live under a rock… you just have a full-time job and would rather spend time on Adult Swim than YouTube during your free time. And by ‘freetime’ that means grading discussion boards and assignments.

After dating for a year and a half, you had brought up moving in together. Seán seemed uneasy about it, saying he was unorganized at home and a lot of the time ‘like’ a different person. You said you didn’t care and if it was really that serious, you would continue to live in your apartment, but would soon love to move in with him. Strangely, the next morning, you got a text saying to completely ignore everything he said the night before and that he’d love you at his apartment.

Your schedules were not too far apart. Though you lived in the United Kingdom, you were a professor for Stanford University- just online. Your lectures were not pre-recorded, because you didn’t like your previous students to be talking to your new students… you learned that in your third year of teaching abroad. So, you woke up at 6am every morning to record a lecture for the week- which only took about two hours, before heading to the kitchen to start on your and Seán’s morning.

Though usually an early riser, Seán had quickly discovered not to record while you were recording. Even with his walls padded, you told him you could still hear him and had to clip out and re-record parts of your lecture the first time. He was awfully apologetic about it, and promised to record when you were finished. It meant sleeping in for him anyway.

One morning, however, was different. It was Fall Break for Stanford University, so you remained in bed next to him, even sleeping past that 8am mark that breakfast was usually being made. You, however, woke up when you felt him violently twitch next to you- and even heard his neck snap. “Seán?!” Your grogginess disappeared when you saw him lying there for a moment before inclining his neck to the side again to crack it. “Jesus H. Christ! What the hell was that?”

His blue eyes fell upon your half open (e/c) ones. His eyes seemed to have a strange green glow in the pupils- but you decided to ignore it. “Didn’t mean to wake you… Thought you would be recording your lecture…” His voice was lower in pitch and rough- you almost couldn’t recognize it as his own at first. “I’ll go get started on breakfast.” Seán gave you a kiss, then slid out of bed, not bothering to put on a pair of pants or a shirt.

You watched him leave the room, muttering something to himself that sounded like a self-argument. It was too quiet for you to hear, but he sounded upset. “What the actual fuck…” So, you decided to get out of bed, grabbing one of Seán’s t-shirt’s on your way out and stopping just outside the room to listen in on what was happening in the kitchen. Literally an argument he was having with himself.

“You scared her- I thought I told you not to do that! Any of you… It’s bad enough she hardly knows me YouTube wise. This would scare the shit out of her!” Seán’s voice was back to normal, and his Irish seemed to really be coming out. It happened a lot when he was upset.

“It’s been weeks since I’ve taken over. I mean no harm… especially to her. Your feelings towards her are mine as well.” There was the change in his tone of voice again, deeper and rougher. “The others have been subtly around her- and I’ll be honest in saying I didn’t mean to come out like that. Forgot about Fall Break.”

There was a long sigh, and a completely different voice came out. Almost as if another person entered the room. “ ‘ow could you forget about zat of all things? Ze rest- except me, of course, have been careful around this. You’re just a dummkopf, Anti.” The voice was German- and who the hell was ‘Anti’?

“Umm… you guys are aware that she’s standing outside the bedroom, right? She can probably hear this going on. So, she’s either going to think Seán is crazy or… yeah.” He sounded exactly like Seán, but he seemed to have a strange brighter tone to his voice. “(Y/n)? Please come out so we can talk about this-- all of us.”

You bit your bottom lip and decided to come out, just as what was suggested. The only person in the kitchen was Seán. He had a cup of coffee in his hand and was working towards making yours. “Umm… so you probably have questions.” You crossed your arms and stuck out your hip. “This would be a lot easier if you were somewhat of a fan.”

“Seán… you’re scaring the shit out of me right now, what the actual fuck is this?” You didn’t mean to be so forward about it, but if your boyfriend had multiple personalities and he didn’t tell you by now- by God you were going to have some words with him. “Do you have some multiple personality disorder? Is this why you didn’t want us living together?”

Your boyfriend tapped his chin, took a long sip of his coffee, then sighed. “You could call it a multiple personality disorder, but it’s really not. Because they’re real? I don’t know how to put it. I can, uh… bring them out, like transparent figures- but I really don’t want to freak you out more than you already are.” He looked at your crossed arms and your tapping foot, and sighed again. “Fine… I’ve warned you, please sit on the couch in case you faint. Despite knowing, Amy fainted when Mark did this.”

When the two of you had moved to the living room and you were comfortable on the couch, Seán closed his eyes and crossed his legs- as if he was meditating. Slowly but surely, however, six transparent figures spread throughout the room- all looking like Seán, but in different outfits and styles. The one closest to you made you feel the most uneasy because on his throat were faded knife marks. “Holy fuck--”

“(Y/n), these are my ‘egos’.” Sean sighed, gesturing to the six transparent figures around them. The figures waved and smiled at her, well, except for the one closest to her- who started to smile, but glitched out. “Closest to you is Anti, a darker ego, but he thankfully has a soft spot for you. Next to Anti is Chase, if you ever find me in a sort of dad-like or bro-mode… It's because of him. Henrik is a German doctor, so I strangely know German because of him and I could become a doctor if I wanted, but would switch nationalities. The one in the white mask is Marvin the Magnificent… if you remember our second date when I showed you some magic tricks- that was Marvin showing off. Then we have Jameson, the one who looks like he belongs in a silent movie… he’s literally mute so- if you ever need translating for him or I find myself switching to him, I might use a notepad. He’s quite the romantic. Lastly is my superhero ego, his full name is Jackaboyman, but we all call him Jackie. So, usually when you call me that… I switch over to him- not on purpose…”

You hadn’t moved during the explanation and you were pretty sure you stopped breathing at one point, but continued halfway through. All seven versions of Seán looked at one another, as if they were speaking telepathically (which they probably were) and waited on you. “You mean to tell me… you weren’t even the one doing magic on our second date?”

Seán blinked at you. “That’s… That’s your question?” Anti and Marvin burst out into laughter at his response. “Not ‘you have six other personalities, why didn’t you tell me?’ or ‘This is a lot more than I bargained for’ which isn’t a question, but I feel like that’s what I would be feeling at this moment in time.”

“Oh no, I want to know why you didn’t tell me. I’m slightly upset about that, but not too upset.” You watched the egos smile, then move themselves back to Seán. “And you’re dating me, I have multiple personalities- not like this… but you know what I mean.” You scooted yourself close to Seán and embraced him, to which he immediately hugged back. “Glad you told me, I was getting really worried about you, love. With all your twitching out…”

Seán shook his head and laughed. “That’s mostly Anti glitching, if you get annoyed by it, just call him ‘Glitch Bitch’ he hates it.” His eye twitched, but nothing else happened. “Can I have a morning kiss now?”

You laughed and pressed your lips firmly to his.

(Open to requests if anyone sees this! I'm sticking to Jacksepticeye for several reasons at the moment... and because he's my favorite. Hope y'all enjoyed!)

#jacksepticegos #jacksepticeye #jacksepticeye x reader #marvin the magnificent #anticepticeye #jameson #jackieboy man #one shot

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for abandoning the guy (20M) that got me (16M) out of prison and gave me something to do with my life?

The opening sentence surely makes me sound like the asshole but listen, there's a lot that's happened in the past week. So I've always had a short fuse and when I snap I tend to lash out to those around me. It's not something I'm proud of, but I've grown to live with it and the consequences it brings.

One of those consequences was ending up in jail due to an altercation I'd had with one of my professors (I was advanced to a collegiate education at a young age but was forced to drop out due to the aforementioned violent acts). My family disowned me because of this and because of that there was nobody coming to free me from jail. Until I met him. He invited me to join him in working as a soldato, a mafia foot soldier. I agreed as it was clear there was no place for me in the normal man's world anymore.

All that's well and good, our team grows to five people, we get on fine, but then things start going south. See, our team is all very anti-drug, they only bring bad things, and we thought our Boss (???M) was too, but there's been evidence of a drug trade continuing to happen in our territory despite all routes it could come in from being closely monitored and none showing evidence of that stuff or anything out of the ordinary for that matter.

Now that's bad, but things continue to take a dive. Going to start referring to people by letters here to make things more concise than just saying "that guy", so the man who got me out of prison and leads our group (B), brings on in a new guy (calling him G, 15M). He passed our Capo's test so I can't complain, but this kid has something about him that puts me off, a confidence I don't think I've seen in anyone before.

Not long after he joins word gets out our Capo has apparently killed himself, and B gives us all a mission: Recover our fallen capo's fortune. Simple enough right? We get attacked on our way there, just some thugs after the treasure, nothing huge. Once we reach our destination, we receive more information, a mission straight from the Boss and B getting promoted to Capo.

The mission was to deliver the Boss's daughter to him, lay down our lives should we have to as long as it means she makes it to him in one piece. The girl's fine, whatever, she's a little snotty but we gotta follow Boss's orders, right?

So we begin our several day journey, following random clues left out for us, like a treasure hunt except there's an assassin squad out for the girl's head and we just keep managing to run into them at every turn. A few close calls with death later, we wind up at the final location. Only one of us was allowed to bring the girl to her dad, the rest of us were to stay in one spot, I assume for privacy reasons. G offered to go but B ended up being the one to go with her.

At this point I'd thought we were finally done with all this, it had been a very VERY long week and I was tired of having to deal with the threats lurking on every corner all for this girl we barely knew. So imagine my confusion and annoyance when B comes back to us, battered and beaten, with the girl unconscious by his side.

Something had clearly gone wrong, but when I learned it was B who had caused it to go south I was. God I don't even know. He's always been a smart man, always sure in his ways, it's why I went with him when we first met. It's why I stayed by his side for so long. But he betrayed the Boss. It was, still is, utterly unthinkable to me.

Apparently Boss wanted the girl delivered to him to kill her himself, something about someone with his image running around rubbed him the wrong way. B had decided to save her and rebel, going on his own mission to take down the Boss. He made it very clear how dangerous what he had just done was, and that should we continue to follow him we would be putting ourselves in the path of a warhead.

I tried, so hard, to reason with him, convince him to give the girl back and apologize, to see how foolish he was acting. One of the other members agreed that what he was doing was insane, but.. He followed it up by walking over to him and joining him in the boat we came in on. One by one the team all joined B in that boat that would take them on a path to fight one of the most powerful men of the modern day and surely die because of it.

They left me and one other member (17M) standing by the water. The kid had asked B if he should join, B had strictly advised against it for our own safety, but the kid went and joined them anyway, even after they left him in his moment of hesitation. I know I was right in my choice, I can't just betray the organization like that for someone I barely know, and B had said to not come, right? But I'm not sure what exactly to feel about it. I feel betrayed despite making that choice myself... So, AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality #suicide mention

[ano-kata]

A little thought

One thought I’ve had for years now was how even though Rei showed interest in meeting professor Agasa and showed clear interest in his inventions, they just never met face to face. Even in the cases that would involve Rei and the Shonen Tanteidan, professor Agasa tends to be curiously absent. It’s not like having a Shonen Tanteidan case without the professor is exactly rare, but when it comes to Rei, it’s more of a pattern.

It makes me think that something would just snap if those two met face to face. The fact that sensei is delaying such a seemingly harmless meeting makes me think the moment they do meet will reveal some kind of plot twist.

My mind has wandered to many possibilities, especially considering that unlike Rei, professor Agasa is not exactly unnaturally interested in him.

- Maybe during his search for Elena, Rei did contact professor Agasa as a fellow scientist and they did meet in the past. Probably a significant meeting to Rei but not so significant to the professor.

- Maybe it’s Fusae Campbell related. Another half japanese with naturally blond hair. She maybe related to Rei and she talked to him about the nice Agasa who was the anti-bully and told her that having a naturally blond hair was beautiful. That remark may somehow reached Rei who was canonically having the same struggle as Fusae and maybe the innocent comment little Hiroshi made left a strong impression. Like he got curious about that kid who portrayed Rei’s childhood setback as something positive. I’m more lenient towards this to be honest.

- Maybe Rei as a PSB officer knows something about professor Agasa that will change our perception of him. Not that he’s evil or anything, but maybe something about his family. Or something even Agasa himself knows but doesn’t know it’s true meaning or value.

I’ll just be waiting here for the moment those two finally end up meeting one another because at the moment, Aoyama-sensei seems to go out of his way to avoid them meeting.

#Detective Conan #Agasa Hiroshi #Furuya Rei