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#but then they became more and more ridiculous and. well.
zepskies · 18 hours
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Take Me Home - Part 6
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Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 
AN: Get ready for a rollercoaster of emotions…
Word Count: 4.6K
Tags/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, tinge of spice~
❤️ Series Masterlist
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“Michael?! What are you doing here?” you asked. 
He stood there with determination set across his face.
“We really need to talk.”
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“We already did! Just leave me the hell alone,” you said. If your day hadn’t been long already, you knew it was about to be even longer. 
Because just as you began to close the door, Michael slapped a hand on the center of it and pushed his way into your apartment.
You gasped and had to back up a couple of steps. “What are you doing?”
“Just hear me out, and then I’ll leave,” Michael said, staring down into your eyes. “That’s all I want.”
He pushed the door closed behind him, but it swung open, just a crack. In his heated state, he hadn’t even noticed. Neither did you. You stepped back further into the center of the living room and crossed your arms with an angry frown. 
“I don’t care!” you snapped. Your patience quota for the day had run out a long time ago. “I just want to be done. Don’t you get that?”
“I know,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. He looked tired as hell; like he hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks. Now in the light of day and not a dusky bar, you could see the darkness under his eyes and the stubble on his cheeks, though he was usually clean-shaven. 
“I know and I’m sorry. I hurt you badly, and I never even told you why,” he said.
You tilted your head in contemplation. Because he was right. For all these months, you’d been so incensed at the bare facts of what he’d done, you’d never looked too deeply into the why.
The one time you’d asked him (while throwing his clothes and possessions out of your shared apartment at the time), he’d never given you a good answer.
“Okay, fine. Why did you do it then?” you asked. “Why did you betray me in the worst way possible, and still try to marry me?”
Michael sighed, his shoulders sinking. “The truth?”
That sparked your anger once more.
“No, keep lying to me like you’ve done from the very start!” you retorted.
“It wasn’t from the start!” he barked back. “It was around six months in, when we were dating. You and I had argued about something stupid. Kate came over to talk it out with me…just to talk. I swear to God. But we were drinking and…”
You let out a sigh, casting your gaze upwards. You really didn’t think you wanted to hear this after all. Michael earned your attention back though, when he took a step forward into your orbit.
“She got pregnant,” he admitted.
Your mouth fell open as your breath left your lungs. Your hands went to your temples in disbelief, and you made a sound of pure shock and distress.
“But she lost the baby early on,” he said. “She was devastated. I was too, but…I tried to help her through it. And it became this, this thing that wouldn’t let go of me. She wouldn’t let me go.”
You shook your head as furious tears welled up in your eyes. This was just too ridiculous and upsetting to compute. You didn’t even recognize the man that was standing in front of you anymore.
How could he blame Kate for what they’d done to you, and for clinging to him after losing her baby? How could he keep that from you, even when he asked you to marry him?
And how could he tell you all of this now and expect you to forgive him?
You didn’t have the words, but you held out a hand against him when he tried to take another step toward you.
“I know I fucked up. I fucked everything up. But you don’t have to come all the way here to run away,” he said. “Your parents miss you. Our friends…they all love you. And most of them rightly don’t want anything to do with me.”
He looked down then, with shame coloring his features. 
Through your tears and the struggle of collecting yourself, you studied him closely with your arms crossed.
You’d known Michael for several years. Even considering the months you two had been apart, you knew he was the same—stubborn and hot-headed and full of audacity as ever. But…he also seemed genuinely remorseful. And desperate.
“If you give me one more chance, I promise I won’t mess it up again. I’ll be the man you deserve,” he said, taking your hand and uncrossing your arms in the process. “Believe it or not, I took a week off without pay, just to be here and get a chance to say this to you: I love you. I love you. And I know now that it’s meant to be you.”
You hesitated, and even made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. They were a crisp dark blue, and yet, not the warm green you’d come to crave. You shook your head.  
“I get it, Michael. I really do…but I can’t do this anymore,” you said. “It’s too damn much.”
You began to slip your hand out of his, but he held you a fraction tighter. He frowned. 
“Are you seeing someone? Is it that guy from the other night? That cop?” Michael asked. 
“Stop it,” you warned in anger. Beau was part of the reason your heart held pain, but it wasn’t the main reason you wanted to be done with Michael Hadley.
You tried to twist your wrist out of his grip. He wouldn’t let you, instead, trying to bring you closer. 
“That’s not an answer,” he said in frustration. “Please, we can start over—”
“Let go!” you demanded. You yanked your hand out of his, and the rest came on instinct. 
Your slap was loud against his cheek, and it made your hand sting too. You also pushed him hard in the chest. Michael was forced to step back while holding his reddening face. He looked back at you in disbelief. 
You were breathing hard, shocked even at yourself. You’d never done that before in your life, but then again, never had you felt the panic of a man holding you against your will. 
Michael’s brows furrowed. He called to you in a pleading tone, and he reached for your arm to placate you.
You quickly stepped back again on reflex. Your heel tripped on the tile floor and you gasped as you felt yourself careening back…onto the glass coffee table behind you.
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After putting his investigation of Avery to bed for the night, Beau felt drained on all counts.
He punctuated the end of his day by calling to check up on Frank Davis, the local firehouse chief, and the father of one of the firefighters who was killed a few months back. Brett, one of the other victims, had carried the guilt of his best friend’s death to his grave. 
Inevitably, that case brought up old memories for Beau. It also reminded him of you, and the situation with your firefighter ex-boyfriend. ‘Scuse me, ex-fiancé.
He also felt bad about how things ended with you in his office. He knew he wasn’t being fair to you. 
As his daughter reminded him the other night, if he’d just been a bit more “open” and honest, maybe he could’ve saved his marriage.
Now with Michael likely trailing you, he didn’t want you to feel like you couldn’t come to him, or even call him for that matter.
He seemed to be a bit of a hothead too, Beau thought. While he climbed into his truck and peeled out of the station, he debated stopping by to see you. Carla and Emily wouldn’t be getting over to his place for a couple of hours. That did give him some time. 
And when it came down to it, was he a man, or was he a coward?
He knew it wouldn’t sit right with him if he didn’t try to make this right, in whatever small way.
So with that decision made in his mind, he drove over to your apartment complex. When he parked in one of the guest spots, he noticed another one occupied by a rental car, a gray sedan.
A small tingling of unease buzzed in the back of his mind. Beau approached your building, went inside, and started up the stairs. When he began to hear raised voices, a man and a woman who sounded too much like you, that gut feeling became a red hot alarm making his chest tighten.
He took the stairs nearly two at a time to get up to the second floor, where he saw that the door to your apartment unit was cracked open. He could hear glass shattering from inside.
He sprinted down the hall, and with a hand on his gun at his belt, he swung the door open.
The first thing he saw was Michael’s tall frame standing over you, frozen in shock. You were lying on your side amidst a shattered coffee table, fallen through the wooden frame. There was glass everywhere and underneath you, with magazines and pictures and other knickknacks strewn across the floor.
“What the hell’s going on here?!” Beau barked out.
Michael had turned at the sound of the door banging open. He met the sheriff with wide eyes. Beau’s expression set with a grim, angry frown. Though he willed himself to hold his temper in check, he immediately stepped forward and grabbed Michael’s shoulder, pushing him back and creating space between him and you.
“Step back,” the sheriff snapped.
“Beau,” you uttered in disbelief. You had tears in your eyes at the sight of him.
“Hey, darlin’,” said Beau. His voice was still rough, but more gentle for you. He knelt down at your side and carefully wrapped an arm around your waist to help lift you off the glass.
“You okay?” he asked you.
“Y-Yeah.” Though you raised one of your hands from the ground and blanched at the sight of a sizable piece of glass embedded in your palm. Beau’s lips flattened into a line.
He paused for a moment, turning his head back towards Michael.
“Stay exactly where you are,” he ordered, in a tone that boded no argument.
And Michael offered none. He stood there with furrowed brows. He even looked on at you in worry and frustration, knowing he couldn’t help you. He could only watch the sheriff make slow movements to help you out of the glass.
“Okay, slow for me,” Beau said. He spoke to you in low, calming tones whenever you made a sound of pain. He hooked an arm under your knees and lifted you out of the coffee table’s remains.
“Easy, I gotcha,” he murmured, helping you sit on the couch. You folded your legs off to the side, so you weren’t continuing to step in the glass on bare feet. Besides your right palm, your arm and right thigh had a few bleeding cuts of various degrees.  
After making a short glance at a still concerned Michael, Beau turned to you.
“Did he push you?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t fucking push her!” Michael said. 
“He didn’t,” you confirmed. “But he did shove his way into my apartment.”
Beau’s jaw tightened. He looked back at Michael, and his gaze demanded an answer. 
“I just—I just wanted to talk! Obviously I didn’t mean for this. Goddamn it,” Michael said, wiping a frustrated hand over his face. “Are you okay?”
You sighed. Beau set a hand on your shoulder. 
“Do you want to press charges for trespassing?” Beau asked you.
“Oh, come on!” Michael exclaimed. Beau pointed at him with a hard stare.
“You pipe the hell down,” he said tersely. “And don’t you move a damn inch. Because if you do, so help me, it’ll just about make my day.”
He flashed the other man a look at the handcuffs (and the gun) on his belt.
Beau then returned his attention to you. You were attempting to pick the glass out of your hand. He stilled your movements with a gentle hand on your wrist. 
“Hey, hey, wait on that for me, okay?” he asked. You looked up at him tiredly. 
“It’s okay. Just let him go,” you said. You shifted your gaze to Michael. “Go back to Chicago, for real this time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Michael’s face became disheartened, but his eyes fell to your injured hand. Blood was streaming all the way down your forearm and dripping on the tile floor, along with the other smears of blood amongst glass. 
He knew what he’d done. It made him even more sick with himself.
He turned to leave.
You watched him go, and you could no longer hold in your quiet tears. It wasn’t for him leaving. You just couldn’t believe it had all come to this. 
Beau lightly squeezed your shoulder. 
“Hey, I’ll be right back, okay?” he said. “Do me a favor and don’t move.”
“Okay,” you said, in an uncharacteristically small voice.
Beau tried to give you a reassuring smile. He gave into the desire to sweep a stray lock of hair away from your eyes, allowing him to brush your cheek with his fingers. You gave him a small smile back, despite your watery eyes.
Beau nodded and got up from the couch. He made swift strides out of the apartment, making sure to close the door behind him. He then hastened down the hall and the stairs to catch up with Michael in the parking lot. Beau was hot on his trail to the rental car.
“Hey!” he called out.
Michael paused in his gait. He turned to face the sheriff, sporting a look of frustration.
“What?” he shot back.
“You better take her warning for the gift it is,” Beau said. He closed the distance between him and Michael, but resisted the urge to grab the other man and hurl him against the car.
“It’s time for you to go home,” Beau said. “I don’t want to see you in town. I don’t want to hear that you’re following her around or blowing up her phone. Do you hear me?”
Michael stood straighter, his jaw working in anger.
“Are you threatening me, Sheriff?” he asked.
“No. I’m thinking you’ll be smart enough to take some friendly advice,” Beau said, but his eyes were sharp. “If I have to threaten you, then we really will have a problem.”
Michael was younger, leaner, probably faster, but Beau edged him out by a couple of inches, on both height and build.
“Just let her get on with her life,” said Beau.
Fortunately, the standoff didn’t last long.
Michael’s anger soon relented, letting the guilt and shame shine through.
“Make sure she’s okay,” he said. “Tell her…that I’m sorry.”
Then he turned and walked away. Beau watched him get into his car and leave the premises.
It wasn’t until the rumble of the engine faded away that Beau released the clenched fists at his sides. He pivoted slowly on his heel and made his way back up to your apartment.
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And your door was locked.
On one hand, he understood your fears. On the other hand, he’d asked you not to move from the couch.
“Who is it?” you asked, after he knocked.
“It’s just me, don’t worry,” Beau answered. You opened the door with your good hand and let him in, while holding up your bloody one with a bunch of crumpled gauze and medical tape hanging down your arm. It looked like you got the glass shard out, but you were struggling on the “wrapping it up” part.
“Oh, sweetheart, I asked you to wait for me,” he said. His brows furrowed as he took your wrist and elbow to steady you.
“Yeah, well, I got impatient,” you replied, but your attempt at a smile lightened him too. 
Beau followed you to the kitchen sink and grasped your hand carefully. You’d already cleaned and sterilized the wound, so all he had to do was wrap it for you with some gauze and medical tape. 
“This is kind of deep. You might wanna go to the ER,” he said. “I could take you.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s really not that deep,” you replied.
“You sure?” Beau asked, frowning at you. “How you doin’? You okay?”
Your face had been tight with pain while he tried to get the wrapping right with deft hands. At his questioning, you softened with a wry smile. 
“I’m fine, more or less,” you said. “But…how…why were you here to begin with? How’d you know I was in trouble?”
Beau met your gaze for a moment. He was able to delay answering your question until he finished wrapping your hand. Afterwards, he sighed.
“I came to apologize,” he admitted. “But first, can I help you clean up around here? You just sit and relax. I’ll sweep up all this glass and mop the floor.”
You let out a long breath, your shoulders sinking. “Oh, Beau, don’t. You don’t have to do all that.”
“But see, I actually want to,” he said, giving you one of those grins you’ve come to know and expect. You couldn’t help but smile back.
“Okay.”
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A thorough sweep, vacuum, and mopping, then a couple of cracked open beers and an order of Chinese later (plus cleaning and patching up the rest of your cuts), Beau sat next to you at the dining table and officially made his apology.
“I’m sorry for how things turned out today at the precinct,” he said.
You shook your head. You’d had some time to think about all of that, and there were things you could’ve handled better too.
“Beau, look. I get it,” you said. “You’re dealing with a lot at work, with Carla and Emily too, and…really, we haven’t known each other all that long. It wasn’t fair of me to expect you to open up on something that clearly still hurts you. Especially in the middle of your office.”
Beau let out a breath through his nose. He smiled and laid a gentle hand over your uninjured one, earning your widened gaze.
“You’re a sweetheart for that, but the truth is, you had a point today,” he said. “I’m a difficult man to know. It’s a flaw of mine that my ex-wife has pointed out several times. And even my daughter. Sometimes she looks at me like she can’t understand me.”
You bit the inside of your lip. You debated asking the question you wanted to ask. With his hand over yours, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand, you were able to gather your courage.
“Does it have something to do with the reason you were in grief counseling?” you asked. “About your partner on the job?”
Beau nodded, his smile fading. “Yeah, it does. It has a lot to do with Randy.”
He took a moment, but you gave him the time he needed to find his words. Eventually he began to explain to you what happened in Houston.
How he’d been an upper-level officer dealing with a narcotics case. His partner, Randy Santos, had volunteered to infiltrate a drug cartel undercover. He stayed in the field for a few months longer than protocol, but he was so close, he’d claimed. One bust, and they could arrest the kingpin. The entire cartel would crumble.
Beau had backed him up with the Chief, against his better judgment. When the time came that Randy had helped arrange a drug deal, Beau was the one leading the squad on the bust.
“It went south so fast,” he said.
And he paused in his story for a moment. His eyes were far away, lost in memories.
You squeezed his hand over yours to bring him back. He met your gaze.
“When it got down to it, I had two choices,” he said. “Take out the boss, or take out the guy right in front of me, Dante. Now, Dante had his back turned. He couldn’t see me. Would’ve been fish in a barrel…but I went for the head of the snake. I shot the kingpin. I didn’t realize that Dante had already burned Randy. Knew he was a cop.”
Beau met your gaze then. “Dante shot Randy in the head, point blank.”
Your mouth fell open in disheartened shock. Beau took a long sip of his beer, wishing it was whiskey.
“I saw it all…in slow motion. Just like the movies,” he said. “I see it almost every night, without fail.”
You shook your head helplessly. “Beau. It’s not—”
“Not my fault?” Beau gave you a sad smile. “Oh, but it was. Nothing else to it. Bad leadership. bad police work. Bad friend.”
He continued to drink his beer.
“And I checked out,” he said. “My wife and daughter paid the price of my absence. Picking myself off the bottom of whatever crusty bar would have me that night. Refusing to go to counseling. Generally making an ass of myself.”
You covered his hand with your bandaged one. It got him to look at you and forget his beer for a moment.
“It was a hard call,” you said. “Anyone could’ve made the same one you did.”
“Yeah. And it got my best friend killed,” Beau said. “His wife, his ten-year-old boy, his parents. They’ll never be the same because I messed up. I can’t abide that.” 
He sucked in an unsteady breath. “It still…sometimes I wake out of a dead sleep, and I see his face. I see the body they brought back.”
His eyes were red and shining. The emotion in his voice choked you up as well, making your eyes sting. 
You raised a hand to touch his cheek, your thumb drifting tenderly across his chin. 
“You’re not a difficult man to know,” you said. A tear found its way down your cheek, and then another. You didn’t bother to wipe them away. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you care. About your team, your family, everyone…even messy, accident-prone women.”
You gave him a smile at the last bit. He was able to give you one back, through his own unsteady breath.
“Especially those,” he agreed. Your hand moved down to his shoulder. 
“And you also like to eat. A lot,” you quipped. “I think you’ve got about three stomachs.”
“Probably four, realistically,” he said with a tearful laugh. He wiped at his face with both hands. You waited for him to meet your gaze again before you continued.  
“You’re also an old-fashioned cowboy,” you said, with a brighter smile. Your hand slid down, this time to his chest, over his heart. “But you’re a good man, Beau. That, I knew from the very beginning.”
Beau clasped your hand where it lay on his chest, almost on reflex. He was sure you could feel his heart tripping up, double timing. He reached out for your cheek, guiding your face up to his. He leaned over slowly, giving you time to say no, whether with words or with actions.
But your eyes, though still a bit shiny from tears, were nothing but beautifully welcoming. So he took a shot. He began to cross the distance between your lips and his.
And his phone buzzed on the table, making both of you jolt. 
It was just a text message. Frowning, Beau looked over and read the preview. When he saw Emily’s name, he cursed under his breath. He reached for his phone and opened up the message.
Hey, where are you?
“Shit,” he said. “Emily’s been staying with me all week and Carla’s joining us tonight, to be safe. They’re there already, asking where I am.”
You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed beyond measure, but you nodded.
“Then you should go,” you said.
You squeezed his hand before you released him. Beau wasn’t happy about it either, but he did the same. He helped you clean up the dining table and gathered up his wallet and keys. You walked him over to the front door, where Beau debated how he should leave this.
The door was open, literally and figuratively as you leaned against its frame. You couldn’t hide your unease. You didn’t know where this left the two of you either.
Beau sighed and propped a curled finger under your chin, earning your gaze.
“I need to settle some things. After…” he trailed. You nodded at what he was trying to say.
“When Carla and Emily have stability again, we can talk,” you finished for him. “I’ll be here.” 
He looked at you in wonder. 
“You’ll really wait for that?” he asked. His brows creased, and he truly marveled at your patience with him. “You know you don’t have to.”
A smile curved your lips. “Something tells me you’re worth waiting for, Sheriff Arlen.”
Beau grinned at you fondly. He cupped the side of your face and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
“Well, thank God for that,” he said. “Really, thank you…”
Lord help him, but he couldn’t help himself. He finally crossed the distance and kissed you.
Your chest rose with your breath, but when your eyes fell shut, you couldn’t help but melt against him. You gripped the front of his buttoned-down shirt for stability while his fingers tangled in your hair. It all grew with heat when he tilted his head, tasting you deeper with each new kiss.
He pressed you into the doorframe, trapping your body with his. You held onto him like a lifeline.
While his hands drifted down your back and rested on your hips, bunching the material of your pretty yellow sundress, you twined your arms around his neck, pulling him flush against you. He felt your every curve, soft breasts and thighs and sweet sighs.
He released a sound of pleasure, deep in his throat. His lips veered away from yours to burn a slow trail down to your neck. He was satisfied by the way you moaned and struggled to catch your breath at his ministrations.
Your fingers wound up sweeping through his hair. It both soothed and aroused him, somehow. But Beau knew if he didn’t stop here, he wouldn’t be able to again.
He laid one last kiss under your ear that hinted with teeth, making you shudder. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours. You two breathed together for a moment, just existing here, hearts racing.
“I gotta go,” he said. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
You nodded, biting your lip. He pulled back further and thumbed at your lower lip. 
“Don’t do that, or I just might have to go back on my word,” he said, giving you a smirk.
You smiled in amusement. “Promise?”
Beau chuckled. He stole one more heated kiss before he withdrew from you, his hand lingering on your cheek. Heaving a sigh, you turned him around by his broad shoulders and reluctantly sent him on his way. 
Halfway down the hall, he slowed to look back at you. Seeing you leaning against your door, still catching your breath, all hot and bothered…it nearly broke his resolve.
“Nope,” he muttered.
He shook his head and forced himself to keep walking until he hit the stairwell for the umpteenth time today. 
He would stop three more times on the way to his car before he actually left your building.
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AN: 😘 So, how'd you like the official "end" of Michael Hadley? And finally, finally, we get to a first kiss. In Part 7, we enter some even deeper waters...
Next Time:
“I’m actually glad you’re here,” she said. “I’ve kinda got a question for you.”
“Kinda?” you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. “What’s on your mind, honey?”
Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.
“It’s about my dad,” she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.
“Okay,” you nodded.
Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.
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Ko-Fi Me ☕
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forestdeath1 · 3 days
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Magnum Opus or Great Work: Alchemical Codes in "Harry Potter"
"I've never wanted to be a witch, but an alchemist, now that's a different matter. To invent this wizard world, I've learned a ridiculous amount about alchemy." JKR. By the way, it seems JKR never became an alchemist because you can't be that evil an alchemist, Joanne. Something went wrong.
The first part about Lily and James
Voldemort – an occult alchemist, Lucifer. Snape – a Seeker who chose the wrong Path. Dumbledore – Keeper of the Tower. Hermione – Hermes Trismegistus. Harry, Hermione and Ron – the three principles for creating the Philosopher's Stone.
Alchemy is the universal path of spiritual transformation. In a literal sense, universal, this code is practically everywhere–from ancient myths and the Bible to the philosophy of Nietzsche (though in his understanding) and Jung's books. Harry Potter himself is a complete alchemist's path, but there's also a well-displayed second path–the path of the occult alchemist.
True alchemy tells us that God is in everything, like a seed present in every person. Through alchemical transformation, a person can be reborn – and become golden, divine, immortal.
Many famous people were fascinated by these ideas – from Newton to Goethe, from Walter to Mozart. Yes, Walter and Mozart were freemasons, but freemasonry is built on the Magnum Opus, it's its foundation. Who has seen the opera The Magic Flute? A completely masonic opera: the surface layer was for the people, and the deeper layer – for the spiritual elite of that time. In this opera, the power of love transforms people and makes them divine. Oh, it seems to resemble Harry Potter, hehe... Harry Potter also has two layers – one as a fairytale about a wizard for teenagers, the other – for those who can "feel" the symbols, even without knowing them.
Each symbol can be interpreted in several ways, that's the complexity of alchemical symbolism. For example, Albus Dumbledore. He symbolizes (in JKR's own words) Spirit ( he's white), and Rubeus Hagrid – Soul (red) – and they're both like two fatherly figures for Harry, distant and warm, judicious and understanding. But all this is at the character level. Dumbledore has other meanings – much more important ones. As I've said before, the symbolic level and the character level are different levels. In interpreting symbols, you don't need to interpret every line, you need to take the context as a whole. Characters operate on one level, symbols – on another.
So, alchemy is an extension of the universal idea – to be reborn, you need to "die." Like Jesus died on the cross, Orpheus on the banks of the River Gebre, and Osiris in the coffin prepared by Typhon, in alchemy, until all the elements (parts of the old personality) die, the work cannot be completed.
The stages of this alchemical process can be traced in the lives of almost all world "heroes" and in the mythology and legends of many cultures. This is a universal code.
“Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again” John 3:3
Alchemy proclaims that without decomposition, the Great Work cannot be accomplished.
The past Self dies on the cross and in the retorts and becomes black during decomposition. The new Self rises from hell, like a phoenix. The phoenix is a pure alchemical symbol.
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This is the creation of the Philosopher's Stone.
It is symbolically described in "The Chymical Wedding of Christian Rosenkreutz". The book presents an allegorical story divided into "Seven Days" or "Seven Journeys," which tells how its author, Christian Rosenkreutz, was invited to a castle full of wonders to help with the "Chymical Wedding" of the king and queen. Harry also receives a letter in a storm (like Rosenkreutz) and goes to the castle for 7 years, chooses one of the four paths (Gryffindor), and so on.
Alchemists called the creation of the Philosopher's Stone the Great Work – Opus Magnum. This process consisted of three stages: decomposition (nigredo), rebirth (albedo), and final perfection (rubedo). Each of these stages corresponded to a specific colour: black, white and red.
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Nigredo. Albedo. Rubedo.
In Harry Potter, these stages correspond to Sirius Black, Albus (white) Dumbledore, and Rubeus (red) Hagrid. The end of each stage is marked by their death. In the seventh book, it's Hagrid who carries the "dead" Harry.
There is a fundamental difference between "true alchemists" and "occult alchemist."
Tom Riddle is an occult alchemist. For him, the Great Work is also self-creation, but what kind? For him, it is complete mastery of his abilities and his future, and especially the complete liberation of his will.
Tom is a will, but his will not submissive to the will of God. It's a Luciferian will. The will of a fallen angel who began to oppose his own free will to the influence of Divine Love-Light. Instead, he sought and loved his own power outside Divinity, in himself.
"Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heaven" John Milton, "Paradise Lost"
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Baphomet, or the Sabbatic Goat, drawing by Eliphas Levi, on its hands are inscriptions "Solve et Coagula." This is an alchemical principle. JKR, by the way, also has such a tattoo.
In occultism, it is believed that magic is control of one's will, and a will can control matter. After all, what did his followers choose for their motto? Magic is Might. Harry never defeated Voldemort with such magic. Because he doesn't need it.
What does Tom boast about? Tom boasts that he has mastered the deepest depths of dark magic. He went so far in it as no one before. Dark magic requires an iron will, and Tom achieved incredible heights in it. He even achieved immortality in this material universe, literally cursing his soul! Only Tom doesn't understand that Dumbledore (a true alchemist) is not interested in all this. Because true immortality is not there. True transformation is not there. Because their paths are completely different – Dumbledore is going to the "God and divine immortality," and Tom is going to "material immortality."
In general, fans of occult alchemy, the Left-Hand Path, and Nietzschean philosophy probably consider Tom a much more interesting character because here he is – the king of matter, a man of incredible will and strength who destroys the slave Christian morality and proclaims that God is dead, long live the Übermensch (homo superior)! (Nietzsche would have been proud of him…) By the way, Bellatrix is most likely symbolically – Lilith, Adam's first wife according to Kabbalistic apocrypha, who rebelled against Adam. God created them equal, and Adam wanted to have power over Lilith... In short, Lilith is the first feminist in human history, hehe.
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The Fallen Angel by Alexandre Cabanel. Lilith.
In short, Tom Riddle is such an adept of broken alchemy. Where Tom is his own personal will, Harry is Faith and the will of the Spirit. Harry is also very strong-willed, but his will is different, it's not individualistic. It's a will of sacrifice, a will of love, a will of mercy, a will of trust. The main theme of the seventh book is a crisis of faith. And what kind of will does one need to show to continue the quest for Horcruxes and not go for the Deathly Hallows? Simply put, the will of Harry and Tom is completely different.
And Tom will never understand this. He's an individualist. He's a Nietzschean Übermensch. He's reached the limits of human capabilities. But for what? From dust you are and to dust you shall return, Tom...
Severus Snape — a Seaker who chose the wrong Path
And Snape, by the way, initially turns away from Lily (Lily is love of God, represented in the world). Because he's obsessed with becoming dark magic, his ego and desire for secret knowledge and being proud are very great.
Btw, Lily is a mudblood. In the sense that God is not in shining beautiful armor. This is Lucifer's mask – to be pure, to shine, to sparkle. But the real God can be found by seeking, under the feet of the poorest and "dirtiest" person. After all, for God, everyone is equal. It's the Devil who divides.
And pure-bloods, for example, the Blacks, are "false purity." Luciferian purity. Material purity, purity of shining gold. It's division. And where there's division – there's the Devil.
In short, Snape turns away from Lily because this path is difficult, he doesn't understand how to approach her, he already uses dark magic, has a lot of knowledge, and delves into various secrets, and shows what "bad" paths other seekers (the Marauders) take... (The seeker is not my term, it's from the Rosicrucian manifesto, alchemists call themselves seekers) But Lily still refuses to unite Spirit and Soul. And he calls her a "mudblood," insulting her. For Lily, this is a sign that this soul is almost lost. And there's no sincere regret in him when he asks for forgiveness. He asks her to forgive him, but his soul is still on the old Path. Lily isn't angry with him, it's not about anger or offense. Snape's soul is almost lost at this moment, closed to the divine spark and love. After all, for love to enter your heart, you first need to open yourself to it.
Only when Snape sees true face of Tom's "alchemy," in which Tom is ready to kill Love, the divine spark, essentially kill God in the souls of all people, then Snape, as a real Seeker, realizes that he's going the wrong way... And he runs to the main Alchemist, Dumbledore, to ask to preserve this love, this manifestation of God on earth.
But you can't preserve it without preserving the seeker of the right Path in your soul (James) and without preserving the possibility of the emergence of the transformed soul (Harry).
This is a very important moment, not only because you can't kill people in principle. Dumbledore literally tells him that you can't save love of God, the divine spark in your soul, if you kill in yourself the one who reaches out to God (the deer) and if you kill the POSSIBILITY of becoming this new transformed soul (Harry).
For Snape, this becomes a turning point, and he decides to switch sides to true alchemy. Dumbledore asks in return for Snape's soul, but not in the sense that the Devil demands it, he asks for loyalty to the Path. Below I'll explain the symbolism of Dumbledore and what he means in terms of alchemical symbolism (I don’t think he is God).
Snape becomes loyal to Dumbledore. But Lily is killed, as is James. The world, despite the fact that Voldemort temporarily goes into hibernation (and the Savior is alive), plunges into despair. Sirius (as a divine symbol of light) is in captivity, Remus (a symbol of a seeker with a "good but not brave" soul) is somewhere wandering the world, and Harry lives very poorly with the Dursleys... Harry doesn't know any God, and the seeker in him is also "dead". And Voldemort will soon rise again, he's just gathering strength.
Harry's path is the path of returning to God through Mother of God (Theotokos). Because it is Mother of God who is the true Spirit. That's why he meets Lily only at the end of the seventh book, when he's almost completed the alchemical transformation. For Christians, this is heresy, but for alchemists, it's not. The Son and Mother of God are one whole. The Virgin Mary is part of the Trinity, because only through the spiritual unity of the Mother and the Son is the salvation of humanity possible.
And who does he meet her through? Through Snape. Who dedicated his entire life to transforming his Soul, merging it with the Spirit, ultimately coming to God.
He spent his whole life hating James, as a Seeker of a different kind, not like him—Snape always leaned a bit towards Nietzschean stories. And James always hated Dark Magic and all dark things (although this doesn't make the souls of this type much better, they can also be egocentric). Snape teaches Potions, he knows how to bottle up Love, Death and Luck... So much power, so much pride in this...
Recently, I reposted a very interesting post. Snape wanted to recover his soul, because he was guilty of Lily's death. A very beautiful meta, but I see a bit different alchemical meaning. His soul is broken not only because Lily partly died because of him. His soul is broken overall because of the Path he chose - that of an occult alchemist, and he remains a "spy" to the end of his days, playing two roles, constantly "here and there". He dies at the hands of his former master.
Snape takes Lily's letter because he needs Lily's love (like people wear crosses), while there isn't enough understanding of where to go (Dumbledore is already dead)
Snape always yearned for Lily. And Dumbledore asks for us, the readers: "After all this time?" And Snape answers for us "Always." You must love God always. And that is salvation for the soul.
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In general, Snape only understands towards the end that you cannot love Lily without Harry and even James. Only one Path leads to Lily - the same as James’s path. The path of Ego, pride, thirst for power, secret knowledge, occultism, malice, hatred must finally dissolve. Snape fully exposes himself to Harry, although he shouldn't have (he should only pass on information about death), revealing the good (and the bad) that he always hid. His revelation to him speaks of his complete acceptance. He shows him his soul, literally bowing his head to him - here I am, here is my soul, in some things I have no excuse, sometimes I have justification, but I've been seeking God, seeking love all my life.
Will you accept my wounded soul?
This is confession. The realest confession.
And Harry accepts. Of course, Harry accepts. He looks at him with Lily's eyes.
Because no matter how "bad" you are, if you truly love God in your soul, if you truly seek Him, there will always be a place for you in the City of God. Snape is the constantly replayed plot of the Prodigal Son's return.
At this moment, all the "black" in Snape dies – the nigredo. Tears - the white stage, purification – the albedo stage, purification. Blood – naturally, the red stage. The alchemical transformation for Snape is complete.
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(But geniuses from TikTok will still say that Harry shouldn't have named his son Albus Severus, because Snape was baaaad. Ofc he was bad sometimes, that's the point!)
Dumbledore is the embodied Path and Plan
As I mentioned before, Dumbledore asks for Snape's soul in return, but not in the sense that the Devil demands it, he asks for loyalty to the alchemical Path.
Dumbledore, as an alchemist, besides embodying the completion of the albedo stage for Harry with his death, is also the embodied Path. Dumbledore is the highest Guardian of the Tower, who watches over the Paths of others, he is the Man of Spirit, he is the Principle, he is the Master. What is the difference between Dumbledore and Lily? Lily is a more important symbol, she is like pure divine power, God = love, as in what all souls dissolve. Dumbledore, on the other hand, is the Guardian of the Path through which everyone must pass. In short, Lily is the answer to the question "where", and Dumbledore is the "how". And Dumbledore is just a man who also underwent his alchemical transformation and who can also succumb to temptation. But Dumbledore is not GOD, imo. To personify God in a book is too much (even for me, although I’m not religious at all). I don’t like the idea of him being God and... really, where? God is transcendent and pure divine love emanates from Lily that’s why she almost an empty canvas. Dumbledore is a principle. He is the answer to the question "HOW". That's why he asks to believe in him, believe in the ALCHEMICAL PATH AND PLAN. FOLLOW THIS PLAN TO THE END. Ascend the tower, as I once ascended it. After all, he lives up there in the tower. He observes.
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For Snape, Dumbledore is so important because Dumbledore is the Path, a new Path that he did not have. And Dumbledore's death is so important for everyone because now no one points them towards the Path. But they must find this Path within themselves. Because the answers are inside them. You cannot become a true Alchemist if you constantly rely on external help. It's time to see the Path independently.
"You must kill me."
There was a long silence, broken only by an odd clicking noise. Fawkes the phoenix was gnawing a bit of cuttlebone. (HP and DH)
After Dumbledore says that Snape must kill him, there is silence and a very clear symbol - the phoenix and the bone. It's time for their souls to go independently, to eat away all the old to come to rebirth. Meanwhile, they also need to save Draco, who, by "Lucifer's" order, is about to kill the Path (although you can't outplay God's plan...). And then Dumbledore reveals that Harry must die.
This shocks Snape. Like any alchemist on the Path. How so, to die? After all, we all do everything to become closer to God, to immortality, and you say – just die? What kind of Path is this?
"I thought…all these years…that we were protecting him for her. For Lily.”
After all, we were protecting Harry for Lily, because as I've already said, only through the spiritual unity of the Mother and the Son is the salvation of humanity possible. Snape is protecting the son for the mother, and Dumbledore wants to kill him? For what?
Simply put, Snape doesn't understand that no one can save Harry until he dies and is reborn. It's painful, but all heroes go through this path for rebirth.
Dumbledore knows that there is a "seed" of "evil" in Harry, as in any of us. After the fall, we all carry Luciferian part within us. This is the last thing that must die in Harry, and he himself must die for it.
No one promised that the path of the alchemist would be easy. It's understandable why not everyone loves Dumbledore, he seems too cold and manipulative, but there is no other way for Harry on the symbolic level.
The Great Work
There are three stages of the Great Work: decomposition (nigredo), purification (albedo) and ultimate perfection (rubedo). These stages for Harry culminate in the deaths of Sirius Black, Albus Dumbledore, and his own death, where he is carried out of the forest by Rubeus Hagrid.
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And the result of his alchemical work should be Rebis — essentially the alchemical philosopher's stone, an androgynous being. In the collection of dialogues attributed to Hermes Trismegistus, God is depicted as androgynous. (Hermes Trismegistus is essentially the one who created the corpus of Hermetic texts).
Rebis is the unity of opposites. Day and night, Man and Woman, Good and Evil, Light and Darkness. All is one. There is no division. The wholeness of God. After the fall, we are all divided. And after the alchemical transformation, we can finally become whole and find ourselves and God.
In the form of merged men and women, sometimes depicted as the Virgin Mary and Christ, because They are one whole. As I have already said, for many alchemists, the Virgin Mary is part of the Trinity because only through the spiritual unity of the Mother and the Son was the redemption of original sin made possible. As I have already said, although Harry suffers more for James (his father turned out not to be as ideal as he thought), Lily is the main symbol in "Harry Potter".
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The Nigredo stage literally means "blackness" - it signifies complete breakdown, decay, descent into the underworld, the trance of grief. It's a descent into the deepest fears, disbelief, denial, loss of self, anger, aggression. And through this - a return to the prima materia. This is what happens to Harry, "The Order of the Phoenix" is a very dark and depressing book, and with Sirius's death, this stage for Harry is completed. Sirius himself also undergoes transformations, but about this in the next part. The nigredo stage, during which a person's ego dissolves, is agonizing but necessary for further development. After the "I" meets its "shadow" and disintegrates into parts, it will need to be purified and recreated.
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Albedo ("whiteness") symbolizes purification, transition to another world, change of life priorities, awakening, enlightenment. In alchemy, the transition from nigredo to albedo is achieved through the process of washing. The whole sixth book is misty, "white", "wet". "Washing" (albutio, baptisma) directly leads to whiteness (albedo). Purification. It's also silver, a lunar state. In Harry Potter, there is a character named Luna, which means moon in Latin. In different parts of the books, Luna also symbolizes this stage. With Dumbledore's death this stage for Harry completed.
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Rubedo ("redness") - the final stage of the alchemical Great Work. The alchemist must establish a kind of sacrificial relationship with his inner essence. At the final stage, the so-called "alchemical marriage" takes place: the marriage of the Red King and the White Queen - Soul and Spirit. Harry (soul) and Lily (spirit) are united. With Hagrid carrying Harry this stage for Harry completed.
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Bu the way, the Golden Snitch is an alchemical symbol also.
Firstly, Harry's position is called the Seeker. Alchemists also called themselves that. Secondly, the winged disc is a very ancient symbol, meaning the sun (God) and immortality.
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The Snitch reveals to him the Resurrection Stone, and Harry "encounters" his main symbols, but the main one is Lily. It is her he asks not to leave him.
Harry's death here is read by everyone as the well-known plot of Christ's crucifixion. The path to this death is also a reference to the agony of Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane before the Crucifixion. After all, Harry also wanted to end up somewhere, but Hogwarts is his home, and he accepts his fate.
My Father! all things are possible for Thee: take this cup of suffering away from me: and yet not what I desire, but what Thou desirest. Mark 14:36
He wanted to be stopped, to be dragged back, to be sent back home... But he was home.
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Lily's Eyes
To be honest, I can assume that her green eyes was chosen at random. But what if they weren't? Her green eyes may seem illogical, as this is the colour of the snake, the colour of Slytherin, the colour of evil. But this is the occult Luciferian snake, the erroneous snake. Originally, green also dates back to Hermes Trismegistus – the god who gave the knowledge of alchemy. The most famous of the old hermetic-alchemical texts is inscribed on the "Emerald Tablet". According to legend, this document was left by Hermes Trismegistus on a plate of emerald in an Egyptian temple.
"The Emerald Tablet" is very important for alchemists." According to legend, a large emerald fell to the earth from Lucifer's head when he was cast out of heaven. From the same emerald that fell from the crown of the fallen Lucifer, angels made the Holy Grail (which is also the philosopher's stone, and the Snitch...). Emerald is a sacred green stone, and the heavenly divine world - the homeland of the emerald - a precious stone in which information about the heavenly homeland is encoded.
There is also the Ouroboros - a snake that devours its own tail - a symbol of infinity and immortality.
And the Snitch, which is a reflection of Hermes Trismegistus' staff (which has two battling snakes - two opposites, Spirit and Soul, Good and Evil and so on, and Hermes establishes unity between them with his staff).
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Occultists, of course, interpret these symbols in their own way.
Hermione is Hermes Trismegistus. Mercury. Ron — Sulphur. Harry— Salt.
Hermione (Ἑρμιόνη [hermi. ónɛː]) is a feminine given name derived from the Greek messenger god Hermes. As I said, Hermes Trismegistus is the main figure of Hermetic teaching, he is also the one who predicted the coming of the Savior (traditional Christianity should not be confused with Gnostic teachings, the Church has always been against Gnosticism). In addition, Hermes is Mercury, and that is knowledge. Hermes Trismegistus shares "secret knowledge" with the world, which forms the basis of many Gnostic directions - from alchemy to Kabbalah.
Hermione is a little alchemist, she shares knowledge. It is Hermione who insists on complete trust in Dumbledore, it is Hermione who often leads Harry in the right direction when Dumbledore is not around. It is through Dumbledore and Hermione that "moral lessons" are often sounded, which often seem completely out of place. Like when Dumbledore says that James would forgive Peter. At that moment, I always want to say, "Are you out of your mind?!" although I understand that it is described on a symbolic, not personal level.
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Mercury (Hermione), Sulphur (Ron), and Salt (Harry) were necessary in the alchemical transformation and were the main components. To create the philosopher's stone, all three elements had to be combined, and Harry is next to them throughout all the books.
Both Hermione and Ron are equally important in Harry's development.
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Mercury is the more fluid primary principle, more rational, the feminine principle, while Sulphur is dynamic, expansive, unstable, acidic, unifying, masculine, paternal, and fiery principle. Sulphur is emotional, it is desire and passionate impulse that motivates life. Sulphur is desire. And according to Jung's reflections, it can also be foul and dangerous. Complete transmutation depends on the correct application of this variable principle. Sulphur must be of quality for transmutation to occur. And Ron achieves this quality.
Also, in mystical alchemy, Sulphur is crystallized inspiration of Mercury (Mercury).
Mercury and Sulphur are simultaneously antagonists, like the male and female elements, but at the same time Sulphur is crystallized Mercury.
So I have always been and will always be for Romione! Hehe. They were made for each other!
And as for Salt - that's Harry. It's the body. Sometimes it is called earth and body, salt is the essential body (corpus).
Alchemists say that salt was the first substance created by fire, emanating from God. In salt, all creation is concentrated, in salt the beginning and the end of all things.
Salt is associated with the ultimate elevation of matter - with matter that has acquired consciousness, achieved through the unity of opposites, including the unity of fire and water, the unity of what is above and what is below. Salt is the ultimate Philosopher's Stone, representing transcendence and ultimate knowledge.
Thus, salt symbolizes consciousness (thoughts, feelings, material, etc.), which must be elevated through alchemical processes of dissolution and recrystallization. Well, that's Harry himself.
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Just love this stupid moment
Well, that's it, I think I've said everything, and from the next part, we can move on to the Marauders themselves :D
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roobylavender · 7 months
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(Really long ask ahead i’m sorry!) I think your thoughts on dick and his similarities vs differences to bruce are so interesting! Personally i’m wondering how much of NTT played an influence on this kind of characterization bc i’ve never fully finished ntt but i read like nearly all the pre-80s batman 1940 issues lol and dick very much was portrayed as more idealistic than bruce in some ways while more no-nonsense (? For lack of better word) in other ways, like when it comes to batman easing up a little on selina for romance reasons LOL. Though ofc dick totally turns into - well, a dick - in team books, as i grow older i find myself far more compelled by a potential story of an 18 yr old who seemed to have the whole weight of the world on his shoulders (by his own perception) and breaking under his own impractically strong sense of duty and sky-high expectations for others, then realizing as he grows older that it doesn’t have to be that way esp after seeing the perspectives of characters like kory, wally, joey, roy, etc. Like personally as someone who never really had a huge interest in NTT anyway, i’m surprised at how desperately people want to hold on to the characterization of dick when he was 18-19 and never letting him grow past that, like it’s so difficult for me to believe that at age 25 he would be the same uptight controlling kid that he was at 19. Maybe i’m biased though bc i was like one of those insufferable INTJ internet stereotypes as a teenager, and while that worldview did bring me achievements i’m proud of like the fact that i’m in med school rn studying what i love, i still know that at age 22 i have changed SO much from when i was 18 and i can’t imagine any reasonably mature or normally-functioning person (let alone someone high-functioning like dick) not doing the same lol. Especially since dick is the kind of person who would literally die if he’s not constantly growing and evolving past his faults bc of his insufferable perfectionism, idk how he’d be willfully blind to the negative effects of his worldview in early NTT and refuse to grow from there. He even has a quote that’s like “i’ve spent years as a student of my own behavior” which i always found highly encouraging bc i know he really does want to improve himself even at his worst. It reminds me of that Marcus Aurelius quote: “if someone can prove me wrong and show me my mistake in any thought or action, i shall gladly change. I seek the truth, which never harmed anyone; the harm is to persist in one’s own self-deception and ignorance.” But what are your thoughts? (Thank you for reading all this 🥹)
oh i absolutely agree! i cannot tell you how many times i think about the person i was a couple years ago and who i am now like i cringe so much omg.. maturity is an ever persistent process even if we don't recognize its effects immediately and it absolutely is crazy to think that anyone would remain in such a static state of mind for several years on end. esp when like you said dick is someone who wants to be better! so despite his several hypocrisies it is nonetheless in his best interests to look internally and analyze and evolve. and i feel like that very much could have happened had there been any actual segue between dick's breakup with kory and his re-entry into the batfam. i don't think there was much of a connection between these two sets of writers at all and so what you got is what felt like two very distinct parts of dick's life that didn't necessarily reveal a bridge point. so it's not entirely unrealistic that dick may grow to be the person (at least to some extent) that bat canon portrayed him to be in the years that followed but i certainly think as it stands it felt unearned and like all of his issues explored in ntt were conveniently swept to the side without any semblance of closure (albeit i do think some of these issues are addressed in outsiders '03 but in that dickheaded way that winick explores things generally. so i'm not sure it's the kind of closure people actually want). it's very sad and ig that's what people cling to more than anything. it's not that they're opposed to him growing to be a better person but that they're opposed to a version of dick who feels like he sprung out of nothing
#ironically enough i Do think dick going back to gotham after the kory breakup made sense#like when something that big happens in your life what are you going to do. seek the advice of the one person you look up to more than anyt#ing right. but marv wolfman complicated things by writing bruce the way he did so rather than bruce playing an active part#in guiding dick through some of his issues and mistakes he instead became dick's burden to bear through extensive post knightfall trauma#and i mean you all know i Love knightfall. i really do it gives me brainworms upon brainworms#but i wish there had been just one moment. like after it was all over. that bruce and dick actually got to talk and like#discuss dick's problems yknow#i get the feeling they didn't delve much when writing prodigal bc they had to set up the next arcs and stuff but it's like#come on. come on. they could've afforded it. if dick really had to come back to gotham for a temporary stint where he tried to find himself#than a proper conversation with bruce about what he was going through should have been a part of that#bc i do think working with bruce's new cavalry of three teen heroes (tim / steph / cass) would have borne wonderful opportunities#for dick to grow as a leader and peer considering his ridiculous expectations of others and how this would measure up against teenagers#but the problem is that bat canon decided he was going to magically gel with everyone bc he was emotionally more well adjusted than bruce#was. like ok. ok. whateverrrrrrrr#like idk it's so funny they were given a dick with a plethora of issues and instead of using any of that ammo they were like nah#we're going to make our lives harder and give him new problems manifested out of thin air. totally makes sense. bullseye#outbox
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drbtinglecannon · 2 years
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Yet another thing that sucks about TOH getting so much content cut, is that even though Alador is on the redemption track there is absolutely no time to show him giving the very important apologies to:
- Gus and Willow for helping get them expelled, which caused them each a whole slew of family problems at the time
- Willow again for helping force the big fallout between her and Amity, compounded by the pressure put on Amity that lead to her and her new friends to bully Willow for years (not that he'd know that part but it was a direct cause)
- Ed & Em for being taken away during the actual divorce scene so now he has to tell them after the fact "Hey btw your mom and I split. Uh, I guess I have full custody though because she left. If you're ok with that"
- Ed Em & Amity in general for his neglect, even if there is explanation and it was genuinely not his call or intention, he needs to make it clear it was wrong, he's sorry, and he'll be more involved from now on
- All the kids in general for his abomatons attacking Hexside, even if he wasn't controlling them or fully aware of how they were being used, he unfortunately designed & made them
- King cuz while King said the venting was ok, he is a little kid so it's a bit inappropriate. Not to mention embarrassing in hindsight, like "thank you for your help giving me the push I needed but also please don't tell anyone about this"
- Hunter for not knowing his name. ...Y'know, since he's already apologizing to every other kid, he might as well admit he doesn't know Hunter's name, which could be awkward later so better own up to it now
- And let's be frank here, he probably forgot Gus' too if he ever knew it, so that's another Gus apology
- Darius for choosing Odalia over him
- The entire rebellion for making all those abomatons, big cringe moment
- Luz for real this time. Earnest effort made here, but it needs to be done again thanks to the switcharoo. Not his fault, just a redo is in order
- Eda for the factory incident with Luz, and for Luz getting kidnapped thanks to his invention that Kikimora took
- Huh you know when I started this list I didn't realize Alador caused so much damage both directly & indirectly thanks to Odalia's choices and his own inability to stop it all sooner. Damn dude needs therapy
- His lab rat buddy for all the stress that factory fight must've caused the poor fella if it didn't accidentally get it killed
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I think it’s really fucking funny how C.G. is actually not super smart. That’s really clever and cute. I gave her glasses anyway. Also it’s crazy that Luís has a Papa Skulls t shirt (reference to Trollhunters). Small world! He’s like “look at my awesome t shirt… also I’m scared of EVERYTHING”. And Emily loves all creatures great and small no matter how weird they look, it’s super sweet. She saw Squibbon and said “AWWWW” which is so cool of her.
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paganminiskirt · 1 year
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Jack Baker is one of if not the most genuinely terrifying antagonists in the entire RE franchise and I think the fact that the same game wherein he grabs you and forces you to look him in the eye as a section of his skull regrows around his visibly pulsating brain also features him stumbling around as a pair of disembodied pants and fretting over whether or not his bug wife heard him say something rude about bugs. I think that’s actually a reason why everyone seems to find him so crushingly intimidating. Not something that happens in spite of it.
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yourstormthlaylirahh · 2 months
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#i was reading someones post and agreeing with them for the most part#until the got to the part about insisting kinnporsche was a meaty show with lots of substance to it especially compared to other thai drama#babe kp was all flash and style and no substance#they set it up as if it has substance and then the writing fell appart in the back half#it was especially funny cause this post was contrasting it to last twilight#which literally had the same fucking issue#really good for the first eps (in lt till ep 9 imo kp to ep 8) and then absolutely fell all over itself#undid a ton of stuff it set up and fell apart#kp isnt as egregious as lt imo because it didnt cause the same hurt and distress#it just became ridiculous in the not-fun way and stupid and all over the place#but like they are both examples of writing/directing teams biting off more than they could chew and failing miserably#the funny part was they were basing what was a meaty show with well rounded characters on how many fanfics where created based on it#i... dont think that fanfic and fanart numbers are inherently indicative of quality#look at the number of fanworks for supernatural#or hell even bbc merlin#which i adore but the shows execution was. uh. not the best.#its more indicative of how fandom culture has changed than anything else with people jumping from interest to interest#they werent flawless but if we are thinking of thai bl with substance and something to say? not me and the eclipse are right there#i know it isnt for everyone because the lakorn style is really strong but khun chai broke a lot of the standards for lakorns to my knowledg#miracle of teddy bear has substance and weight to it and people barely gave it the time of day#i just rolled my eyes so hard#and im in a bitchy mood right now so i had to come vent#emilys fandom thoughts
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jpriest85-blog · 2 years
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With chapter 11 of @itlivesproject coming out soon I decided to draw height comparisons of my trio of It Lives MCs, as well as sharing various Headcanons of each of them.
Cassandra Xi
After Jane's death Cassandra tried explaining what happened but since no one believed her because they were just traumatized kids. She just stopped talking all together and went mute for several years. She didn't start talking to people again until about middle school after years of therapy, but she did learn to use sign language during the years she was non verbal. She even taught some sign language to Noah to help keep him grounded in his humanity.
As an only child Cassandra was always a bit jealous that Jane and Stacy both had brothers. It's also part of the reason she's so determined to help Noah, Jane was her best friend and when she was little she considered Noah her brother too. It also added to her guilt that she lost touch with Noah until their last year of high school.
After high school Cassandra eventually became a veterinarian and specializes in training service and therapy animals.
Part of the reason Cody targeted her so much with bullying is during freshman year he used to have a crush on her but Cassandra rejected and insulted him when he tried to ask her out, because he was a jerk to her other friends, particularly Andy. Cody never got over the fact she turned him down and humiliated him, especially by a girl who was so low on the popular social standing, so he would be extra cruel and physical when bullying Cassandra. It also added to Cassandra's guilt when he died, because as much as she despised Cody, maybe if she turned him down more gently back then he might still be alive.
Definitely one of the more fashionable of the It Lives MCs, tends to mix sporty with alternative or rocker fashion.
Keeps one of Andy's old basketball jerseys and wears it to bed like pjs
While she's the same height as Andy she often appears taller than him if she's wearing heels or boots with thick soles. Andy doesn't mind because 1 she looks hot 2 it's easier to kiss Cassandra's neck if she's a few inches taller than him when they make out and 3 Cassandra really likes it when Andy kisses her neck.
Cassandra and Andy would definitely be one of those Tik Tok couples that do adorable kisses while working out together.
Yusef Vance
Other than his height, which he inherited from his father, Yusef takes after his mother more in his physical features. Which is probably why Arthur was stricter with him, besides being the eldest Yusef looks more like Marie than his brother Elliott.
Yusef used to have a lot of anger issues when he was a kid after his birth father left. His stepfather Todd helped him learn to channel it constructively with boxing and teaching him to never hit people out of anger. Self defense or protecting someone else is another story, especially since it seems Yusef has a bit of his grandmother Josephine's temper too.
After discovering his parents' bodies Yusef developed a case of erythrophobia that triggers an anxiety attack if he sees a lot of red because it reminds him of the blood. As a result he no longer wears any red clothes, and stopped eating or drinking red foods and beverages like red wine, pasta sauce, ketchup, ect.
Yusef and Tom eventually develop a poly relationship with Imogen. It started out as both of them regularly checking in on her and helping her funeral planning and dealing with legal business after her parents deaths. Tom and Yusef often wound up spending the night at Imogen's place because she's still scared to sleep in that big house all by herself. Eventually they all just started sharing a bed together because all three off them would suffer nightmares. Tom often jokes that Imogen is their sugar mama, although Yusef often has to be the one to put his foot down and remind both Imogen and Tom not to overspend.
Phillipa "Pippa " Delphi
As a child Pippa once dressed up as Velma from Scooby-Doo together with Amelia as Daphne, and three other friends as the Mystery Inc gang for Halloween. Anne was still a toddler so she was dressed as a baby ghost. Her stroller was converted into the Mystery Machine van with some cardboard and paint. It was their best trick or treating candy haul.
Phillipa "developed " at a young age and is forever disappointed that genetics wouldn't let her grow taller, because if she could she'd definitely trade in her D cup bust line to be at least 5ft5.
Pippa's petite build and genuine personality seems to have an oddly calming effect on people. Especially Jocelyn despite her initial hostility, Phillipa has been very effective at keeping Jocelyn nerves steady. Cassandra believes Pippa has a calming effect on Jocelyn like a human version of an emotional support pet.
Despite her small stature and not being as physically strong or intimidating as Amelia and Jocelyn, Philippa is a deadly sharpshooter.
Part of the reason Pippa is so familiar with firearms is she used to go duck hunting with her parents when she was young. She even won some youth clay shooting competitions as a kid and several of her relatives used to call her their very own "Annie Oakley."
Often wears mismatched socks, started as a good luck habit before she did target companions.
Since Abel only wears pj bottoms when Philippa's relationship with him gets serious enough to spend the night, Abel lends her the tops for his pj sets. They are adorably oversized on her.
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cykelical · 1 year
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i want to start using this site more. that said i am very curious how long it will take for me to be microagressed over using it pronouns.
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afieldinengland · 2 years
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entertaining myself by imagining what hammer would have come up with if they tried to sex up frankenstein like they sexed up dracula
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elbiotipo · 2 months
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When South Africa dismantled apartheid, it did not end with the expulsion of all white South Africans. They became part of the new South Africa, just without the criminal discriminatory oligarchic powers the apartheid goverment had. When Bolivia recognized its indigenous heritage and became a plurinational state, it did not mean that people of European descent were expelled in masse. It meant the recognition of the previously discriminated indigenous and mestizo people of Bolivia and the beginning of a path of integration and revalidation.
What I mean is that it's ridiculous to think that decolonization inherently means mass suffering and relocation, that's what colonization does. Decolonization is recognizing the crimes of colonization, but more importantly, material, political and social steps to give power and self-determination to the exploited native people who were victims of colonialism and imperialism.
In multicultural societies, you don't go like in that Peter Griffin meme with a skin tone chart and saying 'well, you go back to Europe, you go back to Africa, you stay here'. You build a new society on the paradigm of dignity for exploited people and equality under the law. People are acting like this is some sort of fantastic utopia instead of real initiatives that were done in living memory, with successes and failures, as all such initiatives have. One must ask why are some so insistent that multicultural societies can't thrive, especially when for most of history, societies were indeed like that. Consider why you think like that.
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russetfur1128 · 9 months
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People seem to have forgotten that "proship" was the Fandom norm for the longest time.
Only, it wasn't called proship. It was called ship and let ship. Or minding your own buisness.
If someone had a ship you didn't like or thought was gross, you would avoid them. If they drew art or wrote stories you didn't agree with or like, you would ignore them.
There were tags like smut, whump, and angst to tell people about things they might not want to read. And then dead dove: do not eat for taboo subjects and especially gritty fic.
Then people started to ignore that. Younger fans started to bully people because they disagreed with shipping certain characters. Whether it be because it "wasn't canon", they thought it was gross, or they just didn't like it.
These people began calling themselves "anti-ship"
Pro-ship became a label to show that someone was against anti-ship.
Eventually, the anti-ship movement began to die down. So do you know what they did? They started accusing people. Of being pedophiles, groomers, rape supporters, and more. All because they wrote or drew things that these people didn't like.
They began claiming that THEY were the Fandom norm, and that these "proshippers" were the bad people. They started claiming that proship stood for "problematic shipping"
Due to this, the term "pro-ship" is often misconstrued as to what it means. Many people don't even KNOW what it means.
It means "anti-censorship".
It means that we support someone's right to produce art, no matter how gross, no matter how taboo, no matter how "problematic"
Because it's not hurting anyone.
If it's something you don't want to see? Block the person. Block the tag. Say in your bio that you don't like it. That's what they're FOR!
This was discussed in earlier days of fandom.
"I wonder why people would read a story in a genre they don't care for, then take the time to let the writer know that sure enough, they didn't care for it. That would be like me going to a restaurant, ordering a slice of cherry pie, then asking that the chef be brought out so I can say "I don't like cherry pie, and I didn't like yours either." To continue this analogy into its usual fannish outcome, the chef would say "Well gee, lady, why did you order it?" And I'd say, "Are you questioning my right to order cherry pie?"
-Unknown 2002
Except now, it would be like the person who didn't like the cherry pie and ordered it anyways then demanded that no restaurant serve cherry pie because it was poison. Not only is it a ridiculous request, it's blatantly untrue.
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astral-catastrophe · 1 year
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oh
#no but really#does it make me a bad person?#i have been thinking about that post from earlier about trauma and not remembering big memories and really#ive always been good at remembering things. anything and everything#i can remember his smiles. how i used to be taller than them both and would ruffle their hair#i remember how her hands felt on mine. i remember how she would mess with my hair#but aside from the stated. i don’t remember most of my elementary years. just first and sixth. then middle school when she came back#none of it#i remember being a snarky bitch to my first grade teacher because she was something else/neg#and being with my friends#but after that? nothing. just patchy things without any of them. i shoukd remember#i don’t remember things i should#and I suppose this will only make sense to those well versed in my ridiculous lore#but after she left? i remember that. i remember all of that#then when she came back in middle school ? didn’t try to be my friend again? then embarrassed and teased me?#it gets foggy again until she’s gone#my teachers and friends all agreed that i came out of my shell when she left#after the ex bestie left? i became more like who i was normally. like when I was with my guys or other friend#i was my genuine normal self without her#but does it make me a bad person. that im happy she left? happy she embarrassed and teased me#happy that she never truly sought out being my friend again once she moved back. because in her eyes#she always had someone better than her “own very best friend!” ive always been a second choice and always will. i know that thanks to her#does that make me a horrid and rotten person because im glad that i was kicked to the curb?#i must be a terrible person for this to happen.#she ruined the friendship between my guy friends. and now they’ve headed down very different paths#one not so good#could i have saved him? if she hadn’t shattered their relationship? could i have helped him back toward what he truly wanted?#could i have saved him? he’s not dead. but now? enough’s happened that he might as well be and that is on my hands bc i was a coward#and as for the other guy. would we be together if the ex bestie hadn’t forced everyone away because she wanted only me? am i a coward??#but am i a terrible person for not remembering? terrible for being glad im out and no longer with her?
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0luv9 · 4 months
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can't move on || mattheo riddle
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Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.
Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.
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Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.
He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.
His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.
Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.
"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.
"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.
He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.
"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.
“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.
You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.
Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.
He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.
He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.
Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.
One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.
He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.
He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.
Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.
He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.
Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.
They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.
She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-
He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"
"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.
He fucked up.
"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.
It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.
...
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awearywritersworld · 8 months
Text
tell me you don't want me
gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo adds falling in love with his dead best friend's little sister to the list of things that keep him up at night w/c: 1.8k tags/warnings: angst to fluff. gojo takes care of reader when they have a migraine. they watch shark week together, so shark haters beware. arguing, but nothing super harsh. protective!gojo. reader is referred to as a sister but there are no pronouns. gojo is around 27, reader 23. curse words. no out right smut, but a heavily suggestive ending so lets say 18+ a/n: i've been writing purely fluff for gojo, so it seems about time to return to my angst/fluff roots. today's epi made me had me feeling some type of way. may write a part two to this? idk lemme know what you think! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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after you arrived at jujutsu high as a first year, everyone wore the same expression when they looked at you, their eyes full of pity and apprehension. you really couldn't blame them though. after what happened with suguru, you were left a shell of yourself, paranoid that you were destined to the same fate as your older brother.
however, the boy that suguru called his best friend held something different in his gaze whenever his eyes fell on you. understanding, maybe? gojo knew that if there was anyone in the world who missed suguru as much as he did, it had to be you.
for most of the year, the two of you really only talked in passing, dancing around a discussion neither of you were brave enough to initiate. then your brother's birthday rolled around and you found yourself drenched in rain, sneaking into the boys' dormitory to knock on gojo satoru's door.
he wasn't surprised to find you standing there.
"that idiot always refused to let me celebrate his birthday," you blurted out, damp hair sticking to your forehead.
he laughed. it was just a breath, but it was still genuine. "right? he couldn't stand being fussed over for one day."
and as you both stood there, rain pattering against the window, you felt months of unspoken tension melt away. "well, come in. i bought cake."
after that day, gojo took on the roll of your older brother and he really leaned into it. flicking your forehead to annoy you, threatening anyone he thought had a crush on you, giving you advice whenever he deemed you needed it.
you weren't sure if he was aware, even after all these years, that he'd saved you— pulled you away from the brink. you became like the little sister he never had, while he tried his best to fill the hole suguru had left in your heart.
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gojo spends more time in your apartment than his own, so it's no surprise when he barges in one afternoon, singing out your name (rather terribly, one might add).
"i have a migraine, 'toru," you groan from the couch, pulling the blanket up over your head as the bright light from behind his figure worsens your discomfort. all of your blinds are shut, the curtains pulled together. "can you please close the door?"
he hums, stepping inside and pulling the door shut quietly. "you seem to be getting them a lot lately."
"probably because i spend so much time with you," you whine facetiously.
he gasps, hand clutching at his heart. "i come all the way here to visit you, only to be ridiculed. my devastation is untellable."
after grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, he pads over to the kitchen sink. you peer at him from under the blanket as he runs it under cold water, noting how the veins in his forearms become more prominent once he wrings it out.
you're laying across the entirety of the couch, but you scoot away from the edge and he situates himself in the space beside your hip, his body facing you. the corner of his mouth is turned down, evidence of the worry swirling in his chest. he presses the back of his fingers to your forehead before folding the cloth neatly and laying it there.
"you should mention the migraines to shoko," he suggests earnestly.
"they just flare up sometimes, you know that. it's really not a big deal."
"yeah, maybe.. but i still worry about you."
you can't help but notice how close he is and while it feels casual, it also feels... intimate? the cold cloth does bring some relief to your head, though you'd have preferred it if his hand had remained there instead.
"have you eaten?" he questions after a moment, pulling you from your thoughts.
"not yet."
"then i'll go pick up some food," he offers, rising to his feet. "do you need anything else-"
"no," you say a little too quickly, your fingers wrapping around his wrist. "i mean.. can you just stay?"
he suddenly looks very smug. "oh, what's this? are you sure spending more time with me won't make your head feel worse?"
you attempt to roll your eyes but the movement sends a sharp pain through your skull, causing you to grumble. "don't make me hurt you satoru. i was joking."
"i know," he smirks, decently self satisfied. "but you do have to eat, so-"
"there's leftover egg drop in the fridge, can you just warm that up for me please?"
"'course! anything for you, (y/n)-chan!"
his tone makes it sound as if he's teasing you, but he knows it's the truth. he's painfully aware that there isn't a thing you could ask of him that he'd deny. he tries not to think about that though, because he can't bring himself to admit what it all means.
once your soup is ready, he joins you on the couch. you move to sit up and while that makes plenty of room for him, he still lifts your legs, sitting so that they lay across his lap. one of his hands is resting on your shin, the other on your knee.
"shark week?" he suggests as you reach for the remote.
you nod eagerly. "yes."
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the two of you have never fought before.
well, maybe that's not entirely true. it isn't uncommon for the both of you to argue over video games, the latest chapter of a manga, or other things of that nature. but you and gojo have never had a genuine disagreement.
that is, until you mention wanting to challenge a decision made by the higher ups. he's well aware of how they deal with people they deem troublesome, so he can't help the vexation that bubbles up in his chest at your words.
"absolutely not," he tells you. his voice is low, not one hint of amusement to be found.
the tone leaves you narrowing your eyes, and you sound a bit misbelieving when you ask, "what do you mean 'absolutely not'?"
after everything that happened with geto, the higher ups have been wary of you. honestly, they're probably just looking for an excuse to pull another stunt like the detention center and he can't risk that. he can't risk losing you.
rather than express any part of that sentiment, however, he just goes all stone faced and vague. it's weird, so naturally it's followed by a bit of back and forth that goes nowhere, the conversation growing unreasonably volatile with each passing second.
why can't you just listen to him? why can't you give him the benefit of the doubt? he's earned that by now, hasn't he?
"i don't understand!" you hiss, your chest heaving with indignation. "why are you acting like this?"
because i love you. because i need you. because you mean more to me than everything else in this world put together.
he can't possibly say that though.. can't lay his shame bare for you to see.. can't bring himself to admit the feelings he has for you.
he's in love with dead best friend's little sister and it's wrong. it keeps him up at night. claws away at his self respect.
"i'll take care of it," he promises, sounding a bit defeated. "just please stay out of it."
"quit treating me like i'm a child, satoru. you're not my father."
your assertion makes the air in the room shift, and the feeling that forms in the pit of gojo's stomach is not unlike a cord being pulled too taut before snapping.
"so what am i then, huh? what am i to you?" he interrogates, taking a step toward you.
his eyes burn with intensity and the conviction in his voice is dizzying, especially since it's meant only for you. he immediately notices the way you stiffen, suddenly unable to meet his eye.
he swallows thickly, any restraint he has left ebbing away once he hears your small, nervous voice. "'toru, w... what do you-"
you're cut off when he takes another step in your direction, your back meeting with the wall after you attempt to maintain the space between the both of you.
one of his palms presses to the wall beside your head, though the other remains at his side. he doesn't want to trap you there, not when he still doesn't have a clear idea of how you're feeling.
his breath fans across your face, your mind struggling to process what was happening. you whisper his name, unsure of how else to respond.
"i want you." he nearly chokes on the words, the pain of admitting them evident in his voice. "want you more than anything."
and he does. he wants you more than the sleep he never gets. more than he wants to honor suguru. more than he wants to be a good man.
his head dips down, your breath catching in your throat when his lips find the spot on your jaw just below your ear.
"please, tell me to stop," he begs, sending a shiver down your spine.
your hands move to his chest, the rise and fall of it uneven and sporadic. god, you make him so fucking weak it's almost pathetic.
his lips shift to your cheek, closer to your mouth, and his hand reaches up to cradle the other side of your face. he sounds irrevocably desperate now, "tell me you don't want me."
your heart's beating so loudly in your ear drums, you can hardly hear yourself speak. "satoru, please."
"please what?" he asks, and for a moment you're unsure of the answer.
you try to open your mouth once more, but the words are lodged in your throat. confusion and frustration rattle around in your head, making it difficult to string together your thoughts. finally you just give in, grabbing his face between your hands and pulling his lips against your own.
he let's out a strangled noise, some unknowable mix of pleasure and relief. his hands land on your hips at once, greedily pulling your body against his own.
his lips are chapped, but they're perfect in the way they move against yours. the kiss isn't clumsy, nor is it unsure. it's ardent and comfortable, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
you pull away first, each of you holding the other's gaze. you're both hazy eyed, your mouths curved into giddy, lovesick grins.
gojo doesn't hesitate when you glance down at his lips, your words easing that bitter self loathing he'd been enduring for longer than he cares to admit. "if you want me... then make me yours."
taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice
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galaxy-siren · 6 months
Text
Kiss Me
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
Request: Imagine every time you ask him for something he'll reply "only if you ___" (ex. tell me that Black Sabbath is the greatest band of all time, etc) So one day while with the rest of the hellfire you ask him and he goes "only if you give me a kiss" he doesnt expect it ofc but you do it to get him flustered and he's all 😳😵‍💫 before he has time to process you're already leaving
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: friends to lovers, flirting, flustered!eddie, a little bit of fluff
AN: This was a request from Daisy🌼Thank you so much for sending this in and I apologize that it took so long to get to! I hope you enjoy!
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Eddie and you had been friends for years, so the two of you had many inside jokes, bits, and little random things that only the two of you got a kick out of. One of which was whenever you asked Eddie for something, he would always respond with a request of his own.
You would ask him for some of his pretzels at lunch. He would say, “You can if you say that Metallica is the greatest band of all time.” You would ask if you could pick the movie for movie night. He would reply, “If you admit you have terrible taste in movies you can.” And sometimes there were more ridiculous requests. You would ask him if the two of you could go get ice cream, and with a mischievous smile, Eddie would say, “Sure, but only if you hop on one foot and sing Number of the Beast.”
It was strange to others, but to the two of you it was normal. Something that you had always done since the beginning of your friendship.
But things had started to change…at the start of your senior year (third go around for Eddie) you began to realize you had romantic feelings for each other. And instead of outright telling each other (because that would be too simple), you had started flirting.
It was subtle at first. Small compliments, lingering smiles and glances, longer than usual hugs, but as the year went on, it became more obvious. Even your little bit started to take on a more flirtatious tone. You would ask for a favor and Eddie would say, “I will if you give me a hug,” or “I will if you tell me I’m handsome,” and you would always laugh and comply with a cheeky smile on your face.
Your flirting had become so obvious that almost everyone in Hellfire was positive that the two of you were dating (although Grant was not convinced). It had been the topic of discussion at lunch before the two of you showed up many, many times.
“Okay, so I saw something earlier in Ms. O’Donnell’s that I think confirms they are dating.” Jeff set his lunch tray on the table and sat down.
Gareth leaned in, “Talk.”
“Now, I didn’t make out everything they were saying, but I definitely heard something about going out this weekend and seeing a movie, and Eddie smiled at her with that dopey grin that he only gives her, and she laughed.”
“Dude, that’s not proof!” Grant shook his head, “They’ve gone to the movies together for years and she laughs at that dumb face of his every time he smiles.”
“I saw the two of them hugging by her locker.” Gareth said.
Grant and Jeff looked at him with exasperation.
“What?”
“That’s not proof either!” Grant yelled.
“Are we talking about Eddie and Y/N?” Dustin asked as he, Lucas, and Mike sat down at the table.
“Yes.” The three older guys groaned in unison.
“Oh,” Lucas remembered, “I think I saw Y/N boop Eddie’s nose the other day.”
Everyone’s heads snapped in Lucas’s direction, “What?!”
“Has she ever done that before?” Gareth asked.
“I don’t think so,” Jeff pointed at Lucas, “did you see how Eddie reacted?”
Lucas thought about it for a moment before answering, “I think he blushed.”
“Would he blush at that if they were dating?” Gareth wondered out loud.
“Of course he would, we all know any type of affection gets him all flustered. That wouldn’t change even if they were dating, which they’re not.” Grant explained.
“Well, if that’s the case, then I don’t think what Lucas saw was solid proof either.” Dustin added.
“Shut up everyone, they’re coming.” Mike whisper-shouted to the table.
Eddie and you walked over to the table, completely caught up in your own conversation.
“Ok, but Freddy Kruger is a much better horror movie villain than Michael Myers.” Eddie said as he placed his lunchbox on the table.
You shook your head in amusement, “Eddie, I’m not having this argument with you again.”
“Why not?” Eddie whined.
“Because I’ve heard it too many times and I need to head to the library for tutoring.”
Eddie snorted, “Nerd.”
“Look who’s talking,” you shoved his shoulder playfully, “you’re the biggest nerd to ever exist.”
Eddie sat down in his usual seat at the head of the table and looked up at you with mirth in his eyes, “Guilty is charged.”
“I hate to butt into this delightful exchange, but are you still coming over to my place for band practice after school?” Gareth asked Eddie.
“Yeah,” he smiled at you, “you coming too?”
“I guess, I mean I’ve got nothing better to do.” You gave him a teasing smirk.
“Wow, I am truly honored to be graced with your presence then. I guess we’ll see you later. Go study and be a good student.” He dismissed you with a wave of his hand.
You rolled your eyes, “See you later. Can I ride with you to Gareth’s?”
“Sure,” he paused, and a cheeky smile spread across his face, “if you give me a kiss.”
The guys at the table all looked at each other with wide, surprised eyes. A silent conversation between all of them hung in the air, wondering if that was the confirmation they had been looking for. If Eddie had just confirmed that you were dating.
Eddie laughed, expecting you to roll your eyes and slap him on the shoulder or something like that. So, when you leaned down and placed your lips on his he was taken aback. By the time he had processed what was happening, you had pulled back. Eddie chased after your lips, wanting the kiss to last forever, but you were walking away before he could even say anything.
“See you all later!” You waved to the group with a smile on your face before exiting the cafeteria.
The guys all turned to look at Eddie. His face was completely red, his eyes were three times their usual size, and his mouth was agape.
“Eddie?” Jeff asked quietly.
Gareth poked him in the arm, but he didn’t move, “Guys, I think she broke him.”
“Earth to Eddie.” Dustin snapped his fingers in front of Eddie’s face, and he finally snapped out of his stupor.
“What um…what just happened?” Eddie’s mind was all over the place, he felt like he had just blacked out and couldn’t tell if the kiss had just been in his imagination.
“Um, Y/N just kissed you and then left for the library.” Lucas said.
“So that did happen; I didn’t just imagine it?”
“Yeah.” Everyone nodded.
“Great...if you’ll excuse me, I need to go ask her a very important question.” Eddie bolted up from his seat and gathered his things.
“What do you need to ask her?” Jeff asked with a very serious expression on his face.
“I need to ask her if this means she likes me and wants to go out with me.” Eddie shouted as he made for the cafeteria exit and dashed down the hall in the direction of the library.
A beat of silence fell on the table as they all watched Eddie leave in a comedically dramatic fashion.
“I told you all they weren’t dating,” Grant took a sip of his soda and shook his head in amusement, “but they will be by the time we see them at band practice.”
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