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#unfortunately i care about her opinion
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I was rewatching The Stone Forest and I really like to think that Hilda had to pass by the Bell Keeper’s outpost on her way out of the city limits. I like to think that idiot looked at what was happening, shrugged, and said ‘eh, she’s the scariest thing out there’
#“‘the scariest thing out there’?”the girl sends him a look that isn't quite a glare for once; it still conveys her opinion just as clearly#Edmund shrugs. Hilda is still within sight of his binoculars. he watches her run and can’t be sure whether she’s running *towards* or *from#*.He doesn’t think she knows either.#'I mean. it’s not like trolls can harm her at this time of the day.#Don’t tell me you believe in fairies kid.'#And there it is at last: the glare. Meiri looks up from her art project - her new therapist had reccomended it as a way to express herself#and since he'd been helping so much so far she'd decided to grudgingly give it a shot -#“*No*” she states pointedly; to anyone who knew her it was an affirmation. And Edmund knew her better than she cared for#'What I believe in is wolves and recluse spiders and ticks and nettle. And I believe that someone with the spine#to sabotage the Patrol wouldn't have the self control to not lick a pretty mushroom'#“Hey!” Edmund protested putting down his binoculars. “I sabotaged the Patrol! For *you* I might add!”#Meiri's smile turned mean; it was a regular expression for her yet it never conveyed any malice. Just the thrill of a game that never tired#her. “And would you?” she lifted one thick eyebrow; signaling to her dad that it was his move now#The dad in question was unfortunately thinking back to a time in his young teenage years when he figured he could eat anything animals bit#and gave himself a poisoning that had him taken to the ER. But she didn't need to know that. *ever* in fact.#“Obviously I would. Like I'd let a mushroom ruin my perfect sandwich diet”#Meiri groaned loudly. Some games were worth playing. But some wars she'd already accepted she'd never win#“Anyway” he turned back to staring at the outside of the wall as if it was of any interest to him (it wasn't)#“kid'll be fine is my point. And even if she isn't ya know what's the best think about this situation?”#They looked at each other with matching smirks. “none of our flipping business” he said at the same time as she echoed#“None of our fucking business”#He gasped immediatelly. “*Meiri!*”#The chastening was useless. She just shrugged innocently.#He'd really have to limit her library visits#the bell keeper hilda#meirdom#hilda the series#hilda netflix
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outer-edges · 7 months
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bruh apparently my roommate fell down the terf pipeline this summer and proudly told me she is a terf tonight. uh. babe what the fuck do you want me to do with that.
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kamomie · 8 months
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Going on twitter is always a mistake, I gotta stop lmao
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ashbur · 1 month
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hexburn · 1 year
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would like to publicly announce that my opinion of adam is no longer negative, since he has thoroughly apologised for the shitstorm he caused towards upset and upset's wife
instead i am neutral towards that small man
#tldw of the apology stream vod i found but:#he's sorry to upset's wife and he didnt realise people would be so shitty and it wasnt her fault and shes probably a really good person#he's still angry at upset because he thinks upset handled the situation unprofessionally#according to him upset kind of ghosted the team after going home and never talked to any of them until the twitlonger#now for personal opinions:#theyre both exactly what id expect of people at or around the age of 20.#adam gets frustrated and performs the equivalent of subtweeting an irl youre angry at#which because hes adam unleashes vitriol and misogyny from twitter and reddit towards upset's wife#it is plausible to me that he had zero idea that would happen#even if hes received hate dms before he may simply not have known people would lash out at upset's wife specifically#since he was angry at upset#(unfortunately common for young men to not realise the extent of misogyny and gendered violence in their communities#because they simply are not on the receiving end of it)#ignorance is bad but not as inexcusable to me as intentional hatred#as for upset he has to deal with severe family matters and so he does not speak to his teammates at all#it is plausible to me that he did not realise people were expecting him to keep in touch#from the way adam talked it seemed to me that he just wanted an indication that upset still cared about the team#which i can understand; as someone who went through severe mental health crisis and depression while being the captain of a team sport#people expected me to pay attention even though i was barely getting through each day and often tapped out of practices#and so i kept showing my face at meetings even if i left after fifteen minutes because people wanted me to show i cared#i figured this out because my PARENTS and other adults in my life told me i had to keep paying attention and showing my face#if it wasnt for their advice i would have had to find out by experience. thats what upset had to do.#so both sides arent evil or bad to me#theyre just exactly what id expect of young adults who dont really know business or career expectations#and unfortunately because of the highly public nature of their jobs they do not get to learn with trial and small errors#the only way for them to err is to err dramatically and with far-reaching consequences#so. tldr i no longer have a bad opinion of adam#i appreciate his tone in his apology and how he genuinely said he was sorry and he fucked up#so now he is back to neutral in my books
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aw-bean-s · 11 months
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Gotta say as someone whos been out since they were young, I'm really sick of having to defend the existence of queer people in media and explain how it's 'useful' or 'plot important' when straight ppl i know can like whatever trashy het romance they want no questions. Like does it have to be useful? Can it not just be there? It doesn't 'cheapen' anything its just there and suddenly you have to fight for your life to explain why it should get to exist. And it's always the bloody 'pandering' 'it's a trend' argument and I hate it because is it so terrible if they pander to ME for once instead of you?? Is that so terrible?? But you can't say that because then you're a fool who doesn't understand good storytelling. And then if they're real annoying, they'll pull the 'well i don't like when ANY romance is just pushed in' so then why. Is it always queer stuff you're complaining about?? And then I'm forced to be defending a (honestly poorly written) queer romance because all I said was that it couldve been handled better and somehow to straight ppl that translate to 'yeah they shouldn't have done it at all' and they don't even REALISE their bias and that SOMEHOW the ONLY FUCKING TIME we have this arguement it's about a queer character. Can I not enjoy the fact a superhero I like is bisexual while also admitting I don't like how they flattened their character after it? Can I not say 'yeah it's trashy but theyre cute' to some crap TV show? Does it always have to be perfect? Because yeah. I want good shows. I want complex dynamics. But sometimes it just feels nice when the silly comic book character is bisexual. And these motherfuckers will ALWAYS find some way to argue that it wasn't relevant and therefore they shouldn't have come out at all, which is just another way of saying that queerness should be kept away from the things they like and only be included if 'plot relevant' so then they can avoid it. I'm just so tired, so so fucking tired, of having the same argument over. And over. And over again with the same people about the same things when all I wanted to do was talk about a bisexual character WITHOUT some asshole jumping down my throat. I've been doing this shit since I was 12 and I'm just tired. Christ.
#'forced' my ass#If you can't tell i made the mistake of talking about comics to my dad#He's not like. Homophobic. He's just dumb and has internal biases he does not care to check unless he's drunk#And unfortunately I caught him before he opened the whiskey while he was still on beer :/ my mistake honestly#Also I know that it sounds like I go out of my way to pick fights (according to dad anyway) but I really dont#All I fucking said was 'yeah I like that they're bisexual but i don't like that they flattened their character afterwards'#'it's like they decided being bisexual and in a relationship was enough of a substitute for personality'#Which yeah I should have seen that coming but I wasn't wrong#Unfortunately he took it to mean that being bisexual is what ruined it and had no idea a character could be well written AND bisexual#When its not the bisexuality it's the writing and also! Entirely my own opinion! Other ppl think differently to me!#Just sucks when he's my dad and I have to make a compelling argument for why people like me should get to exist in fiction at all#Fuck that though I'm gonna write some big story and they're all gonna come out as bisexual for no reason just out of spite#Just one by one everyone becomes bisexual and what can he do? Complain about it?#Because mum would tear him a new asshole if he tried that shit in front of her#Anyway. Yeah. Probs was my fault because I shouldn't have mentioned the bi thing#I was just happy about it even if it wasn't up to my standards#It was silly of me. I might not have picked a fight deliberately but it was my fault#It's just frustrating because every 'plot important' bisexual is some seductress who swings both ways for their own benefit#There's no variety but it's the ONLY type of bisexual I haven't heard ppl complain about#Vent#Sorry abt this I'm just tired and angry and bisexual#(said like that isn't my default state)
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godofsmallthings · 2 years
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i just know we’re never going to get intense press waves from taylor again, which is absolutely for the best for her and for me but i also really do miss her in the down time between her popping her head up for release promo
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inkskinned · 1 year
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there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)
i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.
i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.
and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.
HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.
now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.
my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.
i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.
by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!
keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"
similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."
the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"
if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.
the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.
godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.
the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.
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whimsyprinx · 1 year
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im so glad that kane reads webcomics as well because none of my few friends seem to read webcomics (correct me if I’m wrong) and thus I have no one to discuss them with
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hoshiyoshis · 1 year
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i want. to get a tattoo.
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greenglowinspooks · 5 months
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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent
Tw: vivisection mention (not in detail), bad Fenton parents
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Pt. 2 here) (Pt. 3 here)
(Masterlist/subscription post)
It was a dark, cold, miserable night, and Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, wanted nothing more than to be home, covered in blankets with the heater set to max as he worked on his most recent strain of fear toxin.
Instead he was at the docks, standing in as backup for the Penguin as he made a deal with some sleaze-bag smugglers. Something about some sort of body armor for his hired help. Crane hadn’t really paid much attention to the Penguin’s words, only caring enough to show up because of the reward.
But honestly, he couldn’t care less about the money at this point.
He was cold, and miserable, and his leg hurt something fierce (he’d had chronic pains ever since being mauled by Killer Croc some time ago), and he was so, so close to a breakthrough with his new toxin, and he really couldn’t stand the Penguin anyways. The only thing keeping him there was his reputation as a rogue.
Just as Crane was deciding that the whole ordeal wasn’t worth it, he heard the sound of a chase a few blocks down. With a deep, heavy sigh, he moved from the wall he had been leaning against, looming in the alleyway as he waited for the potential threat to reveal itself.
A few moments later, a boy came careening into the alleyway, sliding to a stop when he noticed the Scarecrow, his eyes growing impossibly wide. Beneath the mask, Jonathan grinned.
The boy swore, loudly, glancing between Scarecrow and the exit of the alleyway. As the echoing sound of footsteps grew closer, he chose to face the way he came, turning his back to Scarecrow.
What an idiotic way to get killed. Either the boy was a complete and utter fool, or there was something out there worse (to him, at least) than the Scarecrow.
Jonathan Crane tilted his head slowly, considering. He could just cut his losses and leave, Penguin be damned, or he could stay and see what had the boy so spooked.
Eventually, unfortunately enough, his curiosity won out. He shifted, bringing a hand to his side where he kept several canisters of fear toxin.
Crane had to bite back a groan when the boy’s pursuers entered the alleyway.
It was those damned idiots in white suits.
They had been tailing him for weeks now. They were easy enough to fight, but they were annoyingly persistent, and always seemed to have a way to find him. (Not to mention, the Riddler had strong opinions on their outfits, and if he had to hear the white-suit-in-Gotham rant one more time he was going to throttle him.)
Led by the men in white was a woman in a teal hazmat suit. Jonathan had seen her around, too, though less frequently than the others. He had honestly assumed that she was just a new C-tier rogue and avoided her like the plague.
Her eyes went wide as saucers when she saw Jonathan standing a few feet from the boy. No one moved a muscle.
“Danny,” the woman spoke softly. The boy, Danny, flinched, glancing between her and Scarecrow, “come on, we can talk about this. Your father and I only want to help you.”
He was running from his mother?
Scarecrow paused after that revelation, choosing to fully take in the boy’s appearance.
He was lean, almost gaunt, and wearing clothes several sizes too big for him, probably stolen. His entire body shook, from fear and cold both, and he clutched his stomach with one hand. At first, Scarecrow assumed that it was due to being out of breath, but as he looked closer he could see blood staining the dark fabric of the boy’s shirt.
He was injured, underweight, and running from his parents.
Something that felt a lot like rage swelled in Jonathan’s heart.
“Danny, you don’t get it! We’re so close now. We can fix you, and then we can go home, and everything can go back to normal,” she said, smiling in a way that was clearly supposed to be reassuring. She took a few steps forward, the men behind her clearly readying their weapons.
The boy backed away from his mother, inadvertently coming closer to Scarecrow.
He glanced up at Crane again, his blue eyes shining in fear, but not of him.
Sickening. Sickening.
In one fluid motion, Jonathan grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling him behind him, and threw a large canister of fear gas into the group who had been chasing him.
The liquid in the container turned to gas as soon as it broke open, billowing out and filling half of the alleyway with a thick yellow smog.
The boy gasped, pulling his shirt over his face in a pathetic attempt to filter out the toxin. It would have to do, though, Scarecrow thought, rushing forward to force the boy’s aggressors to breathe in the gas.
The fight that the men put up was pitiful. The few individuals who didn’t breathe in the toxin immediately were clearly unused to fighting hand-to-hand, and dropped like flies in Scarecrow’s wake.
Just as the men began to spasm and shout in their terror, as if on cue, the familiar wail of police sirens reached the Scarecrow’s ears.
He heaved a heavy, irritated sigh, fingers twitching for a cigarette. He was trying to quit as of late, but he felt that after today, he might deserve one.
Though now was not the time to be thinking of cigarettes.
Jonathan approached the boy, mindful of any signs he might run off.
The boy didn’t seem to notice his approach in the slightest, just staring at the woman in the jumpsuit as she writhed on the ground.
Right. That would most likely be traumatic for a child to see, wouldn’t it?
Scarecrow moved in front of the boy, blocking his line of sight. The boy looked up at him now, his face completely blank.
“The police are on their way,” Scarecrow spoke, his voice low. The boy didn’t acknowledge him in any way.
“You don’t want to be here when they arrive, do you?”
After several moments pause, the boy shook his head slowly. He looked numb.
Dissociation, most likely.
“You’ll come with me, then.”
It was a statement, not a question, but he waited for the boy’s response regardless. As soon as he nodded in agreement, Jonathan lifted him up, carrying him out of the cold, miserable alleyway.
Scarecrow paused briefly to warn the Penguin of the incoming officers through the comm he had been given, and then he was off, weaving through the streets and alleyways towards his getaway car.
The drive back to his safe house was quiet. The boy didn’t look over at him once, instead opting to stare out ahead of him.
Luckily, they were able to make it back without detection. Jonathan ushered the boy into his small apartment, sitting him down on the dingy couch that had come with the lease.
“Wait here, alright?” Jonathan said, the boy nodding once in response.
With that, he retreated into the small kitchen, looking for some sort of warm beverage.
It was nearly three in the morning now, so coffee was out of the question. He was completely out of the hot chocolate he had bought for whenever Eddie or Harley came over for a visit, so that was out too.
He supposed the only option was his chamomile tea. Did teenagers like tea? He supposed it didn’t really matter, the kid was on the run from his parents in the house of a Gotham rogue. Surely he had bigger things to worry about.
Jonathan made the drinks quickly, leaving the kitchen with two mugs in hand. He gave one to the boy, who looked up at him in surprise, before settling into his own seat.
It was an incredibly comfortable old leather armchair that he had gotten some years ago and stubbornly held onto ever since. He usually had one of the rogues he was at least somewhat friendly with pick it up when he entered Arkham.
Whenever Eddie and Harley were over, they would call it his old man chair, and he would tell them to leave.
The two of them sat quietly for a while, drinking their tea slowly. It was clear that the boy was leaving whatever headspace he had slipped into, becoming more alert (and uncomfortable) by the second.
“So,” Crane began, pausing before speaking more quietly when he saw the boy flinch, “you knew them.”
It was not a question.
The boy nodded, curling in on himself. He held the mug close to his chest, no doubt soothed by the warmth.
“They’ve been following me around for some time now,” Crane continued, “and you’re going to tell me why.”
The boy looked up at him, a pained expression written all over his face.
“You won’t believe me,” he murmured, curling up even further.
His clothes were soaked. Jonathan should have put down a towel before letting him sit down.
“Sure I will,” he said, ignoring the blood and water seeping into his furniture.
The landlord would not be happy.
“It’s gonna sound crazy.”
“I’ve been to Arkham.”
The boy paused, before mumbling something quietly.
“Again? I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said,” the boy huffed, quickly changing his tone when he remembered who he was talking to, “they…think you’re a ghost.”
“A ghost,” Crane repeated flatly.
“I told you it was gonna sound crazy!” The boy protested, before wrapping his arms around himself.
“Well,” Jonathan hummed, “it’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard in Gotham. Explain it to me.”
The boy paused, glancing up at his face, no doubt looking for some sign of mockery. He found none.
Then, he opened his mouth, and explained everything he could.
Ghosts, the portal to another world, the GiW, his parents. It was all incredibly far-fetched, but also far too consistent to be made up on the spot, and Crane could tell that the boy genuinely believed what he was saying.
“…but, if you don’t believe me, fine. I know it probably sounds stupid and fake,” he mumbled, looking away.
“I’ll believe you for now,” Crane said. The boy whipped his head up, staring at him in shock.
“If I do trust that what you’re saying is true, though, then why do I show up on their equipment as a ghost? I’m not dead, and never have been.”
“Um,” the boy hummed, looking somewhat nervous. Understandable, really.
“Well, have you by any chance been involved in any lab accidents recently..?”
Jonathan Crane froze, his face dropping. The boy noticed his change in demeanor, flinching slightly.
“Penguin,” he hissed out, his voice slightly inhuman. “Cobblepot, that motherfucker.”
“Wait—calm down! The angrier you get, the easier you’ll show up on the radar!”
Crane glared down at the boy, seething with rage. He once again flinched, looking away from him. With an extraordinary amount of effort, Jonathan slumped back down in his chair, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself.
When he cracked his eyes back open, the boy was openly staring at him, curiosity written all over his face.
As soon as he noticed Crane looking back at him, he glanced away, straightening in his seat.
“Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about. In the morning, we’re going to discuss this in a lot more detail,” he said, standing up with slow movements. The boy stood as well, hands clasped together.
“For now, though, you’re going to let me take a look at that wound of yours, and then you’re going to take a shower and go to bed.”
The rest of the night went rather quickly.
The boy was rather hesitant to show him his wound, instead assuring him that it had been properly sewn up and that he was fine. Crane was having none of it, though, and gave him a once-over just in case.
It was, very clearly, the kind of cut used during an autopsy. Danny didn’t offer any information, so Crane had to assume that he was either back from the dead, or he had been vivisected. Either was possible in Gotham.
At the very least, Danny hadn’t lied about the stitches, and the wound was already beginning to heal.
With that, Danny showered quickly (he leapt out with a shriek the moment the hot water ran out), and went to bed in borrowed clothes without much complaint.
Thus, Jonathan was left with cold water for his shower, and slept on the still-damp couch so that the boy could have a bed to sleep in. Somehow, he found that he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would.
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mellowwillowy · 3 months
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Posting this dusty boring draft.
Yan! Lawyer Husband: *Holds you by the shoulders* I heard that you have been troubled by someone lately, dear. Care to tell me who?
Spouse Reader: Just... a noisy socialite... she had been getting on my nerves recently, always cornering me...
Yan! Lawyer Husband: ... I heard that she's been fueling the public opinion concerning your involvement in her lover's murder case no?
Spouse Reader: It truly was unfortunate, I was only there as an eye witness but she wouldn't stop herding the public opinion... Hey... I won't be trialed for this right?
Yan! Lawyer Husband: ... (It's hard to say no to that question.) *smiles* even if you are to be trialed for this case, I will be there as your lawyer, do you doubt your husband's capability?
Spouse Reader: Of course not! I know well that you are the best lawyer to ever exist! You've never lost a case no?
Yan! Lawyer Husband: Exactly *pats your head* Now how about you get some rest while I take a look in the files of this case? I think I've gotten a gist of what to do here ^^
Contrary to how he usually deals with things that are related to his spouse, he did not kill the socialite but instead, decided to herd the public opinion just like what the socialite did.
Yulian figured that killing the socialite would do no good and only harm Darling's reputation even more. Alas, he decided to commit strings of fraud that were targeted at the socialite.
While slowly tainting her reputation, Yulian started to fabricate a few pieces of evidence while erasing Darling's record during the day of the crime to minimize the chances of being convicted guilty of this trial.
"Why should the public not suspect you of killing your lover because he knew what you had done?" The woman's face turned red as she clenched her jaw tightly, "What are you trying to say, Adam?"
It didn't take much to flick the domino block down. After all, the months spent on this one case were finally reaching their climax during the third trial. The trial in which the table had turned in favor, was a trial which was won by Yulian.
Upon further investigation, it was revealed that the socialite had been involved in distributing drugs which involved the deceased. The motive of the murder was that the socialite did not want to share the profit with her lover, alas killing him to hold the whole business in her grasp.
"... cliche." You mumbled to yourself as you waited for your husband to finish all the files that had to be submitted. "As expected of a lawyer, serving yet another injustice."
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trashfangirlsworld · 8 days
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Hello! I've been inactive due to the current events in the mcyt community, but I've been keeping up with the qsmp admin situation and I thought I'd share some opinions because the amount of doomposting I've seen the last few weeks has been more than I've seen in any fandom in a while and I feel like it's reached the point where people really need to chill the fuck out because they're not thinking straight and actively not helping. Everything I'm gonna say is based on stuff I've seen on both tumblr and twitter.
they should not promote/release merch! : one of the things that baffles me the most tbh; how do you expect any employee to be payed then? Merch is so far the only big source of income for the server besides q's own cc salary or whatever income they get through the official qsmp channel on twitch and youtube (which I don't think is a lot). "I get that they said they have no funds, but still it doesn't feel right"... sorry but at this point I don't know what to tell you, do you expect them to pull money out of their asses? You can't demand that they stop making merch and then complain that they can't afford the twitter admins at the same time. If you don't feel comfortable buying anything from them it's fine obviously, but if your reason for it is that you're helping the admins then I have bad news for you. I have seen people propose that quackity sets up a patreon, and while I think it would be a good idea, I understand why he's not doing it, since with the merch he can at least give something back to the people that choose to support his project instead of people just giving him money for free, especially with what's happening now. Also with how much hate he's been receiving simply for the merch I can't imagine that a patreon would be recieved well.
we don't know if the money is going to the admins/ they should not use pomme's likeness! : the money is definitely going to go to the employees and admins because otherwise the server would not last. And as much as I understand people feeling protective over pomme's admin, quackity studios is very much allowed to sell merch of the character because it is not the likeness of the admin, it's a minecraft model made by the people that work there. Would you have rathered they skip her character entirely? Do you really think that would have been okay?. Also correct me if I'm wrong, but I've seen posts and tweets saying that pomme's admin has been confirmed to come back with the other eggs whenever it happens by pierre, who talked with her admin.
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the admins of the update accounts got fired, it means they want to fire everyone, they aren't making things better! : it sucks that the updates accounts had to end and I feel bad for every twitter admin that clearly cared a lot about the project, but unfortunately it had to happen if there simply isn't enough money to pay them adequately like they deserved and ultimately the update accounts were not essential to keep the project going, so it makes sense that they were let go unfortunately. This is not gonna be the case for the egg admins because if they got fired (which they didn't), the server would basically end. Just because a cc does not know when they will be back does not mean it's not gonna happen. Just because tubbo randomly said that he's not sure if they will be back does not mean they were fired; tubbo is normally not a reliable source of information, even less so when he's been live nonstop for the past 20 days, which is prior to everything happening. If you genuinely didn't expect a reduction in non essential staff considering everything, then you have unreasonable expectations on how this stuff goes. As I write this, I'm seeing people saying that "they would understand this decision if q had set up a patreon to pay the admins", and once again I don't understand how people don't realize why quackity might not be keen on the idea of having his fans pay his own employees for his own project instead of, you know, doing it himself; and, again, do not fool yourself into thinking it would be recieved well. That being said, it's fair to criticize how everything was communicated to the admins, but I'll get to this in more detail later.
quackity should not have uninstalled social media, he's trying to avoid everything! : he's not avoiding anything, he's been off social media for a while now, which is why it took him that long to remove wilbur from the server. He has every right to not want to look at social media, as his focus should be on restructuring his server instead of doomscrolling on twitter because people think he needs to see how much people dislike him. The only people that he should talk to are those that have important information to tell him, like josè with the document. He explicitly said on stream where to contact him if you have helpful information and I'm sure that despite multiple well liked posts saying not to spam his email, people are definitely doing it anyway, which is probably gonna slow the whole thing down even more. I hope josè's document is able to be seen with pierre's help as well.
quackity studios is not communicating with their employees and leaving them in the dark and that's not okay : I agree with this. i think a huge chunk of doomposting lately has been due the lack of communication not with the audience, but with the admins, and they deserve to know what is happening behind the scenes more then us since this is about their current or future job.... that being said, I do kind of understand why they're being so secretive and shutting everyone out, and that's due to all the "leaks" that have been spread online. I understand the anger but I really wish some people would realize that discussing leaked bts lore stuff in ccs discord servers does not help the situation at all and instead makes it seem like they're only doing this to rile up the fandom against quackity studios by using the lore of people's fav characters.
At the end of the day, I think people just aren't used to dealing with a situation that does not have a clear cut solution and someone to clearly hate, so the result is this doomposting and the over aggressiveness toward anything related to the project. Personally, I haven't witnessed anything that made me lose faith in the qsmp like some people have been saying, as every change that we've seen so far coincides with what quackity said on stream a while ago. I only wish things were communicated properly to the admins clearly, as they're the ones most affected, so I hope that's resolved soon. Ultimately quackity is singlehandedly restructuring the server from basically zero, has had to fire people that were misusing money and power and, depending on what josè's document said, is probably gonna have to fire some more. This is not an easy process, nor a quick one, you're not gonna hear about sunshine and rainbows for a while and doomposting about everything you hear because you expected quick change is useless. Think before you speak, have a clear head and most importantly have empathy.
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darby-rowe · 3 months
Text
୨⎯ "inches of snow" ⎯୧
young!coriolanus snow ☓ fem!reader summary your boyfriend, coriolanus snow, joins you and your family for christmas dinner, but of course it's nothing short of an insufferable experience. but don't worry, because coryo is there to take care of you!
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18+ | nsfw | mdni word count 2,298 cw modern au, coryo & reader are in grad school, it's christmas!!, mentions of food, implied body shaming by family, uh oh grandma and grandpa are being bigoted again, bathroom sex, mirror sex, anal, praise, degradation, sex on the bathroom sink, it's a very anal christmas, coryo has a big dick, ooc(?) coryo, y/n usage, petnames, unprotected sex, spit play, cum play, dirty talk notes i know the title is corny as fuck LMFAO but it made me giggle. also imagine reader in ellen griswold's outift from national lampoon's christmas vacation like the one w the blouse and the green skirt bc mmmmm that fit is FIRE. this fic was slightly based off of this post bc i thought it was just too hot to ignore. this is also NOT proofread so any mistakes you find in this fic... dont talk about it
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Sitting down at the pleasantly decorated dining room table, your mother insisted on saying grace before you and the rest of your family could dig in on the splendid feast you and the rest of the women in your family worked so hard on. Your mouth watered at the thought of savoring the sweet potato casserole, the baked macaroni and cheese, the ham, everything at the table was extremely decadent. And it was all displayed out in front of you, and right under your nose.
You were a bit greedy, you had to admit, as your hands were the first to get a generous scoop of the fluffy mashed potatoes, earning a scoff from your ever-so lovely paternal grandmother. Say something, you old bat, you thought to yourself, but a pleasant hand came running to rescue you from your angry thoughts. A slight squeeze on your left thigh made you blush, and you turned your head to grin at your lovely boyfriend, Coriolanus Snow. He gave you a reassuring nod, and you went back to indulging in your Christmas feast.
“So, Y/N,” your grandmother piped up, pretentiously swishing her glass of wine. “Anything interesting as of late?”
You swallowed your forkful of mashed potatoes and peas. “My third year of med school is kicking my butt,” you said, trying to lighten the hostility between you and your grandmother. “I’m definitely finding myself to have less and less free time–”
“And how do you feel about that?” your grandmother interjected right in the middle of your response, causing your brows to furrow. Her attention was now fully on Coriolanus, which you turned your head to see what his response would be.
Coriolanus huffed amusingly. “I don’t necessarily have an opinion on it,” he said. “I am also quite busy with my master’s degree. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, or however that saying goes,”
“We’re just busy little bees,” you said in a light manner, albeit a bit awkwardly. “It’ll all be worth it in the end. All this hard work will pay off,”
Your grandfather motioned his glass towards Coriolanus. “Busy little bees, eh? Bet it’s harder on you than her,” This statement made you nearly choke on your champagne. The crudeness of that man! Oh, if you didn’t know any better, you would reach across the table and slap the wrinkles off that smug face–
“It’s actually not really that hard to endure,” Coriolanus spoke up. “We both know we’ll see each other again after our busy spells and that thought keeps us going,”
You smiled bitterly at your grandfather. “Exactly,”
The table got quiet after that, and you spent a good few minutes awkwardly sipping your champagne and eating your generous plate. You felt your appetite unfortunately begin to dissipate as the unpleasantness of the evening began sinking underneath your skin.
“You know, mother,” your father chimed in. “My wife and I both met during our residency, and you know firsthand exactly how busy I was during that time. The 100 hour work weeks, the skills labs, the exams, my boards. It was hard! But my beloved and I made it through, and I’m sure Y/N and Coryo will also make it,”
“I just don’t see the need in investing this much time in such a demanding career when your husband is already planning on pursuing a career that would help the both of you,” grandmother said to you, making your face contort into one of immense displeasure.
“Coryo is not my husband, first off,” you retorted. “At least not yet, but I’m also not going to be a stay-at-home mom who spends her days dealing with the dog, the baby, and the garden. I want a fulfilling career, too! I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against stay-at-home mothers, but that life is not for me,”
“Why not?” grandmother knitted her eyebrows together. “Look at you, dear, with that revealing blouse and that pretty face, you don’t need to be pushing yourself like this,”
“Oh my god!” you cried, throwing your hands up. You finally decided you had enough, and with bitterness deep within your soul, you abruptly pushed your chair away from the table and stormed off.
“Watch your mouth, young lady!” your grandmother called out after you. “You weren’t excused!”
“I’m twenty-five years old, grandma, I can excuse myself,” you replied angrily as you traversed upstairs, your heels clicking on the hardwood material.
Slamming the door to the bathroom, you made your way to the bathtub where you sat down on the cold tiles with your knees folded up against your chest. You buried your face in your hands as you breathed in and out. In… and out…
God, you really hated your father’s parents. So judgy and crude, you were only left to wonder why they kept getting invited over to these dinners. Your parents knew how they chastised you, and even with their efforts to put a stop to their bigoted comments, they just kept going and going and going.
You were proud of yourself. You were proud of the life you were building for yourself. Sure, you still had eight years of school left, but at the end of the road you were going to be a kick-ass trauma surgeon. And Coryo was on the fast track to earning his master’s in political science. Soon, he would be running for congress, and the two of you would be unstoppable.
But here you were, practicing breathing exercises on the cold tiles of your parents’ bathroom. You needed to move out of there. Anywhere but there.
Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door and the sweet sound of a familiar voice on the other side. Coriolanus, looking as handsome as ever as he gently let himself into the bathroom, joining you on the floor.
“Hey, bunny,” he cooed, taking your hands in his. “Are you okay?”
You grinned dreamily. “Now that you’re here,” this remark elicited a chuckle from Coriolanus, which made you swoon. “Listen, I have to apologize for my family,”
Coriolanus shook his head. “There’s no need to apologize,” he reassured. “You do not have to say anything. You’re not responsible for their actions, not now, not anytime,” he took your hand and kissed the back of it. “Now, how may I make my sweet girl feel better?”
It didn’t take long before the two of you were on each other like two cannibals competing to see who ripped off the other’s flesh first. Your lips crashed and molded into each other as your warm, wet tongues shoved down each other’s throats in desperate attempts to taste the other’s mouths. Coriolanus tasted like the champagne you planned on indulging yourself with later that night, feeling your mind buzz on the remnants of the alcohol. It ignited your nerves on fire.
It took your breath away when Coriolanus spun you around and pressed you against the bathroom sink, forced to look at the reflection. “Look at you, baby,” he panted, his lips red and swollen from the intense kiss he shared with you just seconds ago. “So fuckin’ pretty and fuckable. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,”
You looked at your reflection in the mirror, your eyes scanning the pathetic, needy look on your face. You gasped slightly as Coriolanus grabbed your jaw, preventing you from looking away. “I want you to look while I fuck you,” he said, pressing his hardened bulge into your backside which made your eyes slightly roll back into your head. “I know that pussy of yours is throbbing for me, hm? Is it, bunny?”
You opened your eyes and looked at the blush that was beginning to appear on your cheeks. “Mmm’yes,” you whined. “Want you so bad, please. But we have to be quiet. Can’t let my family hear us,”
Before you could say anything else, Coriolanus’s hand slapped onto your mouth making your gasps and breaths all muffled. “There’s a solution for you, my dove,” he murmured into your ear. “Now, here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to remove my hand and pull up that pretty little skirt of yours. Then, I’m going take off your panties, then fuck you in the ass. Am I clear?”
You and Coriolanus have indulged in anal before. It wasn’t a common occurrence, but it surely wasn’t unwelcome. Your pussy throbbed with anticipation at the thought of Coryo’s throbbing, hard cock in your tight asshole. You nodded, and he removed his hand from your mouth and cupped it in front of your lips. “Spit in my hand,” he ordered, and you drooled a generous amount of saliva into the palm of his hand.
You could hear his wet hand stroke himself in prep to enter you. With your skirt hiked up and your panties gone, you made sure to relax and breathe as you felt Coriolanus push the tip of his cock into your ass. Your efforts to stay quiet flew out the window as a primal, low groan escaped your throat as your ass became full of his dick.
“Fuuuck…” you groaned, hiking your leg up on the bathroom sink to allow Coriolanus to go deeper. God, it felt so fucking good having his dick deep in your ass. So dirty, and so fucking hot.
In a matter of moments, Coriolanus was thrusting his hips hard and deep inside you, making your mouth fall open in a silent cry of pleasure. You resorted to quiet curses and panting to help you express how good you were feeling in that moment. Goosebumps erupted on your skin. There was a slight sting to being penetrated in the ass, but it wasn’t painful to you. In fact, it only added to the overwhelming pleasure building in your nether regions.
“Such a tight fuckin’ ass,” Coriolanus murmured, grabbing your jaw once again. “Look at you, bunny, so fuckin’ needy for this cock in your ass, yeah?”
You had to be quiet. You needed too. But by god, the sound of Coriolanus speaking pure filth in your ears was insatiable. “Yes,” you growled through gritted teeth, your eyes flicking between your face and Coriolanus’s. “Fuckin’ love your cock in my ass, fuck,”
“Such a naughty girl,” he teased, taking a look down to watch his dick pump in and out of your hole. The sound of your panting and groaning mixed with Coriolanus’s grunts, slightly echoing throughout the bathroom.
You whined as you felt him withdraw from your hole, only for him to spin you around once again and help you on top of the bathroom counter. You willingly spread your legs and watched as Coriolanus re-entered your ass before withdrawing completely once more, and then he repeated these actions again, and again, and again.
“Stop teasing,” you whined, reaching a hand down to play with your pussy only for Coriolanus to swat your hand away, much to your dismay.
Coriolanus pinned both of your hands behind your back. “No touching. You’re going to come from my cock in your ass or you won’t come at all,”
You nodded obediently, your body rocking back and forth in time with his thrusts. You could feel your pussy drooling its juices from how unbelievably aroused you were. It was almost uncomfortable how badly your clit ached to be touched, but you wanted to obey your boyfriend’s orders, so you held back.
“My naughty bunny,” Coriolanus moaned. “Your ass is so tight around my cock. Feels so good. You’re making me feel so – fuck – so fucking good,”
Your mouth fell open as your panting grew more frequent. “Yes, fuck my ass,” you whispered. “Make me come from my ass, baby, please,”
“Are you close, love?”
“Yes, yes – fuck,” you threw your head back as moans threatened to escape your throat, your pleasure only heightened as Coriolanus pressed open-mouthed kisses all along your neck. You were about to come undone from just having his cock in your ass, and it was going to feel so, so good.
“Coming,” you mewled, your legs beginning to shake and the familiar feeling of an itching pulsation deep within your pussy. “Oh god, I’m coming from my ass. Fuck… fuck…!”
In an explosion of pleasure that made you see stars, your orgasm hit you like a truck as your juices gushed out of your pussy. You squeezed your eyes shut and gritted your teeth as it took every fiber of your being to not scream out in pure ecstasy. You continued to squirt all over yourself and Coriolanus’s cock. There was no doubt in your mind that your skirt was ruined.
Coriolanus withdrew from your hole to pump on his own cock until thick, white ropes hit your hole. The sound of his moans and groans pleasantly filled your ears. Your legs were still shaking, and you felt your breath nearly get knocked out of your lungs as you felt his shaft re-enter your ass, fucking his cum into you.
It took a good five minutes before the haze of your orgasm left your brain and you were able to think clearly again. You still sat on the kitchen counter as Coriolanus softly kissed your lips, praising you and telling you how good of a job you did.
“I love you,” you mumbled against his lips, holding his face with your hands.
You felt Coriolanus’s lips tug into a smile. “I know you do, my dove,”
It impressed you how well you cleaned yourself up as you prepared to join your family once again, but as you opened the door of the bathroom, your blood ran cold as you found your older sister waiting outside with a disappointed look on her face.
“Really?” she asked. “During dinner?”
God damnit.
don't be shy, let's talk. ♡
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malfoyswand · 1 year
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𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞
pairing: draco malfoy x reader
summary: draco malfoy pays you a visit in the infirmary after the battle of hogwarts, leading to healing for the both of you.
word count: 1.5k
genre: hurt/comfort, fluff
warnings: none, besides mention of the cruciatus curse being used
➪ masterlist
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You were woken up from your slumber by the feeling of a cold ice pack being pressed upon your head. Sighing softly in relief, you were thankful for the care Madam Pomfrey had provided you these last few hours. 
To be honest, you weren’t entirely sure what led you here. You could remember preparing for the battle against Voldemort and fighting off a few Death Eaters. Then, the world went black. 
Madam Pomfrey had been kind enough to fill you in. According to several students, one of the Death Eaters had used the Cruciatus curse on you. You fell to the ground and hit your head, causing a concussion along the way. The Death Eater had assumed you were dead after using the curse so many times, and left you lying there. 
But still, you don’t remember anything at all. Then again, you were not thinking about fighting off the Death Eaters at the time. Your mind was on something, someone, entirely different. 
“Thank you, Madam Pomfrey.” Your voice harshly spoke out as you winced slightly before opening your eyes. However, it wasn’t Madam Pomfrey holding the ice pack against your head. 
It was none other than Draco Malfoy. 
Only then did you realize the looks both of you, rather him, were getting. Your ears could hear the whispers of classmates besides you, asking each other how Malfoy had the nerve to step into Hogwarts after all his family had done. 
“Are you real?” That was all you could manage to say, oh, how idiotic that must have sounded. But truthfully, you thought this was a dream. 
You hadn’t truly gotten the opportunity to look at him up close for nearly a year, until now. His skin was much paler than before and his hair seemed to shine brightly in the setting sunlight. He looked like an angel who was here to pick you up and carry you away. 
The sound of his laughter drew you from your thoughts. “Even in the aftermath of a war, you still manage to find a joke. That’s talent, (Y/L/N).” 
You wasted no time in sitting up, wrapping your arms tightly around the Slytherin man before you. You weren’t sure if it was more for you or for him. 
“Draco Malfoy! I told you, keep her laying down, or else you’ll be kicked out of here, understand?” Madam Pomfrey wasn’t exactly too pleased with the Malfoy family, or any of the Death Eaters for that matter. In her view, they were the direct cause for every bed in the infirmary to be full. 
“Yes, Madam. My apologies.” Draco spoke softly, as if he was afraid to upset her. He helped you lay back down before sitting on the edge of the bed, keeping the ice pack pressed against your forehead. 
“I know I must be the last person you may want to see right now. But I have a reason I’m here, I swear it.” He continued to speak, his eyes scanning nervously over your face. 
You wouldn’t go that far, but you were confused to see him. You hadn’t spoken to him in almost a year, since the two of you had broken up during the sixth year. You knew he was a Death Eater, and you tried to love him through it. It was only a matter of time before Draco was ordered to eliminate all distractions, including you. 
It had been painful. You knew Draco Malfoy was not the villain of this story, but so many had painted him to be so. He never wanted to try to kill Dumbledore, or to destroy Hogwarts. The school was his home, a place of comfort where he could escape from his family. Unfortunately for the both of you, he had allowed the opinions of others to cause a division in your relationship.
He breathed a sigh of relief once he realized you weren’t going to force him out of the infirmary. “I tried to look for you during the battle, (Y/N). Once we..” He winced slightly at the notion of referring to himself as part of Voldemort’s army. “..were inside the castle, I was looking for you in every room he forced us into. My father became aware of what I was doing, he wouldn’t let me out of his sight to look for you on my own.”
“I should have done more to get free of his grasp, I could have prevented you getting hurt.” His eyes were full of despair and self-hatred as he looked at your head, along with the various bruises along your body. “I was praying to some higher power that I would find you first, not another Death Eater. Merlin, I wish I did. I never-”
He was interrupted by the sound of your own voice. “Draco, please, stop. None of what happened is your fault, okay?”
What he confessed left you speechless, you didn’t quite know what to say. You didn’t think his focus would be on finding you, his ex-girlfriend, during the battle. If anything, his focus should have been on surviving. Why would he even bother searching for you, what would have happened if he did find you?
“But it is!” His voice raised slightly, causing every other patient to turn their heads towards you two. After everyone went back to their conversations, he continued in a softer tone. “It is, don’t you understand? I should have followed my gut and never become a Death Eater. Bloody hell, I should have left my family behind while I’m at it. I would have saved this entire school a lot of pain.”
There was a bit of truth in his statement. In an ideal world, he should have never given into the pressures of his family. But the real world was much more complicated. Deep down, Draco lived to please his parents. He wanted to make them proud of him more than anything, the Malfoy family name survived only on his broad shoulders.
At least, the old Draco cared about the opinions of his parents. You weren’t sure about the one sitting in front of you. This one seemed much more restless and daring. 
The old Draco never would have expressed his feelings and regrets in such a carefree manner, even to those he trusted. He never would have shown up in a place that held much of those regrets, just for a girl he used to date. Nevertheless, he never would have shown up with his platinum blond hair a mess with bags under his eyes. 
“Draco, calm down.” You reached out slowly to place your hand on top of his, your thumb slowly caressing his hand. The movement was a familiar one, it was as if your body simply knew what to do when Draco was upset. Although, it used to be him comforting you. 
A soft smile appeared on his face, his fingers interlocking with yours. His eyes went back up to yours, it was as if he was searching for an answer inside your eyes. You squeezed his hand, telling him in a nonverbal way that everything was going to be fine. 
“This is pathetic. I should be the one comforting you, as you’re the one in a hospital bed.” He spoke, earning him a soft laugh escaping your lips. It was quite ironic, in all fairness. However, seeing Draco processing his feelings openly was a comforting thought. 
“You are comforting me, you know. I was surprised that you came back to see me, after everything.” The silence was heavy for a moment. That ‘everything’ held every moment that happened between the two of you. It held every conversation, every stolen glance, everything both of you were too afraid to say to the other.
He sighed softly, tilting his head to the side. “Even after all this time, you’re still surprised when I do something nice for you. Don’t you understand that I love you?”
His confession made you feel as if your breath was caught in between your throat. If you were honest with yourself, your feelings for Draco Malfoy didn’t stop the moment he left you after becoming a Death Eater. It had continued, as if your love for him was a ghost that wouldn’t leave you alone. It lingered in every room, its presence never faded.
In fact, the one thing you do remember during the battle is searching for him too. While you defended yourself, your mind was only focused on whether he was somewhere in the castle. You wondered how you could escape this situation and take him with you, safe from here. 
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spring that on you, especially right now.” You could faintly hear him cursing himself, you realized you hadn’t even responded to him.
“I love you too.”
That caught his attention. His eyes widened, a glimmer of hope returning to him. A slight smirk then appeared on his face, you could see the tension in his shoulders almost disappear into thin air. 
“Those were four words I thought I would never hear from you again.” He spoke softly, bringing your hand to his lips for a moment. “Now, I want you to rest that pretty head of yours and get better. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Yes, sir.” You laughed softly before closing your eyes. You knew the two of you would have more difficulties to address another day, but for now, the simple joy of Draco sitting by your side gave you an overwhelming sense of peace.
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chronicbeans · 2 months
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Romantic Lucifer x Maladaptive Daydreamer, Sinner Reader
Not me self-projecting or anything 👀. Plus I love the whole "dreamer and broken dreamer" dynamic I can make with this, even if it isn't the same type of dreams. This is based on my own experiences, but I'm trying to make it more generalized lol.
TW: Maladaptive daydreaming, mentions of depression and anxiety, escapism and dissociation, poor self-care from forgetting, fear of disappointment and disappointing others
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• You probably met him at the Hazbin Hotel, to be honest. Normally, he wouldn't even look at a sinner. You're also not outwardly that different, either. The only thing that he might notice is that your eyes always look a bit distant, but he'd probably not question it. Why have a conversation with someone who is not present and in the moment?
• Charlie would have to introduce you, too. As said before, he wouldn't see the reason to talk to someone who doesn't seem to be paying attention. If Charlie wants him to talk to you, though, he'd do so. He wants a closer relationship with his daughter, and if simply introducing himself to you makes her happy, he would! Though, he is shocked to hear you are, according to her, an interesting person to talk to.
• So, he follows her over to you, all while she's saying "(Y/N), this is my dad, Lucifer! Dad, this is (Y/N), a guest at the hotel! They're a bit spacey, but they're trying their best... They're pretty unique, too! I'm sure you both will get along!"
• Once he gets a closer look at you... yes... you're very unique, to say the least. You look a little disheveled, but at the same time, like you're trying to look presentable. The look in your eyes also seems to flicker between paying attention and drifting off into your own head as he talks. When you respond, though, it sounds like you're at least retaining the basic information of the conversation.
• It takes a long time for him to actually become interested in spending time with you. Sure, you're an odd sinner, but still a sinner, and sinners are the worst in his opinion. However, he does visit the hotel every now and again to check in on Charlie in person. He's realized that calling her is not helping them get closer, even if he's still a bit confused as to why, so he's been visiting in person. Over time, he begins to notice odd things you do...
• You usually sit in the lobby, with a few other sinners, but don't talk to them often. Instead, you just sit there, making odd facial expressions every now and then. At first, he just assumed it was you reacting to the conversations the others were having, until he realized many of your expressions don't fit the topics. They'd be talking about exterminations, while you look calm, or about a pleasant event, with you looking sad or angry. Then, they'd be talking about fashion, and you'd look mortified. This sort of behavior interests Lucifer... You aren't like any other sinner he's seen. He, honestly, probably just assumes you're hallucinating or something. He'd rather ask Charlie, though.
• Unfortunately, she doesn't give away much about you. Something along the lines of "not wanting to talk to much about someone's personal problems without their consent", or whatever. He understands, but come on! He's her dad! A little gossip would be better than what he sees as a long silence between them. She does assure him, though, that you are not hallucinating. That, and she pushes him to interact with you, saying that his perception on sinners might change if he talks to some of the ones at the hotel.
• It's something that frustrates him... however, he pushes himself to do so. Anything for Charlie. Though, to him, it feels less like he wants his views to change and more like she's trying to to avoid talking to him. She never calls, after all... He still tries talking to you, though, and every time you seem extremely distant. That same flickering attention and that same disheveled look. Though, you definitely look worse than when Charlie called him to visit the first time, probably because you were caught on a regular day.
• You do make a few interesting statements, though. Mentions of days flying by fast, barely remembering parts of your life, a journal Charlie recommended you begin writing... Now you're getting interesting! Like a little mystery. He wants to figure you out.
• He'll try prying to get you to speak about yourself. What was your life as a human like? What were your sins, or biggest sin? Why do you look so... distant, all the time? Give him an answer! He'll take what he can get, and won't get upset.
• Daydreaming. That's the answer you give for looking distant. You don't really explain your answer, as if it should speak for itself. Though, you do mention that you're aware it's a "big problem", at this point. Dreaming... ugh... He doesn't even like the word, at this point, even if your type of dreaming isn't the same as his.
• You don't seem to want to tell him what you daydream about, outside of saying it's the types of things you can write a book about, instead of a simple self-fulfilling fantasy. You've got him hooked, now. This mystery has shifted gears. No longer is he as interested in you in general. Instead, your dreams are what he must know about. Which, granted, they probably will tell him a lot about you if they're so personal that you won't tell him.
• Whenever he spots you writing, he tries to sneakily look over your shoulder to read it. Usually, though, you spot him walking over before he can even try and close your journal. You do the same when anybody else walks by... except for Charlie. It honestly doesn't surprise him, since most everybody in the hotel seems to trust her, to some extent. He's just so frustrated. He wants to know more, but you won't say a thing, and Charlie won't, either!
• So, he decides to bite the bullet, and ask Charlie for help. Not the answers to his brewing questions, but instead about things you like. Interests the two of you might share with one another. Surprisingly, he learns that you and him share a lot more in common than he'd have expected a sinner to...
•He decides to try to talk to you about music, instead. What types of music do you like? Can you play an instrument? Do you have a favorite song, perhaps? The entire conversation is fascinating. Do you want him to play you a song, sometime? He'll be sure to bring an instrument the next time he visits.
• Once you do, eventually, listen to his music, he's absolutely entrance by the way you react to it. He's never really bothered to take notice of how you react listening to music before, assuming it's just like anyone else. He should've known that wasn't the case. Instead of a smile, or an attentive gaze, you're completely zoned out. Your expression is dull, which he'd normally be offended by, but he's quick to put it all together, now. That distant look isn't necessarily boredom or a disliking of the music... It's a dreamy look. You're daydreaming to his music. It only becomes more obvious once he changes the tones and your expression changes a bit, as if your daydream is changing alongside it. He's seen people dance, he's seen people sing, he's seen many types of reactions to music. However, to sit there and daydream is one he hasn't seen... At least, not so obviously and intensely.
• He doesn't want to embarrass you, so once he finishes playing his song, he won't mention it to you. He'll simply ask if you liked the song or not, then ask why. He'll slightly giggle, though, if you call it something along the lines of "inspiring" or "thought-provoking". A tiny little hint that he's slowly figuring out what is happening.
• Alongside your reactions to music, he does notice other things. Such as how sometimes, when he walks by your room in the hotel, he can hear the sounds of constant footsteps from behind the closed door. Sometimes he even hears tiny whispers, too, which sounds like your voice. Again, he doesn't say a word. If you're so secretive about such things, he won't pry... Which he, himself, is finding a tiny bit odd. He usually doesn't hold a sinner's privacy to such high regard, under the idea that he's King and needs to know what is happening... That, and his own anxieties making him feel the need to know as much as possible... But, for you, he's becoming a bit more aware of how odd that behavior can be when brought to a certain degree.
• So, he waits for you to tell him about it, yourself. And once you do, mentioning your little prancing, pacing, and your slight habit to act out your daydreams, he's ecstatic! For one, he's earned your trust enough for you to tell him such a thing. The other reason is that he has an idea! Why don't you try dressing up as the characters? It'd be an interesting way to engage in it. He's a musical man, he's probably heard of musicals, if not been in one! He could try getting you an outfit. If you don't want to, though, he's fine with it. It might be strange, after all...
• It takes a while, but soon, you both become close friends. Close enough that he's probably talked to you about feeling a bit lost and depressed, feeling very anxious for Charlie's well-being... In which case, he's probably a bit shocked to hear you relay the fact that, similarly, you are lost. Be it you feel depressed and or anxious, as well, or perhaps it's because you can't stop daydreaming. Either way, you let him know you feel similar, and he's shocked. He's always kind of assumed you daydreaming would help you escape from those types of feelings, not contribute to or possibly cause them.
• He listens more to your concerns and worries... and he relates more than he'd like to admit, in certain situations. Dissociation? You both kind of do it, in your own ways. Your daydreaming, you mentioned, might be that. You've never gotten checked, though, because therapists in Hell aren't the best. He knows all too well that he dissociates, from time to time, because Lilith pointed it out to him shortly before she left to do... whatever she's doing. You both forget to take care of yourselves, in your own ways. You daydreaming for so long, causing time to fly, and eventually forgetting whatever you forget... And him working on his rubber ducks to cope, focusing too much, and forgetting to do whatever it is he needed to do.
• He does get worried for you, and you probably get worried for him, as well. However, while he's not so sure about you, he's taking his worries for you and his daughter to try to better himself... Though, with you and him sharing things in common, he sees you as being a big reason to specifically better his mental health while Charlie is his reason to try to be a better father. How can he provide any sort of help to you when he's suffering, himself? Any advice would either, in his opinion, be bad, or be good but seem bad from the hypocrisy of him not following his own advice. So, he's got to help himself, yeah? He can do it all on his own, too! Watch him! He's not going to burden anybody else!
• Yeah, no. He's failed. Now, he feels worse. Luckily, though, you're there for him to go to! He would go to Charlie... But, he doesn't want to burden her with it. Quite frankly, he doesn't want to talk to you, either, but you can at least relate to him a bit. That, and he knows that keeping it all in is a part of what's made him feel horrible. So, again, you have your talks about life together... You mention your problems and he mentions his. You give him advice. Pretty good advice, actually. He gives you small tips on a few things to make life easier. Then, as always, the conversation shifts to happier topics. What made you happy, recently? Did you have any nice food today? Stuff like that.
• Though, one day, you seem to be thinking about something. You look from him, to nothing, then back to him almost on a loop. He simply assumes it's one of your daydreams, and instead speaks about whatever comes to his mind, being patient with you. From how his relationship with his daughter and her girlfriend is going along, how his rubber duck creation is going, to what he thinks of a few of the other guests at the hotel. However, he is a bit shocked when you begin speaking, very suddenly.
• You start talking about a seemingly random daydream you had, recently. Beautiful music, nice outfits, fun dances... You describe a scene of you dancing with someone on a glorious night. However, you don't say who it is you're dancing with. You just describe a beautiful scenario, which is about you dancing with someone. When he asks who it is, after you finish talking, you kind of just stare at him awkwardly.
• It takes him a few moments, then once it hits him, he begins to laugh hysterically in disbelief. No. You couldn't possibly be implying it was him! Once you outright say it, and add that you love him as more than a friend, though, he's both ecstatic and terrified. He feels the same way, yes, but he knows he has his own set of problems he'd be adding into your life if he got with you... And then you start talking about how you are worried you'd make him feel bad, as you know that your daydreams can hype up future events, like dates and such, to an unachievable expectation... then everything is disappointing, despite it being perfectly fine.
• He, however, wants to change that... or, at least your outlook on it. He will happily hold out his hand and admit that he feels the same. He feels the same love for you, the same worries for the future, but that doesn't mean it isn't worth trying. Just because something wasn't to your expectations, doesn't make it bad, yeah? Once you realize that you still had fun, you'll learn to still enjoy your life, even if it'll never live up to your daydreams.
• That's how you two began dating. You're both used to helping each other through rough times, and comforting each other, so there wasn't really a big adjustment period of having to learn to do so. Instead, the first few months were spent on sweet dates, as well as helping you with your daydreams causing expectations that can't be met. As each date goes by, he asks if you had fun, even if it wasn't all you dreamed up to be. As you realize how often you say "yes", you begin to feel much more confident that everything will be fine and doesn't need to be perfect.
• He's gotten into a little habit of planning a secret date or surprise every once in a while. That way, you don't have the chance to build up such high expectations of what it'd be like. You'll come home to see that he's made the most delicious looking dinner buffet, and spread it out over his dining table. Or, you'll come home, and he'll say that he wants to take you out to go dancing somewhere. Small little surprises.
• He's going to make a rubber duckling based on you. Or two. Or three... Or twelve dozen. He can think of so many designs based on your lovely stories. He knows that he shouldn't feed into the habit, and he's actively doing his best not to, but he wants to show you that you can create beautiful artwork with your daydreams. Music, paintings, books, plays... If you find that you can't daydream less, you can try to at least transform them into a real, tangible thing that others can see or hear. His duckies are just an example of that.
• He sometimes wishes he could create something that catches your attention more than your daydreams, but he can also understand that you may not have complete control of it. So, instead, he'll try to gently get your attention if he needs you, just wants your attention, or wants to remind you of something you need to do. Be it a little tap on your shoulder, him calling your name, or walking into your field of view and doing something silly.
• He's sure to check in on you daily, asking if you've been making sure to take care of yourself. Did you eat today? Did you take a shower? Did you drink a glass of water? You gotta stay hydrated! In return, whenever you can, you do the same for him. You both take care of each other as best you can.
• If you're one of those daydreamers who has trouble falling asleep because your brain won't turn off, he'll do whatever he can to at least help you relax. He'll cuddle you, try humming a little soft tune, or get you something to drink to help you relax a little.
• Sometimes, although he'd never admit it, he's a little jealous of your daydreaming. Yes, he's aware the grass is always greener on the other side, and that's why he wouldn't say it. He knows you'll chew him out and reminding him of the issues it's caused you. He can see them, so you don't really have to remind him. He's just... missed the feeling of having such an imaginative mind. Sure, he still has had one. Ever since he was dropped into Hell, it's been a bit harder to do so... then, once Lilith left, it has gotten worse. He's been a bit too depressed to dream...
• Though, he knows that you can dream enough for the both of you, and that you'll happily share ones you think will cheer him up. He loves you for how much you've reminded him of the importance of dreaming... Just, in moderation. He'll be there to ground you, whenever you need it.
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