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#someday I will formally write it down for now is in a conversation with my friend
cinnaminku · 2 years
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Clear, his two husbands and their baby
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fanaticsnail · 2 months
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Finally at home so I can give you the proper hiperfixation review of Sapsorrow ch. 8!!!
Governess giving Buggy a reprimand 😅 Poor guy was just trying to make things flashy. He's lucky he's cute and eager to help.
Yeahhh, we've been waiting all this time to read Mihawk say outloud that phrase!!! I was hoping it was by pointing Yoru's to someone's neck. Thanks Beck for the map, I know it was his idea, if it was for Shanks he would've send poor Mihawk to search blindly but we laugh last because guess who's gonna go searching for his own bride soon??? 😎
Ohhh, the assembly in the cave! I can just imagine how radiant it may look! No, Buggy, you can't have our Governess, better start running!!!
Mihawk on his knees, singing... 🫠🫠🫠
“The seas and sword were my first love,
The training alone be vast.
Although you were not my first to love,
May we both be each's last.”
Those last verses got me all 🥹, they are beautiful!!!
OMG!!! Zoro is having second thoughts. It didn't down on me that Zoro would have to kill Mihawk in battle someday to claim his tittle. I thought that just disarm him on an formal duel or something and he admitting defeat was enough. Tho, it may still take a whiiiiile. Rayleigh and Garp were still out there all chill and undefeated at their 70s/60s.
I agree with Mihawk, Buggy seems to want to be behead today 😂 but ohhh, that was so flashy!!! Even better than Hunger Games: Catching Fire because the Starlight Dress is more spectacular!!! I just can picture all the colors you describe!!! ✨🌈
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The dancing has started!!! Tango ensues!!! Time to shift music 💃
He had A feeling 🥰
“For whatever comes next, sounds like an awfully exciting adventure, my heart.” 🥹
My eyes are watering for lack of proper sleep and spring allergies, not because Zoro and Governess conversation 🥲
OMG, we get to dance with everybody, I love it here!!!
Oh, my dear Croc, indeed, what used would you have for a tamer of unruly individuals? It would be a shame that you find an unruly individual to tame to save your soul 😏
Aww, dancing with Buggy sounds delightfully funny, if this was a modern AU I know he would be out there giving John Travolta a run for his money 🕺🪩
I imagine Shanks knows how to dance almost everything. Meanwhile, Beck not knowing how to waltz it's so endearing!
Yeah, a fire by the beach sounds idilyc!!!
Oh, god, surprises still coming! Another tradition? Thanks, Shanks, who would have thought he was such a traditional guy???
"... make as much noise as we can while you perform your husbandly duties." I cracked so much when I first read it 🤣
In Germa they do what now?! 😳 Do not picture Sanji, do not... *picturing Sanji* 🫠
The Sun Dress is coming!!!
“You’ll have to wear a blindfold too.” asdfsadasf 🫠🫠🫠
I apologize for my lack of articulation here but my brain has turned into mush 🙃
EEEEEEEEE A chapter review by Vita??? My goodness! Not only do you spoil me with your beautiful art, but now reviews!! My goodness!
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Buggy was a whole pest this chapter. I hope he knows what he's in for when the spectre goes after him 😏.
If Beckman wasn't as competent and thoughtful as he was, Mihawk may yet still be searching for his bride.
The cave scene was on my mind for so, so long. That, and the dancing. I was so glad to finally pump those words out - especially the song. I pulled out all the stops for that little song - even composed it musically with my guitar and violin to see if it would sound as good out loud as it did in my head 🥴.
The way I didn't even think about the hunger games 🤦‍♀️. My goodness, what a comparison though! Where Katniss' was more a controlled flame, Buggy literally went to set her on fire 💀💀💀.
I am sorry for the tears! They needed to have a bit of a rapport together, Zoro and his governess, to support each other. Zoro was there for her in the start of their adventure, it was only fitting for her to be supportive of his.
The way that "The Sands of Time" is writing itself at this point. I'm just there with a glass of wine and watching it happen. Poor Crocodile. Will he need someone to tame his unruly princess, or will the governess aid her in taming him 😏.
Buggy as Travolta 💀💀💀. Someone needs to draw that 👀
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Poor Beckman spent all his time learning how to be the loyal knight of the Red-Hair Pirates, he never learnt how to dance. Poor gentleman. Shanks, on the other hand (HAH, HAND) knows how to dance - and dances well.
Oh, goodness. So many traditions. Poor Sanji, indeed. Poor Vinsmoke Sora 😭.
And the blindfold chapter is coming. Hands, fingertips, material, temperature changes, whispers, surprises - it's all coming soon!!
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fivekrystalpetals · 10 months
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Not me making the umpteenth post about this very panel, but, bc I have only so much to go by here ;_; this panel has some funny underlying subtext because at the first glance, this seems like a very normal, very formal conversation between two people who are more or less strangers but--
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1.] Break knows her name now?
interesting that Break addresses her as Miss Lottie here, and not little miss (flirty (derogatory)) like in the Sablier arc.
so, my guess is that he really did not know her name then, because he simply followed Oz (eye of the cyclone lmao) hoping to find some Baskervilles targeting him as they did in the Lutwidge. In fact, Oz himself wanted to do the same, put himself out there as bait for the Baskervilles before deciding to venture into Sablier.
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(Funny how Break shoots down Oz's idea of meeting the Baskervilles with the excuse that they might be following absolute orders and hence, useless to negotiate with. and then..... proceeds to do the same lol)
[more under the cut cuz I can't shut up about these two lol]
Also, in the same chapter, Oz lets slip Zwei's name in their conversation which Break silently registers--
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all in all, the most names among the Baskervilles he would have known by the time of Sablier arc is Zwei's.
meaning, after returning from his meet-cute meeting with Lottie, he must have set about trying to find out her name. Since they don't have internet in those times, only way to get information is to manually dig around.
but... of course, that is not possible just like that, right? Break cannot ask around a Baskerville's name without raising a bunch of questions, facing trouble from the Pandora (which is why he even hid the Intention's desire from them), ntm, nobody even knew any of the Baskervilles, much less their names.
Well, nobody except Oz. Oz did get to meet the Baskervilles and see and hear them interacting. during which time, Fang and Doug did call out Lottie's name a bunch of times. so obvs Oz should know her name. however, it's up in the air whether he would remember, rather want to remember the name of the girl who stomped all over his chest?
so this means Break really went that extra mile to manipulate this information out of Oz without rousing his suspicions. Oz is too smart for his own good, mind you. The slightest misstep, he is going to figure out what Break was planning:
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and from this panel, it appears he didn't want anyone (including Oz and Gil) to know what he had been planning with the Baskervilles. and now even we, the readers, will never know lol
He must have asked Oz to recount his experiences from Lutwidge for him again and got him to slip up her name, the way Oz did for Zwei. Sneaky, so sneaky!
sooooo, while everyone was busy putting together two and two about the Tragedy of Sablier and whatnot, Break here was trying to squeeze out the name of the girl he met in a dungeon someday before he went fully blind (he was fated to see her just once, he can never see her again.) lmaooo what kind of shoujo manga plot was he playing out here?
2.] Lottie expected to meet him again?
This is a little more obvious but funny (to me) nevertheless. when Break puts his sword at her throat, Lottie doesn't even blink or get startled, merely sighs and goes: oh yeah I was wondering why the hell you didn't show up?
But for some reason I felt you'd show your face here.
So, I don't think she means Break making an appearance at Yura's party. That's way too obvious. Rainsworths, and by extension, Break their important valet, are invited and are going to be present here.
No, this means she had a feeling Break would slip out of there and come out here to have a tête-à-tête with her which is just... ??? How was she so sure? Was she looking forward to it? Waiting for him to write her a letter to her hiding place in Sablier or something? Waiting for him to come there just as her lion knocked down Yura? She wasn't in the least fazed! just goes, oh yeah I was waiting for you >_>
Because logically, Break surely went radio silent the whole of the month(?), right? Owing to his untimely blindness, whatever plans he might have had for her also must have cut off. Unless he got help from another person which he didn't seem to want, esp. not in this case, which, for whatever reason, he wanted to keep a complete secret. And in spite of this radio silence, Lottie doesn't think he was bluffing or stood her up at Sablier. She actually seems quite prepared to meet him here? I wonder how many times she turned the scenario over and over in her mind since they met and parted, and got more irritated what the hell did he mean and if he did mean something, why can't he contact her again?
because, the very first thing she demands of him is an explanation of what he meant by his words at Sablier
and surprisingly, this.... surprises him? at least enough to sheathe his sword and start talking properly to her??? (a huge thing bc Break never gives a straight answer; he is always talking in riddles and annoying everyone on purpose)
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chelleztjs18 · 1 year
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Hello you mrs. hater of frogs honey nut cheerio lefty eyebag 😌
Yes, I really want to know where they get the breads from so I can order it and make it into garlic bread for pasta days 😂🤤
Well, the headache went away this morning. But it's starting to show up again now. Maybe it's too much light. This new place has really nice lighting but it's very bright.
I wanted to add, the part 4 ending also reminded me how Love just killed the sister in season 2 of you. Not as gory as how you described lol now don't go boosting my ego about what I said hahaha maybe that can be in the epilogue.. or give us a cliffhanger in the epilogue.. I'm going to throw my phone if that happens just kidding 🤣
Or what if, R actually becomes tired of Nat, even though R was very much in love with her, R still doesn't know the true meaning of it. So, they grew tired of Natasha and tries to get rid of her and makes her the suspect in all of the killings/missing people that have happened. Dun dun dun.
Anyways.
You don't like eggplant? What other vegetables don't you like to eat? Besides onions.
I like pork the most but don't eat it as much. I also only just eat chicken breast or the thighs. But they have to be baked or grilled. If I have fried chicken, I like it extra crispy 🤤
Great all this food talk is making me hungry hahaha and I just had sandwich and chips! When you do your fasting, do you plan on what to eat or do like a meal prep thing? Or just eat whatever there is in the fridge or pantry?
Ahahahahahaha why did you have to describe the frog like that?? Act like the sexiest animal 🤣🤣 it makes me think that they are posing on their side with a half smirk.
Yeah see, it's the food poisoning part that scares me about oysters. I think I've heard too many stories like that for me not to want to try it at all. My cousin, who loves baked oysters, would always post about it when she orders it. It has cheese on top and all that, and I'm here just gagging at the thought of how it would slide down your throat like mucus... 😒
If you like squid, do you like calamari?
Ah I see. So you wear dresses when you go to formal events?
I am the same when it comes with shoes. As long as it's comfortable, I will wear it. But I really like my converse or vans.
What was your favorite subject in school?
- CuriousGeorge
Hello bread lovers righty eyebag!
Oh so u like garlic bread? My husband's family think it's funny n weird that i dont like garlic bread. 😅
Oh no that sucks.. yeah maybe light can be the culprit too.. maybe u can try get a curtain or blinds that can block the light. I personally dont like too much light in my house or room.
Ah yeah i remember that episode of You. So in thay chapter 4 ,u think that it's pretty gory? I personally i feel like it's not gory enough. 😅 i wish i could make it more gory.
Oooh my god! Ur idea is brilliant! How R try to frame Nat because she is bored n try to get rid of Nat.. oh my god! Why didnt i think that. But i think it's a whole nother level of plot n need a hell of writing skill to make it happen. N my skill is still far away from that. Hats off on the idea though! Maybe someday if u finally message me in person u can help me brainstorming.🤭😁 anyway, r u sure u r not a writer? 🤭 haha.
No, i dont like eggplants. I also dont like crispy stem vegies like brocoli, carrots, brussel sprouts1. I love leafy vegies. Hope my answer makes sense?
For fried food i like it crispy but not too much batter. When i break the fasting,i usually just eat whatever i have to minimize what i eat.
Ahaha but it was true.. just google frog legs, u'll see what i meant. I looks like legs with muscles n trying to be sexy. Haha. Ew a frog posting like that with a smirk? 😅
Oh yeah, to me oysters r gross. Some people eat with lots of lemon juice to kinda "cook" it but then again a no for me because i dont like sour.
Yes i love calamari..
Yes mostly i wear dress for formal event. When i used to work at the travel/tourism industry, i used to wear either short skirt with button shirt, but mostly i wear pants with button shirt n sometimes with vest or jacket suit, with high heels.
Ah i see. I like converse / vans shoes, they r canvas shoes right? Keds brands have same style of shoes. So u might want to check it out.
I loooove french subjects, english and biology. Whats urs?
Cheerio!
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startanewdream · 3 years
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Have you ever had a conversation between Hermione and Lily? About anything- being muggle born, school, I-have-a-crush-on-an-annoying-boy dilemmas?
I'm always nervous to write about Hermione (her voice is so hard), but I hope I made her justice in this story.
Set right before the beginning of Hermione's Fourth Year.
*-*-*-*-*-*--*-*-*-*
“Thanks so much for coming with me, Mrs Potter.”
Lily turns to look at Hermione as they walk around the quiet streets of the Diagon Alley. Hermione seems strangely embarrassed around her.
“It’s Lily,” she insists, knowing very well that Hermione will struggle a little more until she feels comfortable calling her by her first name. “And it was my pleasure. Thanks for inviting me.”
“I did not want to give you so much trouble—”
“You did not,” Lily assures her. “In fact, you did me a favour. I’ve been meaning to come to Madame Malkin’s for ages.”
“Still, you’ve come all the way from Dorset by car and I could have met you already in the Leaky Cauldron—”
“Another favour.” Lily smiles at her, winking. “I never get a good opportunity to drive. We all apparate so much.”
“It seems easier.”
“It is,” she agrees. “But driving around reminds me of road trips with my parents when we were kids.” Lily sighs. “I should try one with Harry someday.”
“He never mentioned knew how to could drive.”
Lily rolls her eyes. “Well, I guess driving cars is less cooler than flying on broomsticks.”
“What is it with boys and broomsticks?” Hermione crosses her arm, a grumpy expression on her face. “He worships Quidditch players, can’t talk about anything else, and who cares about Wonky-Faint whatever…”
“I’m guessing that also helped your urge to get out of the Burrow for a few hours,” Lily says knowingly. Hermione turns to her, her face flushed.
“Harry is not that bad,” she replies, and Lily lets it slide the fact that she knew before-hand that Hermione wasn’t talking about him at all. “I mean, he is not worse than Ginny, I guess. She can talk about Quidditch for hours too.”
“I promise you it gets a little better as they grow up,” Lily says. “Not their enthusiasm, but people do get other priorities.” She glances purposefully at the window of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions now they’ve reached it.
“Clothes?” Hermione asks dismayingly.
“Not necessary.” Lily laughs. “But there is a reason for dress robes being in the school list this year.”
“Which is?”
“Well, there is a ball involved, but I can’t tell you anymore, sorry. You will find out soon enough.” Lily nods to the door. “Let’s go?”
Hermione still looks curious, but Lily knows she won’t push very much—unlike Harry, she thinks, who would not stop pestering her about information, more for the fun of it than because he probably wanted to know. He didn’t even blink when she told him he’d need dress robes, after all.
Madam Malkin greets them with her usual friendliness. She takes a look at Hermione and seems to know exactly what she’ll need, because she directs them to the section of young witches’ robes.
“Any model you favour, dear?” she asks, looking at Hermione with a smile. “The latest edition of Witch Weekly mentioned that laces are the new fashion for the season—”
“Why don’t you let us take a few looks around?” Lly suggests amicably, seeing Hermione’s panic look. “It’s her first formal robe, we are looking for something special. We’ll know when we see it.”
“Of course, Madam. If you need anything, just call me.”
Hermione lets out a relieved breath. “Thanks. That’s why I gave up coming here a few weeks ago.”
“You had already come?”
“With my parents, when the school list came. But I only bought the books that day.”
“Oh, what was the problem?”
Hermione looks down. “Neither me or my mum knew about dress robes, they are nothing like muggle dresses, I mean—”
“I understand,” Lily assures her, refraining from her sudden urge to hug Hermione. “You could have asked your mother to come with us. I’m always happy to see Rose.”
“I thought about it, but I was already at the Burrow and…” Hermione presses her lips. “I don’t think my mum enjoyed shopping for clothes with me.”
Lily hesitates for a moment. “Did she say anything?”
“No, but… this is just another thing that’s different. I mean, it’s fashion! Why does it have to be so different? Why can’t muggles and wizards share something as stupid as clothes?”
Lily wishes she had a different answer. “You know why,” she replies softly.
“Prejudice.”
“They will try to make you forget who you are, your roots, everything you lived ten years before you were dragged into this magical world… don’t let them win.”
Realization dawns on Hermione’s face.
“That’s why you drive.”
Lily nods. “And why I love technology and I use pens instead of quills and I made sure Harry knows he belongs to both worlds. As you do. That makes you twice as good as any pureblood wizard.”
Hermione blinks. “Ron is not like that.”
“No, he is not,” Lily agrees with a fond smile. “Molly raised all her kids very well. I meant the other purebloods, the ones—”
“That call me mudblood, yeah.”
And there is it already, Lily thinks sadly, the slang coming from Hermione’s mouth with no self-pitying as if she is used to it.
Mudblood, Snape cried at her nearly twenty years ago, and sometimes it feels as if nothing will ever change.
No, she can’t believe it.
“Your blood doesn’t define who you are.”
“I know,” Hermione whispers, a challenge shining in her eyes that fills Lily with hope again. Hermione won’t ever let anyone tell her she doesn't belong.
“And you know what? You were right. Let’s find some robes that look more like real dresses so you can send your mum a photo later. No need for all this fabric.”
“Or laces,” Hermione suggests, and they exchange a grin.
It takes a few minutes and some search in some racks that seem of an older collection, but at least they select a few dresses that resemble more traditional muggle dresses. Hermione is smiling when she comes back from the dressing room wearing a bright green dress that falls floaty and beautifully on her.
“This one,” she declares.
“Don’t you wish to try another model as well, darling?” Madam Malkin asks, but Hermione shakes her head resolutely.
“I liked this one.”
“You look great,” Lily agrees.
“There is only one thing… I don’t think green is my colour.”
“We can change it without any problem,” Madam Malkin says at once. “Which colour do you want?”
“Hmmm.” Hermione looks at Lily. “What do you think?”
“This green reminds me of Harry’s eyes. How about something to highlight yours?”
“Brown doesn’t feel very festive… Eyes,” Hermione mumbles to herself. There is an evident flush on her face as she turns back to Madam Malkin. “Can I try blue?”
“What shade of blue?”
“Like the one the sky turns just before sunset? With that hue of purple, very lightly?”
“Oh, you mean periwinkle blue,” Madam Malkin tells her excitedly. “Here, darling.”
And with a twist of her wand, Hermione’s robes change to a colour that reminds Lily suddenly of staring at Ron Weasley’s joyful eyes.
“It matches you perfectly,” she says, not hiding her knowing grin this time.
“Let me just take your size, darling.”
Hermione standing still, looking at herself in the mirror, straightening her dress and turning around, with a rather critical look on her face.
“You’ll look amazing on the ball,” Lily says quietly.
“I... If there is a ball—most likely no one will ask me.”
“You never know.”
Hermione sighs. “Ron doesn’t even—I mean, boys don’t usually look at me.”
“You are at that age. Give it time. That’s something a ball helps with, to throw it back on his face that you are an amazing girl that deserves attention. Boys are just stupid when they are teenagers.”
Hermione laughs for a moment. “Yeah, I know, but…”
“But you still care. Girls are silly too.” Lily winks at her. “Just remember—whatever happens at the ball, it’s a night for you to feel pretty. To love yourself.”
“I can’t be pretty.”
“You already are. I should have said for you to feel divine. Less of our daily versions. No weights on our shoulders.”
“I can’t even… tame my hair or—”
“Your hair is gorgeous,” Lily says at once, caressing Hermione’s strands.
“I wish it were more like yours.”
“And I used to envy my sister’s blond locks,” Lily notes. “We are taught to never feel happy with how we are, and that’s just another thing that’s wrong.”
Hermione looks at her reflection, thoughtful. “I’m pretty,” she mumbles as if convincing herself.
She chooses a set of robes for herself for a formal dinner she will have in a couple of months—Hermione seems glad when Lily asks her opinion—and they are by the cashier when Lily turns to Hermione.
“If you really want to change your hairstyle for the ball—and you don’t need it—you can always try your hand with Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion.”
“What’s this?”
“A potion that’s like some sort of muggle hair mousse, only magical. A bit easier too.”
“Have you ever tried?”
“No, Monty said it was rather unpredictable for red haired people.”
“Monty?”
“Fleamont Potter.”
“As in—”
“As in James’s father. Oh, didn’t you know he invented a hair care potion? That’s how he and James’s mother retired early in life.”
“So you mean that Mr Potter’s father developed a hair potion and yet—”
“And yet my husband and son still have the messiest hair in history, yeah.”
Hermione laughs heartily.
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flusteredloser · 3 years
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subzero - beverly marsh x fem!reader
it fandom week: huddling for warmth
content warnings: mentions of intoxication, smoking, swearing, fire, harmless threats, inhaler abuse, enemies to lovers, also i’m making bev tall bc i love tall gals word count: 3k
at the ripe age of ten years old, you knew you wanted to become a mother. the appeal of bouncing children in your lap, tucking them into bed, and the empowering feeling of calming tantrums down was something you naively believed was your destiny.  now, ten-year-old you was never wrong, you knew that. but what you didn’t expect was for your dream to come true at eighteen, stuck mothering six drunken teenage sons during a hailstorm’s power outage.
“edward. kaspbrak. i swear to god, if you do not go to sleep right now i will knock you out with your own inhaler.”
eddie groans at your words, still teeter-tottering towards the mattress. richie was already in bed, practically dead for a past half-hour. 
thankfully, he didn’t wake up from his comatose state when eddie gracefully slammed headfirst into the bed. you held your breath as the bed shook under eddie’s weight. drunken eddie was already a nightmare, what more, an even worse nightmare when catalysed with richie’s antics.  mike was slightly more useful. after throwing up in almost every sink in the house, he helped carry a very tipsy ben up the stairs and they were now both unconscious down the hall. bill wasn't exactly a disturbance, but he was incredibly determined to show us that he could play the piano right now if asked, that his skills were only heightened after dark. (the fact that bill had never touched a piano in his life, or that bev's apartment didn't even have a piano wasn't stopping him). bev was taking care of them in the other room, and based on the muffled conversation, was still trying to coax bill to sleep.  you and bev being the losers’ designated sober pair for tonight was the worst idea that had ever occurred to anyone. ever. the eight of you agreed. if you needed something done, you’d never leave the two of you to do it together.  but stan had explained that the rotation required the two of you to pair up tonight, no matter what. you didn’t quite understand the necessity of it but in all honesty, you’d rather put up with bev’s clownery than upset stan further.   speaking of, you glance at the lump on the floor, peacefully swaddled and engulfed in the massive duvet. you should probably check on stan’s breathing later. 
now, though, you still had one child left.
hearing the sound of an air pump go off from the bed, you walk back to eddie.
“but i’m so cold and i’m not even tired,” said eddie, his inhaler still jammed in his mouth.
“eddie, the power will be back in no time, and if you keep pumping that shit in your mouth, you’re never going to feel tired,” you sigh, taking the aspirator away.
“no, but seriously.” eddie continues, his eyes filled with sleep-deprived mania. “i swear, i’m like wide awake, i don’t even need sleep right now, it’s technically the morning and nO WHAT THE HELL-”
clutching the pump in your hand, you watch the white vapour shoot against eddie’s face. nothing but eddie’s exasperated coughing filled the room.
“i told you, i’m not afraid to use this.”
“i thought...you said...you were going to...knock me out with it,” eddie questioned between coughs.
you narrow your eyes at him, “you keep this up and i will knock you with it.” 
“wow, you really are gonna make a great mother someday.”  you let out a deep groan, turning to see where the new voice came from. leaning against the doorframe with a lit cigarette between her fingers was bev in all her smug glory. 
“you know, after dealing with kaspbrak tonight, he makes you look like an angel,” you roll your eyes.
“hey!” you hear a muffled voice from under the blanket. 
“go to sleep, pretty boy,” bev chuckles, some smoke escaping with her laugh, “i know it’s hard after seeing her troll face but you have to try.”
you rolled your eyes again at the two giggles in the room, shuffling around the bed, carefully stepping around stan’s body. you continue to walk past bev and into the hall. 
the house was silent. no one lived here anymore but bev since you guys graduated, and since mr. marsh stopped residing here, the apartment had an almost peaceful quality.
walking past the guest room, you grin at the sight of mike, ben, and bill entwined together on the floor. oh, how much tamer this group would’ve been compared to the menaces next door. 
you snatch your backpack from the living room sofa and dug through the pockets anxiously. searching against the walls of your bag and still finding nothing, you began to feel more and more nervous. “fucking hell, where is it,” you whisper. at this rate, you weren’t sure if the thumping in your ears was from the sound of sharp hail hitting the windows or your heart beating in your throat. you stand up in a deeper panic, aggressively patting your pockets up and down.
“you know, as entertaining as this is to watch, i almost feel bad.” 
“bev..." you sigh. "i am not in the mood."
“why? too busy looking for your pack of camels?” you hear the sound of a familiar cardboard flap opening, “personally, i’m more of a marlboro girl but i mean, these work too.”
you spin around and storm up to bev, snatching the lit cigarette from her lips. “that’s mine?”
she smirks, “you left your backpack open, it was practically an invitation.” 
“an invitation for you to go through my shit?” you hissed, dangling the ignited end near her face.
she snatched her cig back and mockingly dangling it back near your face, “yeah, a formal invitation for me to smoke off this monstrosity of a temperature. what do you want, an apology too? i can write you one asap, let me find bill’s notebook-”
taking the cig back once more, you snap. "you’re such an ass, bev.”
she grins, following closely behind you. she could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and she secretly hoped you’d accidentally stop in your tracks so she could run into you. in the name of transferring body heat and what not. shaking off these thoughts that were hijacking her brain, she makes a kissy sound, “c’mon, you know you love it.”
“mmhm sure, bev. because i’m really into girls stealing my shit.”
pinching the flame from the cig and dumping it in the tray, she leads the both of you into the supply closet. she chuckles as she leans against the doorway, leaving you feeling trapped in the tight room. you knew she was laughing because you insisted on going in first and now that you were the one having to get the stuff, but you didn’t quite register that the things you needed was on the top shelf. up high stood a high stack of blankets. and they looked like they could singlehandedly cure the subzero temperature. 
clearly, you must have been looking up at the blankets for a moment too long because bev gave up and leaned forwards to grab the stack. the sensation of her flushed against your back was enough to make you dizzy, not to mention how absolutely warm she was. and of course... it was bev. 
bev. the girl who you rolled your eyes at every day, the girl who taunts you at any given minute, the girl you would, and had, risked your life for. you guys never talk about neibolt, but sometimes you catch yourself thinking of what could have happened if it went south. if you hadn’t grabbed her in time, and if you didn’t switch places just before pennywise launched at you...  absentmindedly tracing the scar down your stomach, you think of the absolute lack of regret you feel to this day. you always had this joke that you wanted to kill her, but how much of that was true?
“darling, did the cold already go and rot your brain?” bev faux-pouts, “not that there was much to begin with, but i’m still worried.” the stack of blankets was now under her arms with one stretched out as she began to wrap it around herself.
never mind. sometimes you did want to kill her. 
by habit, you went on your tip toes in order to get to bev’s face, but she was already crouched a couple inches from your face. trying to keep your racing heart under wraps, you choke out a semi-convincing “don’t make me murder you, beverly.”
she grins back your serious face. "aww no, i couldn’t let you do that. the knives and other weapons are also stored up there.” she teases, slinging her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to deliver the blankets to the boys. 
"oh, fuck off." you shove bev's arm off of you and walked back into richie, eddie, and stan's room. true to your word, you kneeled down to the floor and gently rolled stan’s head towards you. placing your two fingers against his pulse point, you giggle to yourself at the absurd action. if it wasn’t already obvious that he was indeed alive, he groans under you, but you shush him in time. lightly stroking his curls, you whisper. "i’m just checking up on you, stan,” placing the second blanket onto him. he groaned back.
quietly tip-toeing towards the bed, you tossed the other blanket over richie and eddie. “i swear, these guys would be dead already without us.” you laugh to yourself. 
a dim light flickers from the living room and casts a light across the hall. you shut the door behind you as you leave, going into the living room to see bev on the sofa, engulfed in her own large fleece blanket. the only thing peeking out was her face and hands as her she alternated flickering her lighter's warmth on her fingers. 
without thinking, you plop by her on the sofa. “whatcha doing there, you pyro?”
“it’s getting so fucking cold,” bev half-heartedly jokes. you can see her eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, but her voice was so contradictingly soft it made your heart melt.
you extended your open hand to her and she stared at it. “blood oath part two? promise to never be sober again during a powercut?”
“i wish, and shut up. don’t play dumb with me, beverly.”
you notice the slightest tinge in her cheeks as she places her hand along with her lighter in yours. you immediately recoil at her freezing fingertips and the lighter clatters to the ground. bev rolls her eyes and shifts away, “first you want to hold my hand, secondly you’re acting like i have fucking HIV.”
“firstly, smartass, i’d still hold your hand if you had HIV-”
“aww-”
“because it’s a blood-borne pathogen so unless you bleed or shit or lactate on my hand, i’m safe.”
bev’s face scrunches up. “how romantic.”
“now shut it and give me your hand already.” you say, placing your palm out for her again.
now bev is the one rolling her eyes at you for a change. she gives you her hand, much slower this time though, careful not to have you pull away again. not having you pull away? why was this something she was considering? 
immediately, bev felt the heat from your skin radiate against hers’, instantly igniting her skin in goosebumps. she instinctively gave you her other hand and you take with a soft smile. 
“now...why the hell are you built like a goddamn radiator.” bev grumbled, rubbing her hands together under yours.
“well, i don’t see you complaining, do i?” you raise your eyebrows.
“i’m not mad...it’s just that it’s not like you need it,” bev says between chuckles, “you’re like five feet tall. not exactly a lot of surface area to heat up.”
“you’re such a dick, bev. you’re losing your hand-holding privileges,” you side-eye, pulling your warm fingers away.
she gasped, “oh, don’t you dare.”
“yes, i do. it’s not like i’m dying to feel your freezing hands on me, bev.” you desperately try to make the statement sound as sarcastic as you can, but it ends up coming out much shakier than expected. 
even in the dark, you can see the glint of bev’s mischievous grin. “oh really? you don’t want to feel my freezing hands?” “is that a trick question?” you sigh exasperatedly, “because if you as much as-”
suddenly, you feel bev’s ice-cold fingers press against the skin on your ribcage and you immediately squeal. you clamp your hand over your mouth at the scare, you try and contain the others sounds that escape you as she further presses her freezing hands against your warm skin. scrambling away from her grasp, you slap the back of her head.
“you stop that right now or i will leave you on your own porch to freeze,” you threaten through gritted teeth.
“mmhm, like you would.” she teases, continuing to press the pads of her still-cold fingertips into your stomach. 
you felt your heart rate rise significantly, to the point that you were sure that your unknown warmness was actually due to bev making the blood pump 10x more than normal. every braincell swimming inside your head was on the brink of short-circuiting at the feeling of bev’s hands dancing along the edge of your bra. what the hell is she thinking?
after a couple more rounds of her threatening to freeze your midriff and you threatening to crack open a window, you both surrender and allow her keep her hands clasped between yours, resting atop your chest.
“are you not getting any warmer?” you groan, forcing yourself to snap out of your own feelings. 
“hey, you’re the hot-pack here. do you think i’m feeling any warmer?” she goes back to press her freezing palms against your stomach.
“no, no, no, do not do that again.”
bev sighs, “then what the hell am i supposed to do?” she sits upright and tightens the blanket around her head. shifting away from you, she shivers her way back into the other end of the sofa. “i’m dressed in triple the layers you are, moved around way more than you have, i’m even wearing this gigantic fleece eyesore-”
“oh for fuck’s sake just come back here.” you roll your eyes.
bev moves about an inch closer. 
you feel your heart constrict in your chest and you let yourself say it before you could think it any further, “i said, come here.” you lift one of your arms and gesture for her to come closer. scooting your body near to the end of the sofa, it was clear that the space you made was so she could easily crawl in next to you.
“are- are you... you want me to-”
you’re sure your whole face has gone red. bev she already can’t stand you so why not just make it even more awkward, huh? you bit your tongue gently, calming yourself down. if bev didn’t know that you offered to cuddle with her just because you could, then that was her fault for being so daft. you sigh, resuming back into your deadpan state. “yeah, i can’t listen to another minute of your whinging.”
“no, i heard you, i just-” she stammers, looking equally red herself. you feel a huge tiny sense of pride as you realised you’ve rendered bev speechless. beverly marsh. speechless.  
“what are you waiting for?” you tease, “a formal invitation?” 
having the upper hand for once was refreshing, if not thrilling. being the one to tease her and watch her become flustered was something you wish could happen more often. 
bev’s face breaks out in the softest smile you’ve ever seen. she slowly makes her way over to you, shifting her body close to yours without touching you yet. “is that too much to ask for? a formal invitation?” you let out an unexpected genuine laugh at her silliness and bev giggles in unison. this was different than your default laughter made of semi-amusement and sarcasm. she rests her weight against you, her cheek gently pressing into your collarbone. her fingertips resume their spot against the flushed skin of your stomach and your own cheeks turn red again. there wasn’t a functional reason for her to do that anymore.
“stop that before i regret this, bev.”
“there’s no way in hell you regret this.” she grins, followed by the faintest whisper of an “i sure don’t.”
you were about to reply and perhaps mention how you’d be okay with her falling asleep in your arms, that you could tolerate such juvenile behaviour. you know, in the name of public health and safety, but bev beats you to it.
“just let me warm up here for ten minutes, alright. then you can let go and i’ll sleep on my side right after,” she rushes out.
that wasn’t how you thought it was going to know. your heart sinks slightly at her words but you try not to take it personally. what else could you do? it was almost like a wake-up call, reminding the both of you that this wasn’t normal for you and bev. 
after a minute or so, you found yourself absentmindedly weaving your fingers through bev’s auburn hair, gently combing it with your hands like you did earlier with stan. “you have such soft hair,” you whisper against her hair. 
you hear her mumble against the blanket indistinguishably and you find yourself closing your eyes at the vibrations of her voice against you. if only bev wanted to stay here like this and this feeling between the two of you could last more than the next ten minutes. you let your eyelids drift down momentarily, and you smile at the thought.
just a couple minutes later, your mind jolts back awake, and your heart sinks at the thought of having to wake her up so she could move to her side of the sofa and sleep. you reach over to feel the ends of her hair between your fingers again, grounding yourself to this feeling one last time before bev had to wake up. once you peel your eyes open however, you immediately shut them against the bright light shining at you. was richie planning on abducting y’all in the middle of the night again? gently prying your eyes open for the second time, you notice the light is shining from the window. you sigh in relief.
wait. the window? 
your eyes shoot open fully. the hail had stopped. and it’s day time. 
snapping your head down to bev, you take in her figure still fit snugly into your side. her free arm rests across your chest, her legs were entwined with yours. ...and her electric blue eyes stare right into you. your heart instantly jumps into your throat as you scramble for excuses, fuck, anything that would keep you from explaining yourself.
instead, she shifts her body upwards so she’s fit even tighter against your side,  placing her face into the crook of your neck. her lips were right at your pulse point, sending your mind spiralling at the thought that she could probably feel how fast your heart was beating right now. her lips move against your skin, saying something barely above a whisper.
“you tell anyone about this and i’ll fucking end you.”
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yazthebookish · 3 years
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Azriel’s POV ~
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Hello everyone,
First, I want to say thank you for your kind replies in my last post, I’m so grateful since it was a pain to write such a long analysis haha.
I wanted to write another post again as a way to release all the thoughts in my head because something still doesn’t sit well with me about Azriel’s POV and I’ve been involved in some long discussions in the ACOSF spoiler group on Facebook and many people addressed some good points.
You do not have to agree with me, this is not to invalidate your points, I am just writing down what I kept on analyzing from Az’s chapter so here goes.
-----
It’s important to take into consideration a few points:
- Azriel’s chapter takes place one year exactly after ACOFAS.
- During ACOSAF, Elain was not over the loss of her former fiancee here is conversation between her and Feyre: “He cares for you.” - “He doesn’t know me.” Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.” She wanted a human man.
- Does that negate the fact that Elain and Azriel developed feelings for each other in a course of a year? no. But this is just to clarify the point that from my opinion, the feelings between Azriel and Elain were not something existed since the moment they met, both of them were interested in other people at the time. Yes, Az was kind and courteous towards Elain from the very beginning but I do not believe he got over Mor the moment he met Elain. It wasn’t something ongoing for two years, maybe just recently.
- Azriel never got closure. Mor is planning to speak about her true feelings someday when she is ready and she and him did not sort out their feelings together. I do not think SJM will brush this under the rug and leave it unresolved. Azriel and Mor will need to have that conversation and for Azriel to realize Mor did not reciprocate her feelings because she found him unworthy as he assumes and it will be a big part of his healing.
- In ACOWAR, Elain invites Lucien to come to Velaris. There is no proof that Elain had formally rejected the bond. Lucien still visits them in Velaris to see her, if she no longer wanted him around then Rhys and Feyre wouldn’t let Lucien stay with her under one roof. Yes she avoids him, does not bring him gifts, ignored his existence but did not reject their bond and asked him to leave her. Here is what SJM said in her own words a few years ago when she changed her mind about making Lucien Nesta’s mate and deciding for Elain: “And I realized that Elain was kinda the person both Lucien AND I didn’t see coming---and without getting too spoilery, there was actually a great deal of tension, growth, and healing to be found for both of them (together).” Azriel can’t speak for Elain about not wanting Lucien even if its obvious, did she reject the mating bond formally or asked her family to prevent Lucien from coming over? no.
- We know now that Azriel and Elain did not have any romantic interactions other than exchanged looks and the occasional brush of their fingers. Do we get a hint of them knowing each other better? growing closer? there is only the attraction that draws them to one another but they do not know each other properly, I don’t see Elain bringing up a different side to Azriel. Elain appreciates Azriel’s fondness of her but can she truly embrace his whole darkness? 
- These two are wounded by their former love interests. Mor who had not reciprocated Az’s feelings and Elain whose fiance broke off their engagement and no longer wants her. Isn’t it plausible that their attraction for one another stems from the fact that they want a distraction? We did not see Elain overcome her grief nor did we see Azriel get over Mor. Those two did not get a chance to properly heal.
- Biggest red flag is the fact that Azriel did not answer Rhysand’s question concerning Mor. He ignored it. He chose to ignore a question rather than answer with “I no longer have feelings for her”, “I’m over her”, “I have feelings for another”. 
- There isn’t an issue with Azriel having sexual thoughts about Elain, but it is problematic if you see it within the context. Azriel’s feelings for Elain may have come from the belief that she is the safest option for him in terms of romance. He sees this equation of (Illyrian male + Archeron sister = eternal love and happiness). When you see Rhysand or Cassian thinking of their love interests in a sexual way but you note that there are other traits that they mention so its a mixture of love, admiration and lust. With Azriel, all we are seeing are his desire to have her in a sexual way despite his feelings. He does not express anything sentimental, for example: Nesta’s fierce expression almost brought Cassian to his knees while Azriel almost fell to his knees when he smelled Elain’s arousal. His fantasies of her were sexual, not his thoughts about her smile for example or her beauty. Azriel thinks he is entitled to her because his brothers ended up with her sister so surely the Cauldron is wrong and she is actually meant for him.
- In ACOSF, Elain has been associated with spring two times (visit to spring court and the painting on the drawer) and how out of place Cassian notes she is in the Night Court and in black. I read all of SJM’s books and I know when SJM puts emphasis on something it means something significant. Elain thrives in the spring where there is light, Azriel thrives in the dark among his shadows. His shadows are a big part of his identity and they fade around Elain, some may take it as a good sign but I don’t for one good reason: Azriel holds back his darkness around Elain because she might not be able to embrace it wholly, and let’s be honest Elain did not see this side of Azriel, he is showing her his best side.
- Rhys won’t allow Azriel to use Elain to get over Mor since Azriel did not explicitly mention he has feelings for Elain nor did he mention that he was over Mor. Naturally, this would infuriate Rhys since he is looking out for his mate’s sister and his sister-in-law. If both Azriel and Elain are using each other to get over someone, they’ll both hurt each other in the end. Or even Elain using it as a way to make sure she proves to everyone she has no interest in her mate.
- Azriel’s POV shows his desperation for love. He is desperate for affection. He is desperate to have what his brothers have and believing or having feelings for Elain for these reasons is by itself a big issue. 
- Another alarming line in his POV was: “So you’ll what?” Rhys’s voice was pure ice. “Seduce her away from him?” --- Azriel said nothing. He hadn’t gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to. Isn’t this another red flag? that this is a sign he desires her sexually? does he even know Elain beyond their attraction for one another? I understand that it’s okay to have sexual thoughts about someone you are attracted to, but surely there is more to desire about a person.
- Why did SJM give Gwyn her own spotlight in his chapter? for three books, we do not see Elain bring out a more interesting side to Azriel. Gwyn, on the other hand, teases him, asks him questions, challenges him, and he is unsettled he feels at peace around her. We know now he sings because of her. His shadows reactions to her are very telling (dancing, singing, curious), Gwyn even smiles at his shadows. For me, she gave Gwyn and Azriel more chemistry in one book than she did with Elain and Azriel in three books. Also, the fact that there is the possibility that Gwyn might actually have feelings for Azriel.
- SJM doesn’t throw her words around randomly, especially with repeating the whole “A thing of secret, lovely beauty” in the same chapter. First time was when Azriel describes the rose charm on the unremarkable necklace and the second time when he imagined Gwyn’s smile. Who used to wear a bracelet and puts little charms on it for wishes? Gwyn, so I can see her putting the rose charm on her bracelet. And Gwyn actually picks three colors for her braided bracelet: White (her name), Teal (her eyes), Blue (for who?), and we know that each Valkyrie chose symbolic colors associated with themselves. Again, I do not believe SJM would use Gwyn as a plot-device to push Elain and Azriel together and discard her and leave her hurting. Not when she already went through a traumatic past and she is a SA survivor. 
- When Azriel thinks of touching Elain he immediately thinks of his tainted hands and what terrible things he did. I believe with Gwyn he might overcome this belief.. why? Gwyn saw him slaughter all of her assaulters, she saw his viciousness and the blood coating his hands. Gwyn would not repulse from his hands because those are the very hands that saved her. He would realize that his hands saved the beautiful soul and courageous female that is Gwyn.
- Gwyn is the embodiment of Light. Her name means happiness, blessing, white, fair. She glows when she sings. 
From my opinion, I think Azriel’s chapter can have a million interpretation, I think I’m one of the few that actually liked Az’s chapter because it brought a different side to him. He isn’t the dark cinnamon roll everyone assumes him to be. He has deep wounds and a hollowness that we’ve yet to see and that what will make his healing journey so impactful. We are not supposed to see Azriel in his best version, we know he had a traumatic life and he still needs to heal.
I look forward to what you guys think of these points 😊 
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leandra-winchester · 3 years
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I’ve been sitting on this for a while because it’s an controversial topic, but I really need to get this out. I’m not sure I can sway anyone’s opinion here - after all, there are always multiple readings of fictional characters that are valid in their own way - but for what it’s worth. 
Ana has, since 3x12 - Fools, gotten a lot of hate for being ableist. While I have read people’s interpretations and explanations on how what she said was understood as ableist by them, I have a different interpretation of the scene. I will explain in detail how I read the exchange that is most criticised. But first, the words themselves. 
Eddie: I wanted to apologize for the other day. I was out of line and you didn't deserve that. Ana: You had every right to be upset. It's my job to look after your son and I failed to do that. I'm just relieved Christopher is okay. Eddie: Yeah, I fight so hard to try and protect him, I forget falling down is a part of life. Ana: It's supposed to teach us how to get back up, right? Eddie: Yes. Ana: There's a lot to be said for getting back on the horse, but there's also some value in learning that you don't like horses. Eddie: I'm sorry? Ana: Sometimes, our limitations tell us when to stop. But sometimes, they can show us where to look next. Today, he falls off the skateboard. But tomorrow, he writes the great American novel. Eddie: I know you said he was doing good in class, but... ( Laughs ) Ana: Okay, maybe not tomorrow, but... Eddie: Someday. Ana: Yeah.
Looking at this exchange isolated from the rest: 
Eddie is the one who brings up “falling”, and he says it is part of life. He speaks in a general sense. 
Ana then picks up on that and continues. This is a conversation between her and Eddie, her obviously trying to help Eddie feel better. This is not aimed at Christopher, and we cannot know what she may have said to Chris. 
Ana offers an alternative here, basically saying: ‘When you fall down it sucks, but it doesn’t always have to.’ 
She says “our limitations”, making it a general statement that is true for everyone, disabled or not. And it sounds like she also speaks from personal experience.
I always found her words to be a little bit naively feel-good. Something you read on an inspirational quotes blog with a cute background picture - a bit too ‘poetic’ in their wording, maybe a tad cringe if you, like me, are not a fan of those things. But she does speak in a general sense that includes everyone and everything. She expresses what she has probably learned in her studies as an educator, and very possibly also simply through life. 
Particularly children are very often set on wanting to do things their peers do, but not everyone has the same talents (something Eddie earlier in the episode explained to Chris - dialogue quoted below) - even if we’re only speaking about able-bodied children (or adults) now. It is important to teach children to accept team members even when they’re not as strong a - say - baseball player as others, but it’s also a good idea to offer alternatives before children start torturing themselves with something they’re not good at, don’t even really enjoy doing, just because they want to be included. It’s a fine line to see what each child needs in each individual case (encouragement to keep going or an alternative direction). 
Of course, it would be ableist (but not always incorrect, and sometimes necessary for safety reasons) to approach a child with physical limitations immediately with the latter option, saying “Honey, this isn’t something you can do, try something else instead.”
I think this is what people are reading into that exchange, and I absolutely agree that this would have been bad for Chris. However, we never saw her have an exchange with Christopher. We absolutely do not know how she approaches such instances in her daily work. But the fact that she works as a teacher at an inclusive school and had formal training for this makes me at least assume that she wouldn’t, and that she would - as long as things were safe and approved by the school’s curriculum - be encouraging.
What people are, imho, forgetting here is that this was a skateboard a kid brought to school even though it’s not allowed/daily practice. “We didn't know one of the kids had brought a skateboard.”  As I said, this is an inclusive school, and they probably have a well thought-out curriculum of physical activities that are suitable for all children to be done safely together. (which is implied in Ana’s next line, because if kids didn’t know there are things some kids shouldn’t do, that means they aren’t taught to view limitations in their class mates.)
The exchange continues: 
Eddie: You didn't know? He could've broken his neck.  Ana: I know, and I feel terrible. The other kids were showing him how to ride it and they didn't know that...[*] Eddie: Didn't they? No, let's push the kid with CP around on a skateboard for fun. You let them make a fool out of my son.
[*kids we CP shouldn’t do what they do, because that’s not what we teach them here, generally - my reading]
I’m frankly quite surprised why everyone latches onto what Ana said but doesn’t bat an eye at what Eddie said. He’s the one who immediately points out that Chris could never have ridden a skateboard in the first place. Which, knowing his son better than anyone, he’s of course right about, even though it’s a painful truth for all of them at the moment. And I’m definitely not saying Eddie is ableist, but he immediately assumes the worst here, assumes that, instead of this being an accident and misunderstanding, kids did this to Chris to make a fool out of him because he has CP. Isn’t that exactly what (unintentional and non-malicious but ultimately) ableist thoughts entail? ‘My kid has a disability, ergo other kids intentionally bully him’.
Eddie then has a conversation with Carla about the situation, and both of them talk about Chris’ limitations. 
Carla: [...] I think you should talk to him about how he got hurt. I know Christopher wants to be like all the other kids, but...  Eddie: You want me to tell him he's different?  Carla: He already knows that. You need to teach him what it means. That he has limitations.  Eddie: I'm not gonna tell my kid that.
What Carla says here is a) a similar choice of words as Ana - “teach” vs. “learning” and b) the same implication, that there are things Chris can’t do because of those limitations. 
Eddie already knows this; he has strongly implied it in the last quoted exchange because his mind immediately jumped to the conclusion that Chris could never have ridden the skateboard. But hearing it like this now, with some distance to the event and having cooled off, it’s not something he wants to accept. And maybe even feels guilty for thinking it in the first place. And guilty for not telling Chris the truth. 
Chris IS angry at his dad for “lying” to him, for always telling him he “can do anything”.
When they talk again, we get this: 
Eddie: I know I told you you can do anything, and that was a dumb thing for me to say. 
Christopher: Because I have CP. 
Eddie: No. Because... Nobody can do everything. And yes, there are things in life that you're not gonna be able to do. And there's other stuff that you are gonna be able to do, but it's gonna be a lot harder than it is for the other kids because you have CP. 
Christopher: I'm sorry. I won't skateboard again. 
Eddie: It's not about the skateboarding. I just don't want you to be scared. You tried something, and it didn't work out. Maybe the next time it does.
I want to point out:
“there are things in life that you're not gonna be able to do. And there's other stuff that you are gonna be able to do / You tried something, and it didn't work out. Maybe the next time it does.” 
& Ana’s “Sometimes, our limitations tell us when to stop. But sometimes, they can show us where to look next.” 
This is the exact same thing, just worded differently, but even with an overlap in word choice. The writer of that script obviously did that on purpose, and I believe that purpose was to show a) that Ana understands exactly what Eddie struggled with and b) reinforce what Eddie told Christopher, mainly for the purpose that Eddie gets the same perspective from Carla and from Ana and doesn’t have to feel so bad about thinking/saying the same thing. 
Ana and her words are an instrument to ease Eddie’s guilt and regret. In fact, I would even say Ana’s approach is more positive than Carla’s (or even Eddie’s), yet she is the one who gets all the criticism, and it frankly baffles me a little. It doesn’t baffle me so much that people assume or read potential ableism (on a very low, not reflecting on learned concepts way but ultimately without any malice) into it, but that they then don’t point out the same thing in Carla and Eddie. 
All three adults obviously adore Christopher, feel responsible for him and want what’s best for him. So even if some of their thought patterns and conclusions, or word choices are rooted in learned ableist beliefs and patterns (in all three of them), none of it is done out of deliberate ignorance or even malice. 
The thing is, if Ana were a real person, one could ask her how she meant what she said. One could have a conversation with her and see whether there really are any underlying ableist beliefs she has and didn’t realise. Seeing how Ana is generally portrayed, I’m very sure such a conversation would go well with her wanting to learn and understand. But we can’t do this since she’s not a real person. We can only speculate what she really meant, how she approaches kids with disabilities in similar situations.  
She’s a fictional character, written by a real person, who very likely did not put as much thought into all the background info and potential implications as people in fandom do - simply because that would go way beyond their time capacities as TV writers. This was written in parallels between all three adults, to shape Eddie’s struggle as a parent and ultimately resolve it. 
And then, of course, we get Buck who thinks differently than ALL THREE of them, because his mind just works like that. 
Eddie, Carla and Ana see a problem and draw a logical conclusion, trying to make light of it as best they can. 
Buck sees a problem and immediately jumps to alternative solutions. 
I have read people say that Ana, as an educator, should be able to do that. But Ana is responsible for many children, has a curriculum to teach, and it’s simply not her job to think of alternative solutions for things that aren’t even part of the school day. Furthermore, if she had been able to think of such a creative, out of the box solution as Buck, then Buck would not have been special any longer. 
It’s one of the purposes of this conflict to show a) how much Buck cares about Christopher and how integral he is to Eddie and Christopher’s lives and b) how special Buck is for thinking of things nobody else would have. Not even Eddie himself. 
This turned out a whole lot longer than I intended. 
I hope I could get my interpretation across. 
To sum up, I believe what Ana said was in no way ‘worse’ than what Eddie and Carla said (in fact, Carla was most painfully honest and least solution-offering). All adults involved mean well and care about Chris. And Buck is the grand exception who comes up with stuff nobody else would have, ingraining him deeper as an integral part of the Diaz family. 
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Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 2
Oils
Cult girl socializes at the opera and receives an unexpected call. 
Note: I tagged this as “anti mlm” as in multi-level marketing and not men-loving-men. 
Trigger warnings: Discussions of cults and emotional manipulation
It wasn't until after the opera was over that people began to notice you may have had a little fun during intermission. Hannibal's hair wasn't in its usual perfect side part and his jacket was slightly wrinkled in places. You could cover most of his love bites with your stole, but nothing could hide that post-orgasm glow.
Most opera-goers stayed to socialize for hours after the show concluded, making an already long night even longer. It was like clubbing, but for rich old people.
"So you're the future Mrs. Hannibal Lecter?" A woman with silvery hair said. She dragged her husband into the conversation by the arm. "I've heard so much about you."
You were about to say something witty, but noticed the way she was looking at you. Scanning you up and down. Looking for anything out of place to grill you about.
"Only good things, I hope." Hannibal said in your silence. His voice was vaguely threatening. "She is a doctoral student, in her second year of her graduate studies in clinical psychology."
The husband, who, up to this point, hadn't spoken a word, perked up. "Is that right?"
You smiled, excited for the chance to talk about your passion. "Yes sir. I've still got quite a ways to go, but I love my work."
"You should be proud." The man praised, looking at Hannibal. "You've got yourself an ambitious wife."
"Oh, we're not married yet." You corrected.
"So when can we expect an invitation?" The woman asked.
"Six months from now, isn't it?" Hannibal answered. "Memorial day weekend. Then I'm taking her to Italy for a lengthy honeymoon."
The woman threw her head back and sighed. "That sounds heavenly."
"You young modern girls are always so intuitive." The man commented. "I'll bet you tricked him into marrying you."
You wanted to call this guy out for his sexist bullshit, but he wasn't far off. It was Hannibal who tricked you, though.
Technically, he proposed to you within the first six months. You just didn't know it. It took until shockingly recently to find out.
It was during a ballroom dancing lesson of all places. You were sweaty, but loved the feeling of your lover's hands gently guiding your movements. You stepped away from the lesson to get some water, and innocently asked when he would propose to you.
"I believe I already did." He said with enough conviction to blur the lines of seriousness and sarcasm.
"You pretended to." You corrected. "Remember? We were just pretending to be engaged for Anna's wedding."
"But it didn't end after the wedding, did it?" He observed. "You kept calling me your fiancé long after that weekend passed."
You paused, then threw your head back in exasperation. "Oh my god, Hannibal."
Hannibal laughed. "I told you. Someday it won't be a lie."
"You're a piece of shit, you know that?" You pressed your fingers to your temples. "So we've been engaged this whole time?"
"What can I say?" He said, gently. "I knew you were my one and only even then. It was just a matter of circumventing your inhibitions."
"I'm not complaining." You folded your arms. "But a little notice would have been nice."
"Well, if you insist." He laced his fingers between his own. "[F/N] [L/N]. Will you be my wife?"
Even though the question was truly just a formality, you were still as giddy as a schoolgirl to hear those words.
"Yes, Hannibal Lecter." You said, cheeks stinging from smiling so hard. "I will marry you."
Then you just went back to the dance lesson like nothing happened. It was shockingly in-character for both of you.
"No." You shook your head. "We killed someone together and took a blood oath to never separate."
The couple laughed. Hannibal looked down at you with pride.
“So [F/N].” The man said. “Have you given any thought to your doctoral dissertation?” 
“Oh, Charles.” The woman rolled her eyes. “I’m sure she didn’t come here to be grilled about her studies.” 
“No, it’s okay.” You smiled. As long as you were talking about school, you weren’t being interrogated about the thirty-year age gap between you and Hannibal. “I have been thinking about my dissertation. There are plenty of fascinating topics to choose from, but I can’t not write it about, well, the reason I began to study psychology in the first place.” 
“And that is?” The man raised an eyebrow.
“Cults.” You said, grinning ear to ear. “Understanding them, their leaders, their followers, why people join them. How they evolve and grow more insidious as time passes. What form they’re starting to take in the digital age.” 
“That is interesting.” The woman’s voice rose, connoting genuine engagement. “And what form are they taking in the digital age?” 
You looked up at Hannibal, as if to ask for permission. Permission to rip into her and burn that bridge for good. He answered in the affirmative. 
“Ma’am, could I take a look at your bracelet?” You asked, already knowing exactly what she would say. 
Her face lit up. “Oh, do you like it?”
She pulled it off her wrist and handed it to you. You brought it to your nose and took a whiff, confirming your theory. Then you handed it off to Hannibal, whose sense of smell was much more refined. He took one breath, then recoiled. 
Hannibal covered his mouth and nose with his hand and coughed. “That is... quite strong, Mrs. DeMarco.” 
“It’s Affirm, by doTERRA.” She revealed, her voice growing defensive. “It helps you ground yourself and remember your worth.” 
You handed the bracelet back to her. “Do you sell doTERRA, Mrs. DeMarco?” 
“Well, now that you mention it...” A small smile appeared on her lips. “Why? Would you like to buy some?” 
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, ma’am, but...” You lied. “You’re actually in a cult.” 
She had nothing to say to that. She just stared at you with her mouth agape, urging you to explain yourself. 
“Multilevel marketing companies employ a host of cult manipulation tactics to con people out of their savings.” You explained. “Just because the promise is financial independence instead of a spot in paradise, doesn’t mean it’s not a lie. Research conducted by the Federal Trade Commission shows that the vast majority of participants actually lose money. The statistics are just a google search away, yet thousands of people still insist on the legitimacy of the companies they sell for.” 
“Well, I-” She protested, but couldn’t find the words to defend herself. “I’m there for the community, really. For the first time in years, I have a sisterhood of like-minded women who love me!” 
You smiled through a cringe. “That’s another pretty common cult manipulation tactic. They appropriate familial language to make people feel more connected to the group than they really should be.” 
Although you didn’t expect her to, she looked to be genuinely considering it. 
“Next time you see your ‘sisters’,” You began. “Pay attention to how they talk about people who are not in the group. Or, better yet, tell them that you’re considering leaving. You’ll see how conditional their love is.” 
An awkward, deafening silence followed. The woman looked at her husband, as if willing him to do something. To stand up to the evil twenty-something grad student who had the audacity to cite her sources. 
Instead, the husband just burst out in riotous laughter. 
“Miriam!” He nearly shouted, heaving like he was about to collapse. “I told you that oil business was up to no good! No honest company makes their employees pay to work!” 
The woman’s face turned red. You almost felt bad for her. The feeling vanished when the man put his hand on your shoulder. 
“Seriously, Dr. Lecter, you’d better keep this one.” He said, wiping a tear from his eye. “She’s an absolute godsend.” 
“No divine intervention was involved whatsoever, Dr. DeMarco.” Hannibal smiled to himself and brought a glass of champagne to his lips. “She is a woman of her own making."
"Oh, we all know that's not entirely true." The woman snapped, slipping into passive-aggression. She glanced at Hannibal. "How much are you spending on this mouthy little know-it-all? Isn't it about $80k a year?"
You, of course, brought this on yourself. You threw down the gauntlet by going after this girlboss's side hustle, so now nothing was off-limits.
"I wouldn't worry about that, Mrs. DeMarco." Hannibal said, calmly. "My soon-to-be wife's education is a much better investment than that overpriced napalm you wear on your wrist."
You couldn't help but laugh at that. It was a laugh you shared with the man. Hannibal looked down at you, admiring how your face lit up.
"You'll forgive my wife's rudeness." The man requested. "Please, Ms. [F/N], tell me more about your dissertation."
"Well," you laced your fingers together. "I'm planning to write my dissertation on the cult of academic elitism."
"I would tread lightly, dear." The woman warned, eyes darting to Hannibal. "You wouldn't want to bite the hand that feeds you."
You adjusted your stole, giving them a quick glance at the love bites along your neck.
"I assure you." You said. "He quite likes it when I bite."
Your clutch started to aggressively, audibly vibrate. You could have sworn you'd put your phone on silent, but it buzzed nonetheless.
"Probably just, y'know-" you stuttered, embarrassed. "An amber alert or something."
"We are expecting a snowstorm, I believe. I was warned of it a few minutes ago." Hannibal said, always ready to cover your ass whenever needed. The couple nodded along in understanding.
You pulled your phone from your clutch. Your eyes widened and your face turned sickly pale at the sight of a caller you thought you’d never hear from again. Without thinking, you slid the deny icon across the screen. 
“Right.” You said, tucking your phone and your secrets back into the clutch. “Winter Storm... Theresa is headed this way.” 
Hannibal cleared his throat. “In that case, [F/N] and I must take our leave before we get snowed in. It was very nice catching up with you. I will see to it that [F/N] and I have you for dinner very soon.” 
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nikosheba · 3 years
Note
... autocorrect hits again! It was BOROMIR, not brownie. I was referring to the discussion about his character you had with absyhte.
Hello again!! Is it Boromir-loving hours? Yes, it’s Boromir-loving hours.
I have. A LOT of thoughts about him. I’m writing a Boromir/Théodred fic now, because when I have thoughts I express them through smutty fanfiction, which I think is very cool of me. 
After uh, several hours of conversation with @absynthe--minded, I’ve come to some conclusions that I cannot shake, and don’t want to, because they really inform my perception of him as a character. This is probably going to be out of order, but, uh, well, this isn’t school and you’re not getting a formal essay out of me.
Boromir in Fellowship has been watching his father fall--but not in the way he thinks. He’s 41 years old; he’s watched his father govern his entire life. But only recently does he see the way his father governs change. He has no way of knowing that his father has a Palantir, or that he could be corrupted through it, even if only corrupted to a lack of hope. (By the way, that’s the corruption of Denethor I see most plainly--not an erosion of his morals, but an erosion of his hope. Lack of Estel, I’ve seen some people say, though not expressly about him.) So Boromir has been fighting on the front lines of Gondor since he was a teen, and has recently, without much external change that he can see, watched his father go from being Morgoth’s Mightiest Foe, seeing his father basically as a Fingolfin-sort of figure, waging a constant, unending stalemate with Mordor, to his father suddenly acting as if they’re post-Bragollach. I can’t imagine the terror, the anxiety, the despair that would inspire, to see someone you’ve looked up to as a rock against The Enemy your whole life, your leader, your inspiration, suddenly start behaving as if it’s only a matter of time until you all lose everything you’ve fought tooth and nail for.
Boromir thinks his father is essentially always right--and chooses to follow Aragorn anyway. This is a bit more headcanon, but has to do with Boromir’s acceptance of Aragorn. So, I think deep down, Boromir knows that Denethor II isn’t going to want to give up Stewardship. Also on the surface. Because of all the times he’s basically said, you know, the Dunedain have left us to defend alone, no one helps us, we’re the Only Thing standing between Mordor and Total Devastation of the world. That’s very much Denethor II’s identity, at this point. If Boromir had showed up with the Rohirrim at his back ready to assist as allies, Denethor II would probably have been weird about it, because in his mind, he’s the only thing keeping Sauron at bay. And Boromir still swears to Aragorn with his last breath. Even in the books, where he tells Aragorn, “Save my people,” he’s commending the soul of Gondor--its people--to Aragorn, rather than saying something like “Help my Father,” or even “Destroy Sauron,” etc. With his final breath, he chooses to trust, which is huge, given that in my perception...
Denethor II doesn’t want Boromir to be a big thinker. Again, this is headcanon, but I think it’s borne out. Boromir is noted as being unfond of learning, romance, etc, preferring “arms and warfare” to all of this. While I think a good portion of that is natural inclination, I also think Denethor II sees him that way, and encourages it. He doesn’t want another son to question what he does, he wants his son to be a faithful lieutenant and follow orders without wondering whether they’re right or wrong. Boromir isn’t known for creativity and decision-making, he’s known for being told what the simplest situation is and achieving it at whatever the cost. I’m not calling him stupid here, but he’s not clever, either. He’s not crafty or innovative. He’s a weapon in his father’s hands, and his father likes that, because deep down, Denethor II knows Faramir is a lot more like him, and that’s why they butt heads. He treats Faramir more like an heir--constantly evaluated, challenged, found wanting, because he’s supposed to replace him someday, whereas he treats Boromir as an extension of himself, his Longer Arm.
“I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”
Faramir loves not the sword for its sharpness, the arrow for its swiftness, the warrior for his glory. Denethor II does love the sword for its sharpness, loves the arrow for its swiftness, the warrior for his glory. Boromir is the sword loved for its sharpness, the arrow loved for its swiftness, the warrior loved for his glory.
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woogyu · 3 years
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46.“Somehow, i always seem to end up here. With you.” | “Soulmate shit, it’s hardcore as hell.”
»»————- ♡ ————-««
requested by; @carat4boo​
notes; so it’s 3 am, can’t sleep, and I couldn’t stop thinking about this request SO HERE IT IS. I LITERALLY ALMOST CRIED WRITING THIS, BUT IN A GOOD WAY I THINK.
possible tw; mentions of strict parents, lovers angst
wc; 1346
Drabble Game Requests | OPEN (but VERY VERY slow 24 requests in my inbox rn) | Drabble Prompts; fluff | angst | funny
»»————- ♡ ————-««
1800s, London, England
As a princess your value came from your marriage. It was never about you, it was about the match your father could arrange. Your desires were not taken into account, and you knew this. That’s why you took care when visiting him, if someone found out you would be punished and he would be hung. Your exchanges were brief and framed under the cover of darkness. He was the secret you never dared breath and the light illuminating your suffocating world.
“Princess” a familiar voice greeted you from the shadows of a sunken window. You turned quickly toward the sound, a smile breaking onto your features as Seungkwan flooded your vision. He was a simple stable hand, nothing flashy and certainly not suitable in your family's eyes. The two of you never should have happened and yet everyday you found yourself falling further and further in love.
“I’ve told you many times to dismiss the formalities” you reminded him, moving to sit with him on a small bench tucked along the wall. Your fingers nervously smoothed along the front of your gown, always anxious that someone would discover you.
“My father intends to marry me off to some nobleman. He has been conversing with many families to find the most advantageous match” you grumbled a little bit, allowing Seungkwna to draw you in against his side. Even outwardly displays of affection such as this were foreign to you. They caused your heart to hammer unevenly against your ribcage.
“I would have to leave the palace… which would mean leaving you” a sigh fell from your lips as you looked up at him, brows drawn together in concern. He reached up and smoothed away your wrinkles, his lips curling up into a gentle smile. He regarded you with such softness that it made you wonder what exactly he saw in you.
“A gift” he interrupted your concerns, reaching behind him to pull out a striking red rose. He handed it to you and slowly ran his fingers over the petals. Leaning in so that his face was near yours, he began to repeat the same words he did every time you raised these concerns.
“My love, circumstances may separate us but the universe will always draw us back together. There is nothing that can keep me from you. Maybe it won’t be in this life, or even in the next, but someday. We are destined” he told you with such certainty that you had a hard time not believing his words. Maybe you wouldn’t be unable to find happiness with him in this timeline, but you trusted his assurance that someday it would come.
“I’ll love you through this lifetime and every one that follows” you promised him in a hushed whisper as his forehead pressed into yours.
“As will I” he assured you, his fingers rubbing soothingly against your knuckles.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
1960s, New York, New York
“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, you will NOT marry that boy y/n” your mother promised, locking the door to your bedroom as you threw yourself onto your bed.
Just because Seungkwan had gotten into some trouble, your parents thought he was some bad influence that would corrupt your innocence. They never listened when you explained that you had never felt so loved, so cared for in your entire life. 
“Psst, heard a little lady needed a jailbreak” Seungkwan whispered outside your window, winking when you looked up startled. Grinning you moved toward the window, watching as he silently picked the lock.
“My dad threatened to kill you if you ever showed up here again” you reminded him, rolling your eyes at the care free lopsided grin that overtook his features. The lock was opened within seconds and you were pulled into a breathtaking kiss.
“I guess you’re just worth the risk” he spoke after pulling away, his voice breathy and disheveled. Taking his hand you followed him out the window and down the side of the house.
“y/n, if that’s you sneaking out again I’m calling the cops on the both of you” you heard your mom yell from inside, causing a giggle to bubble up inside you.
“Guess that’s our cue to run” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him onto the sidewalk. The two of you raced to a nearby park, laughing as you slowed down to catch your breath.
“You’re crazy” you told Seungkwan, he was risking so much just by showing up at your place. He would get jail time if your mom’s threat had any truth to it.
“Crazy for you” he responded with a grin, twirling you around as you walked through the rows of flowers. Giggling you reached up to stroke your hand along his cheek.
“For you, my lady” he announced dramatically, bowing as he held a freshly picked rose out to you. Smiling, you reached out and accepted the flower, twirling it around in your fingers. This felt too familiar and it was nagging at your brain.
“Somehow, I always seem to end up here. With you” you commented, eyes focused on the flower grasped in your hand. You couldn’t shake the familiarity of this, of him and external forces that kept you apart. You wanted nothing more than to run away and marry Seungkwan and he graciously entertained your little breakouts. The two of you knew that whatever you had what limited to stolen moments. You couldn’t run away, and your family would never approve of him.
“Soulmate shit, it’s hardcore as hell” he answered cheekily, poking your shoulder as the two of you settled on a bench. His demeanour told you that he was attempting to lighten the mood, but you were having none of it.
“When do we get to be happy” you demanded, eyes stinging as tears threatened to overflow. A sadness settled over his features as he reached out to stroke your cheek.
“Darling, you’ve made me happy in every single life we’ve shared. Destiny has yet to write our love story” he gently cradled your cheek and pressed his lips to your forehead.
“I’m willing to wait a thousand lifetimes if it means I get to spend just one loving you” he breathed causing your heart to melt and tears to flow. Destiny was a bitch, but you could not change the flow of time, no matter how much you wished you could or how hard you tried.
“I’ll wait for you. However long it takes” you echoed his words, fingers tangled into his hair as if he would fade out of existence in front of your eyes.
»»————- ♡ ————-««
2018, Los Angeles, California
“You may now kiss the bride” you heard the voice call out, causing the entire room to erupt in cheers. You were not paying attention to any of that, your thoughts, your mind and your lips were all full of Seungkwan. You kissed him like your entire life had led up to this moment, and in a way it had. Multiple lifetimes lead you to where you are now, and while not all of them were pleasant, it was worth it for this. This lifetime with Seungkwan made up for everything. You finally understood why destiny took so long with your love story. Seungkwan pulled away and looked down at you like you had hung all the stars in the sky.
“I have loved you through thousands of lives, but in this one I promise that I will make you the happiest person in the entire world” he breathed, his thumb slowly drifting over your cheek. It had been lifetimes of waiting, but you would do it all over again to end up right back here, promising yourself to the only man you have ever truly loved.
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writer-akihiko · 3 years
Text
All For Her - Kennyo X Reader X Yandere!Nobunaga
ACTUAL ENDING, ALTERNATE ENDING
So this fic is in celebration of mah boi Kennyo getting his English route finally! @silhouette-of-a-dream​ thank you for your input. I hope this fic is a good kick to Nobunaga’s ego [please do not come after me nobunaga stans] 
I’m glad to be back and writing for asks. Thank you to all the IkeSen readers who liked my previous headcanons. Also, to the Nobunaga stans, please keep in mind this is a work of fiction and actual not-yandere Nobunaga would not do this. 
TW: Yandere, Implications of Emotional Abuse
"How would you like to rule the world by my side?"
Those words…
Those words were your death sentence.
~○~
There he stood, the great daimyo of Owari as you humbly sat next to him, the veil shielding your gaze from your surrounding and the gaze of others from you. It had always been like this. Nobunaga was a possessive man, and you being deemed as his 'lucky charm' was no means of him letting go.
Feeling the atmosphere weighing down on you, you tugged on Nobunaga's sleeve, muttering about your need to leave. Nobunaga was a proud man, and what else could he do then to carry you away bridal-style in front of all his allies and his vassals?
"I will take my bride to rest. Celebrate without me."
He ignored the protests of Hideyoshi and whisked you away to his bed. For being the Devil King of the Sixth Heaven, his touch was gentle. The words he'd say have that edge that raised the hairs of your neck, especially when he untangles your hair with his fingers.
"Just wait my lucky charm. The wars are about to end soon…" He said, undoing your obi. "Then there would be no one brave enough to take you away from me. They'd be foolish enough to try in the first place."
~○~
The next morning you woke up, you were sore in your lower region. And alone. Of course he left you. The love bites he left on your neck started to ache as you looked around the room. He must've had another war council… You shrugged it off, getting dressed with the remains of what your kimono was.
Before you could get up, a hustle of maids stormed in, in their arms were heaps of fabric and cosmetics.
"Lady YN, Lord Nobunaga wishes for you to dress for the evening," Your most loyal maid, Kinu, announced to you.
Of course, that's how it always was.
He'd let you wander around ever so freely in the morning, but it was all a trap. Whatever guards he sent out to follow you were to only escort anyone whose gaze lingered too far to be sent to the dungeon; no questions asked. It was the only form of freedom he ever gave you, but it benefitted him in his own twisted, cynical tyranny.
"Kinu, please give me my formal wear," You asked her politely. Kinu nodded, ordering the other maids to prepare for you to walk around town.
The maids had brought you a simple kimono for you to wear, although its fabric was far from cheap. As your maids adjusted your hood, Nobunaga's loyal right hand man, Hideyoshi Toyotomi, entered the tenshu by your permission.
"Does Lord Nobunaga need me Hideyoshi-san?" You addressed him. Hideyoshi sighed, unsure of your attitude at the moment. As much as he was happy for you and his lord, your change in personality made it all so strange. Was his lord not enough for you? Or was he too much? As much as he wanted to interrogate, Nobunaga was strict upon the rules about his future bride.
He shook his head. "Not in particular. He will be busy today and I overheard you were going out today," He said, fishing out a bag of coins from his kimono. "This is Masamune's payment from last week, YN. He's a bit busy wrangling with some pirates to repay you properly… You can use it to go shopping today if you'd like."
You accepted the coins graciously, not daring to life your head to meet Hideyoshi's eyes. For as much as Nobunaga had faith in his vassals, you didn't know what he'd do if he heard of your entanglement with another warlord friend of his. You were protecting them, you whispered to yourself.
After Hideyoshi left you, you wrote a note, leaving it with Kinu before you went out. You had to inform the other seamstresses of your absence for today. It wasn't truly unusual for you to be gone, but you had to be courteous towards them. Perhaps you could purchase some fabric for them in return…
Four guards trailed after you. They were a different batch this time; from their uniforms you could guess they were under Mitsunari's regime. You walked on, ignoring the chatter of those guards and simply looked over the goods the merchants of Azuchi had to offer. There wasn't much for you to see, having walked around town at least once a week for you to see the same goods here and there.
You however, did notice a small shrine, just right on the outskirts of Azuchi as you went to purchase your usual sweet buns. You turned to the guards behind you, repeating your request to them as they were dumfounded the first time you said it.
"I said, I would like to go to the temple there. I wish to offer my prayers," You said promptly, staring down the guards. "Unless I have to report to Nobunaga of your mistreatment of me."
Well, being his lover had its advantages.
The guards sweat dropped, knowing what awaited them if you snitched on them.  They gave a knowing look to each other. Surely it wouldn't be so bad for the lady to offer some prayers for the sake of Azuchi right?
You walked up the corroded steps of the temple, finally approaching its gates. What a pity, you thought to yourself, seeing as how the wells were empty and the bushes were unkempt. You wouldn't comment on such things out loud, but you'd love to clean up and return to the shrine someday… That is, if that war tyrant would let you.
You had noticed that there was no pail for you to offer your prayers to. Surely, there must be some in the storeroom in the shrine…
"Lady YN! Watch―"
Before you knew it, you had a sword to your neck. The cold steel made you shiver.
"Pure maiden, what are you doing here?"
Your usual instinct would make you cry out for help, but your pride won't even allow you to seek help from anyone associated with Nobunaga.
"I came to offer my prayers."
"This is not a functioning shrine," The man who had his blade towards you pressed the steel further, but he didn't cut you. Instead, he walked around you to see your face. The purple robes and that scar across his face was all the characteristics for you to realise that the man who held his staff to you was Kennyo, the monk you met in the forest.
His stare was cold, but his eyes widened, recognising you. He removed the staff from your neck, and commanded the disguised men that subdued your guards to tie them up.
He turned back to you, asking you of your identity. "You are the future bride of Oda and the woman that appeared in the fire?"
"Unfortunately yes."
"Then I shall have to apologise for kidnapping you at the― My apologies, 'Unfortunately'? Did I hear you right?" Kennyo asked, realising what your reply meant. Would this be beneficial? He had to admit, Nobunaga was a lucky man now that he took a good look at you but no regular woman of Azuchi could resist that demon's wiles.
Kennyo sent his men off, wanting to speak to you alone. You didn't seem like you would run away, but he still had to use you to carry out his plan. He was quite taken aback at your apathetic state. He was sure you would cause a fuss after your guards were taken down, but you were relatively calm at the moment by the  way you were just sitting at the edge of the shrine steps rather calmly. Mike also approached you and you started to coddle him quite affectionately. Kennyo felt oddly warm inside, unsure how he should tell you that he meant to kidnap you.
You got the monk's attention by calling out to him, "Kennyo-san, you were talking about kidnapping me?" You said, stroking the adorable calico cat in your arms.
"I apologise for that statement," Kennyo coughed, relieved you snapped him out of his trance. "I would have to use you to carry out my plan."
You smiled, finding his honesty quite charming. "Well, I guess I have nothing better to do," You said quite boldly. "Kennyo-san, let me make this clear. I am not assisting you because I believe in your cause. I only wish to get away from Nobunaga, so please, after my part is done, let me go."
"Eh? Nobunaga is that bad in bed that you left him?" Another man approached you two, and you heard Kennyo sigh beside you. The man must've been an ally of Kennyo…
"Motonari…"
"What? You surely took your sweet time with the lady," He said, teasing the fellow monk.
"Well," You said, unsure how to insert yourself in the conversation. "This means I will work with you, Kennyo-san, Motonari-san."
~○~
"Kennyo-san? You called for me?" You said, entering his room. You had moved to Kennyo's official base, as the shrine near Azuchi was for Kennyo to oversee his wounded brothers.
Kennyo tensed up at your voice. Why did he call you again? He was a monk for the lord's sake, not some cheeky soldier…
"About your release…" He began. 'I don't want you to go…' He wanted to say. He couldn't, drinking his tea to stop himself from saying such embarrassing things. You were Nobunaga's betrothed. More so, you deserved better, especially with what you had been through.
"What about it?" You said, pouring more tea into Kennyo's empty cup. "I assume my duties were fulfilled then?"
"Yes," he said. "Your knowledge of medicine saved some of my brothers as well. I have to compensate you for that. Please ask for anything you want."
Anything you wanted? Those words struck a chord in you. Those words were what Nobunaga told you the first night he claimed you as his future bride. You remembered what you asked for and Nobunaga as the skilful warlord he is, cut down your request of freedom too.
Then came Nobunaga giving anything and everything he could to ensure your happiness. The point where it frightened you was when he presented the dead body of a vassal of his underling who had wronged you. His blood-covered sword was more than enough proof that Nobunaga had done the deed himself, even as he professed he killed the man in front of his whole council.
"Lady YN? Did I say something wrong?"
Kennyo's warm hands reached out to you, brushing away the tears that ran down your cheek. On instinct, you nestled into his large hands, looking at the man who had saved you from your nightmare.
"Kennyo-san, what would you do if I said I wanted you?"
You made the holy monk blush, his hand immediately retracted from your face as he blurted out all the reasons you should retract those words, "I am not worthy of your attention, Lady YN. I am no longer a man and instead I shoulder the sins that a demon such as myself are willing to commit. You are certainly ill if you think you could love a demon."
You simply laughed at his boyish shyness. "Kennyo… I am not pure as you think I am," You said, patting his head. "I'm sorry I blanked out. When you asked me to request anything, it reminded me of something similar Nobunaga said to me…"
You then explained all the horror you went through at Azuchi from Nobunaga. "He may not have harmed me physically but I can't help but be scared…" You said, finally giving in to your tears. "It must be silly for you isn't it? A person such as me confessing at a time like this…"
"You poor girl…" Kennyo brought you into his arms, claiming his finally resolve. "I will fulfil your request, Lady YN. For I too, love you more than anything else."  
~○~
No matter how long you'd been in the Sengoku era, you still hated the cries of wars. You hated it, but not as much as the man who lead the Oda.
Seeing a young man in red return to camp, you immediately jumped at him. "Yukimura! Did you get any news of Kennyo?"
You were sent off to stay with the Takeda army as a form of alliance with Kennyo shortly after Kennyo's war preparations. Shingen and Yukimura had been hospitable to you, and you more than delighted to be reunited with your friend Sasuke from the Uesugi faction.
The Akazonae leader shook his head, almost regretting his words as he told you, "Some of my men said he finally confronted the Devil himself."
Amongst the bloodied war cries and the crumpled bodies of soldiers were two sworn enemies finally crossed blades.
"Your death will surely be my greatest victory," Nobunaga cried, swinging his sword at the monk. "The people would find it heroic how I rescued my bride from the Ikko Ikki's leader―"
"You defiled her!" Kennyo roared, unsheathing his staff. He blocked the rampant parries of the Devil King. "And you think that's love!"
"Of course," Nobunaga said smugly, dodging Kennyo's swing. "This war…
It's all for her."
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terry-perry · 3 years
Text
Heartache
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Ex!Reader
Warning: Angst revolving around breakups and unrequited love
A/N: I may have thought about Little Women once more when coming up with this. I just love that movie and book okay!
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1943
He had no real motive other than to survive while he served his country. And if he was being honest, if it hadn’t been for the draft, he’d be staying at home working at a factory alongside Steve. He didn’t like the idea of being away from those he loved; his best friend, his family. 
You.
“Can you promise me something?” Bucky piped up while walking you home. A good end to his last night in Brooklyn. 
You looked up at him, that warm smile still attached to your face. “What?”
The question was more of a formality than anything else. You hadn’t the heart to refuse him anything at that moment.
“Would you check on my ma and sister every now and again while I’m gone?”
“Of course, Jimmy. You know I will.”
“And make sure Steve stays out of trouble,”
“I’ll do my best,” you giggled.
He thanked you with a certain look that suddenly had you panicking on the inside. Perhaps there might be one thing you’d have to say no to. 
There’d been something in the air between you two for as long as you could remember. You’ve been best friends along with Steve for several years, but what you had with Bucky was a little something more that you’d rather consider one-sided, seeing as you already gave it a chance. But now you were hoping he wouldn’t be planning on doing something that’ll make you break his heart a second time.
With these fears coming to the surface, you slowly began to slip your arm away from his and awkwardly walked by his side.
“Y/N?”
Something in his tone made you stop in your tracks and look up in his face to find him looking down at you with a familiar and scary, lovestruck stare. One that got him appearing flushed and excited all at once. “I’ve been doing some thinking, and I think it’s about time we get ourselves hitched,”
“Jimmy...”
“I know we’re technically not together anymore, but you’ve been it for me for as long as I can remember. You’re so good to me, to Steve. Our families get along. I can’t imagine being with anyone else.”
“We talked about this,” you implored, needing to stand firm despite the fact you were getting quite emotional yourself. “I thought you understood why I couldn’t be with you. Please don’t make me do this again.”
With that, the light in his eyes dimmed. But he kept as much hope as he could to help with convincing you. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Y/N. I know your feelings aren’t as strong as mine, but I know they’re there. We can have a good life together. We can be happy.”
You sighed. A big part of you wondered how you could say such things to the fella that’s always been by your side. Especially as he looked at you full of love and longing, and his lashes were wet from tears your words had wrung out of him. But you knew it had to be done.
“I can’t,” you persisted, pausing for a second to push down a sob. “You’re right; I do love you. Just not like that. Believe me, I’ve tried to, but this isn’t something you can force. And this isn’t something either of us should settle for.” 
There was another audible quiver in your voice. Bucky stepped towards you then to take your hands in his. You accepted them, ironically it was what was needed to continue. “ You are so good to me, too good to me. You’re wasting your affections on the wrong girl.”
“No I’m not,” Bucky insisted back.
“Yes you are. You’re one of my best friends, but you’re also someone that’s too much like me. We’re both stubborn idiots. So stubborn we can’t even have a civil conversation about getting married. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life doing nothing but this?”
“Yes!”
“Christ! Can you just please try to be reasonable about this?”
“And can you just please stop overthinking this?” He begged, losing his patience. “I know you’re scared of giving this a shot, but this could be great if we tried hard enough. We’ve grown since the last time, and can go the distance if we really wanted to.”
“Well, I don’t want to. Because I don’t love you.”
Suddenly, time stopped as you spewed out those words. You didn’t mean to say that so abruptly, but it was what needed to be said as you were at your wit’s end. You just wish he didn’t then stare at you with such a wide-eyed look that showed off the tears that wanted to spill out.
“You don’t?”
You learned long ago and understood what you’d been feeling when you decided that you didn’t love him, and probably never will. It was very hard to come to terms with this fact, but you did it. And now you needed for him to realize that.
“I don’t,” you reaffirmed, needing to turn your head to not fully reveal your own tears. “I’ve done my best and gave it my all with you. But you don’t see that. You’d rather be unreasonable and see this as just me having personal issues. And maybe you’re right, maybe I have a fear of commitment deep down. But nothing is gonna be resolved if I’m constantly pushed. That’s why I don’t love you.”
You were the one to approach him this time as he dropped his head and sniffled. You got a hold of his limp hands and continued softly this time. “I’ll always care about you. But as a friend. My best friend. I just hope that someday you won’t see that as a bad thing.”
Bucky peered up at you for a second, as if contemplating his next move. All he could do at that moment, however, was release himself from you and then sharply turn away.
“I should get going,” he grumbled.
“Jimmy,” you pleaded fearfully. 
“I’ll write to you when I can. I promise.”
Your heart ached as you watched him walk off without another word. You covered your mouth to stifle your cry. This was certainly not how either of you wanted to spend your last night together. It felt as thought you had stabbed your dearest friend in the back when he left you without looking back. And you knew things would never be the same again between you two. 
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rosequartzwriting · 4 years
Text
With The Malfoys
Pairing: Draco Malfoy X Fem!Slytherin!Reader
Description: You had been staying with your boyfriend’s family, the Malfoys, before the summer break is over. You also go with them on a trip to Diagon Alley to get your school supplies for the new year. Draco comforts your insecurity. 
Warnings: Non
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: Originally posted on Qutoev / TRANS LIVES MATTER / I really like this one, wrote it when I was on a Draco high a few years ago haha. Also more Draco cause he’s popular right now. (I’m not into Draco anymore but these exist)
Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee
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You began to stir in your sleep when someone started knocking on the guest bedroom door. The sun shining in your eyes from the large windows didn’t help at all. You heard the door open and small footsteps follow behind.
“Lady (Y/N)? You’ve requested for me to wake you up at this hour.”
The light voice of the small house elf fully woke you up. You sat up and rubbed the tiredness from your eyes. “Yes, thank you Sammi.”
“Also, Mrs. Malfoy has invited you for morning tea. And an owl came this morning for you.” The little house elf said as she began to flatten out the sheets on your large guest bed. She had handed you a letter closed with a familiar seal. You didn’t hesitate to rip it open read it.
Hope you’re doing well darling,
It does feel weird having you be gone from the house two weeks early, but I assume everything is fine over there. I received a letter from Lucius and he says he enjoys having you at the Manor, and that he has noticed how happy you make his son. He says he wants you back for your Christmas break, he invited me and your father as well. Let me know and we’ll hopefully see you for Christmas over there. I hope you are remembering your manners over there! Treat everyone well and don’t forget to go to Diagon Alley to get your stuff for school. And write me back if you can!
See you soon, I love you
Signed
-Your mother
You were staying at Malfoy Manor for the last two weeks of summer break. Despite them being controversial both at school and in wizarding world in general, you loved Draco’s family. They adored you and they insisted that you stay with them before the next school year started.
The letter from your mother made you happy, but also semi embarrassed you. You have often received positive things from both your and Draco’s parents that you were dating. It took a while for his father to warm up to you, but his mother loved you instantly. And your parents adored Draco. All four of them never let you forget how perfect they thought you were.
You got up and Sammi the house elf made your bed behind you. Over the past few days, she sort of became your personal house elf since she was assigned to you so much. You showed her nothing but kindness and compassion. It was nice to have someone like her with you all throughout your stay.
You got ready in the bathroom and dressed into a clean outfit. A simple black dress and some black heel boots. You found yourself dressing a bit more formal when with the Malfoys, you grew to like it (and you felt good wearing nice dresses).
You came back into your room to find Sammi tidying it up a bit. She worked really hard by what you have seen her do.
“I appreciate your company, Sammi.”
She turned to you and her huge eyes lit up. “No one has ever been as kind to me as you, Lady (Y/N)!” Her speech was not like other house elves, not referring to herself in third person.
“It’s nothing don’t worry.” You waved it off. “Also I told you that you don’t have to call me ‘lady’.”
“Are you sure? I’m too used to being so formal to our guests."
You nodded and she smiled. You walked over to your bedside table and picked up your wand to place in the belt of your dress.
“But I quite like the sound of ‘lady (Y/N)’!” Sammi beamed, dusting a nearby shelf.
“There’s no need, really.” You replied, picking up the glass of water next to where your wand was and taking a sip.
“But really…” She paused. “Maybe someday I’ll be calling you Mrs. Malfoy.”
You choked and water went down the wrong way.
“I honestly do hope you and Master Draco get married. Maybe it will happen once you both graduate from Hogwarts. Oh, a house elf can only dream.” And with that she left your room, leaving you a coughing and blushing mess.
~~~~
Descending the main staircase, you made your way towards the drawing room where Narcissa Malfoy often invited you to have tea in the morning. You knew where you were going now, the manor had become familiar dispute its size. The first few days you always found yourself lost in the giant mansion, there were too many rooms to explore and curiosity took over plenty of times.
“Good morning, darling.” Narcissa greeted you while using her wand to pour you tea.
“Morning, Narcissa.” She had insisted that you call her by her first name.
“Did you get your letter? Who was it from?”
You sat down in the chair across from hers, it was soft and large. Taking your tea, you curled up on the chair. “The letter was from my mother.”
She smiled into her tea cup. “Oh (your mother’s name), I do miss her. Maybe she and your father should join us for Christmas…oh has Lucius or Draco mentioned that to you yet?”
“They hadn’t told me, but mum mentioned it in her letter. She’d love to come I’m sure.”
“I hope they do.” Narcissa smiled. “I’m sure if you asked them you all could join us.”
“I can ask them. I should write them back.”
Narcissa was already on it, using her magic to hand you a piece of parchment and a quill with ink already. You thanked her and began a letter back to your mother, writing on top of a book on your lap. Neutral peaceful silence fell in the room, Narcissa now petting a cat while you wrote to your mother and drank your tea. While writing, the large doors to the room opened and you wondered who had entered.
"Morning, Princess."
It was Draco. You felt his presence over your shoulder so you scooted over in your chair for him to sit. He did so, plopping down and slinging his arm around you.
"Morning mother." He smiled innocently, she was eyeing him for not acknowledging her earlier along with you. He then glanced down at you , "Whats this?"
"Mum wrote me this morning, replying back." You answered, then raising your quill to tickle his face for a split second just to bug him.
“Oh Draco, what do you think about the (L/N)s joining us for Christmas this year?” His mother asked him, chiming in about the letter.
"That would be great." He answered but he sounded unsure, then he continued which explained it, "but...do we want them near the other people we usually invite to our Christmas parties?"
"What do you mean?" She raised an eyebrow.
He turned to you. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want to meet my aunt Bella, (Y/N).”
“Do not speak of your aunt like that Draco.” Narcissa scoffed. “But...it is true that my sister is a little…uh”
“Insane?” Draco suggested, raising an eyebrow.
“Peculiar.” She corrected while eyeing her son.
"I'm sure me and my parents will survive a party here." You laughed.
~~~~
“Why is it that whenever I set foot in Diagon Alley, I instantly smell mudbloods?”
You slapped him on the shoulder. “Draco!”
“What? It’s kinda true.” This told you that he was trying to make a joke, but you just rolled your eyes.
You, Draco, Lucius and Narcissa were now walking down the street in Diagon Alley to get the things on your list for your next year at Hogwarts.
Once you got to a populated area, you felt eyes staring at you and the Malfoys. You instantly grew self conscious. You wrapped your arms around yourself and suddenly became aware of how heavy your footsteps sounded with the heels. Did you look like a snob to them? Too dramatic or over the top? Actually...do people think that you’re a Death Eater?
Draco noticed that you had become fidgety and nervous. He put it together and saw that you didn’t like the stares. He reached out and gently grabbed your hand to hold it.
“It’s okay, darling.” He whispered, pulling you closer to him protectively. “Keep that head held high. They’re just jealous that you’re so beautiful.”
You blushed and chuckled under your breath. Soon you found a small push of confidence, head up and smiling.
Yeah that’s right, I’m with the Malfoys! I probably look really good right now.
One of the first stops was Flourish and Blotts, where you needed to get the new textbooks for your classes. Draco’s parents had wandered to speak with another pure blood family that was on the other side of the shop, while you and Draco looked for textbooks. You scanned the shelves for a copy of Advanced Potion-making, and you felt Draco looming over your shoulder as he helped you look.
Then something caught your attention and you listened carefully. There was a group talking somewhere, and you swear you heard them mutter Malfoy and (L/N). Draco was busy mumbling to himself the book titles as he browsed the shelves, while you listened. It clicked in your head and the voices were suddenly recognizable.
You didn’t look in their direction and tried to act casual. Draco hadn’t noticed yet, so you slapped him lightly to get his attention.
“Draco.” You whispered.
He kept talking to himself, “Scamander? What an unfortunate surname to have...”
You rolled your eyes, “Draco!”
“What?”
“Shh! Listen.”
He did, then he understood what you meant. The two of you listened into the conversation while still trying to look like you were busy.
“Also why do they always dress like that? Are they going to a party?”
“Those heels (L/N) is wearing look really uncomfortable.”
“I’m surprised they’re still together. How long has it been?”
“A few years now.”
“Longer than most people at Hogwarts.”
“I don’t care, it’s still disgusting.”
“Is she with him just because he’s rich?”
“Maybe.”
"Maybe they've been arranged, like an arranged marriage."
"I wouldn't be surprised, not many pure blood families to keep the Malfoy family completely pure."
“They look like they’re plotting something…”
“Just by looking at books?”
“They always look like they’re up to no good.”
“Probably been bowing to You-Know-Who all summer.”
Draco had enough and he spoke up, “You’re really bad at being quiet, Potter.”
Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger all stopped talking, and turned to you and Draco with shocked faces. A smirk pulled at your lips, and you assumed your boyfriend was doing the same, the menacing smiles of a perfect Slytherin duo and couple.
You followed Draco as he approached the trio, knowing that all hell was about to break loose. But you were here for it. You stood there, arms crossed over your chest as you watched Draco and Harry have a standoff.
While the boys were nagging at each other, you watched with amusement. You quickly glanced to the side and looked at the bookshelf. “Oh look, here they are!” You took two copies of Advanced Potion-making off the shelf, which was right beside Granger. Somehow this irritated her.
“Oh by the way.” You started. “I’m not with him just because he’s rich,” You did your best intentionally annoying Hermione Granger impression. “and we weren't arranged. Pfff. Shame on you, mudblood.”
Alright maybe that was a little low for you to stoop down to, but what she said really got on your nerves so you said the first insult you thought of to call her.
The tension created by the mutual hatred on both sides caused a few other shoppers to stop and watch for at least one second. Draco was in the process of defending his last name from association with the dark arts, and it was amusing to you that he could piss off Harry just by barely opening his mouth.
“And I’d like to see you walk in these.” You showed off your heeled shoes to Granger which you noticed bugged her. “You’d probably trip and break your ankle in one step.”
Then you both went off, mirroring Draco and Harry. It could have gone on for much longer, but a large figure that appeared made the three Gryffindors tense and freeze.
“I really hope these blood traitors aren't giving you two any trouble.” Lucius’ voice rang out, him now standing behind you both with his wife.
“They were speaking negatively about us.” You stated with irritation, but with a hint of a smug smile.
Narcissa put her hands on her son’s shoulders protectively. "Forget them, dears. They are not worth your time."
"You're right mother, they're not at all." Draco held his nose in the air and began to walk off with Narcissa.
Lucius glared at the three, “Do not ever disrespect my future daughter-in-law. Come along, (Y/N).” The man lead you away from them, you still holding the textbooks you and Draco needed.
That comment made you blush, but it put a smile on your face once you saw the trio’s expressions; in some state of disbelief and jaws slightly slack. So you followed Lucius with your head held high.
~~~~
It was now September first, and the Hogwarts Express was scheduled to leave any minute now, but Narcissa’s bone crushing hug was preventing you from getting on the train.
“Mum, let her go.” Draco rolled his eyes and tried to pry his mother’s arms off of you.
She eventually did, but took your shoulders to look at you, "You watch over him, alright?"
"I will." You laughed.
Draco grabbed you hand and you both jumped onto the train just as it was leaving. You looked back and waved to his parents.
“We love you! Stay out of trouble!” His mother called one last time before they were out of sight.
"Why does mum have to be so embarrassing sometimes..." Draco mumbled under his breath as he pulled you along the hall to find an empty car.
"Because it's her job to embarrass you." You giggled, and he shook his head.
Once you found an empty car and settled in, you both sat down for the long train ride. You leaned your head on Draco's shoulder, and he let out a breath of amusement. You knew he was smirking, with content.
"You can take a nap if you want, darling." Draco chuckled, seeing how comfortable you have become now cuddling up to him.
"I could~" You sighed, now wrapping your arms around his torso, "wake me up when we get there..."
Draco smiled, placing one hand around your waist and the other on top of one of yours. He kissed your temple, and made a mental note that if Crabbe and Goyle wanted to share a car with you both, he wouldn't let them wake you.
71 notes · View notes
chemicallady · 4 years
Text
Matching
Greg Sanders x Reader!
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A/N: Hi everyone! Have you ever noticed that there are not enough Greg Sanders fanfiction in the world? I have looked for some for a while, but nothing. Now, stop complaining and let's have fun togheter, this is my first Greg Sanders x Reader! I hope you will like it! Besos! 
 Couple: Greg Sanders/Female!Reader 
Category: Fluff 
Content Warning: // 
 Summary:  this is the first time Greg tries to find love with an app. Who knows whohe  is gonna meet with a cyber matching?
  ***
Las Vegas, October 5th 2015 
The last month was rough for him. Many things had changed forever. Nick had resigned from the team, Sarah decided to take a break after a big promotion in order to restore her relationship with Grissom, Catherine is back to her position as the leader of the night shift. 
Russell is moving on with his life and Finn is gone. Forever. No matter how much his tried to save her life or they prayed for her, she is gone. 
Greg is not confortable with big changes. For the first time in forever he is feeling like he is flooting. Dr Robbins said that is normal, in a moment like this one, in which he has escaped the death again, to feel this way.
«Maybe you need a fresh new start.»
Everyone is starting something, whatever. Nick is a boss now, Sarah is happy with her ex husband and former director of the lab. Even Hodges is living the moment, with a new girlfriend. 
«He met her on a website», Henry said to Greg during a coffee break. 
He laughted, then he used this information against Hodges. 
«It isnt a website... I am not dating a russian wife!»
Greg smirked, «No more girls interested in your Visa after the italian one?»
«Shut the fuck up, Sanders. Nowdays is normal using dating app. You should try and stop wasting my time!»
****
He didnt download Tinder only because Hodges suggested it. 
Of course.
He decided to try the app only to dimostrate that is a poor life choice. 
But the amounth of time he have spent in looking at girls profiles is already too much to look credible. Furthermore, Lindsay have noticed him swapping girls away and she giggled amused. «You should try to go on a date. Dont tell my mom, but I met a guy once, on Tinder. He was really awsome, but he was a tourist. An advice, always take a loool if she is a resident!»
And he followed her suggestion, making the opposite. Just to have some fun. 
There are many people who only are in Vegas for having fun and even if was cool, meeting girls who only want a one night stand, after three or four date started to make him feel bored. 
He always talk a little about is job, fake interesting in the girl’s plan for her vacation and everything ending in the morning. 
So he decided to try something else. 
A serious date, for once. 
***
He is exploring your profile since the moment you two matched. He is fascinating by your (y/e/c) eyes in the profile picture. You look smart but gentle at the same time. No mention to the fact that even if you are linving in Vegas, you are from (you hometown/nation) and you are a PhD candidate in Archaelogy. 
You dont look like the other girls he met in the last period. You are a student, a really good one. You have a picture in front of Columbia University, which you attended for your MSc and graduated.
So you are not only smart, but really intelligent. 
You have those beautiful (y/h/c) hair and a gentle smile. 
So he picks all his courage and writes you a simple ‘hi’. 
You dont answer immediatly, even if you have read the message. So Greg closes the app with disappointed. Well. It’s proved. You cant find love in one of this app. 
He decides that is far better to start with the awfull pile of documents on the desk, before is too late. Or to early, depends by the point of view. 
*** 
He had finished with paperwork around 7 am and so he decided to go home.
In the moment he enters the living room, he feels so lonely. It’s happening quite often in the last period. He kicks his shoes away and sits on the sofa, taking a deep breath. With his eyes close, he starts to thing about the last serious date and its look like a century ago.
And it was a complete failure.
Everytime he fell for a girl is always the same old story. Firstly, amazing. Then a mess because of his job.
But he doesn't have to change is life only because he feels the emptiness of his house. He has worked so much to achieve this results and now...
Now? What he has? A good position in an horrible schedule shift. An amazing group of team mates - unfortunately Hodges is still working in the materials lab, but who cares- but no social life. No family. He is 40 now and he was looking for a 25 years girl.
So silly.
So stupid.
But what's is even silliest? Losing himself in those throughs instead of sleep. He has his shift starting at 11 pm, but he has the laudary to do. And he need to clean the apartment. Is full of dust.
****
After seven hours sleeping, he feels himself far more positive. It's around 2 pm when he wakes up and start with the laudary. He gets a look on the phone and answer to Morgan under a pic on facebook, than he notices that he has a new notification on Tinder.
He is so surprise when he realises that is you.
-who wrote 'hi' at 4.30 in the morning?-
He blushes a little, thinking about it. It was really early and he hasnt realised it.
-someone who is working at night...?-
The answer is not the best. But you are smart and you bring a good observation.
-like a hooker?-
He laught a little, rising his elbow.
-sorta. But not so well paid.-
Making fun of the hookers is not a good way to start a conversation, but someway, it works. You two share some messages and then you give your phone number to him.
You are free tomorrow for lunch, even if is unusual meeting someone with the sun in the sky, in Vegas.
And he is totaly down.
***
Is strange for you to go on a date with someone you don't know. But it is even strangest go for a lunch date. It's look so formal to you, but the guy in the profile pic looks potentially awsome. You have read from his description that he works for the Clark Country Police Department and this is a hot detail: you have a thing for cops.
You dressed nicely for the lunch inside The Venice's restaurant. Classy choice by the way. But not elegant because is 12 am. You also decide to go easy on your make up, because after this date you have to help in teaching a bacherlo class and you are hoping that you won't have enough time to change, after the meal.
So here we go.
In front of the restaurant.
You look around and see a figure a couple of meters away from you. He is pretty tall and with dark blonde hair. He is also well dressed, better then you, but not formal.
Your glazes meet in the middle of the atrium and you both smile embarrassed. He is the first one to move some steps near to you.
《Hi. You are (y/n)?》
《Yes. And you must be Greg.》
You shake his hand and then catch his invitation to enter in the restaurant first. The waiter reserved you a nice place on the balcony. The cannel is fake, not even similar to the Italian one, but is romantic.
One score for Greg.
《What would you like to eat?》, he asked so politely that you can't help yourself, but smile back.
《I thing I'll go with a sandwich for lunch》
《Nice choice, I am down. Wine?》
《Sorry, but I have a class in the afternoon...》
This time he is smiling. 《Then water for two.》
He is so kind. He decides to drink water because you can't drink wine. This is another score.
After you two have made your orders, it's time for questions.
《Do you usually meet people this way?》, je asks, nicely. Even if there is no accusation in the tune of his voice, you blush a little.
《It's not the first time, but I am still a skeptical, by the way.》
《Why?》
《Because I've met only morons on Tinder. 》 You try your best smile. 《Hope you are not one of them.》
《I share this hope with you》, he jokes. 《I am looking for your verdict at the end of the meal, so.》
You both laught. Is a nice company and the tension is going away.
《So you are a cop?》
《Not exactly. I work for the crime like as a crime scene investigator.》
You looked impressed. 《Sounds amazing but hard at the same time. I am asking to my self you an awsome guy like you is still single.... is for your job?》
This time is Greg the one who blushes. 《Yes is really... It takes most of my time. Someday all of my time.》
《I can relate》, you say. 《I am not cool as you are, I don't save people for live, neither I am good in puzzle but... I work on field so I spend several weeks abroad. Sometimes even a month or two and when I come back...》
《...You have the feeling that everyone is carries on with his life but you are static》 he ends your statement. 《Yes, you can relate, totaly.》
You two share a smile and then he starts to ask you some questiom about your job, your position at the UNLV and stuffs.
In the end, after a sweet fight, he insists to pay the meal, but you put on the table the tips.
《It was really nice 》, you say and he agrees. 《We should do that again. What's your spare night?》
《Monday》 he aswers, immediately 《If my boss wont tell me otherwise.》
《If you are agree, you can see eachother again on Monday, so.》
《It will be amazing.》
Another smile and a little silence. You have no idea of what to do now. Is too soon for a kiss, but an hand shake would be awful. So you decide to come closer to him and kiss his cheek. Is so cute the way he blushes again. Greg is near now and you can feel his breath on your lips. For him, is not too soon. He gently puts a hands on you hip and drag you into a soft kiss.
The best way to end a good date.
****
《So how is she?》
After two weeks dating, Greg decides to tell the guys about you.
Terrible idea.
《She is so nice!》 He starts excited, while Catherine is laught, shaking is head and look at David Philips in the classical 'told ya' way. 《She is beautiful and gentle. She is also tremendously determinate. More than anything, she is so intelligent and her smell is amazing.》
《She can cook?》, Super Dave asks, joking.
《Everything you can say, she can do it. Is incredible. She speaks like five languages and is so sexy in bed.》
《This information is not necessary 》 is Catherine's comment.
But Dave wants to prove a point now. 《....She speaks five languages in bed or it was not correlated?》
《Guys, we are on a crime scene.》
The two boys share a small smile and wait for Russell to be far enough. So Dave asks one last question. 《Are you only fancy her... or maybe you are already in love?》
Greg thinks about it for a couple of second. 《I am already fucked.》
Dave laughs, 《of couse you are.》
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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years
Text
Mama’s Boy/Lover’s Boy (Bakugou x Reader)
Pairing: Bakugou x Fem!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Inspo: “Down for You” by Cosmo’s Midnight/Ruel
Summary: Bakugou hates being dragged to fancy parties for many reasons, but only one thing makes it all worth it.
Word Count: 2,322
Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog​ @bunnythepipsqueak​
a/n:  I absolutely adore this picture, ngl that was the whole inspo for this.
It's not fair that a whole Katsuki exists while I'm bleeding out and my hormones are out of whack.  I'M A LOYAL SHOUTO HO, STAY IN YOUR LANE KATSUKI!  DON'T TAKE ADVANTAGE OF MY INSTABILITY LIKE THIS!
When I was at the last few paragraphs, I realized I would've loved to let Baku lose his shit and almost crash the entire thing like in Murphy's Law (man I loved writing that), but that wouldn't be good.  We love a good chaotic fluff monster.
This turned out a lot longer than I thought it would, but I really like how it turned out!  Definitely more fluff than I expected, but who's mad at that?  I'm bleeding out of my uterus and my mom and dad got me feverish and sick and I definitely needed this, so I KNOW you Baku stans are gushing at this too.  Thanks to @rubyred-imagines​ for one of the story beats here!
Spice might be incoming in the next day or two ;3  Not sure which character yet, but it's gonna happen!
"Babe, your face."
"What about it?!"
"Stop looking like you want to kill everyone."
"But I do!"
"I know you do, but don't look it."
Katsuki walks into the grand hall, muscular arm linked through his dazzling girlfriend's slender one.  He really doesn't want to be here; he hates these high-class, uptight gatherings, he hates this constricting tuxedo he has to wear, he hates how he barely knows anyone here, and he especially hates that he could've been on a date with her alone instead of being surrounded by these suffocating faces.
His lovely girlfriend announced this unfortunate outing a few weeks ago right before Katsuki was going to suggest the idea of having a date night, since they haven't had any quality alone time together in a while.  Her eyes lit up when she reported that she RSVP-ed for both of them to attend her company's fancy dinner.  And his plans were crushed like that.  He wanted to grumble and refuse, but she'd yell right back at him anyway, being the stubborn person she is.
She reminds him of his mother.
"You're just like my mom," Katsuki rolls his eyes.  "She used to drag me to her company dinners all the time, too."
"We won't stay for long, I promise," she pats his arm with her perfectly manicured fingernails.
"She used to say that too, and then we'd be out for hours," he mumbles to himself.
The girl looks up at him sweetly.  "And you'll be a good boyfriend and stay here with me the whole time, right?"
The blond growls low in his throat.  "I don't even belong here, you were invited, not me."
"Katsuki, you're my guest, of course you belong here."  She leans up to whisper in his ear, "Besides, you're more handsome than any of the guys here, show them all up."
That makes Katsuki smirk.  "Damn right I am, babe."
The couple find their table after an irritating amount of time.  Every few steps, some other pretentious stranger from his girlfriend's company sweeps over to exchange empty kisses and the same empty conversation.  Katsuki thinks it's some kind of script everyone practiced from, no one deviating from the script or else the entire simulation might fall apart.  Actually, he would like to say something inappropriate just to relish their horrified or disgusted faces, but he for the sake of his precious girlfriend, he keeps his mouth shut, teeth grit, and smile plastered each time he's introduced to a new face.
"Do you really know everyone here, babe?" Katsuki mutters in her ear as they finally approach the table.
"Not everyone," she hums in response, "I don't know most of the employees from the other two companies here, but I know the higher-ups through my boss."
He briefly remembers her saying this dinner was for a big merger deal between these three companies.  His girlfriend works tirelessly for her boss, usually taking on more than she can handle and coming home late most nights.  She'd been promoted from just being a regular company worker to being in a near-the-top position right under the main board managers.  He admires her dedication, but he's always worried about her health and energy level.  He may be a Pro Hero, but she's the real superhuman in the relationship.
Katsuki does the gentlemanly thing of pulling the chair out for his lady and pushing her back in before settling in his seat next to her, purposely shifting closer to her than the person on his other side.
"What manners your boyfriend has," one of the older ladies at the table coos at the couple.
"Thank you, I'm very grateful to have him," the girl smiles politely in response.
Katsuki's heart melts at the pride dripping from her voice as she compliments him.  "And I'm very lucky to have her."  It felt like the right thing to say as he squeezes her hand under the table and briefly glances into her eyes.
The two don't tear away from each other until someone else approaches his girlfriend and she stands to greet him briefly.  Katsuki surveys him in case he would do something ballsy to his girlfriend.
She turns and places a hand on Katsuki's shoulder.  "This is my boyfriend, Katsuki Bakugou."
Hell yeah, I am, you better not pull anything, dumbass.  He stands and shakes the other man's hand, polite but stiff.
"Nice to meet you.  Your girlfriend is honestly a powerhouse, she's amazing," the man gushes.
"Yes, I'm aware," the blond replies tersely.  He's on guard because he doesn't get a good vibe from this man.
Sure enough, he goes on a little too animatedly about how much his girlfriend does for the company and the rest of the company.  It comes off to Katsuki as fake and kiss-ass.  Nonetheless, his girlfriend accepts all the compliments like the graceful goddess she is.  He realizes this boy is one of his girlfriend's juniors as they descend into a conversation surrounding work and future projects.
After dismissing him, another group of his girlfriend's underlings rushes over with compliments and "Oh my gosh, senpai!  You look amazing!" and the like.  Each time, she would accept the praise, introduce him, before launching into more work-related subject matter that Katsuki learned to tune out eventually.
Honestly, he's annoyed at how everyone here is overwhelmingly toxic.  All the subordinates or peers are kiss-ups and her superiors are pretentious stick-up-their-asses that look down on his girlfriend.  He can't stand that his lover is surrounded by this atmosphere all day.  They don't know the genuine type of person she is, other than that she's kind and easy to walk all over.  No one seems like they care enough to carry genuine conversation, and he'd rather not tune into that energy.
Instead, Katsuki directs his attention to his lovely girlfriend.  Staring at her face, he recalls how painstakingly long it took for her to paint her face with makeup to look this flawless.  He's sure she would've had a mental breakdown while doing her eyes, especially putting on her eyeliner.  She was chanting to herself cutely to get them even, almost coaxing her shaky hands in front of the mirror to perform some kind of magic.  If he had done the wrong thing and hurried her or teased her habits, she would've unleashed all her anger on him.  He's learned that the hard way.  In the end, she was able to achieve this masterpiece on her face without making herself look like a completely different person, highlighting her natural beauty.
Scanning downward to her dress, he remembers fondly going shopping with her last weekend.  Her hair was in a topknot as she fumbled through the racks for a dress to wear.  She had dragged him along because she trusted his opinion on fashion choices.  While he would've liked for her to choose a scarlet red gown, Katsuki knew she'd look infinitely better in the sapphire blue number she's wearing now.  The skinny straps holding the dress up leads down to a not-too-plunging neckline that suits her shoulders, collarbone, and chest perfectly.  The dress cinches in at the waist to emphasize the figure he knows she has before falling straight down from her hips, and the mid-thigh slit on one side is subtly sexy without having her risk overexposure.  Finishing the entire outfit is a classic pair of nude pumps, a dainty gold necklace, matching dangling earrings, and a clutch matching her shoes.  Her hair is curled in waves cascading down her back with some stands hanging over one shoulder.
Katsuki can't help but smile unconsciously.  He can't wait to someday place the finishing touch she deserves: a simple but elegant ring on her left hand.
After all the formalities, the two finally sit down and start eating the dinner courses that have started gracing their place settings.
"I know you wanted to go out for date night today," his girlfriend begins gently, "But we can imagine this is a fancy restaurant with just us two, and everything else is just a backdrop."
"Shouldn't you be paying attention to what's going on?" Katsuki quirks an eyebrow.
She waves her hand and takes a refined sip of her wine.  "I've already heard them practice this speech too many times."
The devilish blond smirks and slinks closer to her.  "That's not something a good employee would do, is it?"
"I'm not working right now," she smoothly responds back, replicating his energy.
The organizer of the dinner finally takes the stage and starts his speech.  Katsuki keeps his gaze on his beautiful girlfriend, admiring her delicately picking and eating at her plate.  She's so precious to him, he doesn't care if he's making heart eyes and everyone can see.
When the speech finishes, his girlfriend's glass also empties and she indicates that she's going to get another.  It leaves him on edge, he hates being alone with all these strangers even for a few minutes.  He doesn't want to tell you this, but if one of these people try to small talk him without you here, he might actually break something.
"So, Bakugou, what do you do?" the same lady from earlier chirps at him.
He whips his head up.  For fuck's sake.  "I'm a...public safety worker of sorts."  He tries so hard to sound polite for his girlfriend's sake.  He also can't resist scanning the room for her as a safety reflex.  With all the shady people around, he doesn't trust that something bad won't happen.  And he also wants your comfort in these uncomfortable situations, but he'll never admit that either.
"Oh, I see."  The old lady seems satisfied with his tone, barely noticing his fidgeting as she launches into a whole story about her grandson wanting to do something like that, and all the tangents related to that.
Katsuki is relieved that he doesn't have to talk for the rest of the time, just nodding along  and humming to prove he's passively listening.  He finally spots his angel a few tables away, groaning internally that she was stopped by someone, keeping her from coming back to him.  It seems they were having a deep conversation at first, but suddenly the man cracks a smile and a joke that makes her cover her mouth in respectful laughter.
Katsuki's annoyance is cut through at her wholehearted display of emotions.  The entire night, he's been complaining about how much he hates everyone here, but it's only now he realizes how relaxed she looks in the entire situation.  She's completely in her element; he'd get easily drained by all the suffocating small talk, but her?  She thrives off this, she gains energy from it.  Although she comes home late, overworked and tired, she still faces every day with a smile on her face.  She makes it look so easy to talk to people, striking up and following conversations with everyone in the most endearing and poised way possible.
Katsuki smiles to himself, warmth washing over him.  Yes, just like his mom, but it makes his girlfriend all the more stunning and admirable in his eyes.
His girlfriend finally returns to the table, her recently-acquired glass already half empty.  "What did I miss?" she asks, buzzing with both energy and alcohol.
Katsuki leans his head on his palm.  "Nothing much."  He's still basking in the glow of his wonderful girlfriend, casually sipping his own wine absently.
She turns towards the clearing in the center of the room and takes his free hand.  "Let's go dance, babe!"
Any other time, Katsuki would have sternly declined, but he can't resist her today.  Without a single complaint, he rises and lets her drag him by their entwined hands to the dance floor.  Guiding his large hand around her waist as her one hand plants to his shoulder, she raises their joined hands and starts swaying them to the classic orchestral ensemble's upbeat performance.
The man doesn't know if it's the overwhelming feeling of pride he recently uncovered, or the way their bodies press together gently as he inhales her floral perfume, but he can't find the words to describe everything he wants to say. He settles on simply smiling warmly down at her as he whispers, "You're amazing, you know that?"
His girlfriend's cheeks flush and she erupts into giggles.  "What's with the sudden compliment?"
He shakes his head.  "I just realized it, that's all.  Just like my mom."
"You sure are a Mama's boy, aren't you?"
He scoffs at the idea.  "I love the old hag, but I'll never tell her that.  Besides, I'd say I'm whipped for a different woman in my life."  He brushes hair behind her ear, her earring glinting against the light, and places a kiss on her perfect temple.  "You look stunning tonight."
His girlfriend's eyes close in half-lidded affection.  "I'm sorry this isn't the perfect date night you wanted."
The blond leans his forehead on her's, slowing their pace to allow time to pass much more leisurely around them.  "I get to dance with you, I think that's a definite win."
"I guess so."
Katsuki comes to realize that he can be forced to come to all of these events.  All that matters is his enchanting lover and her smile.  When the night is over, he can't wait to let her take her heels off and carry her bridal style to their car as everyone watches in envy and awe.  He'd let her recline and rest her weary feet, telling her stories of his adventures of night outings with his mom to lull her to sleep in his passenger seat.  And then he'd carry her sleeping figure up to their bedroom and wake her gently so she can clean herself up and change into her cute pajamas, just so they can cuddle in each other's warmth until they fall asleep.
Maybe he's not a Mama's boy anymore.  More like he's a Lover's boy.
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