#I'm sorry but I could talk for hours about these things

[woozihaes]

pairing: sorta s.coups x f!reader, but i'm really just writing this to be funny warnings: hockey!au, but i have no idea what i'm doing or what i'm talking about. notes: inspired by @bfwonu's hockey/figure skater au and the short fic that @97-liners wrote for it.

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hat trick

-

"a bake sale?" seungcheol, captain of the hockey team, has the audacity to laugh. "are you serious?"

"i don't see you coming up with better ideas," you snap, rolling your eyes and slamming your pen on the table of the reserved study room. "i mean, a beefcake calendar? really?"

seungcheol looks personally offended. "you think they won't sell? have you seen my team?"

you shake your head. you had no idea how it was statistically possible that the entire hockey team were probably almost all of the prettiest boys on the varsity roster, but you weren't about admit it. "i'm vetoing this. the boys on the figure skating team aren't going to do this. it's obviously just to show off and stroke the hockey team's members' egos."

"we need money," seungcheol argues, voice rising. "sex sells!"

"we're in college! we're not supposed to be selling sex!" you shriek, horrified.

"just because you're a bunch of prudes—"

you both jump when someone bangs on the door to your room.

"SHUT UP! we're trying to study out here!" someone screams, and you color. seungcheol, for all his cocky bravado, has the decency to do the same.

"sorry!" you say, loud enough for the person to hear, and then whisper-shout, "bake sale!"

"calendar," seungcheol whisper-shouts back, and you know he does it to be petty.

their heads turn when the door opens, and a miffed-looking guy pokes his head in. his hair is shaggy and you can imagine that his canines would be a cute feature of his if he weren't frowning.

"hey, cap, mind lowering the volume?" he asks. "trying to study out here."

"we're just about done here, actually," cheol announces, getting up and gathering his things. "sorry for the noise, mingyu."

mingyu looks surprised, but then withdraws quickly. "oh, okay. thanks, anyway." he shuts the door behind him.

you whirl on seungcheol. "we're not done!"

"yes, we are," he says firmly, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "no bake sale."

you sputter. "then no beefcake calendar!"

"see? done." he's halfway through the door when he winks your way. "let's fight about something else tomorrow."

he's long gone before you muster a response.

-

"this," seungkwan—who seungcheol nominated (threatened?) as event organizer, because of course he'd nominate someone else—declares, "is a terrible idea."

"i think it's wonderful," you chirp merrily. you hold out your hand for the payment the girl next in line seems eager to dump into your hand. "your captain said it himself: sex sells."

"on paper!" seungkwan cries frantically, gesturing to the long, long, long line of ladies awaiting their turn. "this is practically assault!"

your eyes dart to the sign above you. kissing booth. "oh, come off it. it's not that bad. besides, it's not like your captain didn't approve of it."

although it is, you admit, pretty bad. you thought it was a good idea at the time when you kind-of-sort-of predicted a decent turn out (you weren't blind to the hockey team's collective good looks). but at this point, the beefcake calendar would have been a salacious, but ultimately safer, option.

you have no idea what seungcheol was thinking, agreeing to this booth.

"mingyu is missing," seungkwan cries. "he's been gone for half an hour! what if someone kidnapped him?"

you flash him a look. "what are you talking about? he's huge. there's no way they could drag a guy like that off campus."

"my turn!" the girl next in line declared. she didn't even wait for you take the money—she simply dropped it on the table in front of you and whirled on her victim. one of the players—whose name you learned was d.k.—shrieked and sprang into a sprint.

"he should be in track," you comment off-handedly. "see him pump his arms like that? he could easily run the hundred meter without breaking a sweat.

“next!" you call, but find surprise when it's not a girl, but a guy lined up. in fact, it's seungcheol. "um. hi?"

seungkwan blanches. "wait—"

seungcheol rolls his eyes. "calm down, kwan. i'm not in it for the hockey team." he turns to you and raises and eyebrow. "i wanna kiss you."

your jaw drops so fast you're sure you hear a comical, resounding clank. "what?"

seungkwan's jaw does the same.

"come on," cheol says good-naturedly. "if you put my boys through it, i gotta put the figure skating team through it, too."

you sputter, "b-but—"

he rolls is eyes. "seriously, your girls got off scot-free with that bake sale you went behind my back for, by the way," he says with a shake of his head. "have to take my revenge somehow."

you're still not comprehending. "but—!"

he rolls his eyes and pulls out enough bills to cover five times the cost of one kiss. "here. you can't turn me away now."

you swallow. that is a good amount of money... "fine. one kiss."

"i'm paying you," he retorts. "i get to make the rules, no?"

he leans forward and it's so sudden that you jump away. "wait, i'm—"

seungcheol grunts. "oh, for—" and it all happens faster than you can blink.

his hand cups the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair. his mouth slants over yours, and the first thing you think is his lips are warm and soft.

it's a nice kiss. it's a good kiss. and you find yourself—

someone clears their throat very loudly, evidently very annoyed. you try not to think that that's maybe because you were kissing the captain of the hockey team for long enough a time to consider it "sucking face."

you jump away from seungcheol, dazed, blinking away your confusion. the girl behind the hockey captain is practically glaring at the two of you, and seungcheol sheepishly moves to the side.

in a haze, you take her money and she slides away to find her victim (based on the trill shriek off in the distance, you're guessing d.k.'s a crowd favorite).

"well," seungcheol coughs. "um. yeah."

"yeah," you croak, and you feel embarrassed that that's all you can muster.

"i think, um, i think seungkwan left," he says, a little too woodenly for it to be natural. "i'll, uh. i'll—i'll look for him."

"sure," you say, equally as wooden. you don't look after him when he leaves.

"i'm literally right here," seungkwan declares, but you barely hear him over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

#seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #svt fic #scoups x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #svt x reader #svt smut #seventeen smut #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #scoups smut #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic

[pizzapottah]

homecoming

summary: it's been almost three years. can james make up for the lost time?

pairing: james potter x slytherin!slughorn!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 5.4k

warnings: language, injuries, the marauders' usual stupidity....

author's note: oof. this was a whole lot of work. i know this was supposed to be much longer, but there's a specific part (the one about james and reader getting together) that i just could not manage to finish. this can count as last chapter, but if i manage i will finish the other about them being in love and blah blah blah. unfortunately i am in a terrible writer's block so i don't know when or if i'll be able to finish it.

as always, my requests are open, so please feel free to request anything. bridgerton, hotd, got, hp, pjo.... ANYTHING. please help me get out of this writer's block lol. enjoy the reading even if i'm not really satisfied with it and, as always, english is not my first language, so constructive criticism is pleasantly accepted.

runaway | homecoming

James is utterly, unmistakably and without any doubt going to fail Potions. 

It’s not his fault - not really. He doesn’t actually like Potions. He took the class, even after fifth year, for two reasons: his father and Lily Evans. The latter is the same reason why, right now, he’s failing it. 

Fleamont, his father and a renowed potionist, looked so happy when James passed with the grades needed to take the class for the last two years. He didn’t actually think of taking it, but he looked at him like he expected him to do it and- it’s not like his parents ever forced him to do something he didn’t want to, but he was just so happy. James told himself that he could take Potions for just two more years if it meant them being so proud about it. 

Besides, there was Lily Evans in the class. How could he deny himself of even more hours spent in her presence? 

Well, guess what? Slughorn doesn’t grade based on who stares the longest time at Lily, apparently. 

James stares at the burning red T on the parchment of his assignment. Troll. Until now, he thought that this achievement wasn’t within his reach, both because the grade Troll always sounds like an urban legend when other people talk about it and because he never had anything under Acceptable in his assignments. When Sirius hears about this, I’ll never hear the end of it. He didn’t even think Slughorn was able to put less than A, always too kind to his students. 

“Man, what did you do to get Troll?” Marlene whispers beside him, frowning at his paper. James peeks at her test; a green O stands in the same place where his T is. “I suck at Potions, Potter, suck. And my dad surely didn’t invent the Sleekeazy’s Hair potion, so, tell me, did you do it on purpose? There’s no other reasonable explanation.” 

The bell rings; the students immediately get up, happily chatting about the good grades that apparently everyone but him got, and James finds himself putting away his things without the usual vigor, already dreading the time when his friends will inevitably find out. Slughorn approaches him, taking pity for a boy which he saw grow up. 

“Potter, it’s not the end of the world, don’t worry.” he tries to reassure, but his eyes say something else. They say ‘How the hell did you manage to take a T in my class?’ “I’m, erm, I’m sure you’ll be able to get better.” he looks at Lily, on the other side of the class, like he’s trying desperately to help him. “Evans, maybe you could give him some lessons?”

Lily sends an apologetic look at the professor, then a glare at James. “Sorry, professor. I would, but not for him.” She bids him goodbye and exits the class, Snape right after her. As Slughorn turns again to look at his students, he’s clearly concerned. “Merlin, Potter. What did you do to get Evans to hate you?”

He dramatically sighs. “I don’t know, professor. If you happen to find out, please let me know.”

The man sighs, taking out a napkin from his pocket and gently patting his forehead. “You have to get better, Potter. If you fail as a student, that means I fail as a teacher, too. Godric… this is the first Troll of my career. What will your dad think of me if you fail my class?”

James isn’t sure he wants to know. He’s never disappointed his parents before. “We have to find you a tutor, Potter, and a good one. I can’t give you extra lessons, I’m already busy enough as I am…” Yes, with the Slug Club, James almost replies; but then Slughorn looks like he just had the idea of the century.

“But of course!” he exclaims, happy to have found a solution. “My granddaughter!” he says your name, and James suddenly feels like a soldier being sent back to war. “She’s a year younger, but she knows everything, you see, I made sure of it… she’s more understanding of this subject than some licensed potionists out there, she could help you a lot, yes, yes… and you were friends, am I wrong? Good, good, she already knows you, I’m sure she won’t refuse…”

James is actually sure you will refuse. 

Why? Because the last time you ever talked to each other, it ended up with a broken arm, a broken nose and two bruised egos. And even if technically, it wasn’t his fault, it doesn’t mean that your friendship magically mended itself over the years. 

You two never interacted at school after what Remus calls The Accident, not really - the only form of contact you’d had was from Quidditch, where you were both playing as Chasers in your respective Houses, and more often than not during games happened to hit each other in a not-so-fair way. More than often professor McGonagall herself had to reprove him - and not only him, but Sirius too - for playing an unfair game. And when they tried to protest, saying that you surely weren’t innocent either, she just huffed. 

“Miss Slughorn is not my responsibility; she’s professor Slughorn’s, and I’m sure he will make her understand her mistakes and she will not try again. But it is my duty to punish you for your deplorable behavior and lack of sporting spirit!”

It seems like McGonagall’s reprimanding did little, because Quidditch games become carnages. 

It feels like Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry is at its peak, and suddenly the violence reaches the school, too, and hallways are no longer safe from the squabbles of the students. Students who hang each other upside down and constantly cause fights to break out, ruining the usual peace of Hogwarts. 

It looks like the teachers aren't really sure how to handle it. Dumbledore gives a long, heartbreaking speech about friendship, loyalty and helping each other, but it doesn't help much; a search for whoever told Dumbledore about the fights is started between the Houses, with the intention of… well, not making them say anything about it next time. 

It honestly feels like war. Even Hufflepuffs start to attack to avoid being attacked - that's what happens when you constantly get picked on because you don't defend yourself, you guess. 

Nobody is safe, but it's like between Gryffindor and Slytherin there's a feud. It was always there, ever since Godric and Salazar created their Houses, but it's getting out of hand.

The straw that breaks the camel's back is the last game of the year, fought between those two Houses. 

In the first ten minutes, already three players were on the ground and wailing in pain. After a threat to disqualify anyone who dared to cheat from Madame Hooch, the game went on without much problems for a while; that was until James saw the golden snitch. Because apparently, you saw it too.

You both launch at the snitch, who keeps flying, unbothered, and even if you want to make James fall off the broom in the most violent way possible, you're able to hold yourself back. You follow the snitch, almost shoulder to shoulder, hands stretched out to catch the little flying bead.

A quaffle almost cuts your heads off. Thrown off balance, James falters for a moment, slowing down, and gives you some advantage; you clearly see the snitch going under the stands of Ravenclaw, creating a hole in the big banners of the House. You don’t really have time to think - you just go for it. 

You speed towards the banner and tear an ever bigger rip on the poor Ravenclaw flag. James is fast to get back on your tail, though, barely dodging the wood beams that are holding together the structure. And suddenly you’re shoulder to shoulder again - for real, this time  - pushing each other. Hooch can’t see what you’re doing, anyways. 

It takes a moment to adjust to the lack of good lighting, but then you see it: the golden snitch, speeding right in front of you, blinking in the little light, almost mocking you. You hold your hand in front of you, and already can imagine the victory - oh, suck it, Gryffindors-

The snitch takes an abrupt turn, hitting James right on the nose, knocking him out and making him fall from the broom. Except, before he actually falls off, he manages to take a hold of the cloak of your uniform, taking you down with him.

Meanwhile, Madame Hooch notices that not only one, but both Chasers just disappeared in thin air. “Black!” she yells, not really thinking about the fact that there’s two Black in the pitch right now, “Go and tell them to get out from under the stands, dear Merlin…” 

Regulus and Sirius speed at the same time towards the rip on the banner, which now is basically a full-on opening to under the stands, clanking shoulders in the process. 

You don't think you've ever felt pain like this before. Your left arm is throbbing, feeling like it’s going to fall off any minute now, and your head has never hurt so much since you can remember. A sob falls out of your lips before you can hold it in, and suddenly you’re crying out in pain, not really knowing what to do. James is hovering over you the second you start sobbing, worried as you’ve never seen him, taking a hold of your face as gently as he can. Blood is gushing out of his nose, going over his chin and staining both your uniforms. His glasses lay somewhere near, surely broken. 

“What hurts? Is it- oh dear Merlin, your arm, it’s-” well, if not even James, who suffered countless Quidditch injuries over the years, can describe the condition of your arm, then it’s probably not something you’d ever wish upon your worst enemy. 

You try to regain your self-control, even if your sight is blurry from the tears and your voice feels like it’s gone. Then, before you can try to say anything, yells come from the direction in which you both just came.

“I told you, she was looking at me!”

“Yeah, dumbass, like we weren’t side to side when she yelled our surname!” 

“Aren’t you tired of always following me? It’s a miracle you didn’t convince the Hat to put you in Gryffindor, you little rat-”

“Oh, so I’m a rat? What about your friend that literally turns into one?” “I see Snivellus has filled you in with the details-”

“You know, it’s pretty given since one of your friends could possibly hurt us just because the moon is big-”

“Remus wouldn’t hurt a fly, you little shi-”

They both come to a stop once they see you two, looking like a living crime scene, but even then they don’t really stop arguing - they never will, probably. Regulus is by your side in a moment, pushing away James, all the while screaming at his brother. “Why do you always have to be like this? Can’t you just shut up for once, you son of a-” “We’ve got the same parents, dipshit!”

“No we don’t! According to your words, you found me in a dumpster, remember?”

Sirius winces. For what is maybe the first time in years, he looks sorry. “Aw, c’mon now. You know I was kidding.”

“Yeah, yeah, you say that now, but you didn’t tell that to the Gryffindors that started teasing me about it, nor did you try to correct them.” Regulus stares at your arm, who is in an unnatural position, and starts asserting the damage. “Merlin. Can you get up on your own? C’mon, I’ll help you,”

He helps you get up and wipes away your tears, while your sobs reduce to muffled sniffs, and takes your broom from where it fell so that you can return to the pitch. “We’ve gotta take you to the infirmary, it’s not looking good…” he spares a look at James, “And maybe you should visit Madam Pomfrey too, Potter, but if you die from blood loss I’m sure we’ll manage just fine without you.”

As Reg helps you stabilize yourself on the broom and to get back out there, James feels completely numb. 

He once was the one that managed to make you stop crying, that helped you back up on your feet when you fell and scraped your knee. The one you’d look for when you searched for help, comfort or someone to talk to. Now, as he watches you fly away with Regulus, who holds a hand on your back to keep you stable, he barely hears the screams of the students in the stands and the words of Sirius, who’s trying to snap him out of his daze. 

“James? Hey, mate, you okay? You’re covered in blood.”

He barely even sees him - his vision is clouded with tears, tears that he desperately tries to hold back. Taking a deep breath, he collects the remnants of his glasses and takes his broom, knowing that if he talks, he’ll start sobbing. But Sirius doesn’t get the memo. 

“Did she throw you off? I bet she did, but karma has your back. She deserved it, believe me, she had to learn her lesson in a way or another.” James hopes that he stops there, because the guilt’s already eating him alive and he just wants to lie down and let the floor swallow him whole. Hearing Sirius insult you for something you had no fault in doesn’t help the already disastrous situation. But his friend apparently still has many things to say left in his repertory. “She has to be terrible to befriend by brother. Saw how she was crying, like she’s the victim? I swear-”

“Could you please fucking shut that trap, man?” James bursts. “I made her fall, okay? It’s my fault she was hurt. Stop insulting her.”

Sirius glares at him. “What is your problem, man?”

“What is my problem? My problem?” James laughs in disbelief, tears streaming down his face. “My problem is that you always think you know what’s going on, don’t you?” 

His friend is about to reply, but he doesn’t let him. “No you don’t! You have no idea what we went through together, nor what happened between us, nor what person she is! So you have no right to criticize her for everything she does, even when she has no fault in the matter!”

James ends up in the infirmary with a fractured nose, barely two beds away from you, who actually have no intention of talking to him at all, and made sure he knew that. You stayed there a lot more days than him, but your friends visited every time they were able to, bringing sweets and flowers. They also skillfully ignored James, who instead laid there sulking while you got pampered by Lily. 

He did try to talk to you after you were dismissed from the medical ward, at least to say sorry for having broken your arm, but you ignored him with all your might. Regulus became your mediator, always telling him off, never leaving your side when he saw James near.

Him and Sirius didn’t talk for a while, but it didn’t last long. Soon they got back to talking like normal, never addressing the things that were said during that game. Sirius stopped talking about you, going as far as avoiding his brother too to not cause any more damage than he already did. 

He made a last, desperate attempt at your forgiveness by writing you a letter - I know you don’t want to talk to me, but if you ever happen to need a friend, i’ll always be there for you - and sending it to you with his owl.

You never replied. 

That was a year ago, and that’s also why James is sure you’ll say no. 

Except you say yes. 

James is at Sprout’s class when Slughorn knocks and pokes his head in. “I’m sorry, Pomona, could I borrow Potter for a moment?”

Professor Sprout stares disappointed but not surprised at James, motioning for him to go. “You better not have set the Slytherin dormitories on fire again, Potter,” she hisses. Slughorn happily shakes his head, “Ah, don’t worry, Pomona, he still hasn’t done it again, I’m here just to discuss a little something with him.”

Once he’s out of the class, Slughorn happily takes out a letter from his pocket and gives it to him. “My granddaughter agreed to give you lessons, and gave me some days and times that go with her schedule. She’s often busy studying for the O.W.L.s, as you surely know, so it’s a tight fit, but I’m certain you’ll manage.”

James is honestly dumbfounded. All this time ignoring him, acting like he didn’t exist, and suddenly you’re aware of him and his struggles? He must be dreaming. He opens the letter and reads the schedule:

Monday — 18:00 - 19:00

Wednesday — 15:00 - 16:30

Friday — 11:00 - 12:30

Sunday — 13:00 - 15:30

You must have read his weekly schedule, too, because it all strangely fits well with his lessons. Under the voice Sunday, there’s a little note: All lessons will take place in the library, except for Sunday, when we’ll go to professor Slughorn’s class to practice the actual making of the potions. 

The idea of spending so much of his free time making potions is almost revolting, but the thought of making it up to you makes it all worth it. He’ll spend time with you - almost eight hours a week - until his grades are decent enough or you get tired of him. I won’t let it happen, he promises to himself. You won’t get tired of him, and if he has to seal Sirius’ mouth shut to keep you around, then he gladly will.

He comes back to the class with a triumphant smile plastered on his face, making his friends frown - even if no one is more confused than professor Sprout. “Potter, are you alright?” she asks, worriedly. Usually when he got called out of class it was because of some prank gone wrong, so it wasn’t strange for the teachers to just take their time to yell at him. He nods, shining with anticipation. “Never been better, professor.”

“You didn’t set the Slytherin dormitories on fire, did you?”

“Absolutely not, professor.”

“A- alright.”

But it’s only when he notices that James stopped looking at Lily Evans that Sirius actually gets worried. He bumps his shoulder, whispering, “What did Slughorn tell you?” he waves him off, “Nothing important, I’ve got extra lessons in Potions.” He still hasn’t told any of the Marauders about the Troll, and he’s surprised himself on how well he managed to keep the secret. Even more surprised at Marlene for not telling anyone - he’ll probably have to buy her something as a thank you, as she rarely does something for him for free. 

James spends the rest of the week waiting for Monday, often thinking about it with a dreamy look on his face, always making his friends frown and then check if Lily was around. Strangely, more often than not she wasn’t even in the same room.

Monday eventually rolls around, and James has never been happier to enter the library. He may have entered it like, two times since first year, but as of now he’s ready to live in it if it means seeing you more. 

He waits at one of the tables feeling like an idiot, and maybe he is, but also a lucky one. You’re late by almost ten minutes, and he thinks that this may be the first time a girl stands him up. 

But, surprisingly enough, you show up. 

You're with Regulus - and that makes him seethe, but he's ready to make a point of bearing his presence if that's the price to pay to get you back. 

Talking about you; your hands are full of books that stand in a shaky pile leaning on your chest. You're chatting with your friend, your brows furrowed, the strap of your bag almost falling off of your shoulder. You notice James, then, and as he grins, your brows furrow even deeper. You look tired - he’s not really surprised, he remembers the struggle of the O.W.L.s; he’s surprised that you’re able to stand up, as he vividly recalls not being able to do that last year in this same period of time. 

“Potter,” you and Regulus greet at the same time. You let the books fall on the table, huffing, and he interjects, “For you it’s James,” he replies smiling cheerfully. Then he turns to Regulus, frowning, “To you, it is Potter.”

The boy rolls his eyes, “Yeah, that’s what I called you. Even if to me, you’re Dickhead.”

You blink, not amused, at James. “Keep insulting my friends and I’ll do my best to make you fail Potions.”

James lets out a squeal. “Please don’t.”

The first lesson is strange. There’s tension in the air - maybe it’s just the glares that Regulus and James are sending each other the whole time - but it feels refreshing to have your presence near again. You don’t even seem to hate him anymore; you just act… indifferent. You don’t laugh at his jokes, not even when he bashes Sirius - even if he sees Regulus holding himself back from laughing - and just explain everything he did wrong in his assignments to him, explaining some concepts and basics. 

Once the clock ticks to 19 o’clock, you’re already putting your things away, chatting with Regulus about dinner; you barely spare James a glance as you exit the library, He’s feeling lost - suddenly he would like to ask his little self how he would feel about you not being friends with him anymore. He’s sure that eight-years-old James would cry for a week straight and then beg on his knees for forgiveness, and is also sure that you probably wouldn’t have forgiven him nonetheless. 

But that’s okay. He never liked easy challenges. 

If it wasn’t for your grades in Transfiguration, you would have happily let James rot in the depths of Hell. 

When your grandfather asked you to please help the Potter boy, you had been against it. Refusing profusely, like your life depended on it; you promised to yourself you’d never let him back in your life, not after he pulled that stunt on the Quidditch pitch, a stunt of which your grandad is still blissfully unaware of. But then again, Horace Slughorn is still Horace Slughorn, and he pulled one of his many favors like you were one of his prizes on the nightstand. 

One of his many friends is, apparently, the inspector for the Transfiguration trial of the O.W.L.s. He promises that he can make him give you an O on the only subject you’re barely Acceptable in. 

It’s wrong. Maybe. But it would be stupid to pass down an opportunity like this just because of a personal grudge. You’re not ready to ruin your whole grade sheet just by refusing. Because of what? Of a boy? Not happening.

So you have to agree, and your grandfather is eager to shower you in kisses and hugs, gushing about how you saved his career. You’re pretty sure the Troll hurts James more than him, but choose not to say anything about it. You go through your schedule and his - just so that he can’t complain about the time and start arguing with you again - and manage to find some hours where the both of you are free, even if it was pretty hard considering all the study groups you took part of in preparation for the O.W.L.s. 

The first lesson is unbearable. He tried so hard to be funny and he didn’t even understand that to you, he is not. You don’t think he will ever be to you again. Everytime he opened his mouth you just thought about every time that he called you stupid just because you were making friends on your own, friends that he didn’t like. 

You know that sometimes kids say stupid things, wrong things, just because they are kids and don’t really know the real weight of words. Maybe he regretted it, as Remus often tells you; in-fact, despite the bad experience with his friends, Lupin actually became somewhat of a friend to you, sometimes updating you on James’ life. 

(“He broke his ankle going down the stairs,” he told you once. You had snorted, “Really? I wish it was his face.” 

He actually laughed. 

Sometimes you think Remus is too smart for the Marauders; too sensitive to be with friends like them. But you don’t dare to say anything, because if you did, you’d be no better than James.) 

Thankfully on Tuesday there’s no lesson, but you do have a study session with some Ravenclaws to put together Sprout’s notes to try to understand whatever the fuck she taught last lesson. On your way to the garden, it’s actually Remus that stops you. 

He looks terrible. His eyes are red, his hair mussled, and his uniform looks more wrinkled than usual. “Please, just get this over with,” he pleads, and for a moment, you think he’s about to fall to his knees and beg you. You blink. “Get over with what?”

His left eye twitches. “Do you have any idea of what I went through last night, woman?”

You raise an eyebrow at his antics. “No. Should I?” 

He lets out a scream that holds all the stress of sixth year in it, and that makes many students in the hallway turn to glare at him. “Your bloody student! He talked my ear off all night! All night! I didn’t get a blink of sleep, he made sure to usurp my bunk and knew how to keep me there! I have an important test today, and I swear, if I fail it, I’m gonna say to McGonagall that it’s your fault!”

You gasp. “But I didn’t do anything!”

“Well, tell that to James, because he probably hasn’t understood that your lack of response to his jokes isn’t because you’re reminiscing about your friendship, but because you simply don't find them funny!”

You notice something and try to stop him. “Remus-”

“He spent hours talking about how he’s so happy to finally be able to be friends with you again! Hours! I haven’t slept in three days because of my exams and now this! Could you just tell him that you didn’t agree to the lessons because you want to be friends with him again, please?”

“Uh…” the voice comes from behind him and Remus freezes, recognizing James’ voice. Your face is contorted into a frown, knowing that you tried your best to warn him. You don’t care about the fact that he heard that you have no intention of becoming friends with him again; you care about the fact that he has heard one of his friends talking about him like this.

How ironic is it that he warned me so much about my friends, but the first one to dismiss his feelings like that is one of his closest friends? 

Remus pales. James’s usual tan complexion is a bit paler than usual, too; it probably isn’t nice hearing all your thoughts and hopes being screamed in the hallway, for anyone to hear. “James, I…”

But he’s already going the opposite direction, and you’re pretty sure that you saw tears in his eyes. Remus runs after him, spluttering a spring of apologies, and then they both disappear behind the walls of the Castle. 

Pandora, who was near there when Remus started shouting, approaches you. “What happened?”

You sigh. For the first time in years, you feel bad for James - maybe you even pity him. And that is not a good thing. “Dunno, Dora,” you mutter, deep in thought. “Men are strange creatures.”

Xenophilius Lovegood passes by, and Pandora sighs dramatically. “Oh, don’t tell me.” 

You almost expect James not to show up to the lesson the day after, but he does. He does and this time he’s silent, not joking around, only opening his mouth to ask you questions. Now, you do pity him; you know he has really bonded with the Marauders. James is one of those people who manage to be friends with everybody, but not actually friends; he doesn’t bond that easily. He has a lot of acquaintances and knows nearly every student, yes, but he can count on the fingers of his hands the people he actually considers to be his friends.

It’s strange how you know so many things about him, even after all this time. You fear you may never be able to forget them; that James will remain etched on your brain, a stain in your younger years that never managed to go away. 

“I’m sorry about what happened yesterday.” you mutter, not even knowing where the words came from. He looks surprised, not expecting them either from you, not after all that Remus said. 

“Yeah,” he blurts out. “I… should’ve expected it, actually. S’not like you have ever actually shown interest in me after… y’know.”

Your thoughts go back to the letter he wrote you: I know you don’t want to talk to me, but if you ever happen to need a friend, i’ll always be there for you. You know it’s not much, but you think that maybe, just maybe, you can put your grudge away for a moment, just because he really looks like he needs a friend right now, and since Remus at the moment is out of the picture, Peter isn’t really good with these types of things and Sirius is… well, Sirius, maybe you need to step in. 

You hastily get up, going around the table and sitting right beside him. “Remus said things he didn’t think in a moment of stress,” you try to console him. He’s flushed from when you sat down next to him, probably not expecting this move from you, but pleasantly surprised. 

He blinks at you for a moment, and you almost want to take everything back. But then he smiles, a smile so tender that it could melt ice. “You always tried to make me feel better when we were younger, too,” he sniffs. You put a tentative hand on his shoulder, “We can try being friends again, James, and I mean it. But this time the Marauders have to stay out of it. You, of course, can stay friends with them, but you have to understand that I've got friends out of us just as much as you have friends out of us.”

He nods, but then his lower lip trembles and his eyes shine with tears. “You know,” he starts, stammering, “I don’t think anyone gets me like you understood me.”

Of course they don't, you want to say. Something like our friendship happens one time in a lifetime, James. You don’t get to grow up with your best friend every day. James sniffs, “Sirius maybe comes close to it. But I can’t talk to him about you because that’s when he starts to not understand me. Remus… well, I found out yesterday that he actually can’t stand my constant yapping. Peter always looks at me like I’m crazy.” he suddenly looks up, an alarmed look on his face. “Am I? Crazy, I mean.”

You wince. “I mean, you look sane enough to me.” no he doesn't, his eyes are blood-shot and he looks like he hasn't had a moment to relax since yesterday. But you can't just say that to him. “James, I think you rely too much on your friends. Usually it's a good thing - it means you trust them and all - but sometimes you just have to make decisions by yourself. Remus can listen to you all you want, but he can't solve your problems for you.”

You know that him and Remus will probably resolve and then get back to their friendship like nothing happened, but James looks at you with eyes full of unshed tears. He looks like a baby deer. “Are we solved?” 

You melt. “We can be.”

#harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #james potter fanfic #james potter #james potter fanfiction #pizzapottah's writing #james potter x reader #james potter x slytherin!readeer #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #marauders era fanfic #marauders era #james potter imagine

[hanniebaeee]

Bittersweet

Boyfriend Lee Know x fem!reader

Warnings: A lot of crying, pregnancy and child birth, dad! Minho stealing your heart (sorry!)

Genre: angst, fluff

Summary: You feel your boyfriend, Minho, slipping away from you. You love him way too much to leave, but your current situation calls for change.

This wasn't the first time your boyfriend Minho is missing a date with you. In fact this has happened way too many times already and yet here you were, hoping it would be different this time around. But the jokes on you, because Minho wasn't there and you were eating on your own at your favorite cafe. One of the servers was your friend by now and she gave you a sympathetic smile as she placed your order on the table. Blowing the candle out, you ate in silence.

It had started raining heavily by the time you were finished. The cafe wasn't too far from your house and so you had decided to walk. It was pouring cats and dogs now. You didn't have an umbrella, so you tried to wait it out a little. But unfortunately, the rain wasn't planning on stopping.

Just as you were about to step out, the kind server came running with an umbrella.

'Oh no, thank you! How would you get home then?' You asked.

'I still have a couple of hours left here. I'll catch a ride with one of the girls.' She said. 'You get home safe, yeah?'

You nod and take the umbrella from her, thanking her. Stepping out into the freezing rain, you walk to your house as quickly as you can. Even with the umbrella, you were drenched by the time you got home. The cats were asleep in their bed in the living room. It was so quiet and cold, you felt a fit of sobs take over you, crumbling to the floor and crying silently.

You had hoped to find Minho home at least, but sadly, he wasn't. Standing up and walking to your bedroom, you change into dry clothes and get ready for bed.

It was past midnight when you felt the bed dip under his weight. He stayed silently on his side of the bed for a few minutes. He was afraid to approach you after forgetting about your date. Again. But then, you felt his warm body press against your back, his arms wrapping around you. His face is in the crook of your neck. He was crying.

'Minho, it's ok.' You said, even though it really wasn't. But you didn't want to push it. You were too tired.

'I don't deserve you.' He said, his sobs shaking his entire body.

'Hey, hey. Stop that. We'll talk in the morning, ok?' You put your hand over his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. But he cried even more as he realized that you weren't saying all those nice things you usually did.

'Are you leaving me? Is that what it is?' Minho asked, making you face him.

'It doesn't feel like you're in my life anymore, Minho.' You say sadly. 'Especially, now, when I really really need you.'

'I've been struggling a lot with... everything...nothing is going right with me. I'm exhausted all the time. I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me.' Minho said, cupping your cheeks in his hands.

Then he falls silent before asking, 'What do you mean, now?'

'Minho, there is a reason I wanted to meet you today.' You say and Minho stiffens.

'I don't want to be a burden, ok? I'm telling you only because you deserve to know.' You continue, making his eyes well up again. 'Your work is your first priority. I get it. You have worked way too hard to be here now and nothing in the world should take it away from you.'

Minho shakes his head no, but you continue talking.

'I'm just really tired of being caught up in between this.'

'Baby, no. Please, no-' Minho was crying harder now, holding you tightly against his chest. 'I won't let you go. I won't. You're everything to me. I wo-'

'I'm pregnant, Minho.' Your words stun him to silence.

He pulls back to look at you clearly for the first time in a while. You did look really tired and pale.

'What?' Was all he could say.

'Yeah. I didn't know until last week. I was really sick - the nausea, the fatigue, the bloating. I didn't think I was pregnant, until I passed out at work after skipping a meal...I'm around 8 weeks in.' You say, wiping a tear from your eye before it could fall.

'Why didn't you call me?! Oh my god, you passed out??' Minho was sitting up, looking shocked.

'I called. You didn't pick up or call me back. So I told you to clear a day and meet me for dinner. You didn't show up today, did you?'

You weren't angry. That he could've dealt with. You just looked so tired and resigned, it killed him. You sit up and pull your messy hair up into a bun.

'I have made up my mind. I will have my baby with or without your help, Minho. You can walk out right now and I won't fight you. If you wanna help and be a part of our baby's life, that's ok too. But I'm done being left on read and being stood up.' You try to control the sudden surge of tears. 'You have to make up your mind.'

'No no no' Minho pleaded. 'I know that I fucked up ok? But I promise, this would be the last time! I will leave everything for you. But I won't last a day knowing that I won't come home to you again.'

'Minho...please-' You didn't have it in you to take any more disappointment.

'NO!' His voice was loud and it shook with emotion. 'No one is leaving! We're doing this together, understand? I'm going to take care of you and our baby. I'm going to be here for you. Ok?'

'Ok' You whisper, after a pause. 'That's what I want.'

'Ok' he said, cupping your cheeks in his hands. 'That's the only thing I want too.'

He leaned forward and kissed you, both of you crying.

Minho stood by his word, and you didn't find yourself having dinner or going to bed alone again. He was by your side for all your appointments and scans and he cried like a baby as he heard your baby's heartbeat for the first time.

Minho had bought a ring he wanted to propose to you with, years ago. He was just waiting for the right time - but here you were. He never thought your baby would be there to witness the wedding though. He organized a beautiful baby shower for you with just your closest friends and family. And he took this opportunity to propose to you. Of course, you said yes.

When you woke him up one night, slowly telling him that you're in pain and the moisture spilling down down legs is definitely not you just peeing yourself, he shrieked in fright.

Picking up your hospital bag and calling Chan through excited tears, Minho drives you to the hospital. He held your hand, trying to soothe your sobs as contractions ripped through you. Everything was fine until he saw your eyes roll back and you were sweating way too much.

'Too tired, I can't-' you mumble, and he's calling out to you, softly first, then it gets louder and louder before the doctor asks him to step out.

'What? Why? What's going on?' Chan holds his hand, trying to assure him that everything is alright when there is a nurse asking him to sign a form and telling him that you need an emergency C-section. His hands shake as he looks at Chan and then at the nurse, who tells him that you're alright, but you won't be able to push your baby out on your own right now.

He covers his face and cries as he thinks of all the nights you spent alone, the times he ignored you and now here you were, struggling alone yet again.

He stares at the little pink bundle in his arms, his little girl with sweet pink cheeks and lips. But his heart is still tight because he hadn't seen you yet. Later, when he was finally allowed to meet you, he wouldn't let go of you. He clung on like a koala, as Chris held your baby, watching you both with moist eyes.

It killed him to see you in so much pain, and he did everything he could to help you. From taking you to the bathroom, helping you bathe and change your clothes - Minho did everything for you. In fact he hated it when anyone else (his mum or yours) tried to do it for you. He was fiercely protective of you and it made your heart swell with love for him.

He stayed true to his word and he never left you hanging ever again.

A few months later:

You watch as the boys move around the kitchen, busy cooking. It was a free weekend for all and they decided to come and have lunch together. You were ordered to go and chill on the sofa as Minho and the boys handled the cooking.

Minho held your little girl in his arms, laughing at something Hyunjin was saying. Your daughter was fast asleep against her father's chest and he was rocking her gently. His eyes meet yours and he gives you the sweetest smile ever. You smile back at him.

This is everything you've ever wanted. And you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

a/n: I have a thing for dad!skz 💘

#lee know x female reader #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know fluff #lee know smut #lee know #lee know x reader #skz #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz x you

[https-kreideprinz]

Sleepy Confessions Part 2 !

ׂׂૢ Jason Grace

"you finally picked up." Jason's voice leaks through the receiver, slow and tired. his voice makes you smile as you shuffle through the sheets, laying down and closing your eyes. "i did pick up yea..." you whisper, eyes growing heavy with every passing moment. "what did ya wanna talk about." you yawn, stretching as you rub your eyes.

it was so late. what did he need at this god forbidden hour?

"i wanted to talk" he whispered. you merely paused. "we are talking Jason." you say plainly and you can hear him groan softly. "no- well yea- but that... 's not what i meant. i want to talk. about us. about this... thing that we’re doing." he whispered, and you frowned. "what thing?" you said softly.

yea you two were bickering... flirting... throwing longing gazes across the room when the other wasn’t looking… but it was all platonic right? you thought it was. that Jason was messing with you. that your dreams of holding him, kissing him.

loving him.

devoting your soul to loving him.

was nothing that just that. a dream. and now really wasn’t the best time to ask. you were so tired you could barely keep your eyes open. Jason mumbles something inaudible on the other end. "what?" you call out, fighting the soft wave of sleep that threatens to take over your mind. straining to hear what he wants you to know. something so important it could only happen mere minutes before Apollo drove through the sky with his chariot, bathing you – and the rest of camp in a soft warmth of the morning sun.

"I think I like you." 

ׂׂૢ Leo Valdez

an obnoxious tapping pulled you way from your peaceful slumber. there's only one person who you are one hundred percent sure would pull a stunt so annoying at four in the morning.

grumbling you slide the window open. "what do you want Valdez!" you shout. Leo merely grins, shrugging as he slides into your bedroom. "i can't see my favourite person?" he grins and you let out a groan of pure annoyance. "not at four in the fucking morning Valdez! what is so important that you have to ruin my sleep for it?!" you seethe, crossing your arms.

Leo hums, plopping himself on-top of your bed, tossing pillows aside to make room for him. "can't sleep. thinking about something." he said plainly. as if that made it all better. "want do you want me to do about it Leo."

the boy in question runs a hand through his hair and shrugs. "cuddle?" he looks up at you with gleaming eyes, the kind of look he knows will get you do to whatever he asked you to. with a defeated sigh you slip under the covers letting Leo curl right up against your side, letting him rub his face against the sheets of you bed and sigh contently. "i'm sorry if i bother you." he whispers. "i really can't sleep unless you're near." his voice sounds slightly defeated. like he's ashamed of it.

you shrug. "it's ok. no harm done." you mumble and he smiles. "thanks... hey can i... tell t you something?" he whispers, meeting your eyes. "go for it." you nod and Leo takes in shaky breath.

"I think I'm in love with you."

Taglist: @thementallyunwellapollochild

#x reader #percy jackson #pjo #x yn #hoo #jason grace x gn! reader #jason grace x Ari #book percy jackson #jason grace pjo #jason grace x reader #Percy Jackson and the olympians #Pjo series #Pjo show #Percy Jackson show #jason grace x you #pjo series #percy jackson fic #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo imagine #pjoverse #percy jackson imagine #percy jackon and the olympians #leo valdez #leo x reader #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #☕ . . . flash brew! . .

[aven7toru]

🔹️ ;; " stay with me, i don't want you to leave. "

satoru gojo x reader oneshot (?) ♡

contains ; suggestive, gn reader, partying, drinking / alcohol, romance, swearing >_<

a/n ; I MISS GOJO SO MUCH. first time doing this plz be nice aaaaaa, not proofread i did this at like 3 in the morning... (this is self indulgent)

Gojo Satoru was not above one-night stands. Sometimes— no, most of the time, the stress of being the strongest sorcerer and also the loneliness that came with it after Suguru left him would take its toll on him. So to distract himself from it, to just feel anything, he'd show up to a party, bar, whatever. He'd take someone home, have a fast one then dip in the morning. No strings attached. Like a hit-and-run, but less literal. It had turn into a habit... flirt, fuck, flee, repeat. Anything to fill the void Suguru left.

That was up until he met you.

Gojo had just recently finished up with a troublesome mission, so he had plenty more free-time to mess around. After walking through the bustling streets of the city of Tokyo, He found himself in the same bar he had visited so many times before, nonchalantly ordering drinks he knew he'd regret downing as a lightweight. Guilty pleasure. As Satoru was only just starting to sip his drink, someone had entered the bar. Someone who immediately caught his eye.

That certain someone, of course, was you.

You were celebrating with your friends since one of them had recently gotten promoted, and decided to take a gander at the drinks of a nearby bar naturally.

His blue eyes followed your silhouette, chin in his palm. He didn't wanna seem like a creep but god, who could blame him. You were the prettiest person he had ever seen, and well, he just couldn't resist as he left the various shotglasses had paid for unattended, to talk to you.

" Excuse me, sorry to intrude but do you mind if I buy you a drink ? "

Satoru spoke with the softest tone he could, of course with his trademark smirk that would make anyone fold. Intently taking in the sight of you, making it clear who he was speaking to. Your friends nudged you and before you could even say anything they spoke for you, rushing you along. 'come on [y/n] ! it'll be good for you.'

Well.. it wasn't like you would decline anyway, after all how could anyone? Pretty snow-like hair, hypnotic blue eyes hidden behind pitchblack glasses, honeyed tone and certainly a charming man... also, he was paying. You went for it.

" Ah... sure, why not ? "

You smiled at him, getting out of your seat as you eyed your companions snickering with eachother as they sent you off. The both of you then sat down nearby the shots he ordered earlier.

" [y/n] , " he spoke your assumed name, basing that assumption off what your friends called you just a few seconds ago. " I'm guessing that's your name? Pretty, if so. " He's said those same words so many times to so many other people, the only difference being the names he'd refer them as. You gave him a shy nod as well as a giggle.

" Mhm, what's yours? I think it's only fair if I know your name.. right? " You chided playfully, although internally cringing at your own words... you weren't really used to things such as this.

"Gojo Satoru. Feel free to call me what you like, as long as you call me." he replied with a wink, arms rested on the counter with his head resting on them. Oddly, as you chuckled, Satoru couldn't help but feel a small tingle that spread throughout his body, giving him goosebumps... He wasn't so sure what it was, but honestly, he didn't bother thinking about it.

" Gojo... I like it. "

Your small talk turned into longer and deeper conversations in the span of a few hours and the both of you grew comfortable, to the point he subconsciously had turned off infinity just at your sheer aura. Taking shots and drunkenly giggling with one another.. Satoru hadn't had this much fun with anyone ever since he was a 2nd year, and oddly enough you reminded him of those days. Your friends figured you were safe in his company. Eventually they informed you that they would be leaving due to how late it was and asked if you wanted to go back with them, but you stayed. Saying you'd either find a taxi or walk home—

Oh, you stayed? He wasn't sure why it made his heart beat out of his chest, why it made him perk up...

He didn't think much of it.

" Ah.. are you sure [y/n]? It's pretty late... it's alright if you go, you know."

" Oh, no, it's okay. I actually want to stay. "

...but, maybe he should've.

Your friends exchanged their goodbyes with you and they went back to their respective homes... now it was only you two. Satoru stared. Drinking in the sight of you and ending up with this weird admiration for you. It was incredibly unusual for him to feel such things about someone he had thought would just be another person at the bar, let alone someone he barely knows yet. Satoru didn't like how dangerously close to the sun he was getting. So he ignored it.

"...right, right."

During the time you spent together, that lingering, hollow feeling of loneliness of his... fades away. And eventually enough, safe to say he's taking you back to his place after the various shots. Speaking softly, he asks you: "Do... do you wanna go to my place?" the alcohol taking the wheel for this one question... he cursed himself for being such a lightweight.

First time he's ever felt shy whenever asking someone to head to his place.

Satoru tipped the bartender and walked out the bar with you at his side. Dizzy, ushering you inside the car the moment he gets the attention of a taxi... driving back to his place.

He wasn't a stranger to this type of thing. Satoru has of course done this many times before and yet... why were his palms so sweaty? He felt so uncomfortable, not because of you but because of himself. Unsure where to put his hands—

You held them.

All the way back to his house.

He didn't know how to feel.

The moment the both of you were in the privacy of his house, your lips interlocked with eachother's. Scary. This is scary. He doesn't understand why. The esteemed Gojo Satoru, he who fought the most anxiety-inducing battles and won, and he's won a lot. And yet still, so scared of losing.

'This is just a one night thing,' he thinks, he lies. How could the strongest sorcerer let himself get so weak?... for a non-sorcerer no less. Roughly 20 minutes into making out, he's taking you to his room. Messy and unorganized.. but navigatable.

'Gojo–' you say breathlessly inbetween kisses. His heart melts. Satoru's eyes bore into yours, stopping the kiss briefly.

" It's okay, call me Satoru, " he says, sitting at the edge of his mattress. Urging you to sit down.. and so, you do so. Straddling him. You swear you heard his breath hitch. He wasn't sure what made this time different from all the other times. But honestly... why would he think about that when he had you right there? He could feel your warm breath hitting his lips. Reeks of whiskey... but it's comforting.

" G–..Satoru, is this... just a one-night thing? " You asked the same question he had been asking himself all evening. His rule of no-strings-attached slowly blurred into wires tangled together.

"...just stay long enough to find out, sweetheart."

Well, this was gonna be a long night.

#gojo satoru #x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen #oneshot #gojo x gn!reader #gojo x gender neutral reader #jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x gn!reader #first fic

[koolades-world]

Hi! Congrats on the 2k!

Can I request prompt 33. It’s your favourite, right? and 37. what're you doing out here at this hour? With beel. Maybe they just started dating, and they are trying to figure out the relationship resulting in a cute fluff moment 🫶🫶

thank you! was very fun to write :)

sorry it was kinda short! i just kind of write until i'm happy with the results and this one just happened to be a little shorter

enjoy <3

prompts 33 and 37 w/ Beel

Getting into a relationship is usually exciting for both parties. It can be the start of something new, or the revival of something old. Either way, attempting to navigate it could be tough. It was a commitment on both ends of the relationship, something you and Beel were both ready for. That didn’t make it less nerve wracking though.

Initally, when you got together, you tried to continue things how they were before, but you quickly discovered his brothers could and would shove themselves between the two of you when they could. That started the two of you spending much more time with just the two of you together. Occasionally, Belphie would be present since most of what he does is nap. This led to you joining him on his workouts and late night snack runs. It became something you greatly treasured. As much as you loved the brothers, you loved the alone time you got to spend with Beel.

The two of you knew each other decently well before you got together, but once you finally did, neither of you knew how to act. It’d probably take you a while to just be yourselves again, because you were just eager to present your best self for the other, but that didn’t meant the two of you didn’t have fun. At the stage in your relationship, you were finally warming up to each other and growing more comfortable with each other again, and as of lately, you’d spent your evenings together cuddling. It was beginning to grow late and dinner was finished, so you went to the sofa, where you usually met. You waited for a while, but he was nowhere to be found. You decided to go searchisng for him, since you’d grown to really enjoy your little routine.

After checking his usual spots, and asking around, you still couldn’t find him. So, before you decided to call him, you decided to take a quick step outside into the garden and front yard. You knew you might get scolded, but it wasn’t like you were wandering the streets searching for him. he wasn’t in the garden, but it seemed you’d made perfect timing and was able to catch him walking up the path to the front door.

“Beel! What’re you doing out here at this hour?” You held the door open for him, and after locking it behind you, you gave him a hug.

“I was craving something we didn’t have in the house.” He took your hand with his free one and led you over to the living room to show you all the things he got. Among several bags of chips and a couple drinks, you saw a couple things that didn’t match the rest. He set those aside from the rest of his things, and happily told you about what he’d gotten and why. Once he was finished talking, he handed you the out of place snacks and drink, and started eating.

“What is this for?” You tilted your head, turning over the snacks in your hand.

“It’s your favorite, right? I saw them and thought of you. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I got something for myself, and not you?” He smiled at you, and you felt as if you would melt at the gesture. You lent in and brushed some crumbs off face tenderly.

“Thank you. This is probably the most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me.” You held his face in your hands for a moment, studying his features. Despite what others might say, everything about him was kind to you. He gave you a small smile at your words.

“Next time, we can go together.” Food was Beel’s love language, and you could see your time in the small convenience store around the corner become yet another beloved nightly ritual of yours.

“Sounds great.” He held up a chip to your face, silently offering you one. You accepted it, feeling the love transferred between the two of you with that. At first you’d viewed your time in the Devildom as something of a problem, but with Beel by your side, you never wanted your time together to end. You might be a human and he might be a demon, but he really cared, and that’s all that mattered to you

#if any of you kept up with my wuthering waves saga #i did not get jiyan :( lost my 50/50 #still trying to grind to get him but he goes away tomorrow evening... i can hope haha #2k followers special #obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me beel #omswd #obey me beelzebub #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

[deerlino]

lost and found.

bang chan x fem!reader / you and chan are about to get married, but the day before the wedding, he just disappears. there’s a note on your bed, and from that point on, everything goes downhill.

additional tags / angst, hurt-comfort, emotional turmoil, wedding jitters, cold feet, open ending, love confessions, pre-wedding drama, visuals (text messages, letter), apologies — 963 words in total.

content warnings / abandonment, lack of communication, commitment issues, panic and anxiety (subtle), facing fears (fear of the future ?), some strong language (cussing), chan’s kind of an asshole (😅)

further notes / writing angst is so much fun, seriously my fave genre ever. 😝 been all about the fluffy stuff lately, but i had to dive back into my roots and whip up some tasty pre-wedding angst. what do you think? i'm totally loving it, heheh. hope you enjoy the ride! <3

The day before your wedding, you can’t help but feel a buzz of excitement and nervousness. You've waited for this moment for so long, and now it's almost here. You and Chan have been inseparable since you met, and tomorrow was supposed to be the start of your forever. But when you wake up that morning, something feels off.

You stretch out your hand, expecting to find Chan beside you, but the bed is cold. Frowning, you sit up, scanning the room for any sign of him. That’s when you see it—a note on his pillow. Your heart sinks as you reach for it, hands trembling.

You stare at the words, not comprehending. Had to leave? What does that even mean? Panic starts to rise in your chest as you read the note over and over again, hoping it will magically change or offer some explanation. But it doesn’t.

You grab your phone and dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Chan, what the hell is going on? Where are you? Call me back, please,” you plead, trying to keep your voice steady.

Hours pass, and still no word from Chan. You call his friends, his family, anyone who might know where he is, but no one has seen him. Every minute feels like an eternity, and the worry is gnawing at your insides.

By afternoon, your concern turns to anger. How could he do this to you? The day before your wedding, no less. You pace the living room, clutching your phone, willing it to ring. When it finally does, you almost drop it in your haste to answer.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” It’s Chan’s voice, but it sounds strained.

“Chan! Where are you? What’s going on?” The questions spill out before you can stop them.

“I... I’m sorry, Y/N. I just... I need some time to think.”

“Think? About what? We’re getting married tomorrow!”

There’s a long pause, and you can hear him take a deep breath. “I know. I just... I’m not sure if I’m ready.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Not ready? Are you fucking kidding me, Chan? We’ve been planning this for months! Why are you doing this now?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says quietly.

“Well, guess what? You did hurt me. A lot. And you could’ve talked to me instead of just disappearing.”

“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, but it feels hollow. “I just... I need to figure some things out.”

You hang up, tears streaming down your face. Why would he do this to you? You feel a mix of hurt and rage, your emotions swinging wildly. Part of you wants to find him and demand answers, while another part of you just wants to curl up and cry.

The rest of the day is a blur. You cancel the rehearsal dinner, making up excuses for why Chan isn’t there. Your friends and family try to comfort you, but nothing they say can ease the pain.

That night, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment you’ve shared with Chan. You wonder where it all went wrong. Was it something you did? Something you said? The uncertainty is maddening.

The next morning, you wake up to a flurry of text messages. One stands out—it’s from Chan.

You hesitate, fingers hovering over the screen. Part of you wants to ignore him, to make him feel the pain you’re feeling. But the other part of you needs answers.

You arrive at the little park where you and Chan have shared so many memories. He’s sitting on the bench, looking more miserable than you’ve ever seen him. When he sees you, he stands up, but you hold up a hand to stop him.

“Just... explain,” you say, keeping your distance.

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been freaking out, Y/N. The thought of forever, it just... it scared me. I started doubting everything, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

“So you ran away instead? That’s real mature, Chan.”

“I know, I know. It was stupid. But I love you, and the idea of losing you terrified me even more.”

You can see the sincerity in his eyes, but the hurt is still too fresh. “You could’ve talked to me. We could’ve worked through it together.”

He nods, looking down. “I’m sorry. I should’ve. I was just so scared of disappointing you, of not being enough.”

You step closer, your anger softening a little. “Chan, we’re supposed to be a team. If you’re scared or unsure, you need to tell me. We face things together, remember?”

He looks up, tears in his eyes. “I remember. And I’m so sorry I forgot that. I promise, I’ll never run away again.”

You take a deep breath, the weight of the past day starting to lift. “This isn’t going to be easy, you know. We’ve got a lot to talk about, and it’s going to take time to rebuild that trust.”

“I know. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he says, stepping closer.

You nod, feeling a small glimmer of hope. “Okay. Let’s start with talking.”

You spend the next few hours sitting on that bench, talking about everything. The doubts, the fears, the future. It’s raw and emotional, but it’s also healing. By the end of it, you both feel a bit lighter.

When you finally stand up, Chan reaches for your hand. “So, about that wedding...”

You give him a small smile. “Let’s take it one day at a time. We’ll get there when we’re both ready.”

And for the first time since you found that note, you believe it.

© deerlino (est. 110624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

#bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #chan x reader #bang chan angst #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #bang chan x you #stray kids x you #bang chan imagines #bang chan scenarios #bang chan fanfic #stray kids texts #bang chan texts #chan texts #*writing #skz angst #stray kids angst #chan angst #angst

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.128 Fired

We arrived at home late that night loaded down with more gifts than the nursery could hold. If we received one more thing, we'd have to start a warehouse in the empty bedroom. We got so much stuff, we could probably support six more babies, heh. Baby girl could use a different towel every day of the week for the rest of her childhood. We had enough shampoo and lotion to last the rest of her life, it seemed like. If one day she entered a nobody loves me phase, I'll be sure to remind her of this scene.

Sophia had never been a busybody and always took a more relaxed approach to life, but I was glad to see her following the doctor's orders. She spent a lot of time on our balcony, rocking in the chair early morning, thinking about whatever expecting mothers think about. Sometimes I'd catch her reading on the couch. Seeing her take the warning seriously made me feel good about leaving her alone for a few hours to visit Maira. I thought about it in the shower, and visiting her before the baby was born was the move. Who knew when I'd be able to spend quality time with her after that.

Like I always, I began our conversation with an apology, but she didn't fault me, of course. She said it wouldn't have been right for me to neglect all my guests to hang with her all afternoon. That was true, but I still didn't like that she was alone all day. She assured me that she was okay, so I asked about her brother.

"He died in a fire," she said.

"Oh, gosh! I'm so sorry, Maira."

I never liked him, but he didn't deserve to die like that.

"Knowing he's not here anymore is its own challenge, but what makes it worse is when I think about the fire, I often think about us."

I swallowed a few times because I knew exactly where she was going, and it made me nervous.

"I think about how you held me when you realized I was okay and what we both felt."

I couldn't move or even blink and sat there, holding my breath, hoping she wasn't about to pull a Yasmine on me. Finding good friends had been a long journey, and I felt like I had a nice inner circle now. I didn't want to lose Maira because of her feelings for me. I also didn't need her digging things back up because I had worked hard to let that go.

"Sometimes I think about that moment and I wish I would have given in," she continued. "We could have tried to see if we would work. I imagine myself married to you and pregnant with your baby. My parents would finally be proud of me."

I wanted to stop her from talking so she wouldn't say something that would ruin our friendship, but I was frozen. This was a mistake. I wanted to be a better friend, but we couldn't be alone together anymore.

"All of that is nice to think about," she continued, "but I would be miserable. And you would get fed up with me. We wouldn't be friends anymore. Life turned out exactly how it was supposed to, and I wouldn't change a thing. I like how we are, and I like my life. It's just lonely sometimes, and I wonder if I'm missing out on something."

I exhaled the breath I held and blinked, finally. I could keep my friend. As uncomfortable as that was to hear, I loved that we were able to be that honest with each other. That's true friendship right there.

"Everyone has their own opinions about what you should be doing with your life, so I don't think there's a right or wrong answer for that," I said. "I think as long as you're happy with your life, no one else's opinion matters."

"Yeah. You're right. That's what I say to myself. But you know how it is."

"Yeah. It's a battlefield up there."

"Seriously."

"So...there's no one you're interested in right now?" I asked, trying to pivot the conversation...and maybe be a tiny bit nosy.

"No, and it's all your fault. You ruined me!"

"Me? How??"

"You set the bar way too high! No one else can measure up!"

"Oh please. I'm sure there's plenty of guys out there who are way better catches than me."

"I assure you, there aren't."

"I don't believe that for a second. Ooh, I should set you up with my friend Justin."

"That guy who comes to all your parties? He's kinda cute. What's up with him?"

"He's a landscaper and lives in San Myshuno. He comes from a big family just like you and is a good man...a bit older than us, but at least he won't bother you about children."

"Oh-my-Watcher you're trying to set me up with an OLD man??"

"He's not that old...I think."

"You are officially fired from matchmaking, thank you!"

I missed our banter. It felt good to laugh with her again. Hopefully, she would let someone into her life soon. She didn't need a man, but it was obvious she wanted some kind of companionship, and I was not the man for the job. Besides, she deserved to be loved and cherished, and I wanted to see her happy for once.

"The baby will be here in a couple of days, huh?" she asked.

"Sure will. I can't wait to meet her."

"So, is this the first of many, or..."

I sighed, realizing this would be the first time I admitted this out loud.

"She might be it for us. At least if we want more, we'll have to adopt."

"Whaaat?"

"Yeah. We went through a lot to get her. Sophia says she doesn't want to do it again."

"Are you cool with adoption?"

"Oh yeah, totally. You know Sophia's adopted, right?"

"Really? I don't think I knew that. It's funny...I've known her almost my whole life, but I've never really known her until now."

Was it bad that I often forgot she and Rashidah were sisters? They rarely spoke of each other, and Sophia and Rashidah seemed closer than the sisters.

"Yeah, she is," I said. "And she's got quite a story. But yeah... We're both open to it, but actually doing it is another story."

"Well, whatever happens, I'm glad you two are finally getting your family. I can't wait to meet your kid!"

"Oh yeah? I thought you didn't like children."

"I never said that! I don't want my own children; I love the auntie life! I think my first order of business will be teaching her forbidden words!"

"Oh Watcher. Here we go."

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #maira watson #sophia aguilar #justin really is that old bro lol #mccc needs to hook her up!

[wallabywhump]

I may or may not scream at the screen every time I see the final chapter of you have my heart isn’t up yet 🥺🥺🥺🥺

I'm so sorry it's not up yet 😭😭😭

It's not on purpose, I had a lot of it finished, and plans to upload Sunday/Monday, but I've ended up having to rework and rewrite a *lot* of the chapter.

Full disclosure: I wasn't originally going to include what Buck and Tommy fully fought about, other than little hints and flashbacks (it would be flavour for my notes).

But I was writing and one of my friends asked if they could know the whole fight, and I ended up swinging into writing everything, which had a knock on affect on the whole fic, and then I wanted to add in more because I had more of the fight.

One thing led to another. 😅

I've written over 10k words in a 24 hour period lmao

I sent the first half of a fic to a lovely volunteer ( @tommykinardfan thank you so much) to check I'm on track this evening, and she has reassured me it's looking good so far!

(But also, the first half was 7.5k, so 😭😭🤣)

I am *fairly confident* in saying it will be up by the end of this week!

Please accept this pre-editing snippet as payment for my late posting! (I'll put it under a read only just in case people want to hold out for the full chapter!)

***

“You didn’t have to come over,” Tommy says, when he enters his living room and sees Eddie sitting on his phone.  

Eddie scoffs. “Yeah, okay.” Eddie doesn’t look up from his phone but does hold up a bottle of water behind his head, waving it in Tommy’s general direction. “I feel like you would have ended up drowning in your toilet if I hadn’t come.”

Tommy snatches the water with more force than necessary. “I’m not a charity case,” Tommy growls. “I was drunk, and called you because…” Tommy trails off, and Eddie leans his head back on the sofa to look up at him.

“Because you were in a crisis?” Eddie asks. “Because you needed someone to talk to? Because, and feel free to tell me if I’m off the mark, you trust me?” Eddie flutters his eyelashes and smiles.

Tommy uncaps the water and starts gulping it down. “Don’t flatter yourself, you’re just the first one who picked up.”

Eddie coos and rolls his eyes. “You called me.” He’s saying it like it’s an achievement.

And maybe it is. Tommy didn’t call anyone last time, he locked himself away and expected people’s lives to carry on without him in them, easily removed. Eddie hadn’t let him leave, and this time when the sky had fallen, Eddie had been the first friend he wanted to call.

Not that he’s going to admit that to Eddie when he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face. “And I won’t do it again, I didn’t know you’d come and dad me.”

“I did not dad you, this was…friendship responsibilities.”

Tommy drops down onto the couch, sinking into it with a sigh. The shower has woken him up some, and brushing his teeth has removed the taste of alcohol (and Evan) from his mouth, and the water has helped his throat feel less like death.

“Thanks,” Tommy mutters, letting down his defensive walls finally. “For doing this.”

“You called me,” Eddie repeats, and this time there’s a depth of emotion behind it that Tommy can recognise as patience, worry, love.   

Tommy sits there, picking at the label on the water bottle, and waits for Eddie to inevitably ask what happened. Now he hasn’t got the buzz of alcohol, or the heat of adrenaline, or the apathy of shock, he doesn’t think he can say it without Eddie asking.

Tommy spends so much of his time being vulnerable, baring his belly without being asked, trying to make everyone else feel safe and heard around him – Tommy can’t make himself do it right now.

Eddie sighs, and Tommy tenses.

“What happened?” Eddie asks. “On the phone you were more slur than sense, so I didn’t catch much. When did you and Buck get back together?”  

“We didn’t,” Tommy says.

Eddie raises an eyebrow which clearly means, ‘want to try that again?’

“We were at a party. It was a good day, and it was a quiet moment.” Quieter at least, they’d been alone, tucked away from the world. Tommy stares at the bottle in his hands. “He said ‘we never said it’s over.’” Tommy wets his lips. “And then, he called me his boyfriend. We kissed about it.”

It had been perfect, settling Tommy in his skin, coming home, feeling alive.

Followed by an ice chill and his heart being ripped apart.

“And then he ran away. Crying. And won’t answer my texts, or my calls. So, fucked that up, didn’t I?”

Eddie hums. “Sounds like you both fucked that up.”

#bucktommy fic #bucktommy snippet #bucktommy #kinley fic #kinley snippet #wally replies #kinley #asked and answered #wallabywrites

[eyexella]

HEART OF DOUBT

angst, sad ending, paigebueckers x oc

Nailea James had always found small talk exhausting. She much preferred meaningful conversations, ones where you could feel a genuine connection. So, when she found herself with Paige Bueckers last night, she felt a spark that had been missing in her life for so long. They had laughed, shared dreams, and for a moment, Nailea believed she had found someone who understood her.

The morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. Nailea turned over in bed, expecting to find Paige beside her. Instead, she found an empty space. She reached for her phone, heart racing, and sent a quick text: "Hey, where are you?"

Minutes felt like hours as she waited for a reply. When her phone finally buzzed, it was a short message: "Sorry, had to go early. Talk later."

Nailea frowned. The warmth and connection of last night seemed distant now. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. She decided to confront it head-on, needing clarity.

That evening, Nailea invited Paige over. When Paige arrived, she was greeted by a forced smile from Nailea. They settled on the couch, and the silence between them was thick with unspoken words.

"Last night was amazing," Nailea began, trying to sound casual but feeling anything but. "But today… it feels different. Did something change?"

Paige looked down, fidgeting with her hands. "No, nothing changed. I had a great time too."

"But?" Nailea pressed.

Paige sighed. "It's complicated, Nailea. I'm all in, but sometimes I get scared. I don't want to mess this up."

Nailea felt a pang in her chest. "Then why does it feel like you're pulling away? You say you're all in, but your actions don't match your words. If you're looking at me with a heart of doubt, don't kiss me right now. Don't tell me you need me if you don't mean it."

Paige looked up, tears brimming in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to hurt you. It's just… I don't know if I can be the person you need me to be. Sometimes, I'm all in, and other times, I feel like I'm on the edge, unsure of what to do."

"Then be honest with me," Nailea pleaded. "Don't run me 'round and 'round. I can't take it."

The tension in the room was palpable. Paige reached out, but Nailea pulled back. "Don't," she whispered. "Don't kiss me if you don't mean it."

Paige's hand hovered in the air before she let it fall. "I care about you, Nailea. I really do. But I need time to figure things out."

Nailea's heart broke a little more with each word. "I can't keep doing this, Paige. I need someone who knows what they want."

Paige nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I understand. I'm sorry I can't be that person right now."

Nailea stood, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort. "I think it's best if you go."

Paige lingered for a moment before turning to leave. As she reached the door, she paused. "I'm really sorry, Nailea. I hope you find someone who can give you everything you deserve."

Nailea watched as Paige walked away, her heart shattering with each step Paige took. The silence of the room was deafening once she was alone. She sat back down on the couch, hugging a pillow close, tears streaming down her face.

She knew she had done the right thing by asking Paige to leave. She deserved someone who was all in, someone who wouldn't make her doubt their feelings. But the pain of losing what could have been was overwhelming.

Days turned into weeks, and Nailea tried to move on. She surrounded herself with friends and focused on her passions, but the memory of Paige lingered. She often found herself staring at her phone, wishing for a message that would never come.

One evening, as she walked home, she found herself near Paige's apartment. She hesitated, then turned away, knowing it was best to let go. As she walked away, she whispered to the wind, "If you don't mean it, don't kiss me right now."

And with that, she let the tears fall, accepting that some love stories are meant to teach us lessons, even if they leave us heartbroken in the end.

#paige bueckers #paige x reader #paige buckets #wnba basketball #angst #sadgirl #uconn wbb #Spotify

[flowerytale]

Hey! You're been one of my favorite blogs ever for a long time! 💖

I could be mistaken but I believe you had an ask or a post long ago where you recommended some poets / poetry books. I can't seem to find it though. Will you please direct me to it if there's such a thing or even write out some recommendations if it isn't too much trouble? I'm planning on ordering some books and I was looking forward to maybe getting some poetry and you seem like the best guide for it!

First of all thank you so much for your kind words, it means a lot to me🫀 (this is my answer about italian authors)

I'm currently on my lunch break in a very crowded place, I swear I'm gonna try my best to remember (most of) the poets I love: Louise Glück, Margaret Atwood, Sharon Olds, Emily Dickinson, Ada Limón, Li-Young Lee, Forugh Farrokhzad, Mahmoud Darwish, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Mary Oliver, Alice Walker, Frank O'Hara, Aimee Nezhukumatathil, Stevie Smith, Carol Ann Duffy, Fernando Pessoa, Anne Carson, T. S. Eliot and of course the romantic poets✨the Big Six✨ introduced me to poetry from other countries when I was like 12. I remember that at school we -of course- studied italian romantic poets (my professor was OBSESSED with Alessandro Manzoni) but she only mentioned Sturm und Drang (that was before the actual romantic movement, like a proto-romantic with a lot of similar ideals) and other countries romantic era. I was so pissed that I think I've read everything about it lol I'm also very lucky because I live in Rome, and I went to the Keats-Shelley memorial house as soon as I could. I also think that no one wanted to know this story, I'm sorry. By the way my suggestion is: since buy books can be very expensive (especially if you are like me, I basically only buy physical books and that's the main reason why I ended up with books in my wardrobe and under my bed) and if you are new to poetry, try to read something online and then if you like the author you can buy a collection of his/hers/theirs works; like for example Devotions by Mary Oliver, maybe it's not complete but it's such a good start!

I hope that this can help you, and please ignore my ramblings🫀

#when I get questions like this I just wish I could talk about this in person #when I answer here I always feel like it's too much or too little #especially because I ramble too much #I'm sorry but I could talk for hours about these things #like the time my parents took me to visit the Vittoriale degli Italiani #and my professor got so angry with them #because we hadn't studied yet 20th century Italian writers #personally I would have been so happy and proud to have a student with so much passion #but no #she was so convinced that a 12yo wanted to steal her job...ok lol #ask

[wattemeer]

kitties

#my art #rylan #the quarry #ryan erzahler #dylan lenivy #miles robbins #holds this into the camera like a beauty guru showing the product they are using #oh I'm watching miles play stray and it is the most precious thing #the way he gets excited over the kitties!!! I'm weak #i could fall in love with him #i will not but i could #he and his stupid bright smile and his stupid cute bunny teeth and his stupid dimples and the stupid way his cheeks blush and #his stupid brown eyes I'm ill #sorry #i also watched all the bright places with justice smith the other day and i cried the entire second half of the film #i cried for about an hour I'm not exaggerating #watching more movies in a single month than i did in the last two years I'm not a big movie person #i love miles acting btw he always seems like he's just hanging out like he's too real sometimes I'm like is this acting??? it's so funny #i can't explain maybe it's just me #anyways sorry idk why I'm talking about this

[rotisseries]

Haunting

Will Byers + Strangers by Ethel Cain

@bylerween2023 | Day 1: Ghosts & Hauntings

unfortunately, it's not looking like my fic for bylerween will be done in time to share today, so I'm sharing the graphic that would have gone with it! strangers is one of my favorite songs, it's very haunting and very will coded, and I felt that it fit for the theme lol. the larger fic idea is that will did die in the upside down, and when mike goes to visit the now abandoned byers house, he sees will's ghost. hoping I can finish it by the november 22nd deadline🫡

#mike after being metaphorically haunted for years and now it's literal:😃😃😃 #strangers is not a song about ghosts but also it is. to the enlightened mind. I get it. ask me i could talk about it #hope this is ghostly enough for the theme #the background thing behind will also has ghosts if that helps. that's blue ghostly artwork #stranger things #byler #bylerween2023 #will byers #day 1 #ghosts & hauntings #tw implied death #also sorry this is more just a will thing and doesn't really have mike lmao. testing the limits on what is a byler post #saw bylerween rb a gifset that just had will though so I hope I'm correct in assuming it's ok if it's got a stronger focus #on only one of them #ok I'm done talking now I am overthinking this everyone enjoy i slaved for hours in picsart like a loser without photoshop #happy bylerween everyone!!

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! Another work tip for you: If you are on the phone with the person who is your point of contact at a business and you want to swear about them after the call, make sure you hang up BEFORE you start swearing. Like. Double check you actually hung up This work tip brought to you by the contractor who thought he'd hung up but didn't and the incredibly awkward silence after he started swearing when I said "Are you aware you haven't hung up yet?"

#the person behind the yarn #tj talks about work #he called me all kinds of colorful names #because when I emailed him 'I'm sorry I can't assign you to that job for today it requires 24 hours notice' #and he replied 'I understand ty' #he somehow took that email to mean he could start today????? #like dude. no. I specifically told you you can't #the thing that you need to do to do the job is not at the location it needs to be #because we have not given the 24 hour notice #I told you IN WRITING that you can't #and then you tried to tell me on the phone that I said you can pick it up today???? #as if I forgot ???? or as if I can't just look at the email again? #I know what I wrote man I have it in writing that's kind of how it works

[averlym]

whshdfhfjf.,,,

#close up!! because i firstly Did Not render them with such insanity in order for tumblr's lack of general resolution to make it blur #look at all the lines!!! teehee i still really really like this style of digital painting it's super super fun to do!!! and also secondly #because i went back and added a tag ramble and as i seem to often be doing??? lately?? reached the 30 tag limit and went 'hm ok how else..' #anyway the tag essay on that one is now up and talks about the artwork generally and miscellaneous thoughts!! that said. i need a space to #ramble about beatrix at Length because look you don't draw and paint etc a character for like ten hours without having a lot of thoughts #anyways ! i digress terrifically. tag rambles are more like trains of thoughts masquerading as subways and you get on and it's unfortunately #a rollercoaster track. but this is My Blog and i can do Whatever I Want as long as i don't hurt anyone <- affirmations!! also Harm Principle #lately it's been like *kicks up feet* *opens tumblr tags* *treats it as own personal journal* and tbh Good for me!! anyways back to beatrix #fun fact ! the thing that pushed me over the edge to go watch the musical after looking through the tumblr tag was a very specific poll. #and the fact that the winning option was blue hair and pronouns made me double over laughing so hard i had to go see the source material #mm i feel like lately the academic Context has been tossing me essentially into a blender HAHA ;-; so everyone in adamandi is to some extent #a Mood. but bea-specific (haha be specific)(sorry!)(wow this is the same reaction mechanism of my friend who points out innuendos)(...) #i think it's the wanting to prove herself. like from the whole abuela etc thing there's proof here she's got a Stable Support System of sort #and instead what beatrix continues to do is push themselves. 'i guess u could say i'm married to my work? god that's depressing' // no one #here to enforce that // abuela tells me to rest says i'm constantly stressed and i'll just get depressed like before but i still have to try #like. that shred of desperation that pushes you to the brink to neglect yourself (well i guess physically but also your morals..) and like!! #the whole 'lose half your soul thing' proves she's self aware!! like they know what they're doing is super dubious yknow! but they're still #they're still doing it even if it goes into conflict with their morality system in a way and then they justify it to themselves (see pt 1 #of ghostwriter) and the whole wanting to achieve at all costs Despite the self awareness. (i think? this aspect also applied to quincy. but #thoughts on him will come later). more beatrix specific also is the fact that they genuinely adore their work.. 'i just love it here where #you know they'll be printing forever and you are just part of it' because that does kind of resonate with me. also the being behind in the #competition is real!!! i'm maybe talking about Art as a subject because that same drive for it exists on my good days i think. even #even when nothing seems to be going right and you've ended up at the back the intent passion inherent in what you do is still there!!! #the genuine. care she has for reporting. is so !!!!! to me... other beatrix thoughts include 'why reveal yourself at the end' aka vincent's #'u should have stayed silent u had a smart plan' like rip to them but i would not // it feels with bea's complex character i can't imagine h #her Not doing that. like the guilt is real i guess. and i am running out of tags but! smth also about her fervent hope or smth that she'll #eventually get to where she wants. and the resilient determination.. 'i won't let their deaths be pointless there's more good i'm gonna do' #they're so so real for that. i'm not sure if it's a good or bad thing; seeing myself reflected in aspects of characters like this.. but it's #it's there regardless. smth smth just make your peace with the person you are ig!! tldr beatrix campbell my beloved. hehe #adamandi

[here-there-were-dragons]

The modern term, "dragon", does not in actuality derive from draconic common language* at all, but instead has it's roots in an archaic long-dead beastclan tongue.... 's misinterpretation of a word from the very earliest variants of earth flight's equally long-dead archaic tongue.

The ancient earth flight word, Dûnhag (Dune-haug, rolled slightly in a growly sort of way), the precise translation of which has long since been lost*, was the name of one of the earliest ancient breeds of dragon, and the first draconic civilization to emerge from within the cradle of greatwyrm's breach. in the very earliest days of interaction between the newborn dragonkind and the beastclan civilizations of the day this ancient breed's name was interpreted by the common languages of the beastclan societies who first encountered them (who's vocal cords were not precisely up to the task of imitating quite all of the sounds a giant growling predatory quadruped elemental death-lizard can make, much like many dragon breeds have their own sounds that other breeds find difficult to imitate themselves-for example ridgebacks' signature cetacean-like "zipper noises") as "Drohag" (Droe-haug), further misinterpreted not as the name of that breed (as intended) but instead a blanket term for all creatures of their general category of shape.

the ancient beastclan language in question quickly appended the suffix " 'an" (pronounced like a cross between the word "on" and the sound "ahn" , and roughly translating to something along the lines of "-people" or "-race") to this sound, resulting in Drohag'an. So when these first-contacted beastclan peoples went out to the rest of the world to tell them of these strange new Drogah'an people they had encountered, that was the name what would become dragonkind became known to them by.

In the early days of dragonkind, there was no agreed upon unified name for all among their kindred. The ancient breeds, as biologically and culturally separate and at odds as they were, saw eachother to be as fundamentally distinct from eachother as modern dragonkind sees themselves to be from beastclans. Each ancient breed an entire "dragonkind" unto their own-and "breed" in those days meaning something more akin to what users on the forum out-of-universe would call "subspecies" and "linebreaking terts". Gaolers to their own and Banescales to their own and Undertides to their own and so on, each of those names as all-encompassing a description of a class of being as "dragon" itself to their respective holders. to the ancients of the time, "gaoler" and "banescale" were not just names of breeds, but entire distinct species that shared no common nature. there was, in effect, no dragonkind, and therefore, no unified name. why would they need one? it would be like calling apes and elephants and dolphins and octopi the same, just because they're all intelligent.

Tens of thousands of years of history-the rise and fall of civilizations, creation and extinction of many breeds, the drifting of language and the death of nearly every one of these ancestor tongues that had come before-later, modern dragonkind began to view themselves less as disparate unrelated entities at fundamental odds and more as something of a shared clade, and eventually as one single species of many morphologies. Rather than use the existing name of one of the many breeds of the time, or make up and somehow collectively agree on (using "papyrus scrolls carried by trade caravans" levels of communication technology) a new word to describe themselves as a collective, they simply began, almost entirely unthinkingly out of pure simple casual convenience, to simply adopt the term-it's meaning long forgotten, it's origin in two long-dead languages of civilizations equally long-gone- the beastfolk often called them all as a category already- Dragon.

*modern draconic common language is a trade-tongue derived from the most dominant language spoken by the people of wind flight, spread out by their traveling traders and merchants in the early days of the beginnings of more shall we say cooperation and travel-friendly relations between flight societies, and adopted for convenience of trade by the many population centers they did business with.

*Some scholars have suggested the possibility that Dûnhag may have been an ancient name for the ancient genetic progenitor breed to what in modern times has become the Dusthide breed (the actual, in-universe, non-translated-to-english name of which is actually "Dûsaah'ad" or "Dûsaah'ad'a", which also does not originate from or have meaning in the modern dragon common tongue), meaning the modern words would share ancient roots with the origin of the word "dragon" itself. Other scholars dispute that just because two things sound similar doesn't mean they necessarily have anything to do with eachother.

#flight rising #flight rising headcanons #the û is taken from “khazad-dûm” and is mean to be pronounced the same as it is there #i'm sorry i want to use diacritic properly but every single time i've tried researching it i've come away even more confused than i was #i simply have no goddamned idea what anyone's talking about when they say things like “pronunciation should be shifted to the front” #if anyone knows a good diacritic mark that could cause “hag” to be pronounced as “haug” please let me know #i made up literally all of these names and words on the spot and i came up with this entire idea less than an hour ago #and wrote it down more or less right as i was coming up with it #so this is a straight up first draft basically #also disclaimer i am not a linguist and i know FUCKALL about linguistics #i have completely bullshitted this entire thing lol i have no idea what i'm talking about #and yes the 's DO have a purpose i did NOT just put them in there to look cool