#like this is related i think to how i view something like taking a shower or getting dressed as 50 separate steps

[perpetuallydaydreaming]

you don’t really like me, you just think you do.

when james’ feelings did a 180, you find it hard to take him seriously.

warnings: no warnings, not proof read (bc lazy)

tags: fluff & angst, 5.9k wc, getting together, jamie being the best suitor, charlie (not weasely) is also here

when people asks you how it changed, you always say it was sudden.

suddenly, james was everywhere you look. suddenly, james was tripping and falling over you. suddenly, james fancied you.

as sudden as it was, it didn’t shock you as one would’ve expected. you always knew him to be as inconsistent in his school work, so you figured he would be inconsistent towards his feelings as well. what shocked you though, was that he liked you of all people.

all interactions with james had strictly consisted of school related-topics. you were in different houses and different social circles. so when he pulls you aside one morning in-between classes. you had expected one of two things; showing him how to do a bandaging charm, again or him asking you for a copy of your essays.

and it was to your absolute horror, that he proved how wrong you are.

“i like you and i hope you like me too.”

when people asks james how it changed, he always says it was gradual.

gradually, you became something he had looked forward seeing every morning. gradually, you had become a pivotal part of his day, every interaction cherished and replayed in his mind late at night. gradually, he had started falling for you.

as gradual as it was, it came as a complete shock for him. he had only viewed you as a friend, and even that was pushing it. you two barely talked to each other and when you did, it was always about school. you two were always paired up for some reason, and in his mind it became akin to fate. you started to occupy the large space that was once occupied by his lilypad and now replaced by you, your soft smile and the contradicting cynic replies.

and with fate working beside him to get you two as close as possible, james thought you figured the same. you were always so patient wth him, always ready to help him out. but your kindness sometimes came with snarky responses that he found oh so charming and witty. so when he excused you to talk, he had expected a successful attempt in snagging a date with you. even going as far as preparing a bouquet for you, he arranged himself.

and it was to his absolute horror, that you proved how wrong he is.

“um, no.”

and so became the norm. james had made it his life’s mission to actively pursue you. you gotta admit though, if he wanted something. he really goes all out.

it started with a daily routine with you every morning. james would wake up early and wait for you by the main floor near the grand staircase. his back against the rough stones, arms and ankles crossed, a boyish smile on his face the moment he would see you. he would beam a smile, cheeks denting, eyes shinning, and walk to you, offering a pleasant greeting of good morning, gorgeous. my, don’t you look ravishing this morning, grabbing your books and tote to carry for you. the first time he attempted this, you fought hard to deny his services. your hands like claws as you hold your things to your person. though he had hardly blinked then, maybe even looked a bit amused, even going as far as looking excited. the weirdo.

but it had been weeks now and frankly, you had grown tired of fighting with him every morning. especially, when he would always win in the end anyway. so now, you just let him do whatever he wanted. not like you have anything to complain about, your bag has always been pretty heavy.

he would flirt with you. constantly. shower you with compliments about things you hardly even think about sometimes. he had sung praises about your eyebrows the other day, and you had no choice but to bluster through it, to mask your flaming cheeks from embarrassment. but he’s not just all talk either, lately he’s worked up the courage to try to hold your hand — or something close to it. he would slowly walk closer to you, his pink lips going on and on asking you and complimenting you, telling jokes, a diversion—you realize. he would blindly extend his fingers, pinkies first, and when you would feel that first touch to your hand, your heart would do an awful jump. your skin would feel a little bit smaller, your brain blaring alarms, his pinky finger touched your hand, repeat it with increasing traitorous glee. this one, you haven’t stopped fighting. as each time you feel his hand touch yours, you would always create some distance between the two of you, no matter how crowded the corridor is, not that it hardly mattered to him, he looked like he’s won something each time he was successful.

today was no different. before the stairwell could even move, you can already see his dark messy hair waiting for you at one of the floors.

“i say, loverboy’s plenty persistent, hm?” charlie hummed, leaning over the railway, his pale eyes clear with amusement.

you scoff, fingers twitchy on the handle as you see him look up and glow into a smile as he locked eyes with you, “like a rash.” tearing your gaze from james potter down below to look ahead, “that would eventually go away.”

he raises an eyebrow at that, lips quirking into a smirk “really now? he’s been waiting for you every morning for the past months, i think this rash is here to stay. ”

you forced a tight lipped smile, “all in due time, i’m sure.”

clenching your hands when the stairs settle in, you walk down, gently meeting his bright honey eyes.

once you were close enough, he grinned, “good morning my sweet,” pushing himself off of the wall he was leaning against. like some infuriating roguish model. you like to think he practices ways on how he would look leaning against the stone wall. something he would drag his friends into helping him decide which one looked best, no doubt. you almost smile at the thought but stopped yourself when he says, “don’t you look as beautiful as ever.” he hummed.

his robes in his hands, his tie crisp and perfect, his white button-up wrinkle-free. his hair looking like something he’d desperately describe as artfully tousled but could only be ever perceived as messy. his cool bravado contrasting his rosy cheeks and ears. your heart doing that awful thing again.

“well, that’s my cue. see you both later.” charlie waved and you looked, giving him a nod goodbye.

you sighed through your nose, “potter.”

“try not to sound too happy now.” he teased. he let out his palms for you to place your tote and books, and like yesterday and the day before, you give it to him without complaint. “thanks,” you muttered, keeping in a snort of laughter as you see him wear your pink floral tote on his shoulders unabashedly.

“so, are you ready for your ancient runes test today?” he asks, once you two started walking to the great hall.

“how did you—?”

he shrugged, tousling his hair and looking down on you with a proud smile. “i know everything about you, darling.” (and that he does. albeit he had to beg and bribe his way for your friends to start sharing basic information about you. what your classes are, favourite colours, what you like, dislike —because merlin forbid you actually share things about yourself. all without you knowing of course. wouldn’t want you to think of him as weird.)

you gave the weirdo a suspicious stare before shaking your head, “i think i’m ready. i mean, i studied everything i could. i revised three books for it and even did flashcards.”

“well i bet my hair, you’re gonna do just great.” he grinned, softly nudging your shoulder. “you always have.”

rolling your eyes, “thank you, although i don’t really need you hair.”

“well, just tell me which limb you want and i’ll give it to you.” spreading his arms apart, your bag sliding on his arms with his movement. grinning wide and wiggling his eyebrows. leaning into your face.

your face screwing up into a grimace, and pushing his face away with your knuckles, “the same goes for any anatomy or anything you offer me, i’m afraid.”

the persistent blighter just grinned, looking all too proud of himself for whatever reason.

you were about to turn towards the library, but he grabbed your arm and clicked his tongue, “eat breakfast first,” his fingers firmly wrapped around your inner elbow, denting the soft skin there.

“i have to study,” you say firmly, hoping your voice won’t crack.

“you studied enough, now let’s go.” a little tug from him and you were compliant. something he had looked pleasantly surprised by, if the denting cheeks were any indication.

once he felt you weren’t fighting him from pulling you to the great hall, he let you go. warm big hands leaving your arms.

he started talking about his plans, letting you know when he’s available and when he’s busy. asking about yours in turn — and like always sharing nothing. not that he’s deterred. it’s near the hall’s entrance when you feel his gaze at the side of your face, “—after practice though, i’m going to be fairly free the rest of the night.” that familiar lilt in his voice.

breathing in deep, knowing what’s coming next. “so i was thinking, that maybe we could meet up near the lake - have an afternoon picnic.” you turn to look at him and see him rub the back of his neck. the action causing his biceps to bulge out, pulling the fabric taut against his skin. a treacherous thought passing in your mind.

breathing in slowly, you close your eyes to refocus on his face. warm hazel eyes pleading, hopeful, still just like that first time.

“no thank you,” entering the hall just as james opens the door for you.

he frowns, no, pouts. “why not?”

“i just don’t want to.” you walked to your usual seat in the ravenclaw table and james following behind you closely.

“i guess, that’s fair.”

james still in his head, muttering about cancelling with the elves, as he went to unconsciously grab your hand to guide you into your seat. you flushed at the new action, but nonetheless take a seat anyway. he slowly let your bag slip away from his shoulders place it neatly to your side.

“i’ll walk you to the library after you eat, so wait for me, okay?” he smiled gently down at you like you haven’t just rejected him. giving your friends a few nods of acknowledgments before sitting with his friends already there waiting for him.

you hear a few teasing oohs from your friends causing you to get out of your stupor and shoot glares at them. “don’t even.”

it was no public secret that james had been determined to ask you out on a date for the past months. and each time he did, his plans only becoming more elaborate than the last.

the first time he had asked, it was in the corridor in-between classes. people scattering to get where they needed to be. you were no different until a large bouquet with large and colourful flowers arranged messily in wrinkly cellophane and tight ribbons. you remembered his face then, noting how red and shy he looked. he had been stammering and restarting his spiel to you. you saw your friend gesturing for you to hurry, but oddly enough. you stayed rooted to the spot, curious for what’s to come.

“i like you and i hope you like me too!” he might as well be screaming, as the people around you two stopped and stared. the hall now deathly silent, awaiting your response. you flushed at the attention, and grabbed james by the elbow. walking swiftly to the more secluded area at the end of the hall.

once you two were alone, you see those hopeful eyes of his and his nervous smile. his face was still laughably red and the flowers still upright, tightly clutched in his hands.

“um no,” standing up straighter, “i don’t know what transpired for you to do this but, no.”

you can practically see him deflate then, the flowers lowering from his chest to his side. “no?”

“no.”

“i thought—“ he gulped, stepping towards you. but you raise a hand stopping him. clearing your throat before uttering,

“potter, what about evans?”

he tilted his head, hair flopping in his eyes, and a frown on his pink lips. “what about her?”

you scoff a humourless laugh, hands wildly waving in front you. your bag slipping but continued to say,

“what about her? potter, you’ve liked her since—well since, forever and now you want me to believe you like me now?”

“yes.” he nodded, eyebrows scrunching now. looking frustrated like it was obvious.

you laugh in disbelief, muttering lowly, “how fickle.”

“fickle?”

you freeze, shamed he heard you. waving your hands nonchalantly, an easy smile on your face, “you know frequently changes, inconsistent.”

“i know what fickle means, i’m not an idiot.”

you sputter a short laugh at his indignant tone, “what? are you mad at me now?”

huffing through his nose and pouting, “i’m not mad at you, i’m mad at the situation—“

“fickle! you just confessed looking all shy and now you’re glaring—“

“i am not glaring.”

“fickle!” you laugh, pointing at his scrunched up face. his face now red for a different reason.

“i’m not!” he groans, “i really like you and i want to date you.”

reaching up to place a hand on his shoulder, ignoring the way he tensed up and gotten even redder, “no, you don’t. these feelings will eventually pass. trust me.”

james hadn’t replied then, and just as you were about to leave, he thrusted the flowers in your face once again.

“no, potter—“

shaking his head, “no, these are for you. regardless of your answer.” showing you a small dimpled smile, compelling you to take them without anymore argument. the cellophane rustling in your hand. the flowers looking like they’ve been randomly arranged, like someone just chose the biggest and eye catching flowers and bundled it together.

you try not to imagine james picking the flowers himself and getting pink ribbons to tie it all together. tongue poking at his cheek in concentration as he struggles to arrange the flowers like the professionals. it wasn’t an image you saw before, but found yourself easily picturing it nonetheless.

“thank you...”

and you thought that was the end of it. he’ll start to ignore you now because you bruised his pride. maybe even go back to talking to lily evans again.

you try not to think of the swirling disappointment in your stomach, nor the twinge of something else mixed in.

but when you got down from the ravenclaw tower, the next day. off to start your day in the library. there he was, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

james potter was waiting for you, a radiant smile etching on his face once he saw you.

since then, you had been subjected to various ways james had planned to asked you out. ranging from spelling out your name with an invite in the sky to literally riding a white horse during class and asking if he could whisk you away. all had been met with either an indifferent stares or a horrified wide-eyed gape. after two weeks of feeling complete dread and embarrassment, to the possibilities james potter has in store for you. he suddenly stopped. retiring fireworks and floating parchment of invitations, to normal folded ones inserted in your books. no longer charming his voice so it could be heard all over school to hear him declare his affections, but instead softly asking you in private instead.

it was obvious you had taken a liking to the quieter, more discreet versions rather than the former.

because the first time he did, james had gathered a lock of your hair between his fingers and tucked them behind your ear, whispered low and slow and so close to your ear, as he uttered:

“go on a date with me,”

you were blushing up a storm, then. face warm to the touch and eyes averting frantically to every corner in the library except his eyes. frustratingly aware of his fingers still touching your ear.

he had looked at you then, shock written all over his face before a shy grin took over his face. rubbing his hand over his mouth and tugging the corner of his mouth to stop himself from grinning at your reaction.

he had also been rejected that time but he decided your reaction was reward enough.

you look at your watch and saw you had around an hour left to read up on your other subjects before your first lesson starts.

taking the last few bites of breakfast before james, who had noticed the time as well, had walked over and was already grabbing the things you pulled out of your tote, placing it neatly inside. plopping to the seat beside you.

“you ready to go, pretty?” he quipped.

quickly nodding as you hastily clean your section of the table and said your goodbyes to your friends. pointedly ignoring the wiggling eyebrows and teasing hoots of pretty.

james had offered a hand to help you stand up but you ignored it and stood on your own.

“did you eat a lot?” leaning to have a good look at your face.

you nodded, “a bit. they had scrambled eggs, so i had a full plate.”

james nodding, a happy smile on his face. “good, good.” turning to look in front of him and opening the heavy doors for you all the while adjusting your tote on his shoulders. “listen, there was a schedule change for pitch practice so i’ll be a bit busy starting tomorrow. i’m sorry, sweets.”

“okay.”

he hummed, thoughtful. “i’ll try to still be around and walk you to your classes in between breaks—we’ll see how that goes. try not to miss me too much, yeah?” a teasing smile on his lips.

you rolled your eyes, oblivious to the days ahead.

“oh,” charlie said, leaning over to the railing.

“what?” following his gaze and looking over to the glaringly, strangely vacant spot. “oh,”

now staring at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “i see mr. loverboy’s not in today.” the smirk on his face making you roll your eyes.

“managed to finally scare him off, did ‘ya?” he supplies.

“if only,” crossing your arms, “he said he’ll be busy with quidditch practice.”

when the stairs settled in, charlie turned to you. “it’s certainly nice to know he has other hobbies other than bothering you.”

“bothering me?” adjusting the strap of your tote on your shoulder.

he quirked an eyebrow, an inquisitive look on his face “he doesn’t bother you anymore?”

“nonsense, you know he does.”

“interesting,”

you look at him with a frown, hating the teasing, the all knowing tone he always uses when you missed something. “what?”

“nothing!” you gave him an exasperated stare and raised your eyebrow, raising his hand in the air and chuckled, “i just noticed you getting a bit soft on ‘im, that’s all.” tapping his chin, “you don’t look that bothered to me, is what i’m saying. and you never say so anymore.”

your face warmed. is that what it looked like to others? is that potter thinks? that you’re going soft on him now? you scoff, tightening your hold on your bag and adjusting the sliding strap. “do i really have to announce it every time i’m pissy with him?”

he’s humming, a certain skip in his step that makes you want to trip him, “no, but i can tell you’re at least tolerating him now. friends, maybe?”

“tolerating does not equate friendship, sorry to say.” you know, it isn’t. being with james doesn’t feel at all like how it is with charlie.

“an assistant then?” mirth clear in his eyes as he said that. charlie the pale mutt having way too much fun with this.

pursing your lips in an annoyed frown, “i’d like to think he doesn’t qualify enough to be my assistant.” adjusting the slipping strap of your bag.

he laughs, grabbing your tote off your shoulder, and sliding it to his. “you’re not even used to holding your bag anymore, since he always carry it for you.”

“so?”

“so,” looking pointedly at you, as he counts on his fingers, “he’s not a friend, he doesn’t qualify to be your assistant… what is he then?”

you blinked, the question wasn’t anything new. if anything it was a question you started hearing quite frequently, after james potter’s many attempts to woo you. the questions before, however, carried a chaffing tone meant to tease or pull a reaction. but now, with charlie peering curiously at you, and the many weeks you’ve talked with james. the question now carry a different tone.

but still you remain nonchalant, regardless of the warming cheeks and ears. you huffed,

“a pet.”

it was on the same day after one of your classes when you saw him waiting for you. he was still wearing his practice kit and gloves. it looked as if he had rushed over here, with his hair windswept all the more messier than usual. his hazel eyes more alert, brighter—something you find always happens after he plays.

he looked up when he saw the swarm of students leaving the room, eyes immediately meeting yours and the familiar smile that goes with it. his cheeks tinted pink, maybe from the cold wind gushing outside or, dare i say it, seeing you. you ignore the spreading warmth in your stomach, your skin shrinking and your judas heart thudding like a fluttering hummingbird.

the smile he shot your way, was a soft little smile. something you learned he did if he was sorry about something.

“hello, sweets.” he said once close enough. he had reached out then, grabbing your things out of your arms and you giving it to him out of habit. “did you have a good morning?”

your voice seemed to be unresponsive as you just nodded. still raking over his face and figure. like it was your first time seeing him, an urge to reach out. as if you didn’t see him yesterday.

“sorry, i wasn’t there to greet you in the morning.” rubbing the back of his neck. “the team wanted an early practice.”

“oh, i barely noticed.” you lied.

a lie he seems to have caught on himself, if the bashful smile on his face is anything to go by. his cheeks with pretty divots— an urge to dig your thumbs in there greater than ever. no, you think. clenching your hands tight to your sides. fucking charlie with his absurd ideas.

when the last student left the hall, the two of you were left in silence. him staring sparkles at you and you desperately avoiding it.

clearing your throat, you started to walk in the direction of your next class.

“anyway it’s fine, you’re captain now. so more responsibilities is inevitable, i say.”

he slipped your bag into his shoulders and started rearranging your books in his arms. “you know i made captain?”

“you told me, didn’t you?” you frown. you could have sworn he did. it was the day he had drawn hearts all over the margin of your notes, writing both yours and his initials in a heart. the sopping sap.

he stood up straighter, eyes widening in wonder. “you remembered,”

“is that so surprising?” clicking your tongue, slightly offended he thinks you would disregard the things he says. you had manners.

he immediately shook his head, a bright smile took over his face that you had no choice but to look away.

“i’m more surprised you actually have the time to even walk me to class.”

he shakes his head, “i’ll always make time for you!” he exclaimed, slightly bumping your shoulder. “did you think i’d let you go on a day without seeing my face at least once?”

“ah yes, because seeing you is such a gift, no?” you said, you’re voice void of emotions. but he continues undeterred.

“and because i’m so generous, i’ll try to meet you like this tomorrow too.” he beamed, puffing his chest.

a clear image enters your brain. you think of james rushing from the practice grounds to the classrooms in the higher floors. imagine him barely having anytime to rest or even drink water if he were to walk you to your classes and go back to the pitch in time. imagine himself slump against the stone wall in front of the door, steadying his breathing so he wouldn’t look tired or worn, putting on his usual, irritably handsome smile. you imagine him having to rush back, making him even more tired than he has to be. imagine him not performing his best.

the image vivid in your head because he would most likely do just that. and that fact didn’t sit well with you for some reason, “what for? won’t that be an inconvenience to you?”

“it’s not an inconvenience.” he says lightly.

“but isn’t the practice field far from here?” you frowned. it was at two flights of stairs, and a long walk to the covered bridge to the school grounds to the quidditch pitch. it had to be at least a 15 minute walk

his smile slowly started to leave his face as if sensing something wrong. “not that far—” turning to look at you.

you raise an eyebrow, as if scolding, “didn’t you rush over here?”

he shook his head, curls strands flopping over his eyes, “only a little bit—“

“potter, you don’t have rush over here for that.”

“but how can i walk you to your next class if i don’t hurry?”

“that’s what i’m saying,” rolling your eyes, “you don’t have to walk me to class, we can just focus on our own thing for a while—“

now a small frown on his face, “but i want to.”

“and i’m telling you, i don’t need you to. you can focus on your training more rather than rush to walk me in-between classes.” waving off as if it was nothing. you didn’t want him giving up precious break time for something menial like walking you to class.

he stops walking, eyes now filled with frustration. you groan inwardly, plenty sure you won’t be able to reach your class in time. “i just want to spend a little bit of time with you, is that so bad?”

you laugh awkwardly, “this is barely spending time with each other. it’s just a walk to class—”

“so what? you’re saying no to walking with me now?”

you groan out a laugh, pushing your hair out of your face. the idea of it creating an unpleasant twist in your stomach. “that’s not what i’m saying,” softly rubbing your temples, already feeling the migraine forming over the escalating topic.

“then what?”

“spending a little time apart is better, i don’t need you doing all of this for me. carrying my stuff and walking me to class, or waiting for me in the morning. i don’t need any of it. so apologizing or trying to make up for it is unnecessary.”

he laughs in disbelief, “unnecessary?” he parrots, “why can’t you just let me do things for you? why do you always have to fight with me about everything?”

“i don’t want you to!” you exclaimed.

he is being difficult. you were just saying this for his sake. he was the one who said he needed to practice more and now that you tell him to focus on that, he goes off on you.

“i know, but i want to do these things for you because i like you! this is what people do when they like somebody, y/n. they do stuff for them without being asked to.”

rolling your eyes, just ready to end the conversation as you spew the things in your brain mindlessly. “oh seven hells! you don’t like me! you just think you do!”

he took a step forward eyes blazing in irritation, “and you just know that for sure, yeah?”

“yes, potter. i know this for sure.”

he scoffs out a disbelieving laugh, “why is it so hard for you to take my feelings seriously?”

you took a step back, not expecting his question. “what?”

“did someone hurt you before?”

“no-“

“lie to you? trick you?”

”no, what—?”

“then i don’t understand,” staring at you, eyebrows scrunched and hazel eyes blazed with sadness. “is there something wrong with me—?”

you were about to reach out to him, apologize. or clarify. or anything just to make him stop looking like that.

“why can’t the person i’m interested in, like me back?”

you stop, an ugly green emotion engulfing your chest. of course, you thought. your next class be damned. as you face contorts into a sneer as you spat out the words,

“so that’s what this is about?” you scoff, “years of rejection from evans, you turn to the easiest target you can get, so you can feel good about yourself?”

anger taking over his face, “what—?”

“just admit it, you’re pursuing me because you’re frustrated she didn’t reciprocate your feelings.”

“—you think i see you as someone easy? you think i would actually do that to you?”

you straightened your posture, “you can’t be mad at me for simply laying down the facts.” completely disregarding the fact you’ve implied you’d be a willing participant to his wooing if he weren’t so fickle.

adjusting the strap of your bag on his shoulder, mumbling, “i can’t believe this.” and now in a louder voice. “and what are your facts, then?”

“you claimed to love evans, fact.” he scoffs, but you continue. “she rejects you, fact. you start to realize there are other girls in our year and then you see little ole me, fact. you start to build unto this idea of starting something with me because for whatever reason your brain seems to think it’s a good idea, fact.”

shaking his head, “even if that were all true, i like you now.”

“and how long until that changes too?” you counter, looking straight at him. angry tears building in your eyes.

“what? it’s not going to change. ” he stepped forward, and you step back.

“you have been nothing in life but be inconsistent.”

his face twists into a frown. “that’s not true,”

“oh really?” you nodded, your voice getting louder in the quiet halls, “you were the best student during our first year but then you stopped trying. you were on your way to becoming a prefect until you decided you didn’t want to anymore. you were going to turn down becoming captain if it weren’t for black threatening to quit unless you accepted. i mean, really james potter,”

a bitter laugh came tumbling out of your mouth, “you’ve been in love with this girl ever since you were eleven, and now you aren’t.” you breathed, “how will i know you won’t stop liking me too?”

looking into his eyes, waiting for an answer that doesn’t come, you grabbed your bag and books from him and walked away.

“that’s what i thought.”

you didn’t see james after that. not in the morning after and not in-between classes. you thought it was because of quidditch practice again. but when the week ended and still no sign of him, you felt something heavy drop in your chest.

you labelled it as guilt (though charlie have insisted it to be something else—something else he refuses to tell).

guilty you raised your voice and basically criticized him for doing something nice for you. started overthinking you might’ve struck a nerve you shouldn’t’ve, considering you weren’t really friends to begin with. charlie did always say you were a bit loose with your choice of your words. you were the type to offend somebody even without meaning to, he says.

now, it has been days since you last spoke to james and things hasn’t felt right since.

your tote bag keeps slipping off of your shoulder. your books seems heavier now and harder to hold. now, the eggs served at breakfast were never scrambled— always a shitty sunny side up. you can’t concentrate in class. you keep looking for a tall head of curly hair, everywhere you go and you keep feeling the inevitable disappointment when it isn’t the person you were looking for.

it was getting harder and harder keeping your usual composed demeanor. and if charlie noticed anything different with you, he didn’t say anything. until now that is,

“okay this whole thing is getting pathetic.” he sighed. plopping down next to you in the ravenclaw common room.

you look at him, frown seemingly placed permanently on your face nowadays. “i’m sorry?”

he nodded, “yeah, you should be sorry. because you let a good bloke like potter go.” you sat up, “and all because of your refusal to accept that he might actually like you.”

you roll your eyes grumbling, “you don’t know anything,”

“i know you like him,” he huffs, “and for some reason you refuse to admit it.”

you took a deep breath, the glare you had on, softening as you look away.

you didn’t bother correcting him because, well, he was right. you had been dancing around your feelings for so long, you were sure the mask of indifference had already slipped off without your knowledge. you slumped, a whispered sigh as you muttered, “why would i even bother? i know he’ll change his mind.”

charlie had looked taken aback, clearly he expected more fight from you. you huff, you weren’t so emotionally inept that you would continue to deny it any longer. considering how long you’ve been denying yourself of the truth. maybe just a smidge of denial still, but seeing how that rather blown up in your face, it was time to face the music.

and after a while he said, “did he tell you that?”

fiddling with your hands, you say scoffing, “did he tell me he’ll eventually leave me? no,”

“are you clairvoyant then?”

you huff a short laugh, “you know, i think that’s rubbish.”

he offered a smile, “then how do you know he’ll change his mind?”

you sigh, shrugging your shoulders, “i don’t know,”

“and you’ll never know unless you get up and tell him you like him.”

“but what if he changes his mind?” looking at your friend properly now, “what if he suddenly decides he doesn’t like me anymore. hell, he probably doesn’t anymore.”

he shook his head, “he hasn’t. he won’t.”

“but what if?” you whine.

rolling his eyes, “on the off chance that he does, then at least you can say you tried. that for a short while you were happy.“ patting your back, “and isn’t that better?”

you scoff, looking away. “no, that’s definitely worse.”

it was a two days after you and charlie had a talk. and it was during these two days that you and your friends discussed ways on how to make up with james.

you’d think a group of ravenclaws could come up with clever ways to solve your problems. but when one of your friends suggested painting a mural for their honour, and another telling you to pretend like you passed out in front of him—made you realize your friends were as hopeless as you are.

but it turns out, you didn’t really have to.

you were on your way to the ravenclaw tower, when it happened.

you saw james walking towards you. strides large and with purpose. you can practically see his eyes blaze with determination.

you were never big on confrontation, especially when you’re the one being confronted. so you did what anyone would have done, turn and speed walk the other way.

you were about to turn the corner of the hall, out of his sight when you hear him call out to you.

“y/n please,”

you stop, the desperation in his voice echoing in the halls. you hear his footsteps behind, speeding its pace. before slowly turning around to face him.

“james i-“

he shook his head, breathless as he says, “you know i’m a bit cross with you.”

you nod, “yes. you should be, i-“

“you didn’t let me respond to you that day.”

“what?”

his lips pursed, “when you asked me, if i’ll stop liking you.”

you shook your head, embarrassed. “no, you don’t have to-“

“i don’t know if i’ll stop. all i know is, i like you y/n. and i’m not going to say it’s always been you because i did like her.” he looked at you, eyes clear and sure as ever,

“i liked her when i didn’t even know what liking someone meant. and when i did, i realized it wasn’t the like i thought i had for her. i admired her, sure, but what i felt for her is not even comparable to what i feel for you now. you make me want to become a better man. you make me want to make something of myself. you keep me grounded but you also make me feel like i could fly. you’re the most amazing person, i know and it’s frustrating to think you don’t see yourself the same way i see you.

“and i know you like me too, you can try and pretend all you want but i can tell. because you always listen to me even when you pretend not to. you always have a small smile on your face whenever i come see you in the morning. and then you act as if you don’t care. you always refuse my gifts at first but i know all the things i’ve given you is still in your room. i know you turned the first bouquet into bookmarks. you like me as much as i like you and i know part of the reason why you won’t acknowledge it is because you’re scared. and i can’t exactly blame you because of that. but i’m willing to prove to you that you have nothing to be afraid of. i’ll study harder in school, i’ll take up more responsibility, i’ll prove to you, i can see things through. if you could just give me a chance because you make me want to try, dammit.”

he took a couple of steps forward until he was right in front of you. reaching for your hand and softly engulfing yours with his. never realizing how big it is compared to yours. when you didn’t pull away, he looked at you in the eyes, adjusting his grip so it was intertwined and softly breathing out the words,

“every time i look at you, i feel like my heart is about to jump out of my damned chest. i like you, y/n. i like so much i already wrote to my parents about you.“

he looked at you so softly then, eyes wide in hope.

what do you say to that? james potter the most charming boy in school, your crush ever since you were a first year, likes you. you bit your lip, fighting the growing smile on your face and failing as you utter back,

“all good things i hope.”

he gives a dimpled grin back, “the best, truthful things.”

you cleared your throat, “well, james potter,” tightening your grip on his hand, your meeting that meeting hazel.

“i like you, and i hope you like me back.” you whisper, ignoring the hummingbird in your chest, the alarms in your heads and the tightening skin.

he bit his lip and pulled you flush against him. arms now wrapped around your waist. “no,” he breathed out a laugh, grabbing your cheek before leaning in and slotting his lips with yours into a giddy kiss.

your thumbs slipping into the pretty divots in his cheeks, as soft and smooth as you’ve always imagined them to be.

#perpetuallydaydreaming #james potter #marauders era #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #james potter fanfic #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders fluff #james potter x you #james potter x ravenclaw!reader #ravenclaw!reader #getting together #james potter fanfiction #james potter angst

[peachy-cheeks]

Kusakabe Atsuya A to Z

warnings: nsfw... and didn’t proofread… ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

a/n: ovulating, rewatching season 2, and kinda fixating on maybe my favorite minor male character in jjk... idk i know there are more atsuya stans out here in hiding and i'm sad that there's more fic for like... idk... naoya... than him... like stand up yall, he's excellent, relatable, has a decent backstory, and i kinda wanna give him a kiss. anyway....

Masterlist

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Atsuya's disposition often reads as removed, cold, or unenthusiastic but I like to think of this in two ways: it's a defense mechanism and his job (unfortunately tied to his entire life) is conducive to him acting this way.

All of that to say he's likely the exact opposite one-on-one. Especially when he's completely disarmed by the comfort of his partner— he's the type to cradle and cuddle you, shower you in little pecks, gently move strands of hair out the way to get a better view of your face, and bury his face into your neck to breathe more of you in... You might have to kick him off of you to grab a towel before he falls asleep though.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For him, it’s his forearms. He’s grateful that they’re used to bearing a lot of weight and can still exert a good amount of strength. It also gives him a little endorphin rush to feel the palm of your hands grip onto his arms for leverage and support.

His favorite part of you is a 50/50 split between your breasts and the inner plush of your thighs. The sensation of rubbing against, gripping onto, pinching, and biting the delicate skin excites him, mostly because he knows that he can always get a rise out of you from those areas. Truly he's indecisive, but he knows that the soft warmth feels much better in his grasp than the stiff, weighty tsuka (the main source of the callouses on his fingertips) he's used to reaching for.

C = Cum (What it says on the tin...)

I mean there isn't anything really special about his cum (at least he thinks), but he does love seeing it streaked across your face, glistening in your mouth, running along your chin and down your neck. Guilty pleasure is seeing it in your hair, though he sympathizes with how annoying that can be to deal with so he tries to avoid it.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He absolutely loves when you boss him around. Not that he doesn't already listen to you or that he'd be combative, but he really can't help it if his pants feel just a little tighter every time you tell him what he "needs" to do or even get a little cross with him. Oof... and you potentially praising him for doing something right? Definitely a submissive side he has yet to unpack or even connect the behavior with, though he can totally acknowledge that you taking the reins gives him a chance to step back from the big brother/instructor role for once.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Decently experienced and while he wouldn't divulge his past escapades with you (unless you asked), you can definitely feel the experience in how he touches you. Attentive and confident in how his hands direct your body.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying.)

Indecisive on this as well but he takes deep pleasure in seeing you take control. If he had to list his favorite three, it would be cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, and missionary at the very top.

I mean, he loves seeing you on top but he's a traditionalist and, efficiency-wise, he can reach where you need him most at a faster and harder pace with you under him. Missionary is also the easiest position for him to hold your cheeks between his hand to keep your focus on him.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Again, someone who seems more serious than not. But when he's comfortable and in a non-life threatening situation between the legs of his lover, a tender side of Atsuya shows. Of course, it takes a bit of time... multiple sessions and hours really... of cutting through his reserved attitude, but after a while you find that both of your kisses, moans, and deep, vulnerable sighs are bookended by smiles and giggles. Maybe someone pulled a funny face or decided to give up prematurely on a strenuous position. Maybe you both have a moment of realization that the perfect person is fucking you and you can't help but laugh at your luck.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I have a personal soft-spot for this so walk with me a bit... chest, arms, legs... perfect sprinkle of hair... enough to give a very mature (ugh... dilf-esque) compliment to the toned muscles underneath. A very charming, dark happy trail dusts his lower abs and leads to a nicely trimmed yet fuller tuft of hair above his dick.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Recurring theme here... he's a secret sweetheart. Day-to-day and outside of a dangerous situation, he's a particularly dedicated, caring, and thoughtful person. There's still a reserved quality to how romantic he is PDA-wise. Hand-holding is fine, the occasional well-timed kiss— ideally away from students— is fine, he just prefers to be more chivalrous (acts of service) than overtly affectionate (touch). He's more-so worried about giving himself the ick from being a bit too forward and all over you in public (and in-turn giving you the ick.)

But... when he is all over you, the body worship makes you feel like the only person on earth. It's like he has an innate sense of how to nonverbally rectify anything you may have misread about his feelings for you (from a mix of cultivated experience and natural chemistry). Because he's constantly in minor disbelief about how you want him as much as he wants you, in bed he's very communicative, quick to learn all of your trigger points, and loves to hand out compliments:

"Mm... I remember. That spot's really sensitive... can I kiss you there?"

"Comfortable? Feel like my hands were made for holding you here..."

"Seriously don't get how someone can be as perfect as you..."

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Oh boy... rare now since he's not away from you too often. I think prior to shooting his shot with you he had a major moment of self-discovery where you slowly became the main subject of his spank-bank.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Something about Atsuya makes me think that he's generally vanilla but would be really into subtle power-play. Not committed to the full dom/sub relationship or BDSM as a practice, but loves a little touch of friendly roughness. A hand to his (or your) throat, hair tugging, a few loving slaps, maybe even a little spit-play.

I think shibari/kinbaku would be the furthest he'd go. He respects the beauty of it, the amount of trust and patience it takes to do it right, the learning process, and how much you look like you need him by the end.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Traditionalist... nothing can beat a bedroom. Though the shower is nice... keeping you from slipping gives him a great opportunity to lift. The kitchen table is great too since it offers the perfect leverage. The couch offers the same thing too for a few different positions. Well... I guess as long as it's at home...

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Your smile. It’s really that simple. Seeing you express any amount of joy, let alone share it with him fills him with a type of yearning that he can’t really verbalize. It just makes him want to be as close to you as possible.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Teacher kink... would indulge if you really enjoyed it but reminds him entirely too much of work 😭

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

He enjoys giving and isn't bad at it by any means but you swear something very repressed and primal unveils itself when he locks eyes with you on your knees, mouth open, and doe-eyed. He tries to be gentle about it at least.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

This can vary since he enjoys almost any pace as long as it's with you. With setting a pace he really keeps an eye out for what he thinks you'd prefer at the moment. I think there's always a point where he can't hold back but he strategizes around and prioritizes getting you off... depends on how much time you both have. But hey, if the pace happens to start out needy and desperate...

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not against a quickie, but as mentioned, defers to your mood on how to proceed. For him, the most likely scenario of needing a quickie (because he’d prefer to just be late or cancel whatever was cutting into your time) would be on campus; a taboo that he hates to admit actually excites him.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He's willing to experiment with you and anyone he's had an extended relationship with, but frankly speaking the limits of his own risk-taking imagination run fairly short (apart from speculating on what places you two could get away with hooking up.) But if you can show him something new, he's likely game (though, nothing super bloody or violent... just not his thing.)

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

He blames it on getting older but, normally, twice in one go is maybe the best he can do. Definitely exceptions to this... say someone feels particularly giving, there's a special occasion (anniversaries, birthdays, coming back from an assignment, a nice date night), or maybe you two lucked out and have a whole weekend, unbusy and unbothered, together.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He seems like a very simple, no-frills guy. But if you have any favorites to bring to the table, that'd likely pique his interest.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

Atsuya aims to please so his teasing (just light petting, groping, and sweet whispers) is typically relegated to foreplay. Beyond this, he likes to give you very simple, sometimes curt, directions to follow while he’s fucking you. He doesn’t fully restrict you (most of the time) or prevent you from chasing your high but he likes to put small roadblocks and rules to bargain on in your way:

“Hey, look at me. Don’t touch. I’ll do it if you look at me. Mmhmm… keep your eyes here. Good... Feel good? That what you wanted?”

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Not loud, per-say, but does have a habit of moaning into your mouth, against your ear, or just against your body in general. Maybe he’s a little too shy to moan aloud and feels safer relinquishing these rare sounds to you only.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Atsuya definitely has an oral fixation. He deeply misses smoking– especially a post-sex cigarette– but he doesn’t mind if you indulge. Actually, he really looks forward to seeing you have one. Over the years he’s wisened up to the fact that smoke deteriorates the body but he still finds something enticing about the act of sucking on death itself. Especially the way you do it (of course, he does want you to live a long, prosperous life…)

You always offer him a hit but he’s principled enough to look and not touch… he also keeps a few candies in a couple of different drawers around the house, so he’s covered. On the more current end of his oral fixation, he loves sharing lollipops with you. Even better when you steal a kiss with the candy caught between both your lips.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Tanned shaft (that he loves feeling you squeeze against), darker pink tip (that he loves feeling you suck on), wonderful shape with a few prominent veins and an upward tilt. Girth-y and not unbearably long, but even when he's not hard there's a decent chub.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

He would say he has a very unremarkably normal libido though you’d say otherwise. Again, he tries to reel back on PDA but when you’re both lounging around, cooking, doing chores around the house, getting dressed, and other regular daily activities he can get quite handsy and heart-eyed.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Leaves a bit of space (let's say an hour... hour and thirty tops) for a sweet and short make-out, pillow-talk, and cleanup but otherwise ready to sleep like a swaddled baby and will most likely be the big spoon.

#jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fic #jjk scenarios #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #a to z #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #kusakabe atsuya x reader #kusakabe atsuya #atsuya kusakabe

[harlowcomehome]

Love somebody like you:

Gif by @harlowgifs

⚠️: Intoxication.

Jack hadn’t responded to your texts in a few days, which was abnormal considering the two of you had been inseparable the last few months.

You had only worked with Chris and Neelam for a few months when Jack's entire world imploded, and he needed an unbiased point of view.

He gravitated towards you immediately, the two of you spending massive amounts of time together.

It was purely platonic, at least on Jack's end. He had been going through an emotional and rocky divorce and you had been his shoulder to cry on both metaphorically and physically.

You knew it was wrong to be attached to him, especially at a time when he was so vulnerable but you’d take whatever attention he was willing to give you.

You were starting to worry, especially when you showed up to the office and realized that nobody had heard from him all weekend.

He always checked in especially when it came to work-related commitments, which was something he rarely if ever put on the back burner.

“Maggie said he isn’t even answering her calls” Neelam sighed, looking to Chris for suggestions.

“We know he’s alive because he’s been using his credit cards” You chimed in, it was your job to organize and control his finances.

“I think you should stop by his place” Chris turned to you, Neelam nodding in agreement. The two of them thought you were good for Jack, knowing he didn’t confide in a lot of people and realizing how quickly he seemed to trust you.

“Me? Why me?”

“You’re basically his best friend” Neelam shrugged as she shuffled through some legal documents for the umpteenth time.

You hated that strings of words “best friend” when it came to Jack. What did that even mean? You might be HIS best friend but he was more than that to you.

You left the office immediately trying his phone for the third time today, and getting his voicemail box, making the pit of your stomach ache.

“Come on, Jack” you sucked your teeth before ordering an Uber to his place, the drive wasn’t far from the office.

You had wondered what was going on with him, the last time you saw one another he had been seemingly doing better.

When you got to his apartment building, you could hear music blaring from inside his place.

His neighbor Janet was just arriving home, dressed in her white doctor coat. She eyed you up and down before recognizing you, and giving you a soft smile.

“He’s been like that for a few days now.”

You thanked her for the information before pushing your way inside, unlocking his door with the emergency key he had given you a few weeks back.

His house was in shambles, cereal bowls and pizza boxes everywhere. You could tell he had company and likely a lot of it, he was snoring on the couch, in a tank top that was stained, likely with pizza sauce and mucus from all his tears.

Your heart broke, knowing this wasn’t like him at all. You cleaned up as best as you could without making much noise, finally shutting off his music that was far too loud in the first place before you walked over to him.

You gently shook him, startling him awake as he instinctively wiped the drool from his face.

“Y/N? What’re you doing here?” He sat up quickly on the couch, covering his mouth with his hand.

“What’re you doing?” You laughed at his wide eyes and startled facial expression, his mind barely realizing how you could’ve got inside.

“I can’t remember the last time I brushed my teeth.” He was embarrassed to admit it, realizing now that his entire place was in shambles. His curls were matted and greasy and he had a stench of body odor and booze radiating off of him.

“Go take a shower and then we’ll talk?” You had this calming aura about you that he found magnetic, meaning he was happy to agree.

He got up and went to his primary bedroom to take a shower while you filled trash bags up with empty food containers.

When he finally emerged from the bedroom he was in clean clothes and had enough cologne on to wilt a small garden. He was embarrassed at the state you found him in, hoping you’d forget it soon enough.

“You didn’t have to help me. I would’ve done it” he scratched the back of his neck as he realized the three giant trash bags full of trash.

“Respectfully? Shut up” you giggled, making him loosen up too as he matched your energy with a chuckle.

He nervously tied the trash bags shut, knowing what your follow-up question would be. The two of you had agreed on a phrase, letting you know if he had interacted with his ex-wife recently.

“Did you relapse?” You avoided his eye contact knowing his emotional icy eyes would affect you.

“No, I mean- sort of” he felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Truthfully he knew how you felt about him, he knew that you were falling for him but he also knew he wasn’t in the position to be in a committed relationship and he selfishly didn’t want to lose your companionship.

Your breathing changed, you knew you'd have to bite back tears as he explained the last few days in detail. You turned to face him, faking a smile.

“Lay it on me.” You poured yourself a glass of wine, following him to the couch that desperately needed to be febreezed.

“Can you pour me one too?” Jack asked noticing you had only pulled one glass out of the cabinet.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea” you mumbled and he silently agreed before taking a seat on the couch.

Jack went into detail about how his ex-wife showed up Friday evening and spoke about how she and him spent that night christening every room in his new apartment.

You winced knowing just how awful she had been to him the last few months. He had cried on your lap too many times, and you were frustrated that he entertained her yet again.

You tried not to outright show your disapproval, but he felt it anyway.

“I know, I know” he sighed, sitting back on the couch. “But that’s completely done now” he reassured you, reaching for your knee and giving it a light squeeze.

“Didn’t you move here so she didn’t have your address?” You downed the rest of the wine in your glass, knowing you were likely leaving sooner than expected.

“What are you? My mother?” He laughed, partly joking but with a slight tone of annoyance.

“No but speaking of she’s been worried sick about you.”

He rolled his eyes, scoffing at how this conversation had taken a turn. His family was always a touchy subject.

“Tell her I’m alive, I really don’t want to talk to anyone right now.” He yawned, something about his demeanor changed and you could tell he was irritated with you.

“Is that why you’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls?” You’d admit that it came out a little more hot-tempered than you initially wanted it to.

“Well I mean- on Saturday we just went right back to hating one another so I threw a party here and I’ve been tired. What does it even matter?” he was defensive.

“A party?”

“I had to get over her somehow” he shrugged, pushing your buttons purposefully now.

You felt the feelings of intense jealousy creeping up on you. You channeled it into disapproval, standing up and handing him his dead cell phone that was on his messy glass coffee table.

“You might want to charge that” you bitterly replied, looking for your purse that you had set aside as you walked in.

“Are you mad that it was her? Or mad that it isn’t you?” Jack staggered to his feet, swaying a bit.

You were frozen, wondering if you had heard him correctly. You swiftly turned to him, tracing his facial expressions with your eyes.

“Did you think I didn’t know?” He chuckled, and you realized he had to still be pumped with liquid courage from the night before, this wasn’t like him.

“Shut up. You’re being an asshole” your voice trembled, tears fighting to escape you.

“It’s not my fault you’re in love with me” he shrugged, a smirk spread across his face.

“I’m not in love with you. Why would I be in love with someone like you?” You finally found your purse and stood by the door getting ready to leave.

He was taken aback by that comment, his ego bruised from his fresh divorce.

“I- I mean. Are you not?”

“I’d never love someone like you” you lied. You lied with everything you had, knowing you had to be convincing as you slammed the door shut to his apartment and burst into tears in his hallway.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagines #Jack Harlow fanfic

[dokoni-mo]

Warm Water || William Afton x GN! Reader

summary: you find yourself exausted, but he knows just what to do.

mostly SFW // Fluff

word count : 3773

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20, Will is almost 40), dom/sub undertones, secret relationship, will is obsessive but not as much in this one, fluff, kisses, non-sexual nudity, cuddling, Willy has scars, pet names, exhaustion, hickeys, swearing, Will likes being called sir i just know it, cuddling, non-sexual intimacy, not very proofread, also just laregly a lot of rambling adfjafk idk im so tired, very very slight sexual themes so minors dni

a/n: i'm tagging my normal people for Crave (aka the peepaw chronicles) for this because it does take place in the same universe, but i'll leave it up to interpretation on whether or not you deem it cannon to the story (so im sorry if you didn't want to be tagged!!),, this is probably the most-self indulgent thing i've ever written so please bear with me,, i'm just very tired from school LMAOO and wanted to write smth more fluffy with willy and his lil bun

~~~

William Afton fucking hated baths. He hated a lot of things, but baths were probably towards the top of the list.

Even thinking about them made his skin crawl. Just the thought of sitting there, in your own dirt and grime? In a stuffy, humid room next to where the toilet is? Disgusting. He didn't consider himself to be a germaphobe, no. That wasn't it at all. He worked with children on a Monday-through-Friday basis. He wasn't scared of germs or getting sick. He'd built up quite the immune system over the years of working at the diner.

He just found the notion of sitting there like a big, sweaty dumpling inside of a soup comprised of water and your own dirt, sweat, and germs revolting.

But you liked them. You liked them a lot.

It was one of the few things William didn't quite understand about you. How could you like something so gross? You had explained your reasoning to him before when he had first found out. Something about how the warmth all around you was comforting, as well as the various different soaps and scents you could use to spruce it up. But, try as you might to explain it, he still didn't understand. Couldn't a shower do the same thing? Without you having to sit in your own filth?

Whatever. He wasn't going to argue with you about it. His bunny enjoyed many strange things, but he wasn't going to take any enjoyment away from them just because he didn't understand. He loved you. He'd never do such a thing.

As out-of-character as it was for him, he found himself buying more bath-related things to secretly store away in his bathroom. For when you came over, of course. You seemed to appreciate it when he gave the array of soaps and other liquids to you, giving him a nice kiss on the cheek. As much as he didn't understand your reasoning, your little smile was all he cared about at the end of the day. He could tolerate your conflicting views. That's what love is all about, isn't it?

William didn't share too many disagreements with you. Not as much as he initially expected when he first made you his. You were soulmates, after all. It's only natural you share similar perspectives.

It was both a blessing and a curse, however. As much as William liked how similar you were, there was a few things he wished he kept for himself and himself only. Such as the work-ethic the two of you shared.

The older man was somewhat of a workaholic. While he reserved the weekends for you and only you, he was much different during the week. He would spend extra hours at the diner frequently. And, when he wasn't at his restaurant, he was tinkering away at some side-project down in his cellar. It wasn't very healthy, but it's how he liked to do things. Gave him character, but also made his hair turn grey.

You liked his grey hairs, though. And he was still handsome with it.

But, his bunny was the same way. You being in college, you had a lot of work to do. Sometimes so much that you'd have to bring your assignments over to his house on the weekends and do them there, even though the two of you agreed long ago that the weekends were couple time. You were a driven little thing. William could see it when he got to watch you work, in the pain in your lower back and shoulders, and in the dark circles under your precious eyes when you fell asleep next to him.

Poor bunny. He didn't want you to work so hard. It hurt his heart seeing you so stressed all the time. Your schooling is important, yes, but you mustn't be so hard on yourself. You're a clever little rabbit. You don't need to devote so much of your time on work, surely not.

Besides, sometimes, William couldn't help but feel a little jealous when all your attention was on your books and papers rather than him.

This was one of those times.

With the turn of the seasons, your professors had also swamped you with several different tests and assignments to turn in sooner rather than later. You never really liked to complain about it to William, he found, but he could tell that the pressure was weighing on you. This had been the third weekend in a row that you had brought your coursework over to his house, your nose buried in the pages; your eyes on the words rather than him.

William kept you company while you worked to have himself nearby, but he couldn't help but be a little peeved. The weekends were sir and bunny's time. Not boring old college.

The brit was watching your back as you scribbled away in your notebook, sitting on the floor in front of him with his coffee table used as your make-shift desk. You had been at it since the moment you finished the breakfast he made you this morning, and now the Utah sun was just starting to creep below the horizon. Worry was in the older man's grey eyes. When was the last time he saw you stand up? Or even scurry yourself to the bathroom? Or get a drink of water? He couldn't remember. And that wasn't good.

He was a patient man, yes, and did value a college education. But William was tired of waiting for you. He barely gets to see his adorable bunny during the week. He'd rather spend this time with you curled up in his bed, closer to him on his lap, or just talking to you. But you hadn't said a word in hours. Even though you were right in front of him, he missed his bunny. And the amount you were working was getting a little ridiculous for his tastes.

"Love?" He asked you through the silence, gently reaching out a hand and rubbing circles into your back, "Are you almost done? It's getting late, little one."

He watched as you looked over your shoulder towards him, but not enough to have your full attention. You seemed just a tad annoyed with him, but he understood. When you were concentrated, you didn't much like him disturbing you.

But he didn't much like not having you in his arms right now.

"Umm..." you breathed, "I dunno, Will. I have, like... two chapters left? To take notes on? So just a little longer, okay?"

The older man felt his jaw clench, "You said that three hours ago, bunny."

"I know, I just... I need to get this done before the deadline. I'm sorry."

"And when exactly is all this due then, hm?"

"Uh... friday?"

"It's Saturday, love."

"I know, I know, just... Just gimme one more hour. Then I promise I'll be done."

William let out a sigh. You had said that three hours ago, too.

The brit watched as you went back to scribbling away in your notebook, finding himself more annoyed. Not at you, of course, but by the situation. You didn't need to work this hard, no. You were William's bunny, after all. You shouldn't ever need to lift a finger around him. But, you were a workaholic just like he was. You liked doing things yourself

He loved and hated you for it.

His fingertips still on your back, William felt his other hand reach up to smooth your hair away from your face. Even though he didn't get a direct shot of you, he could tell that you were tired. He could see the dark circles under your eyes from his spot on the couch, and the slight redness that had crept into them. Hell, your back must be aching too from sitting on the ground for so long. And didn't your pretty little head hurt? Surely it did.

Sweet bunny. You needed a break. You needed to be done for the day. Plain and simple.

Reaching forward, William pressed a few soft, warm kisses to the side of your cheek and hair as he took your pencil away from you, laying it on the table. When you turned around at him to protest, he seized the opportunity to capture your lips into his, lingering on your sweet taste for perhaps longer than he should have. He pulled back and brought his hands close, cradling your jaw a few inches away from his face.

"I think you've done far enough for today, little one." He said to you, using his thumbs to caress your cheeks, "Wouldn't you agree?"

He could feel your cheeks heat slightly under his touch, "Will, if I finish today, I'll have time to visit your office during the week. So I really need to finish."

William let out a chuckle. He always did like having you in his office. It was cute you were thinking of him.

"But you're here now, my love." He said, "And I want you now."

"I... I want you too, but-"

William shushed you before you could continue, leaning in and giving you another sweet, long kiss.

The brit pulled away, looking into your tired eyes again, "You work far too hard, bunny. You'll burn yourself out. And I want my little rabbit to be happy, yeah?"

You nodded in response.

"Of course I do. And I'd hope you'd want the same for yourself, yes?"

You nodded again, "Yes... sir."

William's soft smile widened as he let out a pleased hum, "Good bunny. Now, why don't we relax a bit, hm? You've definitely earned it, my darling."

He watched as your cheeks heated up some more, your eyes flickering downward, "I... I think I'm gonna be too tired to-"

The brit chuckled, "No, love, no. I'm not talking about that. I was thinking of something a little different for tonight."

"Like what?"

"You still like baths, right bunny?"

"Yeah? Why?"

William couldn't believe he was saying this. But, he knew it'd have to be something special to get you away from your work. Luckily, he knew just what to do. Even if it wrecked his pride just a hair.

"Would you care to join me for one?"

You furrowed your brow in confusion at his words, but a soft smile still remained out of amusement.

"Join you? For a bath?" You asked.

"Yes, love."

You let out a little laugh, "Will, you hate baths. You've made that really clear over these last few months."

William let out a hum, brushing some more hair away from your face, "Yes, I do. But I love you far more than I hate them. And I know they're always relaxing for you, love. And I want to help you do just that. You're tired, bunny. I can see it."

He leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead.

"Just let me take care of you." He continued, "Like I promised I would. Can you do that for me, love?"

The older man saw how your smile widened at his words, "Fine, fine. Just promise me you're not gonna complain the whole time."

"Of course not, bunny. Now, come here. Let me pick you up, yeah?"

William took you wrapping your arms around his neck as you accepting his invitation. Leaning down a little more, he scooped you up into his arms and held you close, pressing a kiss to your blushy cheek a you giggled as his strength. Your legs wrapped around his waist, he carried you all the way from his living room into his master-bathroom, placing you down so you could sit on the lidded-toilet.

Rolling up his dress-shirt sleeves, William opened up the cabinet under his sink and looked at the vast array of bath materials he had collected for you. He pulled out each one and laid them on the ground, making sure the labels were pointed towards you so that you could read them.

Once all of the products were out, the brit closed the cabinet and took a knee in front of you for you to discuss with him which ones you wanted to use.

"Do you even know what these things are?" You asked, picking up a clear bottle to read it more closely.

"If I'm being honest, love," he said, "I have no idea. The woman at the shop helped me pick a lot of them out."

You giggled again, "Well, this here is a bubble-bath. You put it in the water while it's running and it makes a lot of bubbles. And that baggie is bath salts. It just makes the bath, like... mineral-y."

The older man quirked a brow, "Mineral-y?"

"It's hard to describe! It's just good for your skin."

"I see." William reached down and picked up a pinkish jar, "What about this? It doesn't look like you've used it that much."

"Oh, those are petal-soaps. They look like flower petals but they're actually soap. They dissolve in the water after a while. They make the water smell like roses too! I was saving them for a special occasion."

"Well, is this a special enough occasion?"

"Getting the Mr. Afton into a bath? Hell yeah it is."

William chuckled, "You flatter me, bunny."

You smiled back at him, "The petals and the bubble-bath will be nice. That's what I wanna use."

"If you say so, love."

With your final approval on the products being used, William shifted himself over to his large, porcelain-white bath, reaching in and stopping the drain before turning the hot-water valve on. The sound of the water hitting the dry tub filled the air, the pipes creaking just a tad at the rare usage. While the water poured down, the brit used the opportunity to pour in some of the bubble bath liquid. William then let the water run for a few minutes more, leaving his fingertips under the water until it warmed up.

"Is this too hot for you, bunny?" He asked. You reached forward past the older man to feel the water.

"Nah, it's good. I like it to be real warm."

"Perfect. Wait here then."

Shaking the water off his hand, William stood up from his kneeling position over to one of the longer, taller cabinets nearby. Reaching inside, he pulled out a few of his favorite soft, lush purplish-grey towels, walking back over and handing one to you.

"Here, love." He said, "So you don't freeze to death before the bath fills up."

You took the towel with a soft thank you as you stood up from your seat on the toilet. You turned away from the brit as you pulled your shirt off over your head, his eyes fixated on your bare back as he unbuttoned his dress shirt. As you slipped off your pants and underwear, William could see the ghosts of former hickeys he had given you past weekends on your shoulders and thighs. You were a good bunny and didn't try and cover them up with any makeup or anything, just like he wanted. The more recent ones were fading, though.

He'd have to fix that soon.

He continued to watch as you kicked all your clothes into a pile by the foot of the bath and wrapped the towel around you. Your nude body no longer available for him to see, he went back to removing his own clothes.

Once they were all off, and neatly folded on the edge of his sink, William wrapped his towel around his lower half and stepped closer to you. You were watching the water fill up and he snaked his long, scarred arms around your middle, pulling you close to his chest. He could feel how you smiled as he pressed his kisses into your hair.

"I love you, bunny." He mumbled against you, feeling your little hands glide over the scars on his forearms as you leaned back against him.

"I love you too, Will." you responded.

He continued his assault of kisses onto your cheek and jaw, "Are you feeling any better, my love?"

"Definitely. I didn't even realize how tired I was."

William let out a hum as his kisses found your neck, "You have been working for almost 12 full hours, bunny."

"Oh my god, really?"

"Mhm."

You let out a groan, "Oh my god, that's so embarrassing. I'm sorry, Will. I didn't even realize. You must've been so bored."

"Don't apologize, little one. I know how much your Uni means to you."

"Yeah, but still... I feel bad. I don't want you to be bored. And we only get to see each other on weekends. It doesn't help I already pissed half of it away."

"It's not your job to entertain me, love. You know just having you here is enough."

"But I don't wanna be just enough. I wanna be like... better. Because you do so much for me. I... I feel like I don't try hard enough sometimes. And I'm sorry."

William let out a sympathetic hum and he lifted your chin up to him, giving your lips a sweet, reassuring peck.

"Everything about you is perfect, bunny. I wouldn't change one thing about you. You try more than you realize."

"How?"

"Well, you did say you were working so late because you wanted to see me in my office, yeah?"

"Yeah..."

"And why is that?"

"Because I know you like it when I do."

William gave you another kiss, "See?"

You smiled at your own silliness, standing on your tip-toes to kiss him one last time, "Fine, fine. You win."

William smiled to match your own, "You worry too much, bunny. I understand what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I love you, and nothing's going to ever change that."

"What if I was ugly?"

"You're not ugly, love."

"But what if I was?"

"I'd still love you."

"What if, like, I only spoke in rhymes or something?"

"It'd be... odd, but I'd still love you."

You giggled, "What if I burned down the diner?"

"Well... you know, I never really liked it much. You'd honestly be doing me a favor, love. So I'd probably love you even more."

"Should I go do it then?"

"Maybe later, bunny. Looks like our bath is full."

Giving you one last kiss on your cheek, William padded over to the running faucet and turned off the valve. In his peripheral, he saw you grab the can of the fake petals and open it up, grabbing a fistful and throwing the small soaps on top of the bubbles. The reddish-pink hue contrasted greatly over the white bubbles and water, making the bath look rather pretty. William was impressed.

William allowed himself to step into the bath first, unwrapping his lower half, folding and placing the towel on the ground nearby. The bubbles dispersing around him, William made sure that water was still a good temperature for you before he sat down in the bath. Once situated, he held out his hand for you.

Placing your soft, small palm in his, you let your towel drop to the floor as you got in the bath yourself. Using his hand as a balance, you sunk your legs in beneath the bubbles as you sat down in the water as well. William spread his bare legs apart beneath the water to make room for you, holding onto your waist and guiding you to lean back against him. You followed his silent order, your bare back against his scarred chest as you rested your head on his strong shoulder. The man pressed a few kisses to your hair as he wrapped his arms around you beneath the water. You relaxed against him easily, and your eyes fluttered shut at the warm feeling around you.

"Is it too hot, bunny?" He asked you, already knowing what you would say, but still wanting to make sure.

"It's perfect, Will." You mumbled, "Thank you."

The brit felt himself smile, "There's no need to thank me, little one. I'm just happy I got you to myself now."

You breathed out a laugh, "Didn't like third-wheeling my textbook, hm?"

"Not at all." He pressed another kiss to your cheek, "You're mine. I should never be the third wheel."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to."

"I know. It's alright. Just relax, bunny."

Leaning down to press more kisses into the back of your neck, William lifted up his wet hands out of the water, making a splash echo through the bathroom. Steadily, he grabbed onto your shoulders and rubbed firm, massaging circles into your back with his thumbs and the heels of his palms. You shut your eyes tighter at the feeling, a few low groans escaping the back of your throat.

"Feel good?" He asked. All you could do was nod as he chuckled, "Good. I'm glad. Your muscles are quite firm, love. You shouldn't be sitting on the floor like that for so long."

"If I got on the couch," you said, "I knew you wouldn't let me get off it again and back to work."

William laughed, "You know me far too well, bunny."

"You're just very predictable sometimes."

"Oh? Am I now?"

You nodded again, "Only sometimes though. Like today when I woke up, I would've never guessed you'd be in here with me right now."

"I can't say I predicted that either, love."

You breathed out a laugh, "If you don't like it, you don't have to stay, Will."

"No, no." William pressed more kisses to the back of your neck, rubbing deeply into your more firm muscles, "I actually think it's rather nice in here."

"Really? Or are you just trying to not make me feel bad?"

"I mean it, love. It's nice. But, perhaps I'm biased. How could I not enjoy being so close to my precious rabbit, hm?"

Your smile grew as you leaned back against his chest again, making his arms return to their home around your waist. You had scooted down so that your head rested more so on his collarbone, allowing you to look up at him more clearly, and him at you.

"Along with predictable," you said, "You're also really cheesy sometimes."

"Oh, you love it though, don't you bunny?"

"I do." You leaned up and gave the brit a kiss on the jaw, "And I love you too. Thank you for everything tonight, Will. I really appreciate it."

The older man felt his heart swell in his chest as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Anytime, my love. Anytime."

~~~

tags: @guinea-pig16 @the-official-memester @randomwriteralan @mrsrogerwaters @laylaaftonshit @cherry-slushee @insert-memical-username @mrssafton @horrorking2000 @artist-anon08 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @jamiethenerdymonster @kimyona-san @purplewolfcoffee @violetlmfaoo

apologies to any blogs tumblr wont let me tag!! as well as anyone who didn't want to be tagged (pls let me know if you don't want to be tagged in all Willy works :)) )

#william afton x you #william afton x reader #william afton #fnaf x y/n #fnaf x reader #fnaf x you #afton x reader #dave miller x reader

[franki-lew-yo]

An 'A-ha!' fandom moment, ft. The Owl House

These comments I screencapped from a user I watch elsewhere really hit like a brick in the face to me. I'm blotting out OP's name, mostly cuz this was just a shower thought they had rather than any meaningful open discussion with people, but it ended up making me realize something (also NO they're not some contrarian AntiSJW type or even hate TOH; they're a very gay+trans writer themselves. Sorry if youknowwhoyouare sees this and recognizes ur posts but you don't allow reblogs or comments and I wanted to present it on my own):

The Owl House was always hampered by being killed halfway through, writing wise and that will always be it's greatest 'sin'. However, OP's comment made me realize how much the show kind of tells you it's characters are flawed rather than actually give them arcs to suggest it, especially in season 1. When I say flawed I don't mean lacking quirks that are relatable but human: Eda is a recluse criminal; King thought he could kill people and acted like it; Luz is a genki girl; Amity starts off as a bully; Hunter...is unfortunately Hunter, ect. Those ARE flaws, character wise, but in the presence of the complete story (as complete as the show will ever be) they really aren't actually flawed, bad people in anyway.

Before I go further, two things: 1, IN ALL FAIRNESS, this is why myself and others particularly LOVE the characters and why TOH was a comfort show for me rather than a 'high-tension narrative'. The characters are a lot of what you want and hope to be like and I think that's really sweet and enjoyable, especially for horror and especially for kids.

2, NO! I DON'T think any particular bad faith cartoon reviewer opinions about coddling certain characters and punishing others IS WHAT DANA and co did at all here! Steven Universe and certain crap-reviewer's takes ON Steven Universe and how it's characters were flawed but overly forgiven by the fandom the show itself are NOT the b-all end-all of this discussion, nor are they the reason The Owl House is the way it is!

The context op was talking about was how in the upcoming hate crime The Last Airbender live-action show the showrunners are going to tone down Sokka's sexism because they think it's 'unlikable'. Even though, we all knew as children that this was an arc for him and it was WRONG, so axing it because we the audience lack nuance to recognize characters we love doing problamtic-sisms is BEYOND annoying.

Op's point is how The Owl House in particular doesn't actually expect much or want much out of it's characters. Or audience. For any infighting early on about how much Amity should 'die' because of reasons, that's really just fandom infighting when you get right down to it. There's nothing on par with the disagreement people have over, say, the Diamonds from Steven Universe and how Steven 'totally forgave them or 'should have murdered them in cold blood' about The Owl House. And like...from a fandom point of view that's good, but otherwise the show is pretty concrete the way you're supposed to see certain characters vs other shows which allow you to make up your own mind.

Avatar, Star vs the Forces of Evil (pre finale), Centaurworld and Amphibia all showcase your protagonists being genuinely, intensely flawed. Sure, maybe some neckbreather crap-pseudocritic complains that they 'made the unlikable' or whatever (i.e. me with Friendship is Magic) but overall the actual point is HOW the characters actually have grown and have ended up with the ending and morality they need. The villains, no not Zukos or 'redeemed' villains who joined the protagonist squad, VILLAIN-villains, will always be at least one serious step behind the protagonists and that's what give the protagonists the cautionary wherewithal to end them like they should and not 'be like them'. It's such a fufilling narrative, there's a reason people like it so much because it's really good when it's delivered well.

Removed from my fandom gaze; the Owl House feels like it's saying it has that ultimate messaging and character arc when it actually doesn't. Your protagonists have the endearing aspirational-part totally covered, but as far as the actual 'edge' and nuance? Well...

Eda is, at most, naughty. She really isn't any kind of morally sidetracked character. She's an outlaw because literally her society is awful to her and she's in the right to be against it. She's cursed but she's not addicted to her potions or hiding it or not really taking care of herself or her loved ones because of it. Her actual biggest flaw is that she's been 'running away' from problems rather than dealing with them, but I'd be lying if that wasn't suggested more than it's actually portrayed; or at least, dealt with fast enough in "Eda's Requiem". A bigger issue I see, even if it's what's also endearing about her, is that she REALLY isn't a flawed caregiver at all. It's portrayed as her most redeeming feature that she's otherwise a good mom and mentor, but Eda having virtually no problems in raising Luz and King just, again, makes her feel ONLY aspirational. All of the angst about 'failing' to parent and making up for it is moved all onto Camilla and sadly all of that angst for her is mostly within an already bloated episode. Eda, while an absolute mood, lacks any real kind of edge. Does she need it or not? I don't know. Discuss, kids.

Luz, like OP says, is treated like this high-energy super-optimist. She's like Star Butterfly in that her fangirlism and impulsivness are supposed to get her in trouble. But, she absolutely just isn't one when you break it down. Besides episode 2, Luz really is never that inconsiderate or lost in her fantasies ever again throughout the show. She never has anything like what Steven goes through where he hops into Larz' body and makes things worse for people by trying to fix things- which is not only good filler but it calls forward to the ultimate ending of Steven's arc for the series - Luz is just sort of adorable. Luz has blindsided by hype moments of weakness, like when she accidentally hurts Owlbert or messes with Amity's secret room, but still always level headed and down-to-earth. Her impulses are always kind of treated like...excusable? Because, again, they usually are. This is a large part about what makes her self-hatred at the end of the show about accidentally helping Belos' feel 'forced'. Even MOREso than what Hunter and Daddy Titan explain about Belos using her, we the audience never see Luz's choice to go back in time and try and get answers from Philip as being anything other than just, you know, logical. Because it is. The show acts like what Luz did was reckless and bad and that she was SOOO overtaken by her fangirlism about Philip and now just how much she has to live with the guilt and regret of helping being duped by him...it just doesn't come off that way at all. She was only so much excited about meeting him and her interest was getting home to her mother. In terms of comparing her to Philip, that's all fine and good, but again it's not 'flawed'. Not really, anyway.

Lilith absolutely has it the worst...but I kinda think people know that. She arguably does have the most morally-gray turning point in the show given what she did to her own sister. But neither the characters nor her nor the show really hold her accountable in any lasting way for cursing Eda. Lilith is the closest we get to that 'Diamond'-dilemma. She does 'make things right way too quickly and it's obvious to even her biggest fans that her character is really rushed in this area. They lampshade what Lilith did and that she was their villain in season 2 and 2B, but lampshading isn't the same thing as progress. As a result, as a Lilith fan you kind of never really forgive her for what she did. None of that's her fault, cause' you know...she doesn't exist, but it makes it frustrating that you the fan watching the show is doing the heavy-lifting in your mind in this area.What you come away from is this feeling of loving the characters for being able to work everything out. They're engaging and nuanced in theory, but you also feel robbed, w or w/o the Disney interference, of them being fully rounded or WHOLE. It kinda feels like 'and suddenly, he wasn't racist, anymore' all the time with every character ever with except Amity's mom, the Titan Trappers and Belos.

The reason everyone dunks on Star vs the Forces of Evil's finale, (besides being salty over ship wars and declaring THAT'S the reason for the drop in quality) is that 'Cleaved' could have not only worked but REALLY worked. It just needed to be better written and processed as an ending. Instead people reviled Star, the protagonist we're supposed to be rooting for, for what feels like impulsive apathy and cruelty towards everyone else by destroying magic, as opposed to it being an actually selfless sacrifice that makes her different than Toffee. Ultimatley, I do prefer The Owl House, unfinished as it is, to any of that. But yeah... I can now never unsee the characters as being what they are: fun but indulgent when they're supposedly complex. Indulgent is never bad u guys, but the problem is when you only have that to go on while insisting you have fully developed characters, there's a lot of the show telling you how to feel and how to come away from it rather than letting you, the audience, make of that yourself. As annoying as fan-wars can be over this stuff and when people are either WAAAY to forgiving of their villain blorbo or form hate-campaigns over Glub Shitto for ruining their life, it is ultimately a good thing that shows give you that chance to really see the characters that way at all.

The Owl House is, as OP calls it, "tumblr feels" not for being gay and magical and fun and wholesome and indulgent like that stuff is GREAT. It feels 'tumblr oriented' in that it all kind of feels too easy even when it's not for your protagonists. It's never actually "challenging". I guess, in as far as 'good' indulgence is concerned, it's as warm and fuzzy and a happy AU fanfic you found but not so much the Pacifist Ending of Undertale where you really do feel bad if you rectify the good ending in anyway. It's fun and it's comfort food, but not entirely lasting as you want it to be???

Amphibia, I think, was also way better than Owl House in this respect. It wasn't perfect cause nothing is but you really got a feeling for HOW flawed Marcy, Sasha, the townsfolk and even Hop Pop throughout their arcs-- which made it so SO rewarding to see them get their happy endings and come together to defeat the core and be the better people they needed to become.

The Owl House is my favorite where I think Amphibia is the better of the two.

#ramble #the owl house #toh critical #good lord did any of this make any sense Idk #franki's features #I guess technically King had the most fufilled arc #considering he thought he was a dictator-realized he wasn't-and then w he found out his true past was horrified by it but coped #discuss

[the-ineffable-cross]

Vampire Empire by Big Thief from the lens of Good Omens (Mainly Crowley)

This will be a massive post so I'M SO SORRY

BUT I LOVE THIS SONG AND I'M SO EXCITED TO DO THIS AHHHH

Lyrics are in red like this

LETS BEGIN HEHEHEHEHE

(I will skip the parts of the songs that are repeated UNLESS they have a new meaning in relation to other parts of the song)

The song has a whole meaning but my brain is going psycho with how AziraCrow this is

Watching TV tired, bleeding on the bed The milk has just expired, all the leaves are dead I'm not quiet, you've been quiet, just receiving what you said Reeling, feeding, feeling, filled by everything you fed

In my mind I view this section as a lot like how I envision Crowley after Ineffable Divorce the argument at the end of season 2. The line about leaves represent that Crowley has not energy to continue taking care of his plants seeing as his best friend (read: one true love) has left Earth. Line three is talking about how he has gotten no word from Aziraphale, he's quiet. But Crowley isn't. He's rambling, yelling, screaming about his absence. He's getting into fights and god hes tired.

I see you as you see yourself through all the books you read Overwhelmed with guilt and realizing the disease

Crowley sees Aziraphale through the veil of his books now because what else does he have to remember him by? He left nothing behind but his books, bookstore and old memories turned sour.

The second line represents that after Aziraphale goes back up to heaven, overwhelmed with his guilt for what happened and over time realising that 'the disease' is the mentality (Wars are meant to be won, not avoided) both heaven AND hell have.

You give me chills, I've had it with the drills

I see this as Crowley talking to both Heaven and Hell. In this scenario, drills is armageddon/the end of earth. He talks about how both 'give him chills' and hes done with both of them and the 'drills' which can represent the repeated attacks on Earth and it describes them as militaristic drills: exhausting, repetitive, and taxing.

I'm nothing, you are nothing, we are nothing with the pills I am empty 'til she fills, alive until she kills

Here, I view this as Crowley talking to Aziraphale. Pills can be a metaphor for heaven and the last line "I am empty 'til she fills, alive until she kills" can be Crowley mocking God's way of operating and controlling the angels as well as the angels dependence on god and their lack of free will.

In her vampire empire, I am Falling, yeah Falling, yeah

In this part, the vampire empire can be seen as a metaphor for heaven and 'her' can be seen as God. This passage, in my mind, is about Crowley's fall (obviously, considering the "Falling, yeah" bits)

I see you there, rejecting all your earthly power

Crowley realising that Aziraphale has to reject the human parts of himself in order to remain in heaven once he gets there and mourning the loss of something he loved about Aziraphale

Protecting and dissecting 'til you've emptied every hour

Crowley protecting his heart with the vices of alcohol and cigarettes constantly without hesitation and spending his days dissecting each hour of his time with Aziraphale, wondering if they were TRULY friends or Azi just stayed because of pity.

We jumped into the pond and then come under the shower You lay upon my pillow and you open like a flower

This first line can mean that Aziraphale and Crowley both jumped head first into trying to save Earth and the world (the pond) and them came under the wrath of both Heaven and Hell (the shower). But it could also represent how they jumped headfirst into each other when they began collaborating (pining).

The second line talks about how Aziraphale came into Crowley's view on Earth and Crowley watched him blossom, away from heaven and with him, for 6000 years.

I wanted to see you naked, I wanted to hear you scream Wanted to kiss your skin and your everything

This is about Crowley thinking about Aziraphale after he leaves for heaven but every thought is laced with regret and what he wanted (he still wants it) but could never have.

I wanted to be your woman, I wanted to be your man I wanted to be the one that you could understand

The first line is Crowley yelling at Aziraphale (genderfluid Crowley supremacy) and the second line is Aziraphale's answer. Crowley wants Aziraphale and Aziraphale wants Crowley to understand why he is going back up to heaven and believes he doesn't (he understands. more than Aziraphale).

[A REPEAT SECTION]

Well, I walked into your dagger for the last time It's like trying to start a fire with matches in the snow Where you can't seem to hold me, can't seem to let me go So I can't find surrender and I can't keep control

This passage talks about how Crowley feels about Aziraphale's betrayal. He declares that that was the last time he'll walk into the 'dagger' of Aziraphale's and he knows that its futile because he's grown to love him too much and wont be able to leave him forever.

He talks about how Aziraphale cant seem to truly be his but can't let him go, out of love or pity? Crowley doesn't know. Because of this, Crowley can't truly open himself up fully to Azi but he can't control himself around in in the way that when you truly love someone, you want to tell them everything and it divides him so much.

You turn me inside out, and then you want me outside in You spin me all around, and then you ask me not to spin

Crowley talking to Aziraphale (or yelling up at the sky and acting as if he's talking to God) about the unrealistic expectations held of both him and Aziraphale and how they both know they neither of them can live up to them.

You say you wanna be alone and you want children You wanna be with me and you wanna be with him

Crowley ranting to Aziraphale about the hypocrisy of his actions. Aziaphale wants to stay on Earth BUT he also wants to go up to heaven. Aziraphale wants to stay with Crowley but he ALSO wants to be with 'him' (the angels, Metatron, God, etc. etc.). He'd yell about how irrational it is, how he can't have both but he can have neither and it will end up that way if he isn't careful.

[A REPEAT SECTION]

Falling, yeah Falling, yeah Falling, yeah Falling, yeah

-THE END-

This part represents Crowley's spiral after Aziraphale left because:

a. his best friend is gone

b. his one true love is gone

and c. he thinks his best friend hates him

THIS TOOK ME, LIKE, 3 AND A HALF HOURS TO WRITE HOLY SHIT

#Cross' Ineffable Plan #these fucking ineffable dumbasses #THIS TOOK TOO LONG OML #crowly x aziraphale #azicrow #aziraphel #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #aziraphale #azirowley #anthony j crowley #crowley #good omens 2 #good omens #good omens rant #good omens season 3 #gomens #crowley and aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorce #good ineffable omens #ineffable idiots #ineffable spouses #genderfluid crowley #Vampire Empire - Big Thief #vampire empire #Big Thief #good omens analysis #song analysis #good omens angst

[auorafics]

Perv!SKZ- Part 2 (M)

Warning: Contains mature content. Readers discretion is advised. This is pure fiction and is in no way related to the actual idols. This is just a point of view

Pairings: OT8 x female!reader, perv!skz, perverted thoughts

Note: This is the beginning of 2 new series: The MTL series and the perv!skz series. Requests are open

Word Count: 1K

MTL: Perverts among Stray Kids

Jisung

Felix

Hyunjin

Chan

I.N Lee Know

Changbin

Seungmin

I feel like I.N is the most intrigued by your waist area. He keeps hugging you by your waist, keeping his hands on them and squeezing them slightly. Whenever you wear cropped tops, it would definitely be a feast for his eyes. But he will also be very grateful if the wind happens to lift your flowy crop top up, exposing your bra. He is not much of a photo guy, but how could he resist taking a pic of your boobs cutely tucked away in your bra? He also loves your sweet voice and keeps imagining how good you would sound moaning under him, as he shoves his big dick into your cute pink pussy. He also went as far as to record your voice when you were excited about food, to imagine you talking like that about his dick.

His most memorable incident of his life is when he stumbled across you, masturbating to something on your phone. Your door was poorly closed, so he could hear you very well. He also caught a glimpse of your swollen red core. He badly wanted to be there, touching you, but all he did was palm himself and hope this moment lasted forever.

Lee Know is the possessive perv. He would never let any man come near you. You were all his, without your knowledge. He always keeps an eye out for other guys near you, but half the time, he would catch himself staring at you plump ass. He loves it when you wear tight, skinny jeans around him, as it makes it easier for him to imagine every curve of your ass. So he sometimes insists on taking you out for shopping, always recommending outfits that enhance your body. But when you wear skirts, he goes crazier. His attention will always be on your thighs. He will definitely imagine himself fucking your thighs and coating you with his hot cum. Whenever he sees other men eyeing you, he’ll pull you by your waist and give you a hug out of nowhere, throwing you off track. He makes up a lame excuse and continues hugging you until the guy leaves, and he is satisfied 

Lee Know thinks he was the luckiest when he was at the changing room the other day. He accidentally dropped his phone in front of your stall and as he bent to pick it up, he could see your thong covered ass through the gap. And as you turned around, your naked thighs right at his face, he couldn’t control himself. He swore he could have came, if you hadn’t moved to the side to pick up your shirt. He hastily clicked some pics and shoved his phone away, before anybody passed by

Changbin is also a little possessive of you, and he shows that through his strength. He’s always around you, his hand over you with a tight grip. Sometimes, that grip could slip down to your ass, or squeeze your waist. Changbin believes that spending time with you is far superior than clicking pics of you for later. So he tries to spend most of his time with you. He especially loves the 2 hours of his day when you go to the gym together. It's the only time he can see you in a tight sports bra and leggings. He feels he’s in heaven when he sees your tits and thighs jiggling as you run on the treadmill. He is always helping you out with your stance, even when you are doing it right, so he can touch you. He also loves looking at your sweaty body after you are done. The sweat dampening your sports bra makes his dick go hard in record time. The cherry on top is when your nips are accidentally stimulated and perk up through the fabric

When he recently shifted to your gym, Changbin often got confused between the men’s and women’s changing rooms. Once such time, he happened to see you taking off your clothes for a shower. My man was stuck to the ground, unable to take his eyes off of your body. The way your tits jiggled as you took off your tight bra, your legging-clad ass and sweaty thighs, all made him rock hard instantly. His hand immediately reached for his phone. As he clicked photos of you, he did feel a pang of guilt, but nothing was going to stop him from now on

Though Seungmin is ranked as the least pervy, he is definitely a huge pervert. Like Jisung, he’s also a panty stealer, but it takes it up a level, as he sometimes takes some of your toys. He’s also a meany, so he likes to see you suffer when you can’t find your toys and are needy as fuck. But it also serves him another purpose, as he can smell and suck onto your toys, enjoying the remnants of your release on them. He is also a hoarder, so he will not return any of your clothes. Instead, they go into a secret box hidden in his closet. Whenever you tell him about your clothes going missing, he cracks stupid jokes like the washing machine eating them and so on. He also clicks a lot of pics of you. He prefers printing them on paper so he can soil them with his cum later

One time, you were at Seungmin’s place and wanted to use the shower. Unfortunately for you, and fortunately for him, the door knob lock was broken. That time, Seungmin took so many pictures of your butt and boobs that half of his phone storage was full because of your pics. He didn’t stop there, also stealing your panty, after offering to do your laundry

#kpop smut #skz #skz scenarios #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #lee know smut #smut #straykids #seo changbin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #han jisung smut #lee felix smut #kim seungmin smut #yang jeongin smut #skz bang chan #skz lee know #skz changbin #skz hyunjin #skz jisung #skz felix #skz kim seungmin #skz yang jeongin

[yandere-kokeshi]

Hi i hope you're doing well

Can i request A Hawks with a Darling That has a Quirk called "Angel wings" they can manifest 6 wings(they are also Bigger than his)

Warnings: reader has Stockholm Syndrome, talks about heights; if you have a fear of heights, don’t read; tracking device, and bird traits (slightly nsfw towards the end, tried to keep it as sfw). 

Authors note: Of course!! This was so incredibly fun to write; sorry if it’s short, i wrote this real quick while eating dinner. Feel free to request again, ☺️

He thinks it’s so cool!! He's extremely happy that someone relates to him about the struggles with wings: how annoying small rooms are, how people are touchy with your wings, and the chilly air brushing through your hair while you fly. 

Now, he only has two wings, but you? His most angelic and squishable darling, who has six of them? You are hardcore. He’ll be asking a lot of questions, even if he knows the answer: “Do you... lay eggs?” -- “How many feathers do you shed per month?” -- “How much do they weigh? Wait! Can you carry me with them?”

He loves to help you groom them, clipping off the damages/non-usable ones and makes sure to be as gentle as he can. Keigo will also pry in the showers with you, wanting to wash your wings as they are huge; I mean, you can’t get all of the dirt and dust off with one quick shower, why not have two more hands who can help you better? 

When you preen, he will there, helping you sort them out. Your feathers uneven and uncomfortable? He’ll gladly rearrange them to a perfect order, making sure to press light kisses on the wings when he’s done. Having a bad back day? Don’t worry! You sweet winged-husband has back and wing lotion ready when he gets home, ordering your favorite take-out. You have scratches in the middle of your wings and can’t reach it? He’s there to help you, itching it while blowing on your wings to see them flap. 

This man uses the nicknames ‘angel’, sparrow, birdy, darling, and precious; if he’s in a teasing mood, he’ll call you his chicken nugget. 

Keigo loves to touch your pretty wings, brushing his calloused fingers through the silky white feathers. Not only will he ask to lay on them, but have the ability to smoother his face in them. 

Once he knows it’s ‘safe for you’ to leave the shared home of yours, both of you will be going on flying-trips and hang out on high buildings. Though, don’t roam too far, Hawks implanted a chip into your wings and if he sees you fly past the ‘barrier’ he set for you? He’s gonna be a bit upset.

When your feathers fall, which is normal, he will collect them and put them in a safe-keeping box in the closet near your bed; after a while, he will start to leave his feathers around on purpose, hoping you’ll take them and do the same thing.

Cuddling is quite a mess, but it works in the end. Hawks absolutely loves to be held, especially after a hard day of working; the moment your wings wrap around his, blocking out anything outside of view and the small talks you two do, it makes him feel all butterflies inside. Though, don’t be surprised to wake up in the morning, him clinging onto you like a koala... naked. 

The slight bird traits you both share make his heart speed a bit. Whenever you flap your wings or coo when you’re excited, how your feathers slightly sharpen when your annoyed, or when you stare at something a bit too long, examining the object whilst cocking your head. 

Wing and face-care routines! You bet that he’ll be massaging special oils onto your wings, digging gently into the muscles as he tickles your cheek with his own feathers. 

If you do have a rut, he’ll be taking good care of you; watching how your behavior changes, your scent, and stress level highs up. He’ll request a total month off, saying it’s a ‘family emergency’.  

—

Thank you so much for requesting!!

Here's my masterlist for more content. Stay well!

#male yandere #yandere blog #kokeshi!! #yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere anime #yandere keigo x reader #yandere keigo takami #yandere keigo #yandere hawks x reader #yandere hawks #yandere hawks x gn reader #yandere bnha x gn reader #yandere bnha x winged reader #yandere bnha x y/n #yandere bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha x gn reader #yandere mha x reader #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere x gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x curvy reader #yandere headcanons #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere pro hero #yandere hero

[foursaints]

Okay so I've been having thought and questions banging around my mind ever since this ask: https://foursaints.tumblr.com/post/738638080179896320/ok-wait-building-on-my-last-ask-bartys-mannerisms#notes

and i was wondering if you have any thoughts on him when it comes to showering? to like actually having to interact with his body in a really intimate way?? im just so curious to know if youve reflected on this and what you have in mind when it comes down to it. also does he.....touch himself?

firstly there is always the bone motif barty’s bodily autonomy post. but grim made a post here that touches on it a little that i really enjoy.

the way i try to relate to barty is like. in hp we know the soul/"self" is both 1) something that exists 2) is separate from the body. unlike everybody else (as a result of imperius for years, azkaban, polyjuice, the dementor's kiss) barty doesn't really... have a concrete self? if he does its this sorry stifled underdeveloped thing. i mean this narratively speaking not how he personally feels about it. but if everyone else has a soul INSIDE a body, barty is just the body. he IS whatever shape his container is taking (consider imperius, where your inner world=hearing the commands your body is following)(consider how indistinguishable he was from moody. thats probably natural to him)

but we also know that he's clever and manipulative and arrogant and all that despite. so i think the way he sees his body is deeply fucked up (i mean, its Literally a prison) but its also literally all he has. he cant not coexist with it or he has nothing lol... i think he subconsciously views his body mostly as a Tool by which to achieve Ends that he is always Hyper Aware of like he knows exactly what is where and what its doing down to an insane level.

to answer the questions i think he goes through private intimate moments (showering, masturbation) in a manner thats pretty matter-of-fact but otherwise seems outwardly ""normal""? mechanical? its not his Body itself but the conditions under which his body has been used that are traumatizing. he’s still deeply weird & distant about it just not in a way he’s conscious of. he completely lacks normal body insecurities though (“am i ugly” type stuff) like thats just not in the cards for him bc of the Tool thing.

and yet he is still a human being despite!! and i really believe that a little bit under all of that baggage whenever he gets to be alone with himself in those ways its a little heart breaking. peaceful but also terrible? tender but distant? probably his only body-related happy memory is his mother washing him as a child or something. it reminds him of that.

modern au barty is a totally different beast with this stuff though. that guy jerks off like 6 times a day

#a #LIKE MODERN BARTY. he has that kind of natural inborn james-like unbothered quality of being born a conventionally attractive tall cis man #and who is decently good at sports without trying too hard. hes like off manspreading somewhere and drinking a modelo. god bless him. #LONG POST #t #barty meta tag #sorry if this makes absolutely zero sense it’s 3am for me

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I've noticed that PJMs REALLY hate jikook and jkkrs, I've literally even seen some of them parrot taekook narratives and rhetoric about Jungkook not liking Jimin and such (which is crazy to me, why would they ever believe anything tkkrs of all people have to say about something related to JM!). Even though JJK1 was just announced, I've seen a whole portion of them raging about jkkrs suddenly today. They're also saying most of them are JK biased, but I'm pretty confident the majority of jkkrs are JM biased actually, and I thought that was well known. Do you think there's a specific reason it's like this? I feel like a lot of KTHs and JJKs are tkkrs, or at least have gotten along with them. But it's definitely not the same with PJMs and jkkrs.

***

Hi Anon,

Just as a general rule, I'm incapable of taking solo stans of any member seriously. There are some groups in k-pop where it makes sense to be a solo stan. But for a group like BTS, to be a solo stan is an automatic failed IQ and EQ test, in my opinion. And PJMs are no exception.

So, I kinda don't want to waste any time on this ask given the subject is PJMs / solo stans, but you sent this ask a while ago and I'm in a mood... I'll take a gander at it.

Why do PJMs hate Jungkook, jikook, and jokers?

The self-inserts who recognize that Jungkook is a real and constant presence in Jimin's life, and likely will always be. Jungkook is a person who many times occupies the space many imagine a spouse or significant other would take with Jimin. A lot of people in the fandom see this, including PJMs, and for the solo stans who love Jimin a little too much, Jungkook's very existence is a thorn in their side.

The psychos with zero sense of boundaries who have deluded themselves into thinking they get a say in determining what is best for Jimin. Some PJMs don't think Jungkook is a good friend to Jimin, much less a good spouse/partner. They find him inadequate of being paired with their god, Jimin, by their personal arbitrary standards. JK doesn't shower Jimin with enough attention, affection, deference, reverence, etc, by their own standards. They hold every slight or minor disagreement jikook have ever had, against Jungkook in perpetuity, because how dare he act like a teenage boy talking back to Jimin (or whatever) when he should be glad the mighty Jimin breathed in his direction?

The overprotective mother hens who feel powerless to hold Jimin antis responsible in their stan environments, so they transfer the blame to Jungkook. Some JJKs suffer from the above two mental ailments plaguing PJMs, and are objectively disgusting towards Jimin. Of course none of that is Jungkook's fault, but some PJMs choose to blame him for their behaviour anyway. This faction of solo stans (and shippers) who act like this are so pathetic, I won't waste any more time getting into it.

Jikookers get heat from PJMs because they celebrate a relationship that most PJMs view through the lens of the above three points. Jokers are automatically bad for wanting Jimin in a relationship that is obviously bad (see above), and what's worse is jokers don't really support Jimin enough (based on the standards set by solo stans...).

Some shippers (and jikookers) are vile fetishizers, and are legitimately hated by anyone with half a working brain, at least, and so like a broken clock that's right twice a day, PJMs sometimes sniff out the jikookers who honestly belong in a jail cell. Here, I say the hate is justified. But again, that's more the exception to the rule.

In terms of bias splits with jikookers, what I've observed is most are double biased with Jimin and Jungkook. Taekookers however swing more fully to being majority Tae-biased, and the fall out from the Taennie reveal more or less confirms that for me. The JJKs who get along with KTHs are able to do that better than with PJMs, because I doubt any of them see Taehyung as real competition to Jungkook. To be blunt. Jimin has always pulled in significant attention for his unusual tone and feather-light vocals, his dancing ability is peerless, and his personality endears him to everyone who comes across BTS. Jimin reigned supreme in Korea and internationally in terms of popularity since debut, and in the last 5 years, has shared this more with Jungkook, and to a lesser degree with Taehyung. With Tae, it's only since 2017 I saw an uptick in his popularity within the fandom and outside it, and his Chinese fanbase since 2018 has been a big reason for this, actively working to match his status with Jimin and Jungkook. But even then, at least in Korea, Jungkook's only real competition in BTS is Jimin, and so his solo stans have a harder time getting along with PJMs, than with KTHs. This isn't something I usually pay attention to because I'm not nearly as sensitive to it as solo stans are, but I've got eyes and can see.

Anyway...

With a group like BTS, there are certain people who are guaranteed to always be angry and/or miserable for as long as the group is active - and yes BTS as a group is still active in Chapter 2. These types of people include homophobes; the mantis who believe they know how to manage BTS better than BigHit; people who don't like ARMY or don't like BTS mentioning ARMY; and solo stans of every variety; among others. Anyone with any of these inclinations is bound to either stop following BTS and k-pop completely, or will end up as a full blown anti who spirals further into degeneracy.

I'd ignore them if I were you, though in Chapter 2 I can understand why this could be difficult to do.

#Standardized testing for anything has its flaws and isn't always exhaustive but still... yeah solos are just fundamentally kinda dumb #they are useful for simple rote tasks like streaming and buying #but anything that requires complex thought with delayed and ordered consequences is beyond their thinking capacity #It's not a diss #Just what I've observed over the years #jikook #pjms #jimin #jungkook #taehyung #bts shippers #fandom behaviour #bts #bangtan #solo stans #park jimin #jeon jungkook

[avelera]

I've been thinking about "Giving Sanctuary" and by extension how I view Dream and Hob as fathers to adult children who have died, and kind of wanted to articulate how I view them in that light, because there's a very specific kind of fatherhood I envision for both of them and it's not the same.

Think of this as sort of a "Behind the Scenes" DVD commentary for "Giving Sanctuary" :)

Dream as a father - so with Dream, I see his marriage to Calliope and his fathering of Orpheus as something he did while he was young.

Now, canonically speaking, Dream is billions of years old and 3,000 years ago is hardly younger within that span if we take that at face value. But if we don't, and we take it more that maybe Dream's maturity is more closely tied to humanity's sophistication, as the lord of their dreams, then bear with me for a second and imagine that in terms of maturity, Dream is roughly in his early 20s when he marries Calliope. (This is also slightly inspired by Tom Sturridge having become a father in his early 20s and my sense he brought some of that to his performance of Dream.)

There's a very specific energy that comes with Dream and Calliope getting married out of a certain "young love" that's technically adult but maybe not fully grown or wise yet. The kind of young love that could absolutely be destroyed by losing a child together. Years later, when Dream rescues Calliope, they feel like a couple now in their 30s who still feel fondness for one another but have understandably remained apart ever since. They're different people now, people who were fundamentally changed by the loss, and the people they are now don't necessarily have an interest in getting back together, even if they can *remember* their old happiness together.

Likewise, to me, Dream feels like someone who lost a child when he was young, perhaps so young that most people of his age (speaking in human terms) have never even had a child much less lost one. He has no peers to share the grief with. Certainly none of the other Endless have families and those that have children, like Desire, don't seem to view them parentally or affectionately, they're just pawns.

So even within his own family, Dream is unique in having had and lost a child that he cared about. He doesn't have anyone to really relate to about it and I personally headcanon that the Dream we know, the dour figure that is weary of life, whom Death is trying desperately to rekindle before he self-destructs from his own depression, came into being with the loss of Orpheus. As an adult, Dream has been shaped by a loss that happened in his early adulthood. It has given him maturity but not necessarily wisdom, rather it has left him bitter, distant, and brittle because he never properly healed from that loss or came to terms with it.

Hob as a father - in contrast, Hob feels like someone who became a father relatively late in life, and after a great deal of planning. He waited until he was well-established, rich, with a knighthood, and able to shower all his life's accumulated achievements on a child that was very carefully planned.

Then, despite doing everything right, he lost that child anyway. His son was an early adult, Hob was at the time of Robyn's death, mentally, I'd argue, a middle-aged man, and it shattered him. He "didn't go out much after that" and it sounds like, if you do the math, he didn't go out much for roughly 20 years. There is a very specific grief one hears about with parents who lose adult children, especially at an age where they don't expect to have any other children, a lifetime spent together, putting your hopes in them. Hob clearly loved Robyn, who was his only son with his by then deceased wife, leaving Hob utterly alone after having such high hopes. Parents you hear about who went through this are destroyed and never really recover emotionally. I could go into some specific examples but first of all, they're all just gut-wrenching, and second I don't want to make light of those losses, but suffice to say those accounts are informing how I write Hob.

Hob and Dream relating to one another as fathers of deceased, adult sons - Now going back into the fic a bit, there is that energy of two men of roughly the same mental (if not literal) age, one of who lost a child as a young man, one almost too young to have a family at that point (again, according to my perception, not the literal numbers) and how he relates to Hob who more recently lost an adult son while more mature himself, having waited a long time to have one.

I think on some level, Hob pities Dream all the more for perceiving that this loss hit Dream while he was almost too young to have fully enjoyed a life himself. Certainly this loss has poisoned Dream for a much longer period than Hob has been poisoned by his own. The bitterness is so entrenched in Dream by now that he almost wishes he *could* erase the memory of his family, because he's lost so much of himself to mourning them, whereas Hob still would not trade their memory because being more mature when he lost them gave him a certain relative resilience and wisdom about the world, he can cherish the memory and mourn them without wishing the pain would just go away.

Hob is also, by extension, in a slightly better place to advise Dream through his grief, even though he's technically younger, because unlike Dream, Hob always knew he'd lose them but Dream very reasonably approached Calliope and having a child with Calliope from the belief that he would never lose them both (it's arguable if he thought Orpheus would be a god or demi-god and thus immortal too but let's say for the sake of argument that he did expect Orpheus to be immortal too). He was even more blindsided by the loss that never should have happened, whereas Hob was blindsided by a loss that happened sooner than he expected.

Dream feels his mistake towards Hob was not warning Hob in advance that to have a wife and child would mean losing them, given the gift of immortality was limited. He has no advice for Hob because the entire exercise around giving Hob immortality was Dream proving the point that no one could suffer through what he has gone through, or survive eternity, without wanting to die. He is, especially within the fic, looking for confirmation of his own worldview that life is unbearable through putting Hob through the same experience. He can try to help Hob by assisting him materially and being there for him as a friend, but Dream is also learning how to do that, how to be an adult, mature partner, as he does so.

Whereas for Hob, looking out for someone else is something he has done as a mature man. He misses being a husband and father. Having Dream to look out for isn't something he has to learn how to do, it's something he has always felt more natural doing and he's restored to a stronger sense of self by having the chance to do so again.

Anyway, that's it, just a little behind the scenes DVD extra for Giving Sanctuary :)

#1689 fic #giving sanctuary #sandman meta

[saeyoungs-angel]

hello! i saw your requests were open, so i was wondering if i could request a drabble where bakugou comforts reader who doesn’t feel like shes feminine enough? and whenever she sees him with a really pretty girl she gets upset thinking he wouldn’t look her way cause she doesn’t act or dress like the rest of the girls in 1-a but she tries (have a nice day!!)

⨳​ “i like you the way you are.” — mha

starring. bakugou & you

plot. after attempting to dress more feminine, bakugou states exactly how he feels about it—and you.

genre. comfort, fluff

cw. swearing, female reader implied, reader likes baggy clothes

notes. woo got carried away lol, i relate to this alot so i wanted to give it my best. i hope you like it and thank u sm for the request! im sorry it took so long, writers block is a bitch:( i hope u have a nice day as well!! <3

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3

𓆩☆𓆪

yesterday, you had departed from your classroom in a dismal mood, to say the least. after witnessing a few female classmates swarm bakugou to chat about his astounding quirk, you dawned on the fact that he seemed nicer to them than you—insults were still thrown around, yet they weren’t as heavy as the ones he showered you with.

you had absolutely zero ill-will towards them, the animosity was actually directed at yourself. was he nicer because they were prettier, or because they wore showy dresses and skirts?

here you were, dressed in baggy denim jeans and a hoodie, was that the problem? you never took part in the salon trips or trying on dresses like the other girls, was that what he wanted?

before this, you had come to the conclusion that katsuki bakugou, your bestfriend, never once had an interest in dating and such. recent events have swayed your view, though—so here you are now, standing idly in front of your mirror adjusting your skirt.

you only own one, and it was a gift. while it fits you nicely and the color compliments your eyes, you feel uncomfortable and stiff. you smooth it out a bit more, rolling your shoulders to try and ease the tension in them.

no use, you still have this awkward feeling. you don’t feel like you, you feel like you’re trying to be someone else. that said, you shake it off to the best of your abilities, finishing up your usual routine—just this time, with a skirt.

as discomfiting as it is to don yourself in this outfit, you know you have to attempt it. you can’t jump to conclusions just yet, if you try and are unsuccessful, then you can be dejected about it. a knock at your dorm drags you from your unquieting head, the aggression gives away the culprit easily.

“fuck is takin’ you so long? we’re gonna be late, dumbass!” bakugou’s voice rings in your ears, and anxious, uninvited feelings accompany it.

you dash around your room, snatching your school stuff in a hurry. “it’s fine! just head there without me, katsuki.”

some grumbles flow from your door, then it slams ajar. you swing around, pivoting on your heel at the intrusion.

“what the hell are you doing! you’re gonna be late, just go—and stop breaking into my room!”

the semi-shout does the opposite of deterring him, and he shoves the door closed behind him as he crosses his arms in agitation. he even taps his foot against the wooden floors, you having to stifle a laugh at his demeanor.

“maybe you should lock your door, stupid.—” his head falls to face the ground, “—y’know i’m not gonna walk without you, hurry the fuck up.”

you huff and as his head rises back up, he notices.

“the hell are you wearin’?”

your eyes fly to the wall behind him, arms coming to cover yourself instinctively as an unpleasant feeling crawls up your spine. had you messed up?

“i’m—uh, it’s just a skirt. i just figured that, um, i should.. try something new.” your uneasiness flows through your voice, and bakugou definitely takes notice.

“is it bad..?”

he scoffs, closing the proximity between you both by just a bit.

“do you think it’s bad?”

you open your mouth to respond, but nothing falls out. of course you think it’s bad, but you want to know if he does too.

“uh, i mean, i’m uncomfortable. i’d rather be in my normal clothes but i don’t really.. look good in those, i guess.” the words come out unconfident, much to your dismay.

you begin to play with your fingers, hoping he’ll just let is slide and accompany you to class like always.

“hey, stupid. take it off.”

your eyes blow wide, the hell did he just say?

“what?”

“i’ll turn around, just put on somethin’ you actually feel fuckin’ comfortable in.” before you can retort, he spins around.

sighing, you settle for the assumption that he simply doesn’t see you like that. it must’ve been weird for him to see you in girly clothes, maybe he thinks of you as one of the guys or something.

slipping out of the coarse textured skirt, you tweak your new agreeable outfit to your liking. a cozy long-sleeved shirt and loose fitting jeans, the normal. before you can finish tidying yourself up, bakugou snaps the silence in half.

“why’d you decide to go and try to change into that shit, anyways? you told me you’d start dressin’ like that when hell freezes over.”

you pause, thinking of the correct way to word it without seeming odd.

“you’re nicer to the girls who dress like that.”

the room falls deadly silent once again, and for a split second, you feel sick to your stomach.

“are you done changin’?”

“yeah.”

bakugou swiftly turns to face you, stomping over until he’s directly in front of your pretty face.

“you tried to wear that shit for me?”

you nod, feeling a bit mentally diminutive compared to his intimidating frame.

“don’t. i like you the way you are and i’d rather you be comfortable, dumbass.” he settles his rough palms above your shoulders.

“then why are you meaner to me..?” this is the last question you need an answer to, and the shock hasn’t fully set in yet so you decide to ask it now.

he growls, shaking you back and forth.

“fuck, this is really embarrassin’, so you better not go makin’ fun of me and shit.—” he halts his movements, letting his hands fall to his sides.

he covers the bottom of his face with one palm, the other resting soundly in place at his side.

“—have you, have you ever heard that if you bully someone more—goddammit! i like you, alright? there, i fuckin’ said it.”

buffering, you’re speechless. that’s why he was so rude to you? why didn’t he just say so, it would’ve saved you a lot of trouble!

“really? you like me like this?” you gesture to your boyish looking clothes, arching a brow in questioning.

he nods silently, knowing his words would most likely flow out harsher than he means them to.

��wow, i—i did that because i like you! what a coincidence, right?”

“yeah, whatever. we’re already super fuckin’ late, so if you’re comfortable then let’s go.” he takes your hand in his, uncharacteristically gentle, and stomps out of your dorm.

you flush heavily, eyeing your connected hands as a smile breaks out on your face. bakugou abruptly stops in his tracks.

“the only reason i’d have for hatin’ what you wear,—” his unoccupied hand reaches towards both of yours, tugging up the sleeve that made its way in between them. “—is that these shitty sleeves keep me from feelin’ your hand in mine.”

you laugh a bit, face blazing as you both begin your walk to class once again. before you can say anything to doubt yourself though, he redirects your thoughts.

“the upside is that you look fuckin’ adorable in it, so i probably shouldn’t be complainin’.”

𓆩☆𓆪

feedback is extremely meaningful!

#mha x y/n #mha x you #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha comfort #bnha comfort #mha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #mha bakugou #katsuki comfort #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagines #bakugou fluff #bakugou comfort #katsuki fluff #saeyoungs-angel

[hyperlexichypatia]

hey! ive been observing this account for a while as a person who is relatively new to anti-pysch, madpunk, and youth rights related stuff. and i wanted to ask something related to bodily autonomy. would someone refusing or downright saying they hate showering count as ones right to their own bodily autonomy? i see hygiene commonly weaponized against those who are neurodivergent or have mental illnesses and physical disabilities, that and i think hygiene has moved so far from protecting ourselves from certain viruses and diseases to "if you dont follow this specific skincare routine, buy these specific products, and take a shower in a very specific way (or use an alternative method/way that doesnt involve a shower in the first place) you're gross and should be shunned from society". i feel like our quickness to judge others who dont follow these things are may appear like they dont is connected to somethings related to consumerism and classism but i wouldnt know how to explain it as im still new to all this.

Needing help with hygiene is also really stigmatized, and people are denied access to it. Lots of people who don't have clean bodies and clothes are denied access to those things -- maybe they're unhoused and don't have a working bathroom, maybe they're disabled and can't get into the shower without assistance, which they don't have -- and of course anything associated with poor and disabled people is intensely stigmatized. So yeah, stigma on not having the right hygiene is absolutely classist and ableist. Even the word "hygiene" is often used to mean eugenics. We equate "clean" with "abled" and "dirty" with "disabled." There are even studies (I'm not sure how reliable they are because I haven't done sufficient research on them) suggesting that people adopt more conservative/judgmental attitudes when there's a bottle of hand sanitizer in view.

I think what really reveals the bad faith of the whole thing is that this kind of stigma is purely about social class and not actually about cleanliness from germs. The clearest example might be how in the 1840s, Dr. Ignaz Semmelweis proposed the completely radical idea that maybe doctors should wash their hands before treating patients, and being widely denounced for suggesting that doctors could be the problem or could be dirty. The second clearest example might be the American political response to the COVID-19 pandemic -- people who had spent decades opposing the rights of poor people, unhoused people, immigrants, disabled people, people of color, queer people, etc. on the basis off "They're dirty/ they smell bad/ they're gross" suddenly pivoted to "How dare you ask me to avoid touching you or your food, wear a mask, or wash my hands, this is personally insulting to me."

Hygiene requirements are certainly necessary in certain contexts -- yes, you should have to wash your hands and wear a hairnet when preparing food, you should have to wash your hands and wear a mask before performing surgery -- but these should be things the employer provides and makes accessible.

#ableism #classism #hygiene

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Leon with a wheelchair-user! S/O headcanons!

on mobile again (on the bus this time so slay) so apologies if formatting is weird!

thanks so much to the person who requested this! you were a great help ! and apologies for the wait omg

features gn! reader and leon being a good bf!

disclaimer: i am not a wheelchair user nor have any mobility-related issues (i am disabled though, one of those cheeky visually impaired girlies 🦯) so as always, if i have made a mistake, please don't hesitate to reach out and i'll get it sorted!

One thing about Leon

Is that he's strong

So fit

And so willing to give a hand

So if you ever need to take break from rolling your wheels yourself

He's so ready and willing to push you about

In fact, whenever you're out together, he always offers to push your wheelchair right away

It's very sweet, how caring he is, but also how respectful he is when you decline

He'll carry you too

No problem at all

Bridal-style, (te)piggyback, over his shoulder firefighter-style

Whatever you prefer!

It comes in handy when you're in a place that's not very accessible

Or, you just want your big strong man to lift you up like you’re nothing

If you ever need him to help you stand, you know he's got you

You feel so secure and safe in his arms!

This also goes if you ever need support when walking

Gets his car refitted to make it more accessible for you

now you have no excuse, you have to ride in the carizard

Renovates his place too

He plans to wake up next to you for the rest of his life, it's the least he can do

Being the champion’s S/O has a ton of perks

You get invited to exclusive events, get TONS of free stuff, be the most envied person in the region

You find people are more likely to go and above and betond for you

Not because you require accomodations though don’t be silly

But because your boyfriend is the unbeatable champuon

It’s not the best reason for your needs being met

You’ll take what Ws you can get honestly

Lee, by the nature of his career

And really, by his kind and generous personality

Does a lot of charity work

Even working with wheelchair-user related charities before you two ever met

But being with you, seeing your day-to-day. witnessing how inaccessible the world can be

In ways he would have never considered

Really upped his contribution to these charities

He's tryna give you the best life he can

Trying to provide that for others in your situation seems only the right thing to do, especially considering his position

Has a wheelchair patch on his cape to show support during his matches

Luckily Wyndon Stadium is state-of-art

In terms of everything - accessibility included!

It is the crown jewel of Galar after all

Ramps, lifts, automatic doors. multiple accessible bathrooms, specialized viewing areas for wheelchair users

Accessible showers too ;)

Even the VIP area is wheelchair-friendly!

Though you tend to watch from his locker room instead

So you can give your champ a big ol'smooch after his match

Occasionally idotic interviewers praise him for how “brave” and “inspiring” he is for openly dating a disabled peron

Of course, he’s quick to shut that kind of ignorant, condescending shit down

He won’t let anyone talk about you that way

The media, his fans, even people you know

It really grinds his gears – even more since he knows he can’t get angry in public

Naturally, he’s  your biggest cheerleader

He is always there to encourage you 

To give you that support when you're struggling with something

He's careful not to push too far though

After all, it's your body, your limits 

You know yourself and what you can do in that moment more than he ever can

But still, you value his encouragement and belief in you

Even if it's just for a confidence boost!

Whatever you do

Don't let him even think about decorating your wheelchair

You've seen how he dresses and his car - there's no way it can go well

#champion leon x reader #champion leon #champion leon headcanons #leon pokemon #leon pokemon x reader #leon pokemon headcanons #trainer leon x reader #trainer leon headcanons #trainer leon #leon x reader #leon headcanons #fluff #request

[mysterymachinefiends]

I have read reviews and now we are one day from the drop of the new series and aside from the Pilot, I won’t watch it. Velma 2023 as a concept of- Prequel, No Scooby-Doo, and changing Race of a Character- is all fine and dandy. We, Scooby Doo Fans, do that in our art all the time. I love seeing everyone’s ideas on differences in the gang like Velma being Black or Daphne being East Asian or any combo I’ve ever seen. There is really true creative talent in this fandom for respecting cultures but applying them to Scooby Doo Characters which is a GIANT thing Velma is going to miss. Even the vaguest reviews make it out to sound like a churn-and-burn CW affair where it’s horny teens and spooky monsters. That method has worked in the past, but as viewing audiences sit with Riverdale and Euphoria, I think it has been played out. The series also misses key fundamental character specifics like Fred isn’t Rich, Shaggy got Scooby young, Velma is a giant nerd but not overly concerned by appearances (depending on versions, I’m citing the originals), Daphne is rich but not an idiot just generally clumsy, and the other host of characters being their parents change. The last thing about their parents changing is fine, there is fluidity with that.

Velma also seems to miss a thing that most shows nowadays are as well: Decent Character Dialogue. I’m not sure what has happened to writing rooms, but even the better movies have stilted and wilted character interactions. I find it hard to see past the “Woke Show” complaint because even though I’m for more open ideas, it comes across as a parody of Woke Shows a MAGA person would make. Example:

“Have you ever noticed how pilot episodes of TV shows always have more gratuitous sex and nudity than the rest of the series?” -Daphne, Velma HBO-Max (2023) she is then reported to have a naked shower scene fighting another girl.

“Man, if I even think about getting into 420, 420 culture or especially 420-related humor, kill me.” -Shaggy, Velma HBO-Max (2023)

These are not good examples of Meta-Humor or self-awareness. They seem like something out of a high school creative writing course at the beginning of the year. Which is a harsh take, but if you are going to make a character self aware, at least make it funny. It’s like the head writer, a former SNL writing room writer, looked at 3 TikToks made by teens and decided that’s how they all sound. Then tried to be an EdgeLord about it. Which, for a show trying to introduce different races to beloved characters and be smart about it, IS AN AWFUL WAY TO CHANGE MINDS. It is more likely to have awful reviews claiming race when actually it’s poor poor writing.

Velma 2023 was supposed to be a smart way to bring Scooby Doo to adults. Which could be done correctly and there have been successful and witty adult cartoons without the typical plagues of Over-Sexualizing, Too Much Gore, and Cringey Self-Awareness. Take for example, Bob’s Burgers. It’s beloved by all and while the humor sometimes gears towards adults, it’s not overly raunchy. Velma feels like it belongs more in 2005/2006 Comedy Central attempts than on a paid TV Channel. I hope that in the future, creators might be actual true fans or at least have a writing room that adores the basics. The Mystery Gang can be for adults, it just hasn’t had the love yet to transition.

#scooby doo #mod: taylor #velma 2023 #this is an opinion guys

[strangerquinns]

'86 Baby!: Chapter Seven

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

A Stranger Things Season 4 Rewrite: It’s Senior Year for Hawkins High School Class of '86. But while most are dealing with the pressure of finales, the threat of the Upside Down looms over you and your friends. But an old friend is soon pulled into the darkness, and all you hope to do is save him while pushing away old feelings.

story warning: dark themes like; death, blood, violence, descriptions of dead bodies + other Stranger Things related warnings. themes: fluff w/ angst + smut

word count: 4.2k+ // ’86 Baby! masterlist

Chapter Seven: Little Black Dress

You started to wake up as the bird began to sing outside the bedroom window. You shifted slightly and turned around to bury your face into Eddie's chest. The last thing you wanted to do was remove yourself from the safe warmth of Eddie's arms but knew you had to.

Chrissy's funeral.

That was enough to wake you up with the feeling of ice running through your veins. You sat up and slowly moved out of the bed to not wake Eddie. You winced slightly due to the ache between your legs before jumping into the shower again. Once you were washed and back into your clothes that were still warm from the dryer, you headed back into the bedroom.

Eddie was sprawled across the rumbled sheets, the blanket lying just below his belly button. It brought a small smile to your face as you walked closer to him, seeing the scratches and love bites you'd left on him. You sat back down on the empty side of the bed and leaned against him slightly. You pushed away his curls before bending down and kissing his lips softly.

Eddie groaned and blinked his eyes a few times before waking. His brown eyes opened and a lazy smile spread across his face the moment he saw you. Eddie reached up and lightly traced your jaw before pulling you back into another kiss.

"This is a way I can get used to waking up." Eddie sleepily said.

"I was thinking the same when I saw you lying here, looking very tempting." You nervously giggled and could feel your face turning hot.

"What time is it?" Eddie asked, noticing that you were dressed in your clothes.

"Early. About 8am, I think the clock said in the kitchen." You frowned and furrowed your brows. "I-I have to head back to go to Chrissy's funeral. My mom's right...I have to say goodbye."

"I understand," Eddie spoke, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand.

"But I'm coming back right after, ok?"

Eddie knew that you needed to go and be there for Chrissy, for the last time. He just hated that he wasn't able to be there for you. Hold you while you cried and hold your hand tightly. He wouldn't care that everyone would be questioning them being together. But he knew with the circumstances going on, it was best that he stayed where he was. Eddie's thumb rubbed across the back of your hand as the both of you sat in silence.

"I'll be back...I don't know how long it's going to go on for. But I'll try and get some more food? Check-in with the group, maybe sneak and get you some more clothes or something." You shrugged

"Baby, don't stress yourself out with doing that. Just...take all the time you need to be able to grieve and say goodbye and be with your family. I'll be fine here. The others can get me whatever else I need."

You smiled "And we're gonna talk about last night when I get back."

"You mean the best night of my life?" Eddie's brows shot up with a sly smirk. "That's what we're gonna talk about?"

You rolled your eyes before moving up on your knees to hover over him, bending down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. Eddie hummed lightly as your lips slowly moved against each other. When you pulled back, you pecked them a couple of times, before getting up.

"I'll see you later,"

Eddie nodded his head and kept his eyes locked on you till you were completely out of his view.

You went home and slipped into the black dress you kept in the back of your closet for occasions like this. You stepped in front of the mirror and smoothed out the front and fixed the cap sleeves so they were a little straighter. But when looking in the mirror something else caught your eyes. They widened slightly at the small bruises decorating the column of your neck.

"God damn it, Munson." You rolled your eyes before sitting in front of your vanity and grabbing your make-up, working to cover up the hickies on your skin. The last thing you needed was your family or anyone else questioning you.

You didn't bother doing the rest of your make-up knowing that you were just going to cry it off. That familiar burn of tears was already lingering in your eyes, and you knew it wasn't going to take much to trigger them.

"You ready, sweetie?" Your mother asked as she stepped into your bedroom, a sad smile on her lips. You looked up at her and nodded your head, before grabbing your purse from your bed and slipping on your heels.

The drive was nearly silent with the radio playing soft music through the speakers, neither you nor your parents saying a word as they drove to St. Mary's. After arriving you walked up the steps and filed into the church along with what seemed to be the rest of Hawkins. At the church doors both Chrissy's parents stood. Her father trying to stay stoic and strong, but you could see he was fighting back his tears, emotion clear on his face. But the moment you stepped up and saw Mrs. Cunningham's face, the tears started again. The little bit of strength you had released.

"I'm sorry for your loss," You spoke with your voice cracking slightly, Mrs. Cunningham stepping forward and wrapping her arms around your shoulders.

"Thank you, sweetie." She pulled back and gently caressed your cheek before you moved on and walked into the church.

You sat toward the front of the church, right behind Jason and the rest of the Hawkin's basketball team. You saw a few of your squad members and quickly sat with them. Patricia wrapped her arm around you as the two of you leaned on one another for support, fingers laced together tightly. The moment you looked to the front and saw the casket along with the photo of her smiling face, everything felt real. It was final.

You felt someone's eyes on you and looked over to see Jason looking over the back of his pew at you. His face was sullen with tear streaks running down his cheeks. He gave you small smile with a nod, and you returned it. You may of hated Jason and thought he was wrong for Chrissy, but deep down a part of you think he actually loved her.

As the ceremony started, your mother reached through her purse and handed you a small packet of tissues. You took them quickly and wiped away the tears on your cheeks, knowing already that today was going to be a long day.

"We are gathered here under unfortunate circumstances, to celebrate the life of Christina Cunningham. A beloved daughter and beloved friends. A shining light that was taken from Hawkins, and will not be truly forgotten." The pastor started.

If anyone asked what truly went on during the funeral, you wouldn't be able to report anything back. All you did was stare forward at her casket knowing that your best friend was inside. Twisted and nearly torn apart by whatever was plaguing your town once again from the Upside Down. This Vecna, the more you thought about it the angrier you got.

But a slow and painful two hours later the ceremony was done, everyone standing and walking out of the church. You stood and hugged some of your friends before walking up to the front. You stood in front of her casket and stared down at it, another round of tears moving down your cheeks.

"H-Hey Chris...I-I'm so sorry this happened to you." You choked slightly "I miss you so much and hate that we're not gonna be able to finish life together. Graduation, college, being there for each other during the ups and downs, watching you get married and have babies." You sniffled and reached up to wipe away your tears, "I'm gonna get justice for you, Chrissy. I promise you. I'm gonna make him pay."

You stood there with your back to the rest of the church, not wanting to leave. Not wanting to leave her. But you knew that you needed to connect with the rest of the crew and Eddie. But as you stood there and went through your memories with your best friend, suddenly, you felt someone step up behind you. Your back straightened for a moment as a familiar voice spoke your name.

When you turned around, you came face to face with Jason Carver, flanked by the rest of his basketball team.

"Jason," You spoke, voice cracking slightly and reaching up to wipe away the stray tears left behind.

"How are you holding up?" He asked, a mask of concern on his face. But you didn't buy it, the two of you never really got along. But you were going to play along. You didn't have the energy to do anything more.

"As best as I can since my best friend was murdered."

Jason nodded his head, looking down, in a way that made you think he knew that answer already. "We know that Eddie was the one to do this to her. Eddie Munson. Cops came questioning us about her going to his house for some drug deal."

The way he said Eddie's name was like he was spitting venom from his mouth. So much disgust and hate wrapped around Eddie's name.

"Have they come and talked to you?" Jason asked.

You shook your head, "No one has come and talked to me about anything. I've been with my friend Robin for the last few days...been too hard to be home...seeing photos of her and stuff." You lied, it easily came to you as you spoke. But it was truly a lie, you do believe being home would've been too much. "Who told them Chrissy was doing a drug deal if I hadn't talked to them?"

Jason's brows pulled together in confusion, "What does it matter, they were lying...right?"

You stared at him and were unsure what to say. You promised Chrissy you wouldn't say anything about it, but who else could've known why Chrissy went to see Eddie. Someone must've seen them leaving the woods.

"It doesn't matter," Jason continued after you took too long to speak, his face cast with deep hatred and anger. "We know it was the freak that did this to her. Going around sacrificing around."

Your defenses went up before you could think about it, "You don't know Eddie. He wouldn't hurt anyone."

"Oh, and you do?" Jason scoffed with a cocky smirk. "You're really gonna say that about Chrissy's killer? Are you protecting him?

"Don't you fucking dare, Jason." You stepped toward him so you were nearly nose to nose with him. He was taller, meaning you had to look up at him. "I loved her like a sister and I wanna find out who hurt her. The real killer, not someone the town is afraid of and decided to blame."

You glare up at him for a few passing seconds before moving and pushing past him, slamming your shoulder into him as you walked past. Jason stood there confused for a moment before turning to watch you leave.

"She knows something," Jason spoke, looking around at his team members. "Gather the others, we need to regroup."

After the funeral, you drove back home with the rest of your family. You quickly changed out of the black dress and into a comfortable pair of jeans, t-shirt and grabbed your jacket. After tying on your Doc Marten's, you grabbed your keys to leave once again. It didn't take you long to get to Steve's house, pulling up quickly and parking your car to see his parked in the driveway. Were thankful your first guess on where they were was correct.

You knocked a couple of times and waited for someone to answer, after a couple of minutes, Nancy was the one standing on the other side of the door.

"Nancy? W-What are you doing here?" You looked at her confused.

"Come in, quickly, we have a lot to catch you up on."

Nancy ushered you into the home to see Steve and everyone else gathered in the kitchen area of the home. The first thing you noticed was Max sitting in the corner, drawings spread out across the breakfast nook table as her headphones blasted music into her ears. You could tell from the volume it was Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill".

"Uh...what's going on?" You looked around confused, "And why do you all look freaked out?"

"Why aren't you with Eddie!?" Dustin spoke.

"I just got back from Chrissy's funeral, it was this morning. He knows that I left and he's safe, don't worry. He's still at Rick's and has the walkie if you want to check on him." Your eye's shot to Max before looking away. "Now what's going on?"

"You might wanna sit down," Steve started, pointing to the bar stool. Your stomach twisted knowing that this wasn't going to be good.

You sat there and listened as the group told you what you had missed in the 24 hours you hadn't seen them. Fred, one of Nancy's editors, was another victim of Vecna. They had discovered that both Nancy and Fred had been seeing the school guidance counselor, Ms. Kelly.

"And we have another issue..." Dustin took a deep breath, "Max is now cursed by Vecna."

"What!" You shouted, "W-What? How?!"

"She's been seeing Ms. Kelly too. Already having the visions, and hearing the clock. We saved her last night from being...killed." Steve explained.

"It seems music helps keep him away, draws the mind back from his curse," Nancy spoke, looking over to Max who was still drawing. "It's the only thing protecting her right now."

"Jesus fuck," You groaned and rubbed at your face "What else do we have?"

"Well, we're following a lead about a Victor Creel. What's happening now is the same thing that happened to a family, the Creel's, in the '50s. And from the drawings Max is doing from her visions of Vecna, we've found out that his house is in them. So there has to be a connection there."

"Ok, so that's where you're headed now?" You asked

"It's the only real lead that we have." Nancy shrugged.

"And you guys know that Jason and the rest of his cronies are looking for Eddie right? They are convinced that it's him."

"Yeah...I-I told them about that," Lucus spoke, a little shame to his voice.

"It's getting dark soon, we should head out and start getting to the Creel House, we're on a time crunch now," Steve spoke.

You nodded and stood from your seat, and followed as everyone got ready to head out. Robin grabbed your hand and stopped you, causing you to turn and look at her.

"Are you ok?" She asked. "The funeral go ok?"

You nodded your head, "Yeah, i-it was nice. Jason kind of ruined it at the end being his normal dickish self. I can't believe he truly believes Eddie would be able to do this."

"Small-minded town, they don't really have logic when it comes to certain things." Robin frowned, before looking at you with a smirk. "You and Eddie have fun?"

"What?" Your eyes shot to her, "What do you mean?"

Robin laughed lightly and poked at your neck. You already knew what she was referring to, it made you turn away slightly embarrassed.

"We might've..." You but your lip "Don't say anything to anyone. Please?"

"Don't worry, I'm not going to say anything. I think it's cute that you two finally admitted your feelings for each other. It was so painfully obvious. Especially with how he clung to you and everything," Robin smiled.

"Thanks," You looked back out and watched as everyone else left, "Max is going to be ok right?"

"We'll take care of her. We're going to figure this all out." Robin spoke. "And Eddie walkie'd earlier, he wanted a six-pack of beers."

"Steve has to have one around here somewhere. You head out. I'll get him some stuff and head back to Rick's."

You pulled Robin into a hug before stepping apart and heading back out to the cars, after stealing beer from Steve's garage. By the time you pulled back up the dirt driveway of Rick's house, your stomach plummeted when you saw the all-familiar Jeep parked by the front of the house.

"Shit, shit, shit!" You spoke, panicked, and scrambled to get out of your car and not even bothering to shut the door. You raced around to the back of the house when you heard yelling;

"Hey, freak! Where do you think you're going!"

When you broke around the side of the boat house and looked down to the beach, your heart stopped for a moment. Eddie was out, paddling the boat out onto Lover's Lake, as Jason and the rest of his friends stood on the shoreline, stripping to jump out and get him.

"Stop!" You screamed out, your voice echoing over the lake and causing everyone to stop and turn to you. Eddie even stopping trying to turn the boat motor when he heard your voice.

"Should've fucking known," Jason scoffed, dropping the bat in his hand to the ground and marching toward you. "I knew something was up at the church!"

"Stay the fuck away from him," You glared at him.

Eddie couldn't really hear what either of you was saying but his heart wouldn't stop racing. He worked to get the boat to start, but it wouldn't go again. He began to panic more.

"Not now, not now," Eddie cursed "Fuck! Come on, I need to get to her."

Jason laughed harshly, "Should've known you were a fucking traitor. Got too fucking defensive the moment I mentioned him." Jason's eyes looked down and quickly spotted the love bites along your neck. "Oh...I see..." Jason laughed and looked back at his friends. "You're just a little slut fucking the psychopath."

"Don't fucking call him that!" You screamed, pushing back on Jason and sending him stumbling back a few steps.

It was quick and fast when you saw the change on his face. It was a look you recognized whenever he was around with Chrissy. But before you could move, Jason's hand came back across your face. Eddie watched helplessly as he heard the small yelp echo back out to the lake.

Your body hit the ground beneath you, hard, and sending shooting pain up your body. Everything around you was fuzzy and seemed to be going in and out. You could hear your name, it was Eddie. He was panicked and screaming for you. You squeezed your eyes tightly to try and focus once again, before rolling onto your side. Your eyes were able to focus and see Eddie out on the lake, using an oar to paddle back to you. Jason and Patrick stepped out into the water right for him.

"Run! Eddie, please!" You screamed out to him, seeing him falter for a moment, noticing Jason and Patrick. "Please! Go, Eddie! Run!"

He stopped there for a moment, conflicted between you and getting to safety. "Goddamn it!"

Eddie took once more glance back at you, watching as you stumbled up from the ground, before grabbing the oar and paddling back out again. He pushed as fast and as far as he could, but with glancing back, he could Jason catching up.

"Please...please..." You begged and moved to stand at the pier, prepared to jump if you needed to.

"Get back man!" Eddie screamed, swinging the oar at Jason as he reached the side of the boat.

But just as you were about to kick off your shoes and jump after them, everything went still. An eerie kind of still, to where the water didn't even move and everything else around you went silent. It sent a shiver through your body and made the hairs on your arm stand up.

"Patrick! Patrick! Come on man," Jason shouted back to his friend. "Why'd you stop? Come on!"

One second Patrick was there, and the next he was gone. Sucked beneath the surface of Lover's Lake and out of sight.

"What the fuck?" You muttered to yourself, staring out to the water confused about what was happening.

"Patrick!? Patrick?!" Jason shouted, searching for his friend.

But just as Jason called out his friend's name for the second time, a fast and sudden movement shot up from the lake. Your eyes traveled up, and widened with shock and fear, as you watched Patrick float midair. His head was tilted back to look to the sky, and one by one, you watched his limbs begin to snap.

You didn't even notice Eddie fall into the water, your eyes too transfixed on the sight before you. You remembered the story that Eddie told of Chrissy.

"...it was like something was inside of her man...pulling from the inside out..." Eddie's voice echoed in your mind.

And just as quickly as he was shot up into the sky, Patrick fell violently back into the water. You stood there in shock for a moment, not understanding fully what you just saw. You knew it was Vecna, but other than that you weren't able to process anything. Movement caught your eyes and you saw Eddie swimming away and back to the shore.

A small cry left your lips as you moved off the pier and ran a couple houses down. Just as Eddie reached the shore and stumbled from the cold water, you reached him. You didn't even give him a chance to fully stand and get out of the water before your arms were wrapped tightly around him.

"Oh my god," You cried and held to him tightly, Eddie leaning into you and grasping to you just as tightly. His body shivered slightly against yours but he didn't care. All that he cared about was that he was with you. That you were in his arms.

"Patrick!? Patrick!?” You heard Jason's voice scream from the lake.

The two of you turned and looked back out to the lake to see him frantically searching the water.

"We gotta go, Eddie. We gotta go." You whispered harshly, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the shore.

The two of you ran up to your car and quickly got in before driving away. Deep down, you knew that Jason was going to tell the cops that you were there with Eddie, and driving in your car wasn't safe.

"Jesus H. Christ!" Eddie screamed, pushing his curls back from his face. "I fucking can't believe they found me."

"Your safe now, that's all that matters."

"But you're in this now!" Eddie said panicked, "Fuck! He hit you!"

"We can't freak out right now, Eddie. We need to ditch my car somewhere cause I'm positive they are going to call the cops, somehow blame you, and let them know I'm with you. Once we are somewhere safe, then we can freak out." You looked to him as you drove, "Got it?"

Eddie nodded his head and took a few deep breaths as you drove down the back roads of Hawkins. You pulled off onto the side of the road where you saw an opening, pulling your car in behind a few bushes, before getting out. Eddie rushed around the car and quickly grabbed you, holding tightly to your hand as the two of you rushed across the street and into the Hawkins woods.

The two of you ran off until you felt like you couldn't breathe anymore, leaning back against a large cluster of rocks in an opening. Eddie leaned against it beside you as the two of you fell into silence.

After a moment Eddie stood in front of you and gently caressed your face, wincing slightly as his fingers touched your cheek.

"Can't believe he fucking hit you," Eddie spoke, his voice tense with anger.

"I'm fine, really." You whimpered, turning away from his touch.

"Are you kidding me? I can see the bruise forming already." Eddie stepped back and groaned angrily, fisting his hands tightly at his side. "I...I should've been there! Done something!"

You quickly began to shake your head quickly and reached out to stop him from pacing. “Eddie, stop…don’t go blaming yourself for this either. This is Jason’s fault. And I just wanted you safe. Cause I don’t know what I'd do if something happened to you. I can’t lose you too”

Eddie sagged slightly and his face softened as he stared down at you. Even in the moonlight, he could see the worried look on your face, like you were on the brink of tears again.

"You're not gonna lose me," Eddie caressed the other side of your face, bringing you into a hug, "I'm not going anywhere, ok?"

You nodded your head as you rested against his chest, gripping tightly to his vest. The two of you stood there in the moonlight for a moment before walking over and getting beneath the cluster of boulders. Eddie pulled you into his side and pressed his lips against your forehead as you held onto him.

"We're gonna have to figure out how to reach the others." You whispered

"Don't worry, we'll figure it out," Eddie spoke softly.

I think we're 1/2 way there, or almost there? Let me know your thoughts!!

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