#and theyre the ones who only have positive things to say and think this is an epic win or something

[novembermorgon]

How do you feel about all of King Jaehaerys' daughters? 👀

all of them... WHEW ! heres a saera to break up the text block

i'm admittedly not the biggest fan of many of the pre-dance targs . not in the sense that i dislike them it's just that i've never been all that invested in their characters the same way i am, say, the dunk and egg era ones ... but theyre fun! i think all of jaehaerys kids are definitely really interesting by default on account of being born to a guy who people in-universe tend to praise very highly only for him to turn out a shitty horrible dad that fucks you over for the sole crime of being born as his child. lets take them in order! (it's been a while since i read fire and blood now so bear with me . might have missed or forgotten stuff ...)

daenerys ... to me she's kind of a victim of grrm seeming to kill off a lot of female characters specifically because they don't have that much of a role in the story. sort of a nothing-girlie unfortunately . i do think it's interesting that alysanne went to jaehaerys with the hope of daenerys being heir as the then-eldest child- sort of a harrowing premonition of his treatment of his future daughters. i wish we got more on her.

alyssa is fun! i think she's one of the stronger (in terms of writing quality) of jaehaerys kids, at least early on. she does end up, again, kind of suffering from grrms writing in the sense that she starts having children and suddenly almost loses that .. spirit ..? of her character ..? if that makes sense. i feel that he fumbled a little bit with wrapping her story up and once again falls into the pit of 'women who die in childbirth just because'. not to say i inherently mind that conclusion to a female character's story.. i think it's necessary in a universe like asoiaf to portray the difficulties that come with pregnancy and how that changes a person, but it often feels like a bit of a crutch in asoiaf to write a female character out of the story . other people have had more eloquent critiques of her character than me. but overall she's up there in the ranking for me :-)

maegelle is one of my favourites if only because she hits on a lot of notes i like in asoiaf! being a septa she kind of escapes a bit of the family horror that her sisters has to endure - but that also means she has to watch it from afar. alyssa, daella and viserra all die in relatively quick succession and she's not in any real position to do anything about it. even having escaped the family terrors you are still a victim of them etc. i like that she's got a bit of an attitude lol even though she's clearly a very compassionate kind person ('This is foolish, Father. Rhaenys is to be married next year, and it should be a great occasion. She will want all of us there, including both you and Mother. The archmaesters call you the Conciliator, I have heard. It is time that you conciliated.') - and her ending i think is very tragic, but in an almost sweet way. caring for children that most others are repulsed by, selfless to the end ... i like her.

daella is just tragic. other people have said more than i could ever about her but to me her marriage is truly one of the most horrific things that jaehaerys ever did in part because it's just so simple and not-so-dramatic. he tells alysanne that daella has to be married at the end of the year and she is. she's excited to be a mother to the children he already has. she's happy, despite the horrific situation she's put in - only to be doomed to die after a pregnancy where she has to beg her mother to come see her out fo fear. so terrible. makes my heart ache.

saera... there's a lot you could say about saera. inherently i'm a little bit opposed to stanning on the basis of the optics of prostitution in asoiaf and what it means for her to become a brothel proprietor in a city where there are five slaves to every free man - you can definitely critique her but she IS exceptionally interesting and i do like her. such a character. i feel like her defiance of her father gives such a good insight into how terrible jaehaerys was as a father- even in a book so almost distanced from its characters (in that it's a history book) you can really feel the frustration both of her parents and of saera herself and it really does make for good family drama. i feel bad for her just as i feel that she falls into the pitfall of the endless, vicious cycle that drives forward so many of the themes in asoiaf. delicious and horrifying . i wish we got to know more details about her children and what happened to her during the dance

viserra... ohhh. she might be my number one! right after the saera situation i feel like viserra, in the eyes of her parents, was almost like a reflection of her sister. there were many reasons for them marrying her off (none of which were good) but i think there really is that bite of saera leaving just a year earlier that stings in the back of their minds. just as with all these girls she's tragic and so very interesting and i wish we got to understand her better. trying to 'seduce' baelon is such a harrowing thought - like a cry for help, a need for somebody, anybody to save her from the same fate as almost all her sisters and grandmothers and great-grandmothers before her. it's horrifying to be a woman in westeros and no matter how loudly she cried for an out, nobody would give it to her. she was only fifteen when she died! how horrific is that! her last ride is such a terrible terrible visual to me. she deserved better and nobody around her was there for her in any regard. jaehaerys alysanne baelon i will haunt you for the rest of time.

gael.. :-( there's not much Here but for what it's worth she does intrigue me. the story of her and the mystery bard seducing her... i want to know more!! her mother dying just a year after losing her last daughter - so, so tragic. i think ive said this way too many times now. i don't know. what a horrible collection of fates. jaehaerys you will burn.

#txt #asks #asoiaf #im not tagging them all sorry #a song of ice and fire #saera targaryen #saera

[sonknuxadow]

I’m honestly surprised that people are saying Keanu reeves is a bad choice despite the popular fan discussions about it. Where I’m at in the internet, he’s considered a good choice and people were excited.

i cant speak for everyone obviously but ive always thought he was a bad choice for shadow ever since the idea started going around 2 years ago. because from what ive heard personally he doesnt really sound like shadow + i hate it when big movie stars are given voice acting roles in movie adaptations just to have a big name attached to the project even if theyre not good for the role. and this definitely feels like that. back in the day people were only saying he should be shadow NOT because his voice actually fits but because hes an edgy action guy or whatever and movie sonic is canonically a fan of him/his movies and they could make jokes out of that. and i feel like thats Still what a lot of peoples reasoning is which annoys me because shadow isnt just an edgy action guy and i dont think his voice should be chosen based on a joke of all things especially if the voice isnt fitting enough to justify it

not gonna say my opinion is the most popular but i know that there are a lot of people who agree with me on this, or at the very least are unsure about it. a lot of people dont want him

#i also have to wonder how many people who wanted keanu or are excited about the supposed casting are actual sonic fans ....? #like im not trying to gatekeep or say anybody whos said he'd be a good fit is a fake fan or whatever #but . ive seen a lottt of dedicated sonic fans and people who are very familiar with shadow say they hate this #in fact most if not all people ive seen saying theyhate it are in that category #and ive also seen a lot of people whos interest in sonic ranges from very very casual to practically nonexistent comment on this too #and theyre the ones who only have positive things to say and think this is an epic win or something #so i have to wonder how popular a choice it is among not so casual sonic fans. particularly ones who really like shadow #compared to how popular a choice it is among the general internet #and not to be mean but i honestly think that actual fans' opinions matter more than random internet users' with this sort of thing lmao #asks #i suppose theres no way to know for certain right now if his voice would fit #since theres no clips of him specifically doing the voice that he would give to shadow #but. from what i personally have heard. he doesnt sound like shadow to me #not even in a ''different take than what im used to but still fits the character'' kind of way. just doenst work at all

[sanstropfremir]

what do you think makes a well balanced group. your kepler ask mentions how skills and personality is important but is there a secret formula that you think is most potent. there are groups where each member is good at a specific thing, and groups where every member is equally skilled in dancing and singing. on one hand, if a group has the dynamic where everyone is equally skilled in all aspects it may make them lackluster. but would it be appropriate if say, 1 member is a weak dancer and the strongest vocalist and vice versa the same group has a strong dancer and weak vocal. maybe this dynamic would work in a small group, but not a large one? the trouble with large groups being, if all members have the same skills no one pays attention to them, or there will always be a standout member of a large group because realistically a group with 6 members and up cant be equally skilled with z e r o quirks or differences

well. this is kind of a multi-faceted answer, because although i don't think there's a specific 'secret formula' for a perfect group, kpop already has a structure that members get slotted into that actually does work. so yes, but also no? it's complicated.

so the whole system of assigned positions is essentially the formula that makes a well balanced group. that's literally the point of each of the positions; they're there in order to organize the roles so the group is balanced. now, do companies get it right all the time? no. do fans agree with it? absolutely not. but that IS what it's there for, and, in my opinion, it does work. most of the time. i think it's stupid and naive for fans to argue for equal line distribution yadda yadda because being a vocal is not going to be everyone's strong point. a main vocal SHOULD have the majority of the singing, that's their job. a main dancer SHOULD be leading dance breaks etc, that's their job. and an assigned centre SHOULD be in centre position, because they're there to be the hook. i've talked about how centre position is important before so i won't hash over that again, but my point is that those assigned positions aren't random, they're there in order to establish a balance within a group, so that people know what your place is. it's a job description.

however, those are just general positions, and obviously not every person and group has the same distribution of skills. what actually makes a balanced group is the people in that group understanding that they need to be balanced. no group is ever going to have the same interpersonal or skill related dynamics, but if all the members understand the parts they play and work together to fill in gaps and create a unified image, that's what makes the whole thing work.

of course this also feeds into my own personal beliefs about group composition, which i think are probably uncommon: i don't think there should be any large groups at all. five is the perfect size, seven is fine, nine is the MAXIMUM. groups larger than that have difficulty maintaining focal points and also have a higher likelihood of having filler members who may be able to keep up technically, but don't do much other than bolster numbers. everyone jokes about nct being too big, but the reality is that nct almost never promotes with more than nine members in a subunit, because sm intimately knows that if a group gets too big, it gets messy. you keep the member numbers down, and all those members have more of an equal reason to be there, even if it's not 'equal' in the songs or performances. there's a lot of other things that idols do that require different skills that aren't used in performance, and those are distributed differently depending on the group.

obvs none of these are hard and fast rules, and often a lot of groups settle into shapes that go beyond their 'job descriptions' and that's fine, because they're usually working through that together. it's all about negotiation

#sorry my theatre related conflict resolution skills are bleeding ALL over this lmao #i think bc theyre so ubiquitous ppl have kind of overlooked assigned positions but like. they ARE there for a reason #and i am actually a proponent of a centre position i think theyre very important #there SHOULD be someone that stands out. you have to hook people into the group somehow #idk maybe this is a hot take or whatever but idol groups are not 'just about the music' and fans who say that are being naive #should idol groups make good music? yea sure. but in no way is it the only thing they do #and to ignore the stage performance and public interaction side of it is stupid #all of it together is what makes the experience + is part of the job #if you enjoy a group just for their music that's fine. i do that too #but don't pretend that's all the conversation is about #kpop questions #idk maybe this might not make sense to ppl but the way i see is that a kpop group is kind of like the company of a show #like you've got main actors and supporting actors and other ppl that have different positions that do different things #that all help keep everything running the way it should be #so ppl asking about equal line distribution is like someone demanding that a supporting actor should take some of the main's lines #like why? that makes no sense. that's not your role #like obvs the analogy is not one to one. but kpop groups ARE a crafted narrative #text #answers #also i think ppl just dont understand anymore that supporting parts are in fact very important to the makeup of a group #being in a supporting role does not make you lesser. you just have a different function #something something the current standard of individualism and constant drive to 'be the best' or whatever #ruined any understanding of community and communal work #n e ways. idk if this even makes sense anymore

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

foolish one // draco malfoy x fem slytherin reader

playlist: foolish one - taylor swift

summary : youve never had a boyfriend before , guys dont ask you out or really talk to you. just when you start to feel hopeless , draco cant hold back anymore.

y/n used , soft slytherin reader , fluff , short

masterlist

"pansy, am i hideous?" you asked seriously as you sat down at the slytherin table, all of your friends turning to you in shock.

"what?!-" pansy who sat on the right side of you replied in pure confusion.

"its the 5th hogsmeade trip since the start of the year and still nothing! i thought maybe harry was going to ask me this week , but turns out he was getting closer to me to soften up cho!" you exclaimed in pure terror , reliving the moment you saw your close friend ,cho, walking arm in arm with the boy you thought would ask you out this weekend.

draco , unbeknownst to you, clenched his fist tightly at your words , burning holes into his plate as if it were harry potter himself. he completely stayed still as he refused to look your way , eventhough you were sat right next to him.

"y/n! how could you even think such a thing!" pansy said with sympathy.

"yeah , who would ever dream of going on a date with potter?" mattheo added , recieving a smack on the arm from lorenzo.

"i wasnt dreaming! i just....every girl in our year has gone out with a boy by now , ive not even had my.......my first kiss yet.." you muttered in shame as mattheo held back his laugh leading you to shoot him a glare.

"and thats no fault of yours y/n!" pansy rubbed your back softly , "id actually say it was these idiots , always scaring boys off!"

the boys just stared back at her plainly , knowing they had all at some point threatened a boy they felt didnt deserve you.

"yeah well youre just so innocent y/n , not just any boy will do." lorenzo said trying to defend the protectiveness.

"any boy WILL DO!" you said with frustration , making them all move back in suprise , you never usually got angry, "and im not innocent , im only 'innocent' because you guys are blocking me from blossoming!"

mattheo fully burst out laughing now , gaining a disapproving look from pansy who quickly looked away from him to rest a hand on your shoulder, "im sure youll find someone y/n."

"yeah and maybe theyre a bit closer than you think," blaise said with a smirk , shoving dracos shoulder which earns him a scowl from the blonde haired boy.

but you simply wouldnt listen to reason , you just sat with a low hung head and a loss of hope , "i feel so foolish. a few weeks ago i thought cedric , then dean , then harry and none of them ever actually liked me. im delusional!"

"y/n ill take you-" theodore started before being cut off by draco jumping up from his seat , staring straight forward in a stiff position.

"ill take you on a date to hogsmeade!" draco announced , frozen in his spot and refusing to meet your eye.

"really? do you really mean it?!..... but draco you dont like me it isnt the same.." you said as the happiness you felt dwindled making your overthinking increase.

"i like you! a lot, i really like you!" he said still completely frozen and blushing a deep shade of maroon.

you gaped up at him in suprise, pure shock on your face and all of your friends. except they werent suprised draco likes you , they were suprised he confessed.

"i-...i like you too.." you confessed quietly as draco slowly looked at you , his face riddled with euphoria and shock.

"really?" he asked with hope.

"yes really , id know since i have to hear her rant about it every night-" mattheo complained before lorenzos hand covered his mouth hastily.

"yes, yeah i really like you," you said as a smile grew on your face , looking up at him.

and slowly , he let his guard down and smiled back , lighting up the room with his happiness. you admired him for a second before getting up from the bench and grabbing his hand.

"lets go , we can still spend a few hours in hogsmeade if we go now, im so excited!" you squealed , planting a loving kiss on his cheek before dragging him out of the hall.

all of your friends watched in amusement as draco went stiff and turned the all too familiar shade of red.

#harry potter #harry potter x reader #hp fanfic #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #malfoy #draco #x reader #taylor swift #hp fandom #hp #theodore nott #slytherin #draco lucius malfoy #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #foolish one #speak now #harry potter imagine #imagine #fluff

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

Oh god now that toh ends with luz being able to travel between worlds ppl are using that to dunk on amphibia. And now that belos died ppl are using that to dunk on su.

They are different shows people! They have different themes! Amphibia is a classic take on isekai as escapism! Marcy went to amphibia to avoid her real life and while she had fun she didnt mature until after she accepted she needed to embrace change in her life! Anne matured in amphibia bc she always recognized that she has her own life to get back to! Sasha matured after realizing that too! Leaving amphibia for good means to embrace the step out of childhood! Something thats inevitable for everyone!

The owl house is about finding a community in midst of ostracization! Luz stayed in the boiling isles because she found people who accepted her quirks! The boiling isles was in danger from a bigot and luz helps her new community defeat him! Its a very queer story! Community is the center of the story so it makes sense for luz to be able to go back to the boiling isles since shes maintaining her place in the community!

Steven universe is about choosing to be kind! Its that everyone has their own specific traumas that they can overcome with the right support! Its about surviving in a world of bigots at any cost, even if it you have to work with the bigots to carve out a space for the people you love! Because people like you exist and theres nothing anyone in power can do about it! Its also a very queer story! The diamonds can never stamp out the off colors because they will always be there! Steven works with the diamonds not because he likes them but because they can improve the world for his family if only he could get through to them! Hes rewarded for choosing to be kind with success because the theme of the show is hope! Hope that anyone can change! But even though the diamonds stop being fascist steven still doesnt like them because its not about forgiveness! Its about fixing things! Stevens just polite about it!

The owl house starts off with the assumption that everyone can change but its not about the potential its about the willingness to change! The focus is on belos, whos had every chance to turn his life around but will never admit that hes wrong! And the show posits that if someone isnt willing to change theyre not worth helping! Its not about whether or not the character is fascist its about if theyre willing to stop being fascist! Several characters stop being fascist and are welcomed by the characters with open arms belos just wasnt one of them! Several characters clean up their acts but dont adequately address the previous harm they did and are STILL fully forgiven eventually! For toh forgiveness is paired with fixing things you just need to give it time!

And theres an argument that some of these shows didnt do their themes well. If you wanted to portray amphibia as an escapism world that the girls need to leave behind to get to their richer futures then having them get such caring found families go against that by giving them a potential of a good life in the isekai world. Steven universe uses the diamonds as metaphors for mental illness and relationships but its hard to stick with that when you also need to consider the countless other gems they hurt. I think its also fair if people prefer one theme over another.

But a lot of stuff i see comparing these shows just go over surface similarities? Like oh shit! These two shows have the same character archetypes! They have the same inciting incident! This must mean that theyre exactly the same in everything but names and artstyle and are trying to say the exact same things! Like. No. Sometimes,,,,,two stories,,,,,,can talk about two different things,,,,,,,

#shut up pandora #the owl house #toh #amphibia #steven universe #su #emperor belos #phillip wittebane #should i tag the other characters mentioned? #not the diamonds actually #marcy wu #sasha waybright #anne boonchuy

[munsonsmixtapes]

Idk if you take requests but i had this idea in my mind of bestfriends eddie x reader who grew up together, they were soulmates and everyone knew they were each others person. Stuck to each others sides and never bothered dating anyone else. They never spoke about it, never said bf or gf, never asked each other out, they just were and that was perfect for them. They did all the things couples do like cuddling, holding hands. Theyre all gooey and mushy but people cant help but root for them anyway

And oneday despite never technically "dating" or acknowledging it, Eddie proposes to reader and she says yes and everythings perfect, a beautiful heart warming happily ever after they both deserved

Hey! Yes, I am taking requests and I love this one!

Eddie x bestie!fem!reader

word count: 1,141

cw: none!

You weren’t sure there was a time when you hadn’t known Eddie. You couldn’t even remember the exact moment when you had become friends. He was someone that was just always around. The two of you had been attached at the hip, wherever one went, the other wasn’t that far behind.

It was to the point where you always had to be touching each other. Whether you were holding hands or an had arm around each other’s waists, it didn’t matter. Seeing you two behave that way definitely made people question whether you were together, but you had never discussed it. It was always just assumed by everyone that you were a couple.

Your first sign that you were more than friends should have been when you shared your first kiss. You had been at a party together and found yourselves on the couch, side by side. You had been making conversation since you hadn’t wanted to talk to anyone else and for whatever reason, you couldn’t stop staring at his lips.

You felt weird that you had wanted to kiss Eddie. He was your best friend and friends didn’t kiss, did they? They most definitely didn’t. You knew that for a fact. But you went for it anyway. You grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed your lips to his and he was quick to return it. The whole thing was messy and neither of you knew what you were doing, but you both liked it.

Neither of you had ever been in a relationship, but that was only because you had each other. You hadn't been interested in anyone anyway. Eddie had been the only person you had wanted to spend your time with and he felt the exact same way about you. It was as if there had been some sort of string tying the two of you together.

The second sign should have been when you bought your first apartment together. It only had one bedroom but you didn’t even think about it. You just bought a bed and shared it together, not even paying any mind to anyone who told you that it was weird. Because to you, it wasn’t.

The two of you had been cuddled up on the couch while a movie had been playing on the TV. You had been in the same position for hours; him with his back on the couch and you directly on top of him. It was the way you always laid together there and it has been the most comfortable way for the both of you to fit onto the thing. Although, sometimes you’d be on the bottom but that was rare since Eddie always thought he was crushing you.

Eddie had been staring at the screen, fiddling with the velvet box that had been in his hand. He knew that there wasn’t a label on what the two of you had, but he so desperately wanted to call you his wife. He wanted to see you wearing a beautiful dress and walk down the aisle to greet him at the altar where you swore to love each other in sickness and health, til death did you part.

He had bought the ring weeks ago but couldn’t get the balls to actually ask the four words that had been on his mind. You wouldn’t have said no, he knew that for a fact. It hadn’t been something you ever discussed, but he somehow knew that the whole thing had been meant for the two of you.

“Y/n,” he said your name and you quickly turned to him, your chin resting on his chest. He hoped that you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest. That you would avoid the sweat on his forehead.

“Yeah?” He loved the look in your eye that you got when you looked at him. All warm and filled with love. It always made him feel better no matter what. Except now. He was the most nervous he had ever been.

“Can I ask you something?” You could hear the trembling in his voice and wanted to know what was wrong with him. He was always so calm around you.

“You can ask me anything, you know that.” You gave him a sweet smile despite his nervousness, hoping that it would be reassuring.

“Can we sit up for this?” He leaned up and you went with him awkwardly, wanting to put an end to his weird behavior.

“Eds, what’s going on?” You asked as you got off of him, now standing in front of the TV. “You’re sweating bullets, honey. Is everything okay?”

“Y/n, we’ve known each other for a long time,” he said, completely avoiding your question. If he didn’t ask his own soon, he never would and buying that right would have all been for nothing.

“We have,” you nodded, your hands moving to your hips.

“You’re my best friend and have been since I can remember. You’ve been there for my highs and lows and there’s honestly no other person that I love more in the world than you. You’re everything. You’re it for me.” His speech caused the gears to turn in your head. He had always been a mushy guy, especially with you, but this has been a lot. Even for him. You tried to figure out what he was trying to say, what the whole reason for saying all of that was, but your mind went blank.

“Eddie, what-”

Before you could finish your thought, Eddie was on his knees, opening a blue velvet box, the most beautiful ring sitting inside it. You hadn’t even thought about it, but it was the exact one you had wanted. Marriage hadn’t even been on the table, but you would have happily married Eddie in a heartbeat.

“Will you marry me?” He asked and you gasped, still unable to find the words even though you knew exactly what you were going to say. You were just so overwhelmed with joy.

“Yes!” You replied and he quickly slipped the ring onto your finger before gathering you into his arms. He captured your lips between his in a brief kiss before pulling you into a tight hug.

The two of you were now engaged. Engaged. You never thought you would have found your person, but he had been right in front of you all along. You hadn’t even been looking for anyone, but there Eddie was. Really, you had been together the entire time, but neither of you felt the need to address it. That wasn’t how your relationship worked. You never talked about that kind of thing, but the more people had mentioned it, the more you realized that they were right. You and Eddie had been meant for each other all along.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff

[dateamonster]

youre doomscrolling through twitter to try and distract yourself from your empty stomach and empty wallet when you come across some inspiration porn about a delivery driver who collapsed on a customers front porch. the homeowner turned out to be an emt and after seeing her fall with the help of his doorbell-mounted security camera he was able to perform the necessary first aid and rush her to the hospital, and even started a fund to pay for her medical bills after the footage went viral. in the end she not only raised enough money to pay her bills but enough to quit her delivery job for good.

broke and desperate, a dangerous idea begins to take root in your brain. you are not currently a delivery driver, but youve dabbled, and you do have some experience taking bad falls, as well as punches, kicks, and the occasional elbow to the sternum. you have tried worse things for less money.

you order a pizza and cram yourself into a passable looking red polo tee and khakis. googling "rich doctors near me" doesnt exactly yield the results you were looking for, but it gives you enough of a jumping off point, and in only a few clicks you have an address. the multiple conspicuous security cameras mounted around the property look promising. never mind that the couple that lives here (two doctors! how lucky can you get.) didnt actually order the pizza; you can cross that bridge when you come to it. you approach the front steps, making sure to be well in view of at least one of the cameras at all times, stagger, and then take a dive, smashing face-first into one of those decorative fake rocks uppermiddleclassers love for some reason. you try to embody an air of pitiability as you go down.

you lie there a moment, face down in a strangers rock garden, tasting your own blood as it drips lazily from your nose. after some thirty seconds have passed it occurs to you that you maybe should have done something to check that the couple are actually home first. still you dont get up just yet, and a moment later you are rewarded.

you hear multiple sets of footsteps shuffle onto the porch, stopping short as their owners catch sight of your limp body. you plan to feign unconsciousness at least until they turn you over, so they can see your face, see the very real blood and bruising. you wouldnt want them to think you were faking or anything. after what feels like far too long a pause, a soft, feminine voice says,

"theyre still breathing."

"lucky," says the man, his voice something breathless and thick with gravel.

"i'll take the legs, you take the arms."

and then you are being lifted, carried with no small effort up the steps and into the house. they must be bringing you somewhere more comfortable to treat your injuries. you crack open one eye but all you manage to see from your unfortunate position is a few glimpses of the immaculately clean hardwood, the carpet, the marble tile. your prone body swings like a hammock between them, and soon all their jostling and this blurry upside-down view combined with the iron taste lingering on your tongue starts to make you feel vaguely sick until you have to shut your eyes again.

at last you are deposited on a cold, hard surface, the chill of it seeping through your bloody polo and up your spine. youre no longer lying limp and motionless because youre still hoping to pull off this grift; any half-baked hopes have been chased out by a creeping sense of dread, and you know somewhere in your gut that the moment you open your eyes you will have to face that dread and name it.

a mechanical murmur followed by a harsh clank and the sensation of icy metal closing around your wrists and ankles wrenches the privilege of hesitation from you. you gasp and your eyes fly open. the starburst of harsh white light that greets them reminds you distantly of a childhood trip to the dentist.

"good morning, sunshine," that syrupy voice from earlier chirps at you. squinting through the brightness, you make out two figures of similar stature dressed in vomit green medical scrubs that appear to have been hastily pulled over their ordinary clothes. the man is washing his hands in a small sink somewhere off past your feet. the woman is securing a paper mask, though even with her mouth covered, you can still see the smile pushing up her high sculpted cheekbones to the point where she seems barely able to keep her eyes open.

her skin is like a smooth putty, not a wrinkle or pore or freckle in sight, as if there were a layer of pink latex pulled taut over her real face.

"you came just in time," the man, her husband, calls over his shoulder as he shakes his hands dry and reaches for a box of gloves. "we didnt know where we were going to find another subject, and then, out of nowhere, there you were." he turns and steps into the light, and the face that stares down at you is a lidless mass of pulsing purple-red veins, hairless, damp with sweat already (you hope its sweat). a narrow arrow nose with nostrils too thin to take in breath sits above a rosy sphincter of a mouth, before that too is covered by a mask.

if you manage to scream, you cant hear it over the relentless whine of whatever machine sits just outside of your periphery, just out of reach no matter how you twist and strain at the manacles holding you in place, and the ringing in your own ears.

"youre just what the doctor ordered."

#writing #horror #body horror #medical horror

[naurimastaur]

Gingerism

Summary: In which George and Fred devise a plan to trick y/n into admitting their feelings for George

Pairing: George weasley x nonbinary!reader

Tw: my attempt at writing xx

Please don’t take this seriously this one is just for fun!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Georgie?” Fred called out smacking the back of George’s head in the process. “Are you going to sit there like a stupid git for the rest of your life staring at them, or are you actually going to do something about it?” George sort of fancied his best friend y/n. They were awkward. He was awkward. It was a mess.

“I dunno, I just, what If I ruin everything?” He replied defeated, an almost foreign response coming from the twins, who in their approach to everything, were annoyingly cocky.

“I don’t doubt that,” Fred replied unhelpful. It was in his nature to be a dickhead at all times.“But this is y/n we’re talking about! We’ll just ban them from the burrow or something if they say no.” There was a reason no one went to the twins for advice.

George looked to his brother, deadpan. Fred looked back, grinning.

“ Or,” he suddenly lit up, an idea brewing in his head. “what if we get our hands on some of that amortentia thing? Say we need their help and before you know it theyre all blah blah blah dreamy George smell and we’ll know!!!!” It was almost certainly a failing plan, but it was better than anything George had in mind and sadly he shared his brother’s brain cells. Or lack thereof.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ OI y/n!” Fred called out. “ George and I are testing out a new product and we would be honoured if you and your royal nose gave it a try. It’s a real business investment!” His accent mocking that of a commercial salesman from the muggle tvs.

“Fred Weasley if you think I’d willingly stick my face anywhere near something you have made, you are a bigger idiot than you make yourself out to be,” they responded. Having been best friends with the twins for five years, they had long learnt their lesson on trust and why exactly not to place it in gingers. They gave one last unimpressed look and walked away.

Fred and George shared a look. Perhaps if they actually thought plans through they wouldn’t be in this position right now.

“ Well hey!” Fred said “ At least they spoke to you! That’s a step!”

“No you git, they spoke to you.”

“ Yes but you look like me so it’s all the same,” Fred replied, once again trying to lighten the mood. “ What if we get Hermione to try it? They won’t suspect anything if it comes from her.” Thus another plan equally as devastating was formed.

It only took a couple of hours of threats and promises no one intended to keep to get Hermione on board. She agreed based on the terms that the twins would leave her alone to revise after. Short time pain for long term gain some would say.

“Hey y,n!” Hermione smiled ever as friendly, walking over to where y/n was in the great hall. “Im sorry to bother you but we’ve been assigned this potion and I can’t seem to figure out the ingredients. I was thinking since you’re a fifth year you might know them?” Hermione was as good at lying as the twins were at making plans.

“ The twins didn’t set you up for this did they?” Y/n replied unconvinced.

“ No! Merlin no! I’m really stressed over this y/n and I really thought you could help me but if you can’t take me seriously I’ll ask elsewhere.” Maybe Hermione wasnt that bad after all.

“Oh no I’m sorry! Of course I’ll help. Alright I smell rain and-,” they paused after seeing a tuft of ginger hair appearing from under one of the tables from the corner of their eye, a pair of brown eyes following, most certainly that of Fred weasley. Hermione, the brightest witch of her age, seemed to have fallen victim to a Weasley scheme. Depressing. Y/n decided they weren’t going to let themself miss out on the fun.

“And?” Hermione near shouted, clearly trying to direct the attention back to herself but forgetting human social skills in the process.

“And-Oh! This last smell is kind of like husky?” They said uncertain. “I totally get why you couldn’t figure it out. I’m so sure I’ve smelt it before though.” Hermione quickly responded with a ‘mhm’, unsure where this was going and uninterested all the same.

“Oh I know! This smells like Snape’s hair! I can almost taste the grease,” they replied with the most genuine smile they could manage. They had nothing against Hermione, but this awkward, subtle form of revenge was far more entertaining than they had anticipated.

Hermione paused, clearly filled with regret and remorse for what she had inserted herself into. “You-.” She exhaled before starting again. ”You know what professor Snape’s hair smells like?” She replied cringing but slightly curious. Maybe she could buy the professor shampoo or something to get on his good side, after all Gryffindor needs all the house points they can get.

“Oh yeah I’ve taken a couple of sniffs before when he wasn’t looking,” y/n grinned. ”Do you think he noticed?” Now Hermione was just disturbed. She stared blankly at y/n before taking the potion from their grasp and walking away. This is what she gets for choosing to socialise instead of revising.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waiting in the common room was George, an accomplished grin set on his face when Hermione walked in, which slowly faded when he saw her face. Not that that wasn’t his usual reaction when he saw the know-it-all.

“So?” He questioned fishing for a response. “How’d it go?”

Hermione stared blankly back at him.

“Unless you’re professor snape it seems they dont have any interest.”

George was really beginning to regret his existence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: this was way longer than I had anticipated and was also marinating in the drafts much like the nits in Snape’s hair <3

While you’re here check out a prank to die for

@thescrunkler

#weasley twins #george weasley x reader #neville longbottom x reader #fred weasley x reader #twd #nonbinary reader #queer #new writers on tumblr #harry james potter #harry potter #idk what else to put in the tags #george weasley #george weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #nb reader #crush imagines #x yn #lgbtqia #lgbtq positivity #hogwarts au #hp fandom

[wrens-writings]

Pretty Boy

: ̗̀➛ Jason Grace x clearsighted mortal!gn!reader

: ̗̀➛ In which you witness something horrible and wake up wishing it was just a dream, only to be met with the prettiest man you’ve ever laid your eyes on

: ̗̀➛ oh my gods??? hi??? yall absolutely ATE UP my percy fic??? i was actually SO nervous abt posting my writing, but the positive feedback made me so happy :,) also yes, this is set during HoH. do i care? no! piper is a gay icon and im sorry but i clocked in IMMEDIATELY that she wasn’t straight. my gaydar is just THAT good. also, i’m not entirely the biggest fan of this piece, but i believe in posting what i make. i use it as progress markers :)

: ̗̀➛ WARNINGS: probably out of character, near allusions to a panic attack (mr stapler eater thwarts it quickly 😌), jason being FINE.

‘oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!’ you think to yourself as you stare, unable to tear your eyes away from the Neptune statue that you frequently found yourself at this summer.

you watch as two weird furry things giggle and laugh at two boys. you don’t understand any of what’s happening right now, but you do know that whatever those weird ass creatures are, they stole the boys belongings.

you’ve never been the type to just let people get harassed, even if you don’t know them, or if their harassers are… four foot tall furry things… “hey! those don’t belong to you!” you growl at the creatures, stepping out of the shadows of the alleyway and approaching the broken fountain.

you let out a startled squeak as the shorter boy lights his hands on fire out of shock and defence when you approach. the sound that left your body as well as the EVERYTHING happening around you somehow distracted you from the telltale feeling of lightning preparing to strike on you.

in a flash, golden cords extend from Neptunes fingers, wrapping mostly around the blond boy. one of them misses the brunet, only to latch itself onto you.

just as you’re caught up in the tight golden cords, your body pressed tightly against the blond boy’s, a bolt of lightning strikes Neptunes trident, and suddenly the world went black.

vaguely, you can hear someone telling you to wake up, almost as if they were in a panic. thinking it was your mother trying to tell you that you’re going to be late for school, despite it being july, you curl yourself tighter into the nearest surface.

‘wait a damn minute…’ you think to yourself briefly. ‘this… this isn’t my pillow or my blanket…’

your eyes fly open, and are met with the clearest blue you’ve ever seen. theyre so blue that you weren’t sure if you were looking at the sky for a split second. and then it all comes rushing back.

“oh my god!” you cry, your voice shaking with confusion. it was real? why did it have to be real? why couldn’t this whole thing have just been a dream??

the pretty blond boy was clearly panicking a bit himself. “hey! hey! calm down, it’s okay!” he says over your panicky breathing. “my name is Jason. everything is oka— breathe, dude oh my gods calm down?!”

well that snapped you out of it.

“excuse me?!” you snap, your eyes narrowing with distaste. “don’t you tell me to calm down when i’m hanging upside down with some himbo lookin’ ass who’s acting like this is a regular ole thursday!”

the boy, Jason, bites his lip to stifle a laugh. if he wasn’t so damn attractive, you would’ve been incredibly offended. “sorry.” he giggles.

as you study his face, your own softens slightly. Jason didn’t portray it with his heart on his sleeve, but looking deeper into those mesmerizing clear blue eyes, you could see the horrors. something tells you that he doesn’t get to let loose very often.

“y/n.” you say, much softer than before. “my name is y/n.”

Jason smiles, and the small scar on his lip twitches. briefly, you wonder what the story behind it is. “it’s nice to meet you, y/n. i’m Jason. i wish it could’ve been under better circumstances.” he offers kindly.

you scoff and roll your eyes with a hint of fondness. “yea yea. you know how to get us out of this, Pretty Boy?” you ask with a small, slightly nervous smile.

Jason chokes, clearly not expecting the compliment. “er- yea. uh, just… don’t freak out when i pull out my sword.” he says sheepishly.

your eyes widen. sword?! before you even realize it, there’s a satisfying shrng! of metal in the air. Jason’s golden blade cuts through the cords that hold the two of you up and you tumble to the ground.

you wince and cradle your head. “ow…” you murmur, a frown on your lips.

despite you CLEARLY being in pain, Jason laughs at you softly. he offers you his hand to help you up, and with a shy smile, you take it. “these streets probably aren’t that safe right now… let me walk you back to… er… wherever you came from?” he offers kindly.

you can’t help but chuckle now yourself. “oh, sure, let’s walk to america.” you say with a snort as you begin to walk down the pretty streets of italy with an equally pretty boy. “won’t your friend need help, though?”

Jason shrugs your worry off. “nah, Leo’s fine. he’s as resourceful as they come.” he tells you with a smirk.

you nod and continue walking. “so i assume that there’s a reason i could see those weird things?” you ask softly, almost afraid of the answer.

Jason nods stiffly. he opens his mouth to answer you, but you don’t hear it. you’re too busy staring at him. at those clear, electric blue eyes that are shielded by a pair of glasses and hide so much pain. his soft looking pink lips and the scar along them. his windswept blond hair, as though he’d been flying through the sky without any protection. the way he talks and walks, as if he’s been trained his whole life to be a diplomat.

jesus christ, this boy is pretty as they come.

when you finally tear your eyes away from him, you frown. you’re somehow at the home your family has rented for the summer. already?

“thank you, for walking me back.” you say to him shyly as you look back into his gorgeous eyes.

Jason’s cheeks light pink, just barely, but enough that you can see. “of course. it’s no problem.” he responds as he rubs the back of his head nervously. “take care of yourself, okay, y/n?”

you nod and say your farewells, watching him as he turns and runs back the way you walked, intent on finding his friend. you wonder if you’ll ever see him again, if the fates will ever allow you to cross paths with such a beautiful person ever again.

your eyes fall as you watch him leave, but snap back up quickly. damn! he has a nice ass, too…

#ೃ⁀➷ wrens writings #ೃ⁀➷ wrens ramblings #ೃ⁀➷ wrens tidbits #jason grace x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the heroes of olympus #house of hades #pjo

[luveline]

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

one | two | three | four

Finding out you’re a princess isn’t half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can’t seem to stop flirting with you. 

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, implied chubby!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au, all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance, slowburn, background wolfstar

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

You hadn’t realised moving right along your hemisphere would be enough to change the weather. The UK is cold and often rain-soaked, while Genovia has been nothing but sunny. It's a nice change, and the sun on your skin almost removes the insecurity of wearing a dress that isn’t yours. You feel pretty. You feel as yourself as you have in the days since this whole thing began. 

“Sorry,” James says, standing in the sunshine with his hands crossed primly behind his back, “you’re what?”

You sit up properly in the window seat. He deserves every ounce of respect that you can give him, he’s been nothing but caring and kind since you met. You almost regret your decision to leave, if only because you wont get to witness him and his nice friends. 

Who will be separated once again, your brain adds helpfully. Thanks to you. 

“I'm going home.” Your sketchbook is supple under your hands, a thick and expensive leather bending from the force of your squeeze.  

He has the most professional look on his face you've ever seen from him. “If you’ve forgotten something-”

“James,” you say. You'd said quite plainly only moments ago your intentions. “I can't be a princess.” You soften your tone. “I’m sorry.”

“You are a princess. By blood.”

Sleeping on it hasn't made it a truth that’s any easier to accept. You are biologically the daughter of the late Prince of Genovia. He was your father, and now he’s dead. It is agonising to think of, and so you can’t. You look down at the sketchbook pressed flush to your linen skirts, the fabric plain and yet gorgeously rendered. It’s the nicest thing you’ve ever worn. You wonder if they might let you keep it after you renounce your title. 

“I can't do this,” you say quietly. 

You’re ashamed of yourself, but you really can't do this. You cannot live through your life changing in such a huge way, you aren’t built for it; you've only just learned to function in your tiny flat on your equivalent uni course. You’re finally in a position, as lonely as it might be, where you feel okay with who you are. If you were to accept the task theyre trying to hoist upon you, become a princess, live forever in the limelight surrounded by a better breed of royal, it’ll destroy you.

“You can. Of course you can.”

You look up cautiously. James’ mouth is set in a line. He looked so pleased when he walked in, and he'd given you a compliment subtly and easy as breathing. You worry he wants to take it back now that you’ve thrown in the towel, but he’d never do anything so spiteful. And it’s silly —you’re thinking about a compliment while his life and job are teetering. 

It’s just one of the reasons you aren't cut out for this. 

“It’s your job to be a good judge of character, right? You read people,” you say tentatively. 

He nods. “Yeah. That’s how I know you can do this.”

You set aside your sketchbook and pencil, wringing your hands together as you stand. “You must see it, James. I’m not meant for this, I’m…” Weak, you won't say. There's no use in dramatics. You plaster a smile over your worrying and wear it like you're sure of yourself. “It will be better for everyone if I give up now.”

James looks over his shoulder. Upon his entry, the guard at your side had moved to the doorway to stand with Daniels, and so the room is empty besides the two of you. He takes a step toward you, and he drops his head noticeably. As if he could intimidate you when he's so so sweet. 

“It won't be better for everyone,” he says slowly. “Not for the people of Genovia, they need an heir to take the throne.”

“Julianna–”

“Julianna isn't eligible.” He shakes his head. “It’s hard to explain. But Genovia needs a queen, a good queen, someone with a good heart.”

Your heart leaps into your throat at the idea of ruling. “James, you don't even know me. I could ruin everything.”

“You said it yourself, Princess. I’m a good judge of character.”

You fall silent. You don't want to argue with him, you don't have even an ounce of malice for him. 

"You're a princess, you– you haven't even tried," he says pleadingly. 

You trick yourself into thinking James wants you to stay because he wants to be your friend. You know you're desperate for one. Back home, the closest you have to friends are the people who wait at the same bus stop each morning and each night, or your classmates at the college. James could be your friend, you know he would be if you stayed. He's remarkably kind. 

But James wants you to stay for a myriad of reasons. For Genovia. For his friends. 

"I just want to go home," you confess weakly. 

Heat rises to your cheeks and throat, a lump you can't swallow. 

"Okay," James says. "Alright." 

He nods at you, a picture of a perfect professional, and turns to leave. You open your mouth to say something, but you don't have a clue as to what, and by the time he's left the room you've drummed up nothing more than a pitiful, "James." 

You're part way to unexplainable tears when Remus appears. He looks startled at your expression, and you can't make any sense of it yourself, so you mumble, "Please don't ask." 

"Do you want a tissue?" he asks sympathetically. 

You shake your head. 

Remus looks unhappy again, as he had on the plane. His pale skin is nearly grey. You debate asking if he's doing okay, but you've just told him to leave you alone. You assume from his expression he'd prefer the same. 

"Do you want to come have some dinner with me?" he asks. 

"That's okay, I don't think I'll be in need of any etiquette training after all," you say. 

"As friends," he says. "Please. I don't like going down to the kitchen by myself, Marlene harasses me." 

Marlene, a dark haired, dark-eyed girl with a sweetheart shaped face and hands covered in tiny burns, does harass Remus, but not in the way you'd thought. 

"Eat up, Moony," she says, placing yet another plate in front of him, bringing the total up to ten. 

You sit thigh to thigh with him on a small bench set aside in a room just off the kitchens that says 'Staff Only' on the door. Despite this, no one has objected to your sitting down. At least, not yet. 

"Marlene, I physically cannot eat all this." 

"Ah, but the Princess will help." Marlene smiles at you. She seems genuine. "She needs to get used to our cuisine." 

You can't endure the awkwardness of explaining your situation. You smile 'til your eyes crinkle in the corners and take a big mouthful of some mysterious soup rather than speak. 

"Ah, Remus, we've been making bone broth for Her Majesty, it's supposed to do wonders for your heart," Marsha adds. She's the opposite of Marlene but no less beautiful, pale and blonde as cornsilk with fine eyebrows and translucent lashes. In the sun leaking in from the window, she's quite golden. "We can set you some aside whenever we make it for her, love." 

Remus smiles. "Thank you." 

Marsha and Marlene both sequester themselves again behind the huge silver ovens. You've never seen anything like it, a marvel of modern machinery in the industrial instrumentation that heats the room. The windows have been thrown open to combat the thick and fragrant air, but you're still sweating. 

"D'you need a drink?" he asks. 

"I can't get them." 

"Please, Princess. I don't need another person trying to take care of me." He doesn't say it spitefully, but you're sorry all the same. 

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to patronise you–" 

"I know," he says, standing up. "Trust me, I know. You're just being polite, because you're nice." He smiles. "I'll get us a carafe, okay?" 

A carafe. Of what? Do royals drink only from carafes? Is it weird to ask for a coke? You turn your gaze back to the rich foods that have been laid out in front of you and pick up a fork. Then, upon reflection, you swap the fork for the appropriate one, and finish the small portion of chicken ragù you'd set aside. 

"Ah-ha!" a familiar voice calls. "Y/N! Here you are. Is my Remus with you, or are you very hungry?" 

You twist on the bench to face him. "Your Remus?" 

Your question slipped out, really. Sirius grins and sits down to your right. "We have to talk funeral." 

"Oh. Alright." 

He clasps your forearm for a gentle second.

"Sorry. Truly. I'm so sorry for your loss. I promise I'll make this as easy for you as I can, okay? You'll be in the public eye, and I want to make sure you do nothing that anyone can fault you for." 

He has a strange mouth. Not ugly, a million miles from it, but unexpected. It pulls down into a grimace as he talks, his hand patting yours. 

"I won't have to speak, will I?" 

He shakes his head firmly. "No. All you have to do is look pretty and dress well. You're already doing the first part beautifully by yourself, and I will make sure you have plenty of options for the second part, yeah?" 

"Oh, hi, Sirius," Remus says, back with a carafe and two glasses.

"Hello," Sirius says, "did you get asked about the bone broth yet?" 

Remus sits on your other side and huffs. "Yes. Did you put them up to that?" 

"The opposite! I told them not to bug you about it because bone broth sounds a little…" 

"Old-fashioned?" 

"Inhumane." 

You laugh and fail to smother it with the back of your hand. It feels weird because it hadn't explicitly been a conversation involving you, but neither tell you off or give you a funny look. Remus laughs at your laughing and pours your drink for you, a pale orange liquid topped by slices of orange, blood orange and white flowers. 

You take a cautious sip. 

"Have you seen my darling James this morning?" Sirius asks Remus from behind you. 

"Not since he left my room."

You choke on your drink. Hands smashed to your mouth, juice drips down your arms and ruins the bodice of your dress, sticky orange and spit everywhere. The boys either side of you splutter in shock, though Sirius begins to laugh as Remus presses a tissue into your hands. 

"Are you okay?" Remus asks, patting your back. 

"I'm fine," you say hoarsely, wiping yourself down with impressive speed as the heat of embarrassment rises. 

"Something go down the wrong pipe?" 

You're honest by accident, extremely startled by your choking and the subsequent question, "I didn't know James and Remus– that you were– sorry, I was just surprised–" 

"Oh, no," Remus says, sounding almost as embarrassed as you now, "no, we aren't. I mean, he's my best friend. He's like my brother." 

"Oh," you say, squeaking, desperately hoping the ground will open up and eat you whole. 

"We aren't romantically involved," Remus says, and you get the sense that's where he plans to end this conversation. 

"Yet," Sirius whispers in your ear. 

Remus shakes his head at you solemnly. 

Desperate to get away from an awkward conversation despite Sirius' good humour, you stand up from the bench and duck your head at both of them. "Um, I'll just go get some paper towels. Sorry. For spitting." 

"Forgiven," Sirius says easily. 

You rush away from them both out of the alcove and into the main body of the kitchen. Heads turn as you walk, and some staff even take the time to incline their heads to you like a small bow, but you ignore them all and head straight for Marlene. She smiles when she senses your approach, full lips cherry red and shiny as she asks, "Is there something I can do for you, Your Highness?" 

"I'm so sorry," you begin, "I've made a mess, could I get some kitchen towel? Sorry." 

"Of course! Can I have someone come and clean it up for you?" 

"No, please, it's my mess, and you've been gracious enough to allow me in your space. I couldn't have anyone else do it." 

"It's really no problem," Marlene says, but she walks to the utility cupboard south of the huge pantry and produces a roll of kitchen towels for you. 

"Thank you." Then, because you might be leaving soon, and she should know, "I– I've never had so many nice foods at once. I can't cook, at home. Everything I eat is from a jar or a tin," —you cough, worried that was an overshare— "and it's nothing compared to all of this. You guys are amazing." 

Marlene's smile softens. You hadn't realised she was being diplomatic until genuineness welled to the surface of her expression, her eyes suddenly brighter, and her smile unrestrained. "We work hard, and we love what we do. Thank you, Your Highness."

You rub your lips together and nod. Spinning on your heel, you navigate out of the kitchen as quickly as you can without running clean into someone and return to the staff alcove, where Remus and Sirius sit with their heads together, in the middle of a conversation you can't hear. 

You hesitate a few steps away. Remus smiles widely, so widely his face changes completely, and Sirius' hand drifts to his elbow. His thumb presses into the crook, and they both giggle together like kids. You're paranoid that they're laughing at you, and wondering how you could think for even a second that Remus was sleeping with James, when Sirius tucks his hair behind his ear and says, "I can't believe we're finally in the same place again." 

You back away. Not sure what to do with yourself, not sure if what you've already done is the wrong thing. You're guilty, and you're afraid of making the wrong choice, having already made it.

A hand pats your shoulder. 

"Sorry, Mikkelson," you say. 

It's not Mikkelson. James' hand lingers on your shoulder for a half second before he takes a step back. 

"Walk with me?" he asks. 

—

James takes you out to the Palace Gardens. You insist on walking side by side, and he agrees for the most part because here is where you're best protected.

"I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly. I had something to do. How are you feeling?" 

"How am I feeling?" you ask softly. "I don't…" 

"You had some very big news yesterday. So, how are you feeling?" 

You squint in the sun. James supposes you aren't used to it, considering you'd been living in one of the rainiest cities in the UK, which is one of the greyest countries in the world. 

"I feel fine," you say. 

Truth or lie. Probably a lie, but James can't call you out on it, considering your relatively new relationship. A professional relationship at that, the lines of which he has already crossed multiple times. 

He can't help it. You're not weak, you aren't in need of his protection for lack of character —you're quite obviously very brave considering the insane pressure of your situation. Brave, but it's James' job anyhow to be your shield. 

You get this look on your face like you're deep in thought, he's seen it every day since he met you five days ago, and it reminds him of his melancholy friends. He wonders how he's going to get rid of it. 

"I've spoken to our Palace doctor." Even though it is not his job, James seems to have taken on the majority of your care. Your lady in waiting has yet to arrive, and Sirius is rather busy arranging your presence at your father's funeral (and hounding Remus, having missed him dearly). "She would love to have an appointment with you, to assess you, and to adjust for your medical needs. But it's not the physical that I'm concerned about, it's your head." 

"My head." 

"Yes. I would love for you to talk to a counsellor, or a therapist while you're here." 

"What's the point?" you ask sincerely. 

"Your father has passed away," he says. "That takes a toll." 

"I didn't even really know him." You speak so softly to him, like you're worried your voice will disrupt the summer air. 

"I know. That doesn't always make it easier. I want you to experience the compassion and care that you deserve, that's all. If you don't want to talk to anyone, I understand. But if you'll humour me, I'd appreciate it." 

"When… do you want me to see her?" 

"The doctor?" James winces at his own surprise. "You can see her whenever you want to. She's completely at your discretion." 

"Oh, okay. Well, when is best for her?" 

James doesn't smile, but he wants to. "I believe she goes home to pick up her son at six. So before then would probably suit her best. But she's on call twenty four hours a day and paid well, I promise." 

"Okay. Um. Well, how do I do that? Make an appointment, or?" 

"I can make it for you. Or Sirius can."

"I can't make it myself?" 

"No, you can. Do you want me to call for someone to get her? Or you can ask the phone to connect you?" 

You stop walking at your slow pace and turn your body to the beds of flowers lining the path. Small and dainty flowers much like a Californian wildflower bloom contained to rows. 

"Would you mind doing it for me?" you ask. You sound shame-faced. 

"No, I wouldn't mind. When do you want to see her?" James asks. 

"Not today, please. Maybe tomorrow." 

James makes a mental note to ask you about it tomorrow. She really is on call —there's no need to make an appointment. But there's also no need to correct you and no need to worry about it now. 

"The Prince, may he rest in peace, will be buried in five days. You're sure you don't mind staying until then?" He doesn't want you to leave, but the memory of your plea twists his guts. I just want to go home.

"I–yes. Of course. I owe it." 

James doesn't know about that. But the Prince never did any harm to you, though he never made any efforts to take care of you, and so it won't hurt for you to attend. Still…

"You don't have to go if you don't want to. I know that Lily and Emmeline stressed that your presence was desired, but that's political. It's the image of the country, of our country. And the UK, who's royal family, as you know yourself, are deeply embroiled in scandal and, ah, what's thought to be empty rhetoric." 

You're starting to look rather frazzled. James decides to pull back his professionalism a touch. 

"Genovia protects the image of the Royal family because they've seen how ire builds in other countries. Deserved ire. They want it to seem as though you are cohesive, cooperative, and not–" 

"A secret." 

"Yes. If you'd gone to Oxford, they would've lied," —he shouldn't be saying this, for the record— "and said you'd been extradited for your safety. Or spun some tale about a normal childhood." 

"But I'm a drop out who lives in a one bedroom flat." 

"Yes." He watches the side of your face. Your eyes are glued to the flowers and unwavering. "I don't think there's any shame in that." 

"Thanks," you mumble. 

You don't believe him. He doesn't mind. He has plenty of time to convince you of your worth. 

"Would you like to pick some of the flowers?" he asks. 

"I don't want to ruin anyone's hard work." 

"They won't mind." 

You crouch down, reaching for the flowers. Your fingers weave through the dark stems of gorgeous purple and pink flowers, their colours so marvellously vibrant yet their shapes elegant enough to suit. You choose a purple flower with white edges and pick it gently. After a moment, you pick a second. 

You stand, holding the flowers between your thumb and forefinger. 

You clutch your flowers like small lifelines as he walks you back into the palace. You worry audibly about the location of your new sketchbook, and don't seem to like it when one of the guards who'd been watching you this morning seamlessly removes himself from a wall with the book in hand. 

James asks you what you want to do and you don't know. You aren't hungry, you aren't in the mood for movies or music and it might seem disrespectful for you to be seen at the theatre —not that James thinks you would spend much time there anyhow. You don't want to do anything at all, so James suggests that you retire to your private quarters and have some time to yourself. 

He takes up station by the door, listening to the dull scratching of your pencil for a good hour. He wonders if, occasionally, you're talking to yourself: there isn't much to go off of, the suggestion of your voice rather than the reality. You could be humming. You might be clearing your throat. 

An hour later and there's silence. 

James pulls his radio from his shoulder. Guarding you when you aren't up for talking is, unfortunately, rather dull. And he worries what it is you're upto; quiet is indicative of absence. 

"Sirius?" he asks the radio. 

Sirius does not often wear a radio, and he has his pager even less. It's a wonder he gets anything done. 

"James?" Remus asks, his voice crackling over the channel. 

"Hey, is Sirius with you?" 

"He's not. He's assembling a potential funeral wardrobe for Her Highness. Do you want me to go look for him?" 

James almost laughs. "I have people for that. Mikkelson?" 

He can practically hear Mickey's groan at being picked on before the man picks up his radio and says, "Yeah, sir?" 

"Find Mr. Black, won't you? Thank you." 

Hoping Sirius is on his way, James knocks your door. 

He, professionally (and he is trying so hard to be a professional), should call you Princess or Your Highness. But both titles make your skin crawl now that they're fact, so he opts for neither. 

"Are you alright in there?" he asks. 

You don't answer. James sighs and eases open your door. He wouldn't usually, not every silence is ominous, and your privacy is a right, but your safety is the priority and at the moment you're a high level target whether James agrees with that assessment or not. If he were to ignore protocol, and you were annihilated, he would go to prison for a long, long time. 

You're asleep at the desk. 

James is honestly surprised. It can't be comfortable, and your bed is probably one of the comfiest in the world with a state of the art orthopaedic mattress and duck-down pillows and quilts. What's worse, your desk chair is solid wood and likely fifty years old. The crick in your neck and the damage to your back will be extraordinary. 

And yet, it isn't James' job to wake you up. 

Professionally, James should leave. He should go back to his posting at the door. He has no need to wake you. 

You're frowning in your sleep. When you wake, he imagines you'll have graphite rubbed into your cheek. 

James sighs and leaves the room. 

"You wanted to see me?" Sirius asks, sounding spritely as he walks down the hallway toward him. 

"Hello," James says, and if they were in school he would stand up from a slouching pose against the wall and collect Sirius into a bear hug, slapping his back, maybe pulling a lock of his hair while saying something flirtatious. 

He stands at rigid attention. 

"Drop the stance, my love," Sirius says. James snorts. "There's no one here to see you." 

"It's not the point." 

"I know. What did you want? I'm quite busy." 

"Could you start carrying your pager, please? Or better, a radio? Then you wouldn't have to cross the entire building to find me." 

"You could've called me?" Sirius suggests. 

"I don't have a phone while I'm working." 

"Well, that's silly."

"I was…" He lowers his voice. "I'm worried the Princess is lonely." 

"Then go talk to her." 

"I can't. You know as well as I do that the point of my being here is to protect her to the best of my ability, and that requires an unaffected point of view. I can't give her my full attention while giving her safety my full attention, that doesn't add up." 

"Then grab a couple of other men and then go speak to her." 

"This is my job, Sirius. I'm paid to do this." 

"Not paid to make sure she's in company," Sirius says. He smiles at James like he's won the argument and James, brimming with brotherly affection, wants to chop him in the stomach. 

"Her mental health–" 

"Yes, I know. Just as important as physical. And while you wear the badge with pride, James, it still isn't your job." Sirius leans against the wall opposite. The hallways here are huge. It is quite the gap. "I was thinking I'd make her an appointment with Cindy." 

"She said she'll make one tomorrow." 

"Oh, brilliant. You know, Cindy's getting a divorce?" 

"I didn't know that," James says. "How do you know that?" 

Sirius taps the side of his nose before crossing his arms tightly across his chest, looking smug. "She's very single now, Jamie. And very pretty, she's a redhead." 

"Sirius…" 

Sirius stands, stretches and meets James at your doorway. "Okay, fine, I can see you're not in the mood." 

"It's not because of you." 

"I know that, thanks," Sirius says, stepping on James' steel-capped boot as he pushes past him. 

"Sirius–" 

Sirius pulls his hand back from your door handle. "What?" he asks.

"She's sleeping. Try to wake her nicely." 

"If she's sleeping, why does she need company?" 

James nods toward your door insistently. 

Sirius does as he's being asked because he's a sweetheart with entirely too much time for James, despite also being on the clock. James can't see anything from his position, but he can hear your conversation. 

Sirius lets himself into the room. He likely shakes your shoulder with care as he says, "Princess Y/N, poor darling, are you alright?" 

"Sorry," you say scratchily. Here James thinks you might've lifted your head and discovered the crick in your neck. "Oh, I'm sorry, am I supposed to be somewhere?" 

"No." There's an unmistakable fondness in Sirius tone, hiding just beneath the practised facade that comes with working for Royalty. "Do you want me to help you into bed? Or call for an attendant?" 

"No, no, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… Sorry. What did you need?" 

"I have some clothes picked out for you to wear to the funeral proceedings. I want your opinion, but I don't need it right now. You can go back to bed if you like." 

"No," you say. James feels for you. No, no, no. "I can do whatever you need me to." 

"Why don't you freshen up, first? James stole you at dinner, I'll go have him order something sweet to the fitting rooms, alright?" 

"Yes. Thank you." 

"You're welcome."  

Sirius emerges from your room and gives James an elbowing. "You could've woken her up. You're not heartless." 

"I'm technically not allowed in there if she doesn't permit me." 

"She doesn't know that, and I'm sure she'd prefer a wake up call than to be left like that." Sirius rubs one of his eyes with the heel of his hand. "Sorry, I'm not shouting at you. But I really don't think you need to worry about permission and not speaking to her. She's not Julianna," his voice drops to a murmur, "she doesn't think she's above us." 

"I don't care if she does," James says honestly. Not because he thinks you should feel superior, but because he learned a long time ago that people do, and there's nothing he can do to stop it. "Mary's back tomorrow. If she catches even a whiff of how I've been behaving–" 

Sirius holds James' gaze. "Poor girl had pencil on her face." 

"Yes." 

"They're going to eat her alive." 

"Probably." 

"But we won't let them," Sirius says. 

"Not willingly." 

Sirius nods. "Are you coming with us?" 

"Yeah." He checks his watch. "Couple hours left yet 'til six. Are you off at the same time?" 

"No, are you kidding? I finish at three like a normal person." 

"That's not normal. Ever heard the phrase nine to five?" 

"Normal compared to the royals, who work never to never." 

James shushes him. Sirius shushes James back. 

"Are we ready to go?" you ask. 

James grins at the shock on Sirius' face, as if to say, What, you didn't hear her? Even though he'd barely heard your approach himself. A picture of politeness, Sirius ushers you down the hallway with him. 

You trek down onto the first floor, through the huge foyer and into the main section of the palace hiding behind the grand banquet hall. Here resides the fitting rooms, not too far from the servants quarters in case the tailors or maids are required. 

Sirius calls for an attendant despite the horror on your face at the suggestion as he leads you into the biggest fitting room. It's almost like a shop, in that it houses racks upon racks of clothing no doubt loaned in for Sirius' perusal. 

He drags a smaller rack to the centre of the room. 

"How do you feel about trying things on? Do you need a partition?" Sirius looks at you for a few seconds. "I'll call for one." 

You look like you've been slapped. 

James clears his throat. "He knows you're shy," he says. 

You take that much better. "Yeah. I do want the partition. Please." 

James weighs up the possibility of your possible murder and decides the chances are still too high to offer to leave. He truly won't be able to see you behind the partition, and it's not worth the administrative hell in any case. He hates how his job makes him constantly aware of how you might be murdered, but he likes knowing he could protect you with force. It evens out. 

"A fancy education may have helped me be where I am today, but it doesn't account for style or taste." Sirius smiles, propping himself on the arm of a suede armchair. "Which is my saying that you don't have to like what I like, and if you hate stuff just say. I won't be offended, Your Highness." 

"Please, no Your Highness," you murmur. 

"James says I dress like a socialite with too much money and not enough taste." 

"I do say that," James says.

You laugh under your breath. "Well, I'm sure you've better taste than me. I've never been to an event like this, I don't want to embarrass myself, so, um, don't let me." 

"I won't," Sirius says. 

Sirius understands the fashion tastes of the elite even if he doesn't personally enact them. He passes you an outfit, and you disappear behind the propped up partition to change. With the windows closed and the curtains drawn, only the overhead light is in play, and your shadow is reflected onto the floor to the left. James averts his eyes. 

You try on a couple of outfits. James tries very hard to look as though he's not paying attention to your squirming unhappiness at the fit and look of your clothes. You get more and more embarrassed as time moves forward. The attendant Sirius summoned, a tailor named Melinda, offers suggestions of alterations and what she thinks would suit your silhouette most. 

"Do I have one?" you ask.

"A silhouette?" Melinda asks, a push pin in between her teeth. "Sure you do." 

"My stomach–" 

"Is that a problem area?" Melinda asks. 

"I thought so–" 

"If you're worried, we can find something that fits the to the chest and loosens at your abdomen," Sirius says, "but I don't think you need to worry." 

James agrees. You aren't skinny and James isn't stupid, he knows the immense stigma surrounding your body type must have battered your self-esteem growing up, but he thinks you're pretty and that you've a lovely shape to you. The idea that you have to hide certain body parts when there's nothing wrong with them in the first place has him biting his tongue, wanting to comment and knowing he definitely should not. You've looked nice in everything you've put on, smart and proper for an unfortunate event. 

"I don't know," you mumble. 

Sirius has amazing crisis averting senses, having micromanaged a spoiled narcissist for years. You don't require nearly as much petting or fawning, and you aren't throwing a tantrum either way. 

"Let's finish for today," he says. "We can look at everything with fresh eyes, and I'm off at three."   

James cringes and Melinda looks at him like he's grown a second head; you don't mention the end of a shift in front of the royals. He knows this, and he knows that you don't know this, so Sirius is absolutely pushing his luck. You're a thoughtful girl —you immediately agree. 

Though that might be on account of how you look like you've been thrown a life raft. "Okay, thank you," you say, beginning to put clothes back on their hangers. 

Sirius waves you away. "Leave some work for the rest of us, Your Sweetness." 

Again, second head. 

James opens the door and takes you back through the maze of the Palace before Sirius can commit a sackable offence. You're as quiet as you've been all day, your footsteps the only proof that you're present as you climb the steps to the second floor. 

Professionalism, James thinks. 

"I think you looked nice in everything," he says. 

The opposite of professionalism. Oh, he could vault over the bannister. 

He just wanted to see you smile today, a real smile, or at least hear something sure in your voice that proves he's made the right decision. That you won't be totally miserable if he convinces you to take on the mantle. 

"Yeah?" you say, though you don't give him any time to answer. "I don't– I don't want to look good for a funeral, it's a funeral, but I know it'll be on TV, and maybe in the newspapers, so I don't want to be badly dressed and I don't have a clue what I'm supposed to even like…" You nibble your lip for a while before heaving a big sigh. "Sorry, I'm doing this again, I'm giving you jobs that aren't your job." 

"It's relatively easy to tell you that you looked good. It's not a job." 

"You don't have to comfort me, is what I mean." 

"That's also easy… and it will definitely be in the newspapers. For a long time."

"Oh, sugar." 

James holds his hand out as you trip up a short step, but you don't fall, and you don't need his offered help. He tucks his hand behind his back again and follows your lead. 

"Newspapers, the news in general, people, they can all be very, very horrible, but I think the focus will be on your DNA, rather than your outfit. I mean, the gossip rags and tabloids will absolutely pick you apart, but they do it everybody, and I won't let you read those." 

People are cruel. They don't even realise it. 

"Whatever outfit you choose, you'll look good, and people will hate it anyway," he says. 

"That sounds awful." 

"It is. But… they can't stop you from being you. It's better to do what you want to do without worrying about how it'll look to everyone on the outside. You should do what you think is right." 

Okay, he's not exclusively talking about clothes anymore, but his point stands. 

"What if I look like an idiot?" you ask him quietly. 

"You'll look like an exceedingly well-dressed one." 

A sharp veer. Even the word 'professionalism' is starting to annoy him. 

"Don't stress, yeah? We'll work it all out tomorrow." 

You rub your elbow as the two of you approach your room again. "Thanks, James." 

He's on a knife's edge here. Break the rules and face Mary's wrath. Stick to them blindly and drive you further and further from the crown. 

James, selfishly, needs you to want this. And if you need a friend, a real friend, to do that, then he can toe the line. He decides it right there on your door jam.

"Princess," he says, "I have to talk to you about something." 

"Okay… what is it?" 

"When you go home, I'll be coming with you." 

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! if you did, I’d love it if you let me know <3 also sry the next part should hopefully be delivered faster lol

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

the abandonment issues au,,

where Sun and Moon gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss their way into ur heart

and then turn into sad wet baby kittens when u find out and call them out on it <3

(copy and pasted from the space aces discord, sorry fellas lmao)

abandonment issues au:

ok what if. fucked up au time

where. reader is the new daycare assistant or a mechanic or smthn idk theyre working withh Sun and Moon thats the important part

i think it works better if theyre like, Sun n Moon's handler? Bc they r closer that way and it makes it more fucked up lmaooooo

so basically. this takes place right after Sun n Moon had their best friend-handler person leave bc Sun n Moon had been acting increasingly volatile n buggy n rlly just having issues but the more the previous handler tried to talk to them abt it and fix it the more they got anxious abt getting decommissioned and would cover up the problems n act like nothing was wrong

and eventually one day the previous handler nearly got rlly hurt and knew they had to leave bc it wasn't safe for them and they left a detailed warning/report for the mechanics

(and they didnt say goodbye, not out of malice or anything just bc they didnt want even more reasons for Sun n Moon to act up/potentially hurt them or themselves)

so. the mechanics did a total clean up of Sun n Moon's system, basically left their memories but scrubbed their data of a lot of the 'feelings' they'd had- mostly wiping away the feelings tied to 'good' memories, and the only thing Sun n Moon could do to fill in the void of 'feelings' was assign different feelings in their place, so when they once looked back and felt happy or nostalgic, now they feel confused and angry and sad and betrayed bc why was all of that happiness taken from them?? why did their handler hurt them like this??

so the scrubbing of their systems, which was one thing they really really didn't want to have done for fear of losing their memories entirely, DID work in putting their issues on a much lower level,, but it didn't get rid of the issues entirely. Now they're just,, easier to hide or play off or ignore. They're careful around the kids, of course, but they do at times have trouble with their motor controls or their speech will glitch slightly, etc

a few handlers come and go, never staying for more than a week or so- none of them really care about the job, don't see Sun n Moon as coworkers but more like fancy 'machines' with no real thoughts or emotions, they normally leave after Sun or Moon has a glitchy moment and nearly hurts them or, in at least one case, does hurt them by squeezing their wrist too hard. more often than not, the ppl applying for the position read the list of warnings n cautions and are like 'hell nahh' and bail immediately

then. in comes,, reader. local dumbass. most endearing of idiots. a bit dense. very much clueless. dearly beloved

you're the first one to really treat them like your coworkers, making small talk and being friendly and kind and patient and laughing at their jokes. you smile when you introduce yourself, offering your hand for them to shake- not afraid of them or their little twitches at all. god, how they missed that. you remind them of their previous handler, if only in how you see them like theyre people and not machines.

and they make a mutual agreement to do whatever they can to keep you as their handler. even if it means dodging around company rules and policies by doing something like crumpling up the confidential 'warning' forms, ortelling the occasional white lie, like forging your signature onto the papers when your back is turned and making sure it makes it to your manager without either of you noticing who exactly was putting it on their desk.

you've already started calling them your friends the first time they have a glitchy moment. you're doing detailing work on their endoskeleton, really just cleaning dust away and making sure everything looks the way it does in the manual, when they break something- a tablet, a pen, your phone, whatever it is, it happens in an instant and startles you.

when Sun n Moon come to and realize whats happened theyre terrified. what if you use this as some kind of excuse to leave? What if you abandon them, just like their previous handler did? What if you start treating them differently, or you tell the staff that they need to be scrapped

so when you ask what that was about, they're frantic, quick to come up with something, anything that might make you shrug and forget all about it,

"Well, you WERE just working on their insides, right? That must have been something YOU did to suddenly make us do something like THAT! There's no way else it could have happened. Right?"

You take the lie hook, line, and sinker, apologizing profusely, promising to try harder to make sure nothing like that happens again. The relief they feel is almost euphoric. They pat you on the head kindly, reassuring you that they know you didn't do it on purpose, it was just a little mess up! You're fine, friend, we forgive you.

From then on, they dodge blame and truth alike, most often redirecting your attention to something you must have said or done to make something so strange and out of character for them happen so suddenly, and you believe them, full of apologies and careful words and actions and nervous worrying about doing things wrong and hurting them somehow. It's cute, how anxious you can get. It's cuter, how you melt for their comfort and reassurance. 

They play the song and dance with you again and again, weaving doubt and guilt into you more and more frequently. Until one day, you mumble something about how 'maybe i'm not cut out for this, maybe i should switch to be on the janitorial team instead, or some other department, i don't want to hurt you guys, or-or be the reason someone else gets hurt, i clearly dont know what im doing, and it's only gotten worse, maybe i should talk to my manager,,' and they panic

don't be silly, friend!!!! you can't just leave like that, what about the kids, what about that puppet show you had helped them plan, did you really want to just abandon all that?? so what if maybe they had the occasional hiccup, you were always there to smooth it over, who cared whether they dropped things from time to time, or- or broke a toy or two, that didn't matter, did it??? You were getting so good at being their handler, your little mistakes were normal, come on, you don't want to leave your very best friends. Do you?

and you cave, agreeing to stay, and they are so, so extremely careful to hide their little moments from you for several weeks, making sure you don't notice their tiny twitches or split seconds of glitchy voices, maybe keeping a closer eye on you than would be comfortable, watching over your shoulder each time you type up a report about the day, giving the manager a loathsome glower behind your back whenever they happen by,, and every time you leave you say 'i'll see you guys tomorrow!,' they grab onto your sleeve and respond with 'promise?' so you always know that they really, really do want you to come back

and then. one day,, you decide to go looking in their files for something small and silly, like what kinds of updates had been added to their pick-up protocols, and you find the warnings and cautions forms

and you see your signature on them, but you would definitely remember this and you are absolutely certain you have never seen these papers in your life. and you take the papers and you go to ask them about it.

"i thought you said you never had any problems before? you told me you never had any issues before but this- this is full of things that you- and you, you've been having these problems for that long??"

they stumble over their words, frantic, panicked, backpedaling on everything theyve ever said, trying meekly to grab the papers from your hands, piling excuses on excuses 

"you knew? you knew you were having these problems, and you didn't tell me? and you- you told me it was my fault!"

you're close to tears, hurt that they lied more than anything. you keep backing away from them, dodging their attempts to get the forms. they don't know which is worse- seeing that look on your face, or when they were left without so much as a goodbye.

"you could have told me. i thought i was the reason for everything, i thought i was hurting you, and you just... you lied right to my face and let me think that."

theyre putting on their best soothing voice, movements slow and gentle, wanting to comfort you and wipe those tears away and reassure you somehow that this- this isn't their fault, none of it is, it never was, they're fine and you're fine and nothing was ever wrong, and everything will be fine if only you calm down and stay

you can tell they arent really listening. you take a deep breath and turn away from them, scraping the tears from your face. you tell them you're going to go home and write up a report about all of this and when you come back you can go over it together before you send it to management, but right now you're leaving because you need space to breathe and time to think

but all they hear is that you're leaving, and they panic.

they don't hurt you, of course! but right now you're not allowed to leave.

you try to shut out the sound of them crying and apologizing and begging, even if it breaks your heart, because right now all you want to do is go home and lie in your stupid bed and have a stupid cry in your favorite pajamas. but you try every door you can think of- none of them open. you've sstayed past closing more than once, but the doors aren't normally shuttered for another two hours,, and you're pretty sure the night guard isn't even here yet

the entire time you're walking around the 'plex, Moon is trailing sadly behind you, waiting with the saddest, most pathetic wet cat look an animatronic can achieve, for you to turn and face them again

and thus begins what is probably the longest night of your life, spent trying to avoid your animatronic friends/coworkers who are acting like the worlds clingiest ex who just got broken up with and who can't stop dropping sad love songs in ur dms

by the time morning rolls around, they agree to actually go to parts n services and cooperate and try their best to get whatever is wrong with them repaired, even if it means they might get decomissioned. in the mean time, you promise to come back once they're fixed and work with them to help them get back to their old selves- or at least, back to how they were before any potentially dangerous bugs

basically this is the 'sun and moon have abandonment issues and gaslight you abt it' au

idk what else would happen tbh idk why i thought this au needed to exist either but here we are *lays facedown in a puddle*

#bones of a rabbit #bones of a rabbit au #fnaf au #fnaf sun/moon #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf dca #fnaf sun/moon x reader #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf moon x reader #au ideas #idea rambles #rambling #tw gaslighting #tw jealousy #tw obsessive behavior #tw possessive behavior #clingy sun and moon #tw guilt #abandonment issues au #abandonment au #they r very mentally ill ur honor #long post #fnaf fanfic

[silliest-heartaches]

Ohh my god DRINKKK!! Dude I love them sooo muchhh. I just love imagining them being head over heels for each other yet constantly denying their feelings, because of how they view themselves, yet still finding comfort and solace with each other. They are so. YES. PERFECT. AUGH.

SHARE MORE ABOUT THEM PLEASE!!!

And I love how you use they/them for Ink and she/her for Dream!!

GOD YEAH I LIKE THEM SO INCREDIBLY MUCH... tbh the main reason i started liking them was bc i was thinking abt them and how doomed yuri coded they were and. The worms Wormed in from there,,,,

I actually use he/they and she/they for ink and dream respectively but!!!!!! I love all hcs and interpretations of them for REAL. nonbinary people who are gay as fuck for real,, very inherrently queer ship regardless of how u see either of them i think...heart seeing them as t4t transmasc and transfem forever personally though so thats what i see em as hehe,, also in my head theyre both aroacespec (though the specifc kind varies from au to au though i do consistently see ink as ace and dream as demiaro :>>)

Im not sure how long these will be so...hcs under the cut lol

- okay well while in my mind while error is technically the First Entity ink sees that isnt just a normal entity, dream is like their First. Friend. you know. Like when error first saw him he was screaming and crying for the hills bc it was also his first time seeing another outcode so. that reaction BUT with dream she was more filled with gentle confusion... this is a bit after she unstoned in the apple incident but still was new to au hopping and naive to most danger so they became friends!!! Questionably so.

-to elaborate, when they first meet dream is still stuck on the ideals of toxic positivity and pushing through hardship no matter what... i think this is something they eventually grow out of and dream will eventually learn to see the need for balance eventually but one of their first disputes happens when ink is running low on ink and most of whats left are the Negative Emotions within him alongside the especially strong panic that he usually feels when they get like this... dream would try to comfort him and try to say that itll work out in the end no matter what and that they just need to push through and that itll be okay like normal comforting words because dream is an empath and can sense feelings right,,i feel like its comforting in some cases but when things get Really Bad and especially when the main reserves of feelings that ink has are Negative, they heavily override his normal sense of self and i imagine they get a lot more. Snappy.... theres also the additional hc thingy of ink also really overexaggerating his feelings and overplaying them a lot for the sake of trying to feel more intensely (doesnt work, just drains him faster and will never truly feel natural to him...personally think that ink feels a lot of disconnect from his feelings) which could be considerably offputting to dream (though before adding swap to the group she thought it wass normal because she had only seen the fake pretend nice joy of the village influenced by her aura and not Genuine Feelings)

I think eventually through the years they would learn a lot from eachother...like with ink learning to be more naturally charismatic and dream learning to see past toxic positivity and have his perception on emotions change for the better (ie in learning that having different emotions are okay, so long as there is a balance)

id do alot more hcs but tbh what it boils down to is: toxic codependent yuri. intensely up and down relationship where theres an insane amount of love and attachment but also a lack of self from the both of them because they are only able to see themselves as a Thing to the other. Also exes who turned out to be besties. Thry got together and broke up wayyy before blue (they casually tell him stories about it and for the parts that he does know about he is horrified for.) Oh and they share hobbies and do parallel play alot. dream is more music oriented and can play the cello and flute. ink can play the ukelele but hes more familiar with drawing and painting duh. Also they have a garden. they love growing flowers but their favourites are sunflowers. Also have writing sessions together. Also may/may not also have beautiful princess disorder. (The both of them)

im so sorry this is so incoherrent but erm. yeah im very normal abt them (half of this stuff comes from oc projection the other half is like. Mental illness while in the shower tbh)

#feysanity #drink ship #dream x ink #ink sans #dream sans #undertale #utmv #undertale fanart #headcanons #nonnies :> #fumbles :>

[mwahmwahkissesdarling]

My A'aru, My Heaven

Pairing: Ahkmenrah x Fem/Maybe Genderfluid Reader

Summary: A taste testing night with a sprinkle of love (and religion ig)

Warnings: Kissing, fluff, extreme fluff, err fluff, more fluff, Cussing maybe, spelling and grammar mistakes, controversial topic, religion, me writing Christianity as someone who is not Christian, uhhh lmk if i need to put any other warnings???? idk

Note: yall the ahkmenrah brain rot is ... rotting? my brain? so hard

Alsooooooo this is my first fic (on this acc, posted anyway) so be easy

*A'aru is the Egyptian equivalent of Heaven for Christians <33 #wikipedia

You rip open a colorful package and hand it to Ahkmenrah.

"Here, these are gummy worms."

The Pharoah looked alarmed. "You eat…worms?"

You laugh. "Theyre not real worms. Here, just try one."

Ahk glances at you, unconvinced, but he takes a red and blue gummy in between his fingers and nibbles at it.

"Hm."

"Well?" You bit into yours and watched his reaction.

He shrugs. "Theyre… enjoyable, I suppose, but I don't prefer them myself."

You grin. "Yeah, me niether, I just wanted to see what you thought." You turn in your criss-cross-applesauce position on the floor in Ahkmen's exhibit to pick out a new candy and come back with two tin wrapped chocolate pieces. Picking one out, you hand it to him. "Have a Kiss," you joke.

Ahk stares at the candy in his hand, then back at you. "S-sorry?"

You look back at him, then realizing he wouldn't know the name of this candy, you laugh. "It's the name of the candy. Hershey Kisses." He slowly smiles. "Well, I wouldn't say no to a kiss, either." You roll your eyes. "Seriously-"

Ahk cuts you off with his lips. You lean into the kiss, setting your 'Kiss' down and running your hands up his torso and into his hair, letting your fingers tangle there. He cups your face with one hand and places the other on his sarcophagus case behind you, pressing you against it. You let him, knowing he usually doesn't take control like this.

After a moment, Ahk breaks away and breaths heavily, catching his breath.

"Do I really take away your breath that bad?" You joke, panting.

He runs his thumb against your bottom lip, his eyes flitting between your lips and your eyes. "Yes," He says simply. "You do."

You feel yourself blush and you smile. "Love you too, Ahk," was all you could get out.

Ahk smiles back and brushes his lips against your temple, then leans back, letting you have your space to continue taste-testing modern candy.

You resume your earlier position and cross your legs, pressing your knee against his as you grab your Hersheys. "Come on, eat it."

He groans but takes it and unwraps it with your guidance. He pops it into his mouth and his eyes widen.

You grin at him. "Right? Personally I prefer caramel with my chocolate, but I figured start small, y'know?"

Ahk slowly chews it. "Holy Ra. This is chocolate?" His mouth is still full, and you giggle at his bad manners. "Don't talk with your mouth full. Come on, King Ahkmenrah, fourth king of the fourth kingdom of Egypt and all things fancy, have better manners." You tease and pause. "But yeah, it's chocolate. Although I'd describe it as heaven."

The Pharoah glanced at you, opening another Hershey. "I thought you said that was a place."

You nod, taking the Kiss out of his hands, throwing in the air, and catching it with your mouth. "Yeah. The place that Christians beleive is the perfect afterlife."

Ahk glares at you but otherwise ignores your theft. "You cant call a taste or an object heaven, then. It'd go against grammar rules and the belief of a Chrisin."

Swallowing, you shrug. "First of all, it's Christian, second of all, I don't think they care anymore, although don't quote me on that. My ma's Christian, and she refers to my mother as heaven."

He frowns, thinking. "So, you can call your other half 'heaven'?"

"Some people do," you pause. "Well. I've only ever heard it from my parents, and also Bruno Mars, but I think if someone says it in public, it's considered PDA. Public displays of affection." You reply to his confused look.

Ahk nods. "And thats… frowned upon." You make an "eh" sound. "Well, people don't particularly like it, but it's not as bad as, like, racism or something. Far from it." You scoff.

"So, for a… hypothetical example… I could call you heaven, but only in… private."

You turn and stare at him, a blush forming "W-well, yes, I-"

He kisses you, effectively shutting you up. You lose all train of thought, lost in his touch. He pulls you close, practically onto his lap before pulling away.

"You're my heaven." Ahk smiles at you, and you smile back.

"And you're my A'aru."

Your Pharoah, your king, your Ahk, your little slice of heaven, in your little corner of home.

#ahkmenrah x reader #ahkmenrah fluff #natm #natm ahkmenrah #ahkmenrah natm #x reader fluff #egyptian pharoah x reader #egyptian pharoah x reader fluff #NATM #Ahk x reader #ahk x reader #ahkxreader

[weirdmageddon]

yesterday i wrote a scene where jade wasnt a plot device and was left the hell alone in A6A5 because this being dave and jade’s last proper conversation in years made me sad and i wanted to see them reunite properly. i mixed a bit of narration in too even though it was rare around this point in the comic but its just to paint a better picture. also i wouldnt mind feedback on character voice (it’s important to me that the dialogue sounds believable)

[3 years are over, everyone is in the new session. The prospit ship is on LOMAX, as is everyone who arrived on the meteor, safely warped by Jade onto LOMAX as well. Jade has banished B2 Jack to the Furthest Ring already. She hasn't seen her friends in 3 years, not to mention she never met the trolls in person yet.]

[Jade teleports to LOMAX where John was talking with the meteor crew. Her eyes widen when she sees the trolls, giving everyone a greeting. Jade waves to the trolls.]

You’ll have time to catch up with them later. First you want to reconvene with Rose and Dave.

> ==>

Dave... Oh my god! DAVE!!! That’s right! The last time you saw him, he died in your arms after Jack redirected the bullets from your gun into his body!

JADE: dave!!!! DAVE: hey DAVE: this has been three years coming hasnt it DAVE: cmere

> ==>

[Dave hugs Jade with a slight grin on face. He notices her… sniffing him?? but doesn’t even bother to question it.]

JADE: it is so nice to hold your body when its not a corpse :) DAVE: ok DAVE: weird thing to say DAVE: actually who am i kidding who gives a shit DAVE: i almost forgot how much i missed the enigmatic riddlefuckery that is your phrasing DAVE: fortunately i have context for this so i know what youre saying DAVE: humor me for a sec and imagine that i didnt DAVE: but first DAVE: are those dog ears JADE: yes! i am part dog now JADE: because i prototyped my dreamself with becsprite JADE: jadesprite became part of me! and so did her doggy traits from bec DAVE: got it DAVE: oh yeah john mentioned that on the back of his dumb poster inside that bucket that appeared out of thin air DAVE: right before we had to haul ass out of there before jack caught up to us DAVE: karkat had a complete fucking meltdown over that btw i wish you couldve seen it DAVE: damn it feels like so long ago now JADE: heheheh i remember JADE: john realized it at the last second but it was too late! DAVE: of course it was johns idea only he could do something that gooberish DAVE: you know what this means though JADE: yup!! woof woof DAVE: it means youve done it harley DAVE: youve finally done it god damn it DAVE: the evolution of humankind is finally upon us DAVE: the scientists said it would never happen in our lifetime DAVE: but look what we have here DAVE: before me stands mans first legitimate furry subspecies DAVE: homo canis DAVE: as the name implies theyre gay as fuck btw DAVE: its too bad all those scientists are dead and cant witness this phylogenetic breakthrough DAVE: rip to the science community yall wouldve lost your collective shit DAVE: hey jade lets pour one out for the science community for being real ones

> ==>

You are still nestled into Dave’s shoulder. He’s taken a sort of protective position over you. Your perceptive barkbeast ears can hear his formerly bullet-riddled heart beating a mile a minute with the regularity of quartz beneath his time-branded pajamas, all the while he continues to ramble to you about certifiably dumb shit. You can tell Dave is psyched to see you again, even if he expresses it in his OWN bizarre way, which means extended metaphors and topical tangents. What a hypocrite, calling YOUR phrasing perplexing! You sure missed this guy.

You realize you started tuning him out while thinking about all this.

DAVE: jade JADE: umm homo is the species name JADE: so wouldnt that mean were all gay? :p DAVE: yeah that sounds about right DAVE: anyway enough of this bullshit

> ==>

[Dave motions to retract his arms since he doesn’t want it to get too weird, but Jade squeezes tighter. Dave immediately yields to the movement]

DAVE: jesus wow ok DAVE: really happy to see you too DAVE: like if you had a tail it would be wagging so forcefully youd be knocking over all the fucking furnishings in the room DAVE: just slapping it so hard on the owners thigh that it feels like theyre being flogged DAVE: talk about getting bitch slapped JADE: :D DAVE: so howve you been JADE: really really excited to see you guys all again!!! JADE: and to meet the trolls! DAVE: yeah theyre pretty weird DAVE: and im still not used to it DAVE: but it gets more manageable the longer youre around them DAVE: by the way JADE: ?

> ==>

DAVE: sorry you had to go through that JADE: through what? DAVE: seeing me die and stuff again DAVE: except that time right in front of you JADE: .... DAVE: when we were gathering up all those frogs i knew jack was going to appear DAVE: i was waiting and waiting to play it out DAVE: mentally rehearsing my fucking torso getting turned into swiss cheese and knowing you would have to watch on top of it DAVE: i had to make sure it happened to protect the integrity of the alpha timeline DAVE: but if you knew this was going to happen you wouldve tried to prevent it and created a doomed one DAVE: and so i didnt say anything DAVE: i couldnt DAVE: so DAVE: sorry for putting you through that JADE: oh..... JADE: dave D: JADE: well im here JADE: if you ever want to talk about it DAVE: its cool DAVE: you just deserve to know what happened there DAVE: but thanks DAVE: so am i JADE: yeah i know JADE: i guess i should be glad you did that then... JADE: even though i was freaking out when it happened ._. JADE: otherwise you wouldnt be here will us now dressed in your red god tier time pajamas DAVE: yeah these magical rags really are comfortable arent they DAVE: and they stay like perma clean JADE: they are! i would wear mine over and over for days on end JADE: id take a nice shower and put it right back on JADE: and you know how much i love cycling my outfits through my wardrobifier JADE: by the way dave your cape is sooo cool! :o DAVE: thanks DAVE: yeah i love it its hella soft DAVE: its like ive got a portable snuggle blanket with me in case i ever need to drop to the floor like a tired sack of shit and get my snooze on DAVE: ive got a permanent personal reservation at club bed featuring dj pillow and mc blanky JADE: heheheh JADE: can i touch your cape? DAVE: of course go nuts JADE: yaaaay!!

#hs #homestuck #davejade #dave strider #jade harley #my hs dialogues

[animeyanderelover]

Hey! I love your writing!

Could i request headcanons of Yandere Douma with a member of the eternal paradise cult that has never asked him for anything despite the fact he's essentially their god. They assume hes probably stressed hearing and trying to fix other people's problems all the time so they never ask him to fix their life but theyre a diligent worshipper and helper around the cult.

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, manipulation, sadism, isolation

Tags: @leveyani @kanaosprotector

It must be tough to be a god

❄️​What others may only see as utter terror if they would know what is going on behind closed shoji doors is viewed as an act of kindness by Douma. The consumption of his followers is a sign of mercy and kindness as he frees them from their pitiful and pathetic human lives by devouring them. How can those creatures not be tormented by their own existence after all? Their bodies age and decay, their beauty vanishes and in the greater order of things they are flies just waiting to be swatted away and to be forgotten. Needless to say, he looks at your kind with rather condescending opinions yet such thoughts only convince him further of his good deeds. He lends them an ear when they seek him out, desperate and in agony, their heart shackled with chains only he can take off. He has always listened and given words of comfort and as empty as they may be, they latch on them like a leech does on human skin.

❄️​You are one of many faces in his cult, one that should be meant to be forgotten when your time eventually comes. Through hard word and sheer dedication though, you have earned yourself a position where you spend more time with Douma than the average follower. It is a honor you humbly accept as you work earnestly to do your assigned duty and the expectations of everyone justice. You gladly accept all compliments given to you by other worshipper in the cult yet Douma's words of gratitude are the ones that make your heart race the most, although you never let those sweet words get to your head. You believe that one shouldn't slack off because of kind words and compliments and that one should work hard and do their best every day to achieve self-control and inner peace. You fulfill your duties remarkably well and always look out if Douma should need something which you will then promptly arrange for him.

❄️​He praises you for your diligent performance and your hard work yet those words do not match his low thoughts. Douma is quite used to seeing little things like you who would do everything for him in hopes of gaining his attention and his affection. Surely you must be the same. A desperate, little thing who is prying for his love by working so exceptionally hard. He has always entertained such pathetic feelings as it is his duty to cater to the worries of his followers and he thinks that it is time for him to reward you too. What is it that your heart desires most right now? Tell him and he'll see it through to fulfill that little wish of yours. He expects you to utter the common wish of wanting his affection and attention, of the forbidden desire to be claimed by him, even if just for one night. Yet you don't fall for his seductive tone and the temptation of his body so close to yours as you express to him that you have no other wish than continuing to serve him loyally as you have done all this time before.

❄️​Your response puzzles the demon as he has never received such an answer to his offer. He makes no attempt to stop you though as you distance yourself from his body and excuse yourself before heading out, though he tilts his head curiously as his colorful eyes move with you until you are out of his sight. It is only after you have left that Douma fully recognises what has happened and as soon as he has realised, he can't help but let out a rather excited giggle. You denied his offer. You rejected him! Maybe if any of his other followers would have known about your behavior they would have ganged up on you to punish you for your rude and dismissive behavior. Yet the emotions rushing through Douma's veins are far from displeased in that moment as he finds himself rather curious and thrilled all of a sudden as he has never had someone treat him the way you just treated him. It is only the start of his obsession.

❄️​Suddenly you find yourself as the unfortunate target of almost all of his obsession as his attention is solely fixed on you. Boredom has been his only true companion that has always been with him even during his human years yet for the first time in his life he is experiencing something that isn't just a shallow and fleeting emotion. For the first time he sees a bit more worth in a human than what he normally thinks of them and it is rather thrilling to feel. Douma always appears in the places where he knows you are at the moment and successfully distracts you from your duties, quite displeased when you don't give all of your attention to him. You can feel his eyes on you even if you don't face him though and even if you are a dutiful worshipper, you tend to feel a bit creeped out by his behavior. He can't seem to hold out even a minute without asking you something or interrupting you otherwise as the feeling of boredom returns as soon as you don't pay attention to him.

❄️​Despite the rather childish and clingy attitude he suddenly expresses when he is around you, Douma is still quite observant. The demon is aware that you only tolerate this behavior of his because he is the leader of this cult. If it would have been anyone else, you would have given them already an earful. He wonders how far he can take this? If he would have been an honorable man, he would have felt guilty for suddenly abusing his power over you to invade your privacy, to touch you and to downright molest you at times. He isn't though and he will never be. He takes delight in listening how your heartbeat always picks up when he touches you, his hands lingering as they slowly rub up and down your body and watching how you can only uncomfortably squirm whilst his hands linger. You are normally always rather composed and calm so it is quite fun to be the reason for you to lose your facade. Perhaps he can coax you into requesting something special of him if he shows you his interest so boldly.

❄️​You remain unwilling to ask anything of him even as he continues expressing his interest in you through caresses and touches which soon has Douma wondering if you keep something from him. All of his followers have worries and wishes they confess to him yet only you have never made use of his services. Do you not trust him? Is that it? As fun and exciting your different attitude is, if you don't trust him that is a little bit of an issue that bothers Douma the more he thinks about it. He finds himself being rather straightforward this time without playing around as he asks you this question as soon as you have appeared before him due to him having sent for you. It is quite hard to decipher his true feelings as he still keeps a grin on his face, although his eyes are sharp and intense as he expects an answer from you. You see yourself pressured to answer his question, watching nervously as he tilts his head before he suddenly lets out an amused chuckle.

❄️​Your answer is just as adorable as you, you know? It is quite interesting that you have such silly worries, although he does feel quite flattered to know that you care that much about him. Though you should know that it is quite frustrating for him as you don't open up to him as much as all other followers yet it is you he has the most interest in. Be assured that it would sadden him more if you were to keep secrets and thoughts away from him. Those friendly words of his still hold a silent demand for you to open up all of your thoughts for him because Douma finds himself slowly feeling impatient that you keep such a wonderful mind away from him. If you still dare to hold on to your unwanted worries and deny him, you'll have to live with the punishment he as your god will give you. If you do not give him what he desires, he'll get it himself. There is a lot you don't know about each other after all but he'll be happy to share all of his secrets with you and find out all of yours in return.

#yandere demon slayer #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere kny #yandere douma #yandere x you #kny x you

[enwonz]

♫ i can see you x sparks fly | y.jw

as your eternal academic rival, you and jungwon have always been at odds - that is, until he becomes the one person you want to trust your heart with in spite of it all. after all, all’s fair in love and war, no?

read the rest of the series here! (for taglist)

pairing ➭ academic rival jungwon x reader

genre ➭ academic rivals to dubious to lovers, hurt/comfort, academic validation craving, jungwon is reader’s sole comfort

w/c ➭ 5.4k

warnings ➭ slightly suggestive (they’re adults but no nsfw y’all), reader and jungwon both have terrible coping mechanisms for stress, there is a detailed scene where y/n loses her shit in a bathroom, both are academic validation simps, theyre not enemies they just. envy each other and sometimes wanna kiss kiss fall in love, y/n has an inferiority complex and has a tendency to think jungwon’s better than her, she hates herself as much as i hate myself

a/n ➭ to my acad validation peeps…look no further! jungwon and y/n…their ways of coping with themselves are mine. i just split myself in two for them, don’t come for my lonely ass lmao. for more context, look at the bottom a/n!

“done?”

the sun’s beginning to set, its dimming rays beaming through the glass windows of the library. a quick glance at your watch tells you it’s 6.30pm, and that you’ve been studying for the whole day. talk about a productive saturday.

you remove your headphones, glancing over your shoulder. you were planning on staying till the librarian shoos you out. jungwon seems to have other plans, though.

yang jungwon, your rival in just about everything since you were kids. tied with you in every single subject, even PE. he’s everything you are and more – good-looking, funny, and a genius, to top it all off, and he never lets you forget it, what with all the achievements he’s gotten over you. it’s not that he doesn’t work hard and you’re jealous of some natural academic gift he’s got, it’s the fact that you study just as hard as he does, do as much as he does, and yet people will always see him before you. and now, even when you’re at university, he’s still fighting with you for the top spot, for every position available. your circle of friends have remained the same, so like it or not, you’re stuck together.

you begin to stuff your notes into your backpack. “well, i might as well follow you back to the dorms. yunjin’s been lecturing me to stop walking back alone.” gathering your things, you leave, waving to the librarian as you attempt to put some distance between you and jungwon.

very quickly, jungwon moves beside you so his shoulder is almost pressed up against yours. “you sure took your time. if i hadn’t come to find you, the last bus across campus would’ve come and gone by the time you finished.”

“oh, don’t exaggerate. why’d you come here in the first place, when all you do is complain?” 

you want to say you hate the boyish grin that breaks out across his face, but that would be a lie, and you’ve done way too much lying today to yourself. “what else? i came here for you.”

“ugh, you-!”

“you ears are red, haha.”

your bus pulls into the stop, and in a thoughtless attempt at revenge, you grab his arm and yank him up the steps so he’s even closer to you than before. you don’t miss the way his skin flushes hot.  “now yours are too.” leading him to a seat in the back, you pinch his side. he returns your…affection with a jab in the cheek. 

it’s a game of cat and mouse with jungwon, although neither of you can say for sure who’s chasing and who’s ducking away. whatever this is, it’s safer. 

at least you’re not actually fighting anymore.

here’s the thing: yang jungwon has this journal. every time he’s upset or on the verge of a mental breakdown, he trauma dumps into that journal. it’s the only way he doesn’t cave from the stress, and you and your friends learned very quickly that if that notebook was out, everyone had to leave him alone for at least ten minutes, then he’d be himself again. one day, you’d been studying together when a draft blew the pages of his journal open, straight to the page where he’d written something that was definitely not for your eyes — or anyone’s for that matter. 

“i hate her, so so much i wish she was dead. maybe in a different lifetime, i’ll be better than her, have her beat for once.” you didn’t even need to finish reading what he wrote before you were clawing at his throat, because who else could it be but you?

and it hurt to read it, because what could it mean than yang jungwon was jealous of you? what could it mean that the one person you simultaneously hated and envied, hated you back for all the same reasons? it wasn’t fair that you couldn’t even hate him peacefully.

it only got worse from there, because all it took was a couple minutes of yelling at each other before that ass of a human being decided it was a good idea to tell you it was “three years ago”, and that it shouldn’t matter as much as it did, as if that was supposed to help. and you’d screamed at him, screamed and cried and shoved him and-

his lips were against yours. 

you would’ve pushed him off, but as soon as it came it went, and he’d pulled away faster than you could think. “i don’t hate you,” he’d managed to make out, his voice shaky as he tried and failed to recollect his thoughts. “i just…i can’t hate you. not anymore.”

hell, maybe it was the attention, or some sort of sick stress outlet. you wish it were the latter, because then that would’ve been a hell lot easier. either way, you haven’t spoken about it since then, reason being you’re totally out of your comfort zone when it comes to this guy. plus, he’d taken your first kiss, although he didn’t have to know that. having put your all into your academic life, you haven’t really thought about dating anyone at all. sure, there were a few people whom you’d thought were fairly attractive, but you had never cared to do anything more than that (much less with yang freaking jungwon). your ultimate goal has always been to have jungwon beat. you sort of achieved that, you suppose. the boy’s now a mess when it comes to you. 

since then, you’ve been using each other as stress relief. stupid, really, but with that annoyingly good kiss still hanging between the two of you, you could only keep coming back for more, waiting for lulls in your timetables to meet up. one thing would lead to another, and…well.

“finished your revision yet?” you probe. if he says no, you’ll just drag him off to finish it. but he’s jungwon. if he says he’s gonna do something, he does it. although it’s sort of disappointing if he just parts ways with you, even after he came all this way to find you so far away from the dorms. 

jungwon sighs. “what do you take me for? of course i did, or you’d get mad at me. and i know you’re free for the rest of the day too.” he rummages through his backpack, before handing you a cap and mask. “put these on, i need a big brute to help me buy and carry groceries back to my dorm.”

“and who better than me, huh?”

jungwon grins, waving a matching set in your face. “you’re the multifaceted necessity in my life. my swiss knife, if you please.”

you end up at a mall just a few kilometres away from campus. apparently, he needs laundry pods, vegetables and some sort of microfibre cloth that “can only be blue, mind you.” according to him, if a hand towel doesn’t match his dorm’s colour scheme, the whole world falls apart. 

(for the record, his dorm room does look nice. but no one has to know that you know.)

pushing a shopping cart along the aisles, a bag of spinach catches your eye. “how’s this for vegetables?”

he shakes his head. “lettuce is better for hotpot.”

“since when did you plan on having hotpot?”

“it’s our dinner, y/n.”

“…”

he sighs. “i’m paying for the groceries.”

“well in that case…” you move to grab a few packets of meat from the fridge. “you won’t mind if i add these, will you?”

you don’t miss his odd gaze on you as he pushes the cart towards the checkout counter. “not at all.”

so much for the grocery shopping.

dinner is long forgotten as you find yourself pinned up against the walls of jungwon’s dorm, his grip on your waist oddly comforting. your fingers are tangled in his dark locks, pulling him in deeper, but it’s not enough. it’s never enough.

it feels so, so wrong, to be rendezvousing with him, and maybe he knows it too, because when he finally pulls away, there’s a guilty look on his face. “strike two…?” he grins sheepishly. he’s a little out of breath, and you hate to admit it, but it’s kind of hot. (actually, it’s the fifth time this week, but who’s counting? definitely not you.)

how? you’d maintained the status quo for more than a decade. hell, you two are supposed to loathe each other. knowing yang jungwon has some sort of feelings for you must be messing with your brain. 

jungwon’s lips latch onto your earlobe, fingers trailing down your nape. it’s crazy, the way every brush of his lips sends your head reeling. over his shoulder, you catch a glimpse of his roommate’s neatly folded quilt, and a thought pops into your mind. “when’s sunoo getting back?”

“he just left for a party, he won’t be back for a bit,” jungwon murmurs. sunoo happens to be part of a circle of close friends consisting of yunjin, sunoo and ni-ki (and jungwon, although you could never admit he’s a friend). you’re a close-knit group, withholding no secrets with each other. more often than not, they’ve been caught up in your fights with jungwon, although those haven’t happened in a while, for obvious reasons.

you hum against his lips, fingernails digging crescent-shaped marks into his skin as you try to steady your breathing. “think the water’s boiled by now, get off.” it’s a half-hearted order, and you’re pretty sure jungwon sees through your bullshit. what was it, something about glass houses?

“don’t wanna.”

“jungwon come on-” the sound of a lock in a key slices through the air, jolting you and jungwon apart. panic flares in your chest, and you scramble to shove jungwon far away from you. “hurry up, hurry up.” 

sunoo’s voice drifts past the door. “must’ve left it in here somewhere, don’t know how i could’ve forgotten my id of all things.” the door opens to reveal a sheepish-looking sunoo, flanked by your friends yunjin and riki, who don’t look very pleased. their expressions, however, change the moment they spot you in the corner. “y/n?! what are you doing here?”

one look at the tiny hotpot contraption on the table, paired with the small portions of food is all they need to put two and two together. yunjin frowns, marching past sunoo. “ohh no, you two in the same room alone is a big no from me. by the time we get back, the whole place is gonna look like hell, with all the screaming and fire.” her disapproving glance at you makes you want to shrivel up and die on the spot. 

“we’ll be studying, don’t worry. we never fight when we’re studying,” jungwon shrugs, shooting a discreet glance in your direction, practically screaming help me.

“yeah see the thing is, you shouldn’t even be fighting-”

“yunjin, don’t.” sunoo takes her by the shoulder, dragging her back out the door. “keep our dorm in one piece, please. we’re off!” while yunjin still believes in peace between the two of you, sunoo’s learnt long ago that interfering with your rivalry only makes things worse. not that you don’t feel a little bad about it.

the door slams shut, leaving you and jungwon alone in the room. it’s an uncomfortable silence, the awkwardness of the interruption still lingering.

“y/n, i-”

you hold out your hand. “give me a moment, gosh.” burying your face in your hands, you groan. “that was probably the worst thing ever. we lied in their faces, they’re gonna kill us if they ever find out.”

you suppose it’s your despair that elicits a sound awfully like a snicker from him. some things never change. “did you see the looks on their faces? they’ll never see it coming.” you finally raise your head, watching as jungwon smirks at you with a conspiratorial glint in his eyes. paired with that loose-fitting hoodie of his, and the sweatpants (grey, no less), you’re simultaneously insanely smitten and utterly appalled by said attraction. why’d he have to be so good-looking? he wasn’t this handsome when you were growing up. yang jungwon is going to be the death of you.

it really does take all your efforts not to just shove him onto the couch and claim his lips for yourself again. and then you nearly faint from the prospect of having that thought at all. hastily, you shove a wad of meat into the boiling pot on the table. “we-we should start eating. don’t want the food to turn bad.”

he shrugs, pulling up a chair opposite you. “don’t mind if i do.”

and if you pop open a couple beers afterward, no one has to know.

shit. shit.

days later, you’re at a study cafe with all your friends. you’ve spent the past hour on this topic, and it’s taking everything inside of you not to smash your laptop in half and bash your head into the debris. what the hell is this? you’re not supposed to be bad at this. a glance at jungwon tells you he’s not having nearly as much trouble as you are, and that’s your breaking point.

panic rises in your throat, your lungs, as your vision blurs. words on the screen start to blend, and you think to yourself, you’re a failure again. worthless no matter how hard you try, breaking apart even while trying to hold yourself together. you can feel every tear leave a searing path down your cheeks, nails clawing for skin to carve red lines into. your eyes burn with the buildup of tears, a telltale sign you’re about to lose your shit. in front of jungwon, no less. just great.  

you stand up abruptly, the legs of your chair screeching as they drag across the floor. “bathroom,” you manage to make out, as you dash across the cafe full of people, praying no pne notices. you fling the bathroom door open, turning on the tap at full blast. you don’t realise it, but your fingers are gripping the edges of the sink with an intensity you didn’t think was possible. 

your eyes flutter shut as you try to calm down, focusing on the flow of the water. it’s not working, but the white noise is more soothing than anything right now. that is, until you hear a clicking sound, followed by arms wrapping around you from behind. judging by the shallow breaths, and the mellow scent of baby lotion, it’s exactly who you think it is.

in your rush, you forgot to lock the door. wonderful.

you lean away from jungwon’s embrace, trying to untangle yourself from him, but he stubbornly holds you tighter. “go back, i’m fine.” you don’t even believe yourself, from the way your voice trembles in between gasps.

he hums, and with your back against his chest you can feel the little vibrations as his speaks. “you don’t say.” he doesn’t continue, and in the silence, your mind stays on the warmth of his body against yours. slowly, you let yourself relax into him. it’s funny, how he can be the problem and the cure at the same time. 

you can feel yourself melting in his arms, your breathing evening out with every second that passes. your heartbeat’s finally slowed to a calmer thrumming, no longer pounding in your ears. suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of his soft sweater against your cheek, and the way a thin piece of fabric is the only thing between your skin and his. 

“how do you do it?”

jungwon frowns. “do what?”

“hold up the world and make everything seem fine, when you know it’s not.”

he falls silent, resting his head in the crook of your neck (it’s becoming a habit of his). “well…it’s easy when it’s for someone else.”

“that so?” you muse, peering back up at him. “even for me?”

the way he averts your gaze is insanely cute. “don’t push it.”

but you know he hasn’t lied to you. since you were kids, jungwon’s never been the kind to wear his heart on his sleeve. he holds everything together, holds everyone together. even now, he’s keeping you from falling apart. but what about him? who’s watching him to keep him from losing it all? you know for sure he’s had his fair share of breakdowns, but your stomach churns at the thought that you’ve never witnessed it. not once. being yang jungwon is lonelier than it seems.

once you’re sufficiently calmed down, you untangle yourself from his embrace. “i’ll, um, head back first. you should wait a few minutes before you go back.”

“right.” glancing down at his feet, jungwon nods. “just…you don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”

you turn to leave, but a question burns all the way down your throat. 

why? would you take it from my hands and bear it with me?

(and what if you wanted to bear his burdens too?)

true enough, your performance on the latest assignment was more than decent — the highest score in your class, in fact. and as always, jungwon’s not far off. your hard work did pay off. funnily enough, you don’t go to rub it in his face like you always used to do.

it seems you’ve changed.

these days, jungwon seems to linger in your head a lot more. and it’s not just the intimate gestures that stay, but the feeling of his arms around you just won’t disappear. every time you’re about to panic, the mere memory of his gentle touch only serves to ground you back to reality. he’s not even physically here, but you don’t need him to be there for him to be your lifeline. how did things even turn out like this? your greatest rival, also your greatest source of comfort.

today, your friends have made plans to head to an amusement park (read: disneyland. because yunjin’s a disney adult in the best sense of the word). you, jungwon, sunoo, yunjin and riki, along with his girlfriend. the dynamic’s great, really, with everyone carrying the mood well so nothing ever feels boring. you’re able to grab a few rides with them, and eventually the group splits for different attractions, and it’s just you, riki and jungwon, waiting for the others to get back from some quirky river ride. you three didn’t bring spare clothes, so you’ll have to sit this one out. parked under a shady tree, you don’t feel the heat nearly as much, but sweat’s starting to make your shirts cling to your backs.

thirty minutes pass, and there’s still no sign of them. riki’s phone pings. “oh, the ride’s delayed. they’re gonna queue for another forty minutes.”

“forty?”

riki shrugs. “it’s a popular ride.”

you rise to your feet. “okay, i’ll go get us some water. you guys stay put.”

fortunately for you, the shop’s got plenty of water bottles, although the marked-up prices do make your wallet cry a little. what you aren’t prepared for, however, is walking back and spotting riki and jungwon huddled under the tree, deep in conversation. quickly, you press your back up to the other side of the tree trunk, hiding in plain sight.

“…you want relationship advice from me?”

jungwon hums. “well, i can’t very well ask sunoo, not when he’s only just stopped partying away to handle his own breakup.”

“true. we need to find him some better coping mechanisms. though i think he’s back in contact with her on instagram. i swear i saw a notification on his phone the other day with her user and all. that webinar he’s going for next tuesday? think it’s her.”

“oh.” you can hear the wince in jungwon’s voice. “that’s a little…”

riki glares at him. “don't change the subject. shoot.”

he sighs, his lips twisting in concentration. it’s a habit he’s had for a long time, one that you’ve come to notice. “so there’s this girl.”

“uh-huh.”

“i can’t stop thinking about her.”

“uh-huh.”

“but i know she hates me-”

“shit, you like y/n?!” riki yells, slapping jungwon on the back before he can even finish. “of all the billions of people on the planet?”

“how’d you guess?”

“she’s the only one who hates you, buddy. no prizes for guessing who.”

jungwon groans, burying his face in his hands. “i don’t know anymore. she just can’t get out of my head. don’t tell the others, i’m begging you. i’ll never live it down.”

“okay…” riki trails off, and you can imagine how confused he is. “why her though? and why now?”

jungwon’s practically fumbling for an answer, running his hands through his hair (another nervous tic of his). “it’s just…i guess i get her, and she gets me? we understand each other’s problems really well. it’s like looking into a mirror.”

you nearly choke at his words. he gets you, that much is clear. but for him to feel like you know him inside out, that’s a completely different thing altogether. it’s always been a struggle for you to read people. coupled with the fact that jungwon’s the most emotionally intelligent and regulated guy you know, you’ve been worried you’re not giving him enough. 

besides, he’s so much more than you’ll ever be. you, the mentally unstable top student, and jungwon, the other contender for your spot, but with something more: people skills. everyone likes him, everyone wants to be him. the battle’s lost before you can even fight it. he’s a good person, and you’re…nothing like that. people trust him, including you. 

so why would he dare to leave his heart in your hands like that?

it’s not fair. he knows exactly what to do, and you know nothing. he’s dated other girls before, not many but enough to be more experienced than you. how would you know anything, other than to clumsily take his affection with a heap of salt? you’ve failed him. 

oddly enough, riki seems to understand. “i think i catch your wind, but you’ll have to elaborate. what’s the dynamic with her right now?”

“i, uh.” jungwon flounders, his cheeks turning pink, no doubt at the memory of everything you’ve done with him. “th-that’s not…well.” he laughs nervously. “how much can i say before it’s too much info?”

as you watch him with his toothy grin, with those eyes that crinkle in the corners, you know one thing - you absolutely adore him. it’s sudden, but how could you not? he’s everything. much as you hated him, it takes little of your pride to admit he’s been your lifeline for a while now. but you wonder, why would he pick you? for the sole reason that you know him well? that isn’t enough, is it? you may have never understood romance, but you’re guessing this isn’t the usual kind of reason people fall for other people.

besides, there’s nothing special about you.

you end up waiting for the conversation to drift to small talk before joining them back. as always, jungwon’s quick to revert to his usual, teasing self. and despite it all, you find your gaze to be on him the whole time.

it’s dark out when you guys finally make your way back to the dorms. with the others off buying water and snacks for a late-night hangout, you’re left alone with jungwon to head back. he’d conjured up some lie about you leaving some study material in his dorm and needing to grab it before going back to your own, and they seemed to buy it. so here you are, walking along a concrete pavement with the boy you can’t seem to understand, with rain practically beating down your backs. the weather really hates you.

with your path being lit only by the orange glow of the overhead street lamps, and the air filled with nothing but the sound of pouring rain, there’s nothing much you can say. nothing really feels right to say right now, because how do you even begin to address anything in the past month?

jungwon’s grip on the umbrella is tight. you swear it’s leaning slightly towards you. in his other hand is a plastic bag of merch you got from the amusement park, full of junk like headbands and shirts. 

wordlessly, you sneak your pinky into the palm of his hand, hooking your fingers together. there’s an odd sort of intimacy in the little gesture - a silent reassurance that concedes a lot more than you’re usually willing to. to your relief, jungwon doesn’t mention anything about it.

suddenly, his footsteps slow to a halt. he whips out a pair of sparklers from the bag you’d gotten from the amusement park, slipping one into your hands. “quickly, before they come back.” as he fumbles with the lighter, a familiar endearing look of concentration on his face makes you giggle a little. the lighter clicks a few times, and the sparklers come to life.

despite the pouring rain, the sparks of violet flash brightly, illuminating your view of each other. with his face glowing a pretty shade of purple, you can see the ridges in his face, from the dimples in his cheeks to the curve of his mouth. “and why exactly are we lighting fires in a downpour?”

“oh shut up, i’m trying to have a moment with you here.” the retort comes easily, a little too easy, seeing as he slaps his hand over his mouth almost immediately. “you heard nothing.”

“mhm.”

and then he’s wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you walk, the faint crackling filling the silence as you continue on. you can sense jungwon’s gaze on you, so you pinch his arm. “something on your mind?”

he exhales softly, patting your shoulder. “if i say it’s you?”

“then you’re a cheesy bastard. what’s really going on?”

he laughs, but you know there’s something lying under the surface. there always is. (huh, maybe you do know him better.)

“it’s nothing, really. just thinking about…us, i guess.” he pauses. “well, mostly you, if i’m being honest. i don’t really know where to start.”

you shift closer to him under the umbrella, till your cheek is pressed against his arm. “i think i do. your journal?”

“ah.” he grimaces, his laughter a little less nervous. “that much i’m sure you’ve already guessed. i don’t think i ever hated you, y/n. not really. i guess i just got scared that there was someone who saw through me so well.”

“and…are you still scared?”

he shakes head firmly. “no. it’s a good thing, because, well. you feel safe. like a place i can go to and let my guard down. i imagine doing things with you i’d never do with anyone else.”

“not naughty things, i hope,” you joke, but the brilliant red that blooms so bright across his face you can see in the dark is extremely telling. “yang jungwon! get your mind out of the gutter!”

feigning a cough, he looks away, fighting for whatever dignity he’s got left. “my point is, i can’t go on as your rival. i…i need you.” he swallows, and in his eyes there’s a vulnerability you know is saved only for you. “i don’t know why, but knowing you’re the only one who understands me is all i’ll ever need. selfish as it is, i want to keep you here forever, so i don’t have to feel alone again.” he says it all with a conviction that’s so strong it almost scares you. he’s putting all his trust into you. does he not think it’s terrifying, to leave all his sorrows with a person like you?

“are you confessing to me?” you whisper breathlessly. you seriously hope he can hear you over the crashing rainfall. “because i’m not sure if i’m-”

“yes. i’m confessing to you, like right now.”

oh. oh.

but there’s an ache in your chest that swells as you try to meet his glassy eyes. “but if you know me so well, you’ll know that i’m not all that. i’m an emotional wreck who can’t live without her ego, and i’m just…me.” and you’re so much more, more than i’ll ever be.

at this, he stops dead in his tracks, not giving a damn about the fact that the rain’s only getting heavier. “i-okay. what do you think of when you think of me?”

“how is this relevant?”

“just answer the question.”

you lick your dry lips, scouring your brain for a reply that can tell him exactly what you want him to know. “it’s like you can see who i am, like you know exactly what to do to make everything okay again. we’ve been under the same pressure to be good our whole lives, and when you try to make me feel better i can tell you mean it. and it works, and i honestly don’t know how i could possibly live without it, now that i know what it feels like to be loved by you.” if you’d told your younger self that years into the future, you’d get to bare your soul to your greatest rival, she’d probably laugh in your face. but here you are, and it’s comforting to know that he’d never judge you for it.

finally, yang jungwon grins that radiant grin of his, the tip of his sparkler meeting yours. “isn’t that reason enough, then, to keep me here? let’s be selfish for once, you goody-two-shoes.” the soft gaze he has on you has your already-weak resolve crumbling away, and it’s as though a hole’s been filled in your heart. one you didn’t even know existed.

“we’ve been too good our whole lives, haven’t we?”

“all the more a reason to be a little more reckless.”

but you let the sparkler fall to the puddle-strewn pavement as you cup his face in your palms, pressing your forehead to his. “for you? any leap of faith would be worth it.”

and you kiss him, with the force of every unsaid word, every apology and confession of the past eighteen years. as much as you’ve done this before with him, every other time he’s kissed you pales in comparison, because for once you see why you wanted him so badly. why you wanted him to have a piece of your soul. maybe, just maybe, pieces of you are already a part of him, and him of you. fragments of each of your shared pasts had embedded themselves in your hearts long before you’d learnt that the sting was one of longing, and not jealousy alone.

his grip on the umbrella loosens, his palm wraps around your nape, a thumb caressing your jaw in a movement both reverent and yearning. with the umbrella now blown far, far away, you’re completely drenched, but you can’t even bring yourself to care anymore. as his other hand moves to hold your waist, you’re surprised at how naturally it comes. you tug him closer, and it’s both everything you’ve ever wanted, but at the same time never enough. breathing in the lingering scent of his lotion, you decide that this, this is home.

“...what we had was special, you know, and i can’t just let - am i seeing things? oh shit, you guys have to see this, oh my-” sunoo’s voice rings out in the night, and this time you just giggle against jungwon’s lips, not bothering to even look at your rightfully flabbergasted friends. this time, you want them to know.

riki sneers in disgust as he flings your stray umbrella towards you both. “i’d congratulate you, but i’ll be too busy puking in that corner right over there.”

“as if you and your girlfriend aren’t worse,” jungwon teases, catching the umbrella with one hand, the other still on your hip. gosh, that was attractive. 

oh gosh, this guy’s your boyfriend. yang jungwon is your boyfriend.

by now, your friends have caught up with you, and you’ve got a feeling they’re about to circle you like starving vultures for a good story. but you can’t even bring yourself to mind as jungwon takes your hand into his, interlacing your fingers as he reopens the umbrella. “ready to go?”

anytime, if it’s with him. 

a/n ➭ so yall…the promised context. this started off as a secret romance thing where ynwon were more touchy feely (in fact this is the fic that started the whole series lmao). but along the way i decided to use this fic as my projection + built-in jungwon character analysis. tbh the final result of this fic is…very different from what i had in mind at the start, but i’m okay with how it turned out in the end! as always, thanks for reading till the end! if u have the time do reblog/comment so ik what i can improve on haha have a good week! ALSO DID YALL SPOT THE SUNOO X YN CRUMBS

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