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paimonial-rage · 7 months

Text

obvious - neuvillette

ship: neuvillette x reader synopsis: he can't understand how you always see through him. is he that easy to read? notes: 3k words

Neuvillette didn’t know when he realized it. You must’ve been visiting him for at least a year at that point. Perhaps it was because it was such a small thing, something that most people wouldn’t even raise a brow at. Or maybe it was because he wasn’t in tune with it like most humans were that it took something rather large for it to stand out. Whatever it was, the moment he noticed it, he couldn’t stop noticing every single time after.

He still remembered the day like it was yesterday. Though he often enjoyed the rain, the weather that time around had more of a somber note. It was the day after he apologized to Miss Navia, genuinely apologized to her. All evening it felt as if his stomach was thrown about like the waves of the sea, and when daybreak finally came, he wasn’t much better. He wanted nothing more than to sit out on his balcony in the rain, but duty called and it was to Palais Mermonia he went.

Despite the storm raging outside, work went as normal. New cases were placed on his desk and visits from the Melusines were received. You arrived on time just as you regularly did in the late morning on the third day of the work week. You greeted him before entering and in your hands was a package marked with that familiar Komaniya Express logo. He remembered finding it impressive how there seemed to be no proof of the storm from the dryness of your skin.

He greeted you as he normally did, to which you returned according to custom. But even he could see the nearly imperceptible confusion within your eyes when you took the sight of him in. It made him self-conscious, as if perhaps his clothing were askew. Surely someone would’ve pointed it out before if it were that noticeable. But when concern was reflected in your eyes after, he wasn’t sure what to think.

“Here you go, Monsieur Neuvillette. This particular batch of bottled water is from Mondstadt’s Springvale. It’s from, well, a spring where it’s rumored that a fairy lives. Included is the first volume of the book series, Heart of Clear Springs, which recounts the tale of the fairy and the promise she made with a young boy. Now I don’t know too much about Fontanian opera, but I think this one makes for an interesting story!”

“Is that so?” He asked. “Then I will have to read it for myself.”

You nodded as you first handed him the package, then a clipboard for signature.

“Yes, and tell me what you think. If you’d like me to procure the rest of the series for you, please put an order in with the Komaniya Express.”

“I will be sure to do that,” he agreed as he handed back the clipboard back to you. “Do you perhaps have some time today?”

It became a normal question of his after you curiously asked one time if he could tell the difference between the water you brought him. After that, it became a custom to sample different bottles with him whenever you had the time. It was enjoyable for him to share his hobby with someone else, even if your taste wasn’t as discerning as his.

But when you turned him down with an apologetic smile, he couldn’t help but notice the slight twinge in his chest. Apparently, it was a busy time for the company, so you had a heavy load that day. But even though you were in a hurry, you paused at the door to his office before leaving, that look he noticed earlier back in your eyes.

“I don’t know what happened, but try not to be too hard on yourself, Monsieur Neuvillette. It’s foolish to expect perfection, even from long-lived species like us. So cheer up, okay?”

And with a kind smile, you then bid him adieu.

After you left, confusion sat within him. He had been told more than once that he was a difficult person to read, but you picked up on his mood the moment you entered his office. At first, he thought it could have been because of the Steambird. The case of the previous day stole its front page. But that couldn’t have been it. You told him once you only read the paper in the evening due to starting the work day so early. So what cued you in?

But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that you had always been like that, pointing out his moods. How quick you were to take one look at him and deem the day as a “good one.” Or those times after difficult conversations with Furina you’d kindly reassured him that a relaxing rainy day would come soon. A few times you even brought water from rarer places as a “pick-me-up” from the week before.

Was he that obvious?

It made him wonder how long you had been picking up on his moods. He assumed you were only attempting to make conversation, but remembering back, you were right all those times. The days that you mentioned were good, he found himself able to sleep easily. And on the days you’d try to reassure him, there the rain would come early, but not the enjoyable kind.

You didn’t change following that key visit. In fact, he noticed even more things about you. The days you were able to stay for a while, you did not treat him as if he were a celebrity. You could talk about recent events with ease. You’d ask him questions about recent cases and shows at the Opera Epiclese. You’d even tease him about his interest in the waters of Teyvat. With you, he felt normal, like he was any other person.

Perhaps you stood out the most to him that day a few days after Lady Furina renounced her deityhood and left the Palais Mermonia. She left so quietly it was as if it was never her home for the past 500 years. Words could not describe the emptiness her void left him. All the thoughts of that day swirled within his mind like an unending vortex. Guilt, confusion, pain, regret—nothing could free him from the storm that was his mind.

The day you arrived wasn’t one of your normal. It was the weekend nearing the time he ended for the day. And you had nothing in your hands, not a box nor glass bottle. One look of your face told him you already knew what happened. It didn’t surprise him. It was the headlines of the Steambird for the past few days, after all. You also weren’t a stranger to the more stressful times of the previous few weeks, doing your best to distract him with lighthearted chatter whenever you came by for delivery.

This time, you didn’t smile, nor did you point out his mood. You didn’t distract him with strange happenings on your journeys, nor bring up the news. Instead, with solemn eyes, you apologized for surprising him with such a sudden visit. You said you heard about everything that happened and you… were worried about him. Then you asked something no one else had since, well, everything.

“How are you?”

There were many ways he could’ve answered that question. He could mention the emptiness he felt when passing that vacant apartment at the top of Palais Mermonia every evening. He could chat about how it bothered him how the Melusines seemed to move on too quickly from Lady Furina’s absence. He could even talk about the guilt he still felt regarding that no doubt traumatizing trial he forcibly put her through. But he said none of those things. Instead, he answered truthfully.

“I don’t know.”

And that was the truth, wasn’t it? By all means, he should have been feeling relief. The people of Fontaine were not dissolved in water, nor was Lady Furina left weeping upon her throne alone. He received the power that was rightfully his and became a true dragon once more. It was the perfect outcome, was it not? But that was anything but he felt.

“If you want, you can tell me about it,” you said. At his hesitation, you continued, “Sometimes talking about things with someone else can help you untangle everything you’re feeling inside.”

Were you right? He wasn’t sure. There weren’t many people he found himself opening up to. Such was rather hard as the Iudex. His words were as solid as law. It didn’t help either that he was put on a pedestal by Melusines and humans alike. They could never imagine someone like him could be privy to human emotions like themselves. But you weren’t a Fontanian, were you? And never did you treat him like a god. You saw him as he was, a person. But…

“You don’t need to if you don’t want to,” you followed up. “I do understand that not everything can be said.”

But he shook his head.

“There are so many things to be said that words are failing me.” He let out a shuddering sigh. “I’m afraid nothing can rightfully describe what I feel about the events that have occurred.”

You nodded.

“I can see that,” you replied, seeing truth within his eyes.

And with that, silence unfolded between you both. Though Neuvillette couldn’t quite pin it as uncomfortable, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of guilt because of it. Here you were on possibly your day off and he couldn’t bring it within himself to be a good host. But lost in thoughts as he was, it caught him off guard when you continued.

“I may be sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I can see in your eyes that horrible wrongs have occurred. And you feel guilty over it.”

He looked away as you managed to hit a bit too on the nose. But your words weren’t sympathetic nor accusatory, simply pointing out the truth.

“If I may, Monsieur Neuvillette, I’m sure you know this, but justice is not meant to be a preventative measure. Justice can only exist when a wrong has occurred because it is the job of justice to make things right.”

You then put your hand upon his.

“You may not be able to change the past, but you are the Iudex, the representation of justice in Fontaine. If anyone can make things right, wouldn’t that be you?”

The part that blamed himself wished to argue with you. That it wasn’t as simple as you made it out to be. That try as he may, there was still a chance he might—

“You won’t fail. Everyone knows the kind of person you are. Even if you may make a mistake or say the wrong thing, they will see the truth and intent behind your words and actions. Believe in yourself more, Monsieur Neuvillette. You are a good person. If you just try, they will understand you.”

Was that the truth? He didn’t quite know himself. There were so many things he wished to say to Lady Furina, but how could he after hurting her like that? Wouldn’t his presence only make her trauma worse? But he couldn’t argue with your words. Your eyes conveyed everything you said to be truth. You whole-heartedly believed it to be.

“I have never understood human emotion. Knowing what to do or say has always troubled me, and I know I have hurt people before,” he began with a troubled expression before smiling at you, “But your words give me a bit of confidence.”

You laughed.

“If I accomplished anything today, I am glad it is at least that. You are a wonderful person, Monsieur Neuvillette, and everyone seems to know that but you. Sometimes I find it sad to see.”

He coughed.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

That evening, you were not bound by the restraints your job put upon you, so you accepted his invitation to dinner. You asked him about the future plans of Fontaine and the rebuilding efforts. He inquired about the missing package you discovered a few weeks back. And when he finally returned back to his home, for the first time in weeks, he was able to sleep with ease.

It was ever since then that something began to change in him. Though he always enjoyed your company, he found himself inviting you to stay longer during your weekly deliveries. He’d even ask if you’d like to accompany him to showings at the Opera Epliclese. Seeing you once a week simply was not enough any longer. When you’d inevitably leave after each visit, he’d be left with a strange empty feeling in his chest.

It most certainly didn’t help that you’d always laugh when he’d ask you to stay as if you seen through him from the very start. Your beautiful eyes would sparkle and a hint of pink would tint your cheeks. You always seemed to know when his eyes were on you, to which you’d always look away in a terrible attempt to hide the small smile upon your lips. You enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed yours. But it still wasn’t enough.

He decided to tell Furina about it on a day she invited him to tea. The time they spent together was always a delight, much thanks to your words of encouragement. But this time around, his admittance toward wanting you near threw his companion into a state of confusion. Pressed back against her chair with her cup of freshly spilled tea upon the floor and an incredulous flustered expression upon her face, she looked at him in horror.

“Do… Do you really not know?” She asked, doing her best to keep her voice gentle.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand what you mean. Is it… supposed to mean something?” He asked.

Furina abruptly stood with a start and began to pace within her small living room, cheeks flushed and face in hands. After a few moments, she then stopped and turned to him.

“You’ve spent hours with this person, even inviting them to spend time with you outside of work, because you feel lonely when they’re gone and still you don’t know what it means!?” She groaned.

Ignoring the way she seamlessly transitioned back into her hydro archon persona, he couldn’t help but feel a bit sheepish at her exasperation. She knew very well he did not understand emotions, but was this as big of a deal as she was making it out to be? He really didn’t think this was that important of a matter. Was there anything wrong with wishing to spend more time with you?

“I suppose it can be said that I view them as a good friend,” he began so as to fish for the right answer.

But apparently, it was the wrong one, for she went right back to burying her face in her hands, this time while twisting around as if trying to shake off a bug.

“Just how many operas have you watched? Were you not paying attention to any of them?” She accused pointedly.

She finally stabbed a finger into his chest with frustration blazing in her eyes.

“You are in love, Neuvillette. In. Love.”

Needless to say, he left her home that day with much to think about. If she was right—he didn’t doubt her words—what was he to do next? He enjoyed spending time with you, that was true. He always felt a pang of sadness whenever you left. And if he had to think about it more, he found you, well, stunning. The softness of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes—his heart soared when he was the cause of it.

But he couldn’t exactly say if his feelings for you meant he should act on it. There were many things to consider. You weren’t from Fontaine, and your job had you on the move most of the time. As Iudex, he didn’t have much free time either. But those problems paled in comparison to the main problem at hand.

What were your feelings for him?

Such were the state of his thoughts the next time you arrived and accepted his invitation to stay for a bit. So nervous he was with his newfound feelings that he truly didn’t know much of what he was speaking about. His heart was nearly beating out of his chest, and deep down, he was near positive you were looking right through him. You always could.

But if that were the case, why didn’t you seem surprised? Why did you always accept his invitations? Why did your lips curl into that beautiful smile when your eyes fell upon him? Why did a flush color your cheeks whenever he asked you to stay? Why did you look at him like that, like–

“You’re in love.”

His words spoken aloud only registered in his mind when your eyes blown wide and posture froze tense. He didn’t mean to say it, he didn’t mean to speak, but the damage was already dealt. By the way your mouth hung open, it seemed you were trying to find what to say, but no words came. Eventually, you could do nothing more than to hide your face in what he could only assume to be embarrassment and outrage.

As much guilt as he felt for throwing you into such a state, he also could not deny the sorrow that rose up within his heart. He thought you could possibly… But that was foolish, wasn’t it? He didn’t understand human emotions. He knew that. But when you looked at him like that, how could he not let his hubris rise? In the end, he was mistaken. And that mistake would cost him you. He looked away.

“I apologize–”

“Monsieur Neuvillette…”

And just like that, his attention was brought back to you once more. How could he ignore the sound of his name upon your tongue, especially when you called it so softly? And though your hands still covered your face and your eyes seen between spread fingers still avoided his, he could see that you were not upset, nor were you ashamed. Rather, you were completely and utterly flustered as if all along, he had been–

“Am I that obvious?”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #my writing

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hayleythesugarbowl · 10 months

Note

Hiiii could you write a Remus Lupin (as an adult) with x reader who is a student at Hogwarts? Like a teacher x student one maybe? Like Remus knows that that is wrong but he can’t resist her even if he really tries to. Write smut or fluff both is good :)

Thanks in advance 💐

Stolen Glances || Remus Lupin x student!reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • my other remus x reader oneshot ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: oneshot where remus finds himself drawn to you against his better judgement even though you are one of his students

word count: 3.1k

warnings: age gap but it’s legal

a/n: tysm for this request lovely!! i hope this is what you wanted! also, for legal purposes the reader is in year seven and eighteen years old but you can imagine it however you want. also i made the reader a ravenclaw. enjoy!! 🎀🍓💌

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You walked down the spiraling staircase that lead from your dorm to the Ravenclaw common room, a series of hallways, and eventually the majestic great hall at Hogwarts.

You wrapped your cloak around yourself tighter in the chilly September temperatures. Even though you were within the walls of the castle, you still felt the cold in the air and rubbed your arms to stay warm.

You finally came to the great hall, stopping for a second to look around. Even though you’d been going to school here for six years you still found it a breathtaking sight. You kept walking and found a spot at the Ravenclaw table next to Penelope Clearwater, your best friend of four years. You sat down, piling food onto your plate quickly and shoving it into your mouth even quicker.

“Woah, slow down (Y/n)!” Penelope said.

“Good morning to you too,” you teased, “I’m in a hurry. I’ve got Defense Against the Dark Arts in ten minutes.”

You had probably taken too many classes for your own good this year. But you wanted to take as many subjects as you possibly could in your last year at Hogwarts. And you wanted to start this year off by not being late to your first class.

“So do I,” Penelope took a bite of a biscuit, “Third floor right? I’ll walk with you.”

You finished your breakfasts and gathered your books, heading towards the staircase that would take you to the third floor.

“So who do you think we’re gonna have this year?” you asked your friend. Every year since your 5th year when Professor Quirrell had been killed in a fight with Harry Potter after he began aiding He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, you’d had had a different Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. You shuddered, thinking of the dark wizard.

“I don’t know, but I hope whoever it is actually teaches us something instead of the other way around,” she said. You laughed, knowing she was referring to Professor Lockhart, your last DADA teacher.

You turned a corner, passing a few other students with early classes making their way down the hallway.

You walked into the classroom and found a man with his back to you, his head bent over a book on his desk. His robes looked well worn, and his brown hair looked as if he’d been running his fingers through it. Upon hearing you and your friend walk into the classroom, he turned around noticing you and Penelope and giving you a warm smile.

“Good morning…,” he paused waiting for you to tell him your names.

“I’m (Y/n) (Y/l/n) and this is Penelope Clearwater,” you answered.

“Well Miss (Y/l/n) and Miss Clearwater, I’m Professor Lupin. I’m afraid you’re a bit early, but please take a seat anywhere you like.”

You smiled back at him as you went to sit in one of the chairs closest to you. Penelope sat down next to you and began flipping through one of the textbooks she held. You watched Professor Lupin as he went about what you assumed was finishing preparing his classroom. He looked tired, as if he hadn’t had a good nights rest in some time but there was something about the way he carried himself that seemed to hint at a subtle energy. Intrigued, you continued to watch him. He mumbled a few spells, rearranging what you hoped weren’t crates holding some sort of magical creatures.

“(Y/n)? Did you hear me,” Penelope broke you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, sorry, got distracted. What did you say?”

She rolled her eyes, smiling, “I just asked what you thought of the Professor but I think I have my answer.”

You blushed despite yourself, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” she said cryptically.

You wanted to press her further but plenty of other students had started to filter in and take their seats and Professor Lupin now stood in front of the class, waiting.

“Good morning everyone,” he said, “as most of you know, I am going to be your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year.”

He started pacing and continued. “I hope all of you will take this class as an opportunity to not only learn how to defend yourselves but to grow as witches and wizards. I want you to look inside yourselves. Most of all, I hope you come out of this class today with more questions than answers. I can see the potential in all of you as I look around this class and ask that you always apply yourselves to your full potential so you can become the best versions of yourselves.” He looked at the class with a smile and a twinkle in his eye.

You listened aptly and could have almost sworn he was looking right at you as he finished his speech, his eyes burning holes into your forehead. You looked down quickly, smiling to yourself.

“Now if there are no questions, I invite all of you to turn your books to page 10 and let us begin.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

“I’m telling you, you like him,” Penelope said as she fought to walk faster to keep up with your pace as you tried to get to your next class and away from this conversation.

“Penny, he’s a professor and you’re delusional.”

She pulled at the strap of her bag as you guys walked. “I see the way you look at him.”

You stopped abruptly, “Since when did focusing in class because I want to get good marks become fancying the teacher?” Besides, there was something about Professor Lupin that you just liked, even though you were only a few months or so into the school year. And not only because he was, you thought, attractive with his bright smile and kind eyes. He was intelligent and wise but also patient and you could tell he really cared for his students. Not that those students necessarily included you…

“I see the way he looks at you too,” your friend wiggled her eyebrows.

“Ok, that’s it! No more romance novels for you,” you began walking again. You quickly added, “And besides he doesn’t really like me, remember?.”

“I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Penelope matched your pace, “Why wouldn’t he? You make perfect marks and answer all his questions in class.”

It was true. You had kind of become known for being a teachers pet in most of your classes—much to the amusement and teasing of your best friend and the appreciation of your professors. Especially Lupin. Until recently, he had beamed every time you answered one of his questions or volunteered to demonstrate a spell. However, lately you got the feeling he didn’t like you all that much. Or at least was indifferent to you. You weren’t sure why, and couldn’t be certain, but you thought you didn’t imagine that he avoided looking in your direction. You tried to tell yourself it didn’t bother you, but it did. You cared about his approval, wether you wanted to admit it or not.

“Drop it, Penny, ok?” She didn’t look like she would drop it anytime soon.

“‘Oh, Professor Lupin, what spell would you recommend using here? What is the counter-curse to this charm? Why don’t you love me? Why haven’t you asked me to marry you yet?” She mocked, giggling.

“I heard that,” you snapped, not looking back.

You walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts together and found all of the desks pushed to the side and a group of students crowded in the center of the room with Professor Lupin standing next to a large wardrobe at the front. Turns out your pause in the hallway has made you a bit late, so you and Penelope snuck in right as class was starting.

“Alright students: Boggarts,” Professor Lupin said, not noticing as you two entered the classroom late, “who can tell me what they are?”

“They’re shapeshifting creatures, known for turning into the worst fear of whoever comes upon them,” you answered instinctually.

“Show off,” Penelope mumbled, teasing you. You elbowed her in the rib.

“Very good, excellent!” Lupin beamed, looking around the grouping of students trying to find where the voice came from. Upon seeing who had answered him, he looked down and cleared his throat, continuing. You bit your cheek and looked at Penelope, as if to say: See? She furrowed her brow.

“Boggarts can only take the shape of a fear. They have no form of their own and therefore cannot hurt you. Now, I’m going to open this cabinet and I want a volunteer to step forward—don’t worry, you’ll all get a chance to participate—and at my command use the spell ‘Riddikulus’. Are you ready?”

The first student, a nervous-looking boy with red hair, stepped forward.

Lupin took a few steps backwards, hand ready to open the cabinet. “Now, relax, hold your wand like so…and remember, the only thing you have to fear is fear itself.”

He pulled it open with a flourish and within seconds a large scorpion took form. The boy let out a yell and jumped backwards but Lupin stayed calm, telling him what to do. Eventually, he was able to gain control of himself and the scorpion briefly donned a cowboy-hat before it was gone. The class applauded and the boy held his chin a little higher than he had before.

In turn, all of your classmates had a go with the Boggart, which turned into a variety of fears from snakes to clowns to a stalk of celery, and when it finally came time for you to step forwards you weren’t feeling particularly terrified.

“Ready?” Lupin asked. When you nodded, he let the cabinet open and you almost stopped breathing entirely.

There, in front of you, was who could only have been He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself, grinning wickedly. You felt your legs turn to lead and watched as he reached out a bony finger towards you. You, of course, had never actually seen him, but you had no doubt that’s who stood in front of you. Rooted in place you felt like the world was spinning. You heard the other students’ distorted screams, as if they were coming from very far way and the last thing you remembered was Professor Lupin’s concerned face as he rushed towards you before everything went dark…

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Light. The first thing you saw was a bright light as you squinted your eyes and tried to make sense of what was happening. You shut your eyes again. The last thing you remembered was being in class, the screaming of your classmates, and Vol—

You shot up, your memory returning. You looked around you. You were sitting on a couch and appeared to be in a small sitting area decorated in browns and greens. Your head pounded but you felt wide awake. Suddenly, a voice startled you from behind.

“Miss (Y/l/n), good you’re awake.” You looked around you and saw Professor Lupin standing in the doorway behind you holding a steaming cup of tea.

Embarrassment flooded through you. You attempted a smile. Lupin walked over to you, handing you the cup of tea and offering you a piece of chocolate.

“Take this,” he said gently, “It’ll help.”

You took them gratefully. Lupin sat down next to you.

“How are you feeling?” He asked, “Does anything hurt?”

“Just my pride,” you smiled ruefully. Professor Lupin smiled back at you, the first time he’d really smiled at you in months. You wondered what had brought on the change but figured it was probably just because you’d passed out in his class and he felt bad for you.

“There’s no shame in being afraid, (Y/n),” he assured you. “If I’d known your Boggart would take the form of Vol—You-Know-Who, I promise I wouldn’t have made you face it.”

You appreciated his attempts to make you feel better, but you doubted anyone had ever fainted in his class before. You didn’t even know why, really. You-Know-Who was gone, or at least that’s what everyone was saying. There were…rumors though. But still.

“How long was I…out for?” You asked.

“Not long,” he answered, “I know your friends will be glad to see you awake, though.” He made to get up.

“Wait,” you stopped him, “where am I exactly?”

He sat back down. “Oh, right, I—I brought you to my chambers. It was the first place I could think for you to lie down.”

“Well, you have lovely taste,” you gestured around the apartment, admiring the decor. Professor Lupin laughed. “I’d say it’s nice in here if I wasn’t here on the grounds that I fainted in front of the whole class like a total loser.”

Lupin smiled, “Like I said, there is no shame in fear. And you’re not a loser. You’re one of the brightest students of your year and any Professor would be lucky to have the honor to teach you.”

You were touched. You weren’t sure that Lupin had uttered this many words to you in a month, much less so complimentary.

“Thank you,” you told him.

He looked at you warmly, and then as if suddenly catching himself, he looked at the clock on the far wall and said curtly, “Well, I really should be getting back to class and you need rest, stay as long as you like.”

You didn’t know what had brought on this sudden change in the professor’s mood but it frustrated you. You were grateful to him for helping you but suddenly just as you felt like he saw you as a person again, he dismissed you. Maybe on any other day you would have just let him leave, but now, lying on Remus Lupin’s couch and having already made a fool of yourself, you surprised yourself by saying, “Why do you hate me?”

Lupin stopped in his tracks, turning around, “(Y/n), what?”

Now that you had said it, you couldn’t stop saying things. “It’s just, I’m a good student. And I always participate in class and you can’t even look at me! And then you’re kind to me one second and the next you just act like I don’t exist. I just—what did I do to you?” You realized your head was hurting again and you leaned back on the couch cousin.

Lupin looked like he was fighting with himself and then he ran a hand through his hair and sat down beside you. “Miss (Y/l/n), i don’t hate you I can promise you that.”

When you didn’t say anything, he continued, “I think your a phenomenal student—person. Your bright and kind and wise beyond your years—” he breaks off, “and it isn’t that I don’t like you. I—the problem is, I like you too much.”

What? You didn’t understand him. He sensed your confusion and tried again.

“I never in my wildest dreams imagined saying this to you,” he looks down, “but here we are. You deserve the truth. I like you, Miss (Y/l/n). A lot. And the reason I find it hard to look at you is because I cannot deny my attraction to you and I know how wrong it is but I can’t—gosh I can’t believe I’m telling you this. I can’t resist you and it’s painful to look at you when I know I can never do anything about it.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Of all the things you’d expected him to say…. You found yourself blushing. You tried to form words but couldn’t, your head still spinning. Lupin stood up.

“Now I think it’s best if I leave,” he moved towards the door.

“Wait,” you found yourself saying. You walked closer to him, close enough so you could see the faint scars on his face and smell his scent of vanilla and cinnamon. You looked into his eyes and saw the struggle there. You didn’t know if it was the lighting or adrenaline or maybe it was still the effects of what had happened this afternoon but you leaned in and suddenly you were kissing him.

He pulled away, “(Y/n), we can’t—” but you pulled him in again. This time he didn’t fight it, kissing you back softly at first, hesitant, but then more passionately and you could feel the months he’d spent waiting to do this but telling himself it would never happen. He moved a hand to your hair, the other on the small of your back.

He pulled away again. “(Y/n), we don’t have to do this. There are plenty of guys your age who’d be lucky to have you and I don’t want to tie you down with a—”

“I want you,” you interrupted, kissing him again.

Neither of you heard as the door opened and—

“(Y/n),” a voice said, “someone said you were in here and—” the voice stopped abruptly.

You and Lupin pulled apart, gasping as you turned around and stared at Penelope. Her mouth was open and she was looking between the two of you in utter disbelief.

“Well, I just wanted to make sure you were ok but it seems you are,” she mumbled, a small smile forming on her lips.

“Miss Clearwater,” Professor Lupin started but you interrupted him.

“It was my fault Penny, I kissed him.”

“Now, Miss (Y/l/n),” Lupin began but this time

Penelope interrupted both of you, now smiling big, “I don’t care who’s fault it is, I’m just glad it finally happened.” You stared at her, amused.

“Hey, I’m the one who said you were in love with him after months of you obsessing over him and—”

“That’s a gross exaggeration.” Your cheeks flamed and Lupin smiled down at you. “And Penny—”

“Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me!” She beamed, putting a finger to her lips. “I’ll be outside.” She walked towards the door, looking at you wickedly.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” you called to her. And then you and Professor Lupin were alone again.

“Sorry about…that,” you said.

“Don’t be,” he put his hands in his cloak pockets, “I didn’t know you were obsessed with me.”

“Ok, I’m going to kill her!” You stomped your foot but you were smiling.

Lupin looked at you seriously now, and lifted a hand to brush your hair out of your face, “Still think I hate you?”

“Maybe a little less,” you teased. You clasped his hand and he interlocked his fingers with yours.

“You’re beautiful, (Y/n). You know that? You’re one of the most special people I know.”

You leaned up and kissed him gently. “I’m so glad this happened,” you whispered.

“Me too,” he said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ thank you @merthosus for the request, i hope this is what you wanted and that you enjoyed this!! i love writing for lupin so much also this whole thing was written while listening to taylor swift so do with that what you will 🎀have a lovely day/night <3

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x student!reader #remus lupin #harry potter #student x professor #teacher x student #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #x reader

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gogandmagog · 2 months

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✨Anne Blythe’s (Anne Shirley-Blythe’s namesake granddaughter) father is not Jem. It’s Shirley. It’s totally Shirley, you guys. It’s gotta be.✨

And like, Ieading right off by saying of course there’s no definitive answer to be had here, since Maud obviously isn’t available to confirm or refute any hypothesises, but I do big persist in suggesting that a very rational case can be presented for Shirley... one that at least outweighs what I now see as the generally baseless widely accepted assumption that Anne is Jem’s daughter. Keep in mind, I’m in no way trying to dog on this. The assumption is ready and easy to make, and I’d accepted fully this theory too, until about a week agooo.

ABOUT A WEEK AGO, I was poring over various Wikipedia entries for the Anne book series, and inevitably also ended up looking through the edit history of those pages. While sorting through the edit history (super extensive and interesting, by the way), the username ‘blefebvre’ popped into the archive, contributing a ton of information to the Anne pages overall, around 2008 and 2009 particularly. And literally, who else could this user be besides THE Benjamin Lefebvre? Brilliant Maud scholar and essayist, inexhaustible editor and publisher of ‘the Blythes are Quoted’? Welllll, one of these edits, a written family tree of Anne and Gilbert’s grandchildren, mentioned Anne Blythe... and pointedly noted that she was either the daughter of Jem or Shirley.

Reading that? Already a huge jump-scare surprise to me. This immediately challenged what I thought I knew about the third generation of Blythes. I sat straight up in bed, brain doing a nosedive, like wait wait wait wait wait… hold on, what? We don’t know for sure? We don’t know for sure?

Guys. We don’t know for sure.

Whichhhhh sent me on an immediate hunt to gather up what we do know for sure. The facts we do have. And it wasn’t a huge task, either… there’s really not a lot to collect.

But here it is:

In ‘the Blythes are Quoted’, Anne Blythe is mentioned in only one story, titled “The Road to Yesterday” (not to be confused with the TBAQ abridged predecessor book of the same title 😅).

All we really have of her is her name, and a couple of superficial second-hand anecdotes from a guy named Jerry (who is impersonating a fellow named Dick, but more on this a little later).

Her paternity is unconfirmed, but because her surname is Blythe (not Ford or Meredith), we can logically eliminate the possibility of her belonging to Nan, Di, or Rilla. Walter was, of course, lost in France. This leaves Jem and Shirley.

Tiny details about Anne.

As a matter of housekeeping, let me try to get the jump on any potential counter-arguments, and clear the air.

The only reason I’ve seen Jem credited with Anne is because…

1. Jem was married.

That’s the entire basis.

And I’ll grant you that. This is more than we got for Shirley. But let’s remember that at the end of ‘Rilla of Ingleside’, we only had a canon engagement between Jem and Faith... it takes getting around to ‘the Blythes are Quoted’ to absolutely conclude that their marriage went through. With the added extra bonus of finding out that they have children.

But even allowing that, ‘the Blythes are Quoted’ as an epilogue isn’t all inclusive. It isn’t a complete picture. It’s half a picture at the very best. Maud, pressured greatly, basically dumped all her disorganised, non-chronological and unedited Anne relevant WIPS + short stories + poems on her publisher's desk two days before she died. This is not a book that Maud put together, as a tailpiece collection. It was an assortment of partial works and in-character conversations that she’d tinkered with over decades. Works she never intended to see being published. They were vague ideas she was forming, little seeds. (It took a lot of effort from Benjamin Lefebvre to put TBAQ together in a readable way that made sense.)

Maud was over Anne. Over Anne by twenty years, at this point. So much so that noticeable character details and world building started slipping in Ingleside and Rilla… for obvious instance, in the lack of continuity around Shirley’s birth year, and the way readers saw almost no closure/representation for Shirley and Di, with varying degrees of near erasure in the original books.

But this doesn’t mean that Maud didn’t have plans for these two characters... their incomplete or unsatisfying stories certainly weren’t nefariously intended to be that way (there’s no secret meaning to the exclusion); Montgomery was just depleted and had been feeling ruinously dispassionate about the Blythes stories since ‘Anne of the Island’.

In ‘Reading Rilla’ we see in Maud’s many pages of left-out notes, that an ultimately scrapped journal entry from Rilla indicates that Diana Blythe wrote to their mother of her engagement to a foreign overseas officer. It’s unclear if this officer is the same ‘Austin boy’ that an older Glen woman in ‘the Blythes are Quoted’ privately wonders about (if Di 'really is engaged to him or not'), but this contradictory bit is probably just erroneous gossip from an unreliable narrator.

Anyway. All of this to say... that just because we don’t have a canon marriage for Shirley, it doesn’t disqualify him from having had a wife and kids in Maud’s post-war Four Winds. TBAQ stories were, to reiterate, half-pictures. Pictures that did/could drop a plot bomb in a single sentence. Looping back to Di, canonly we don’t have a marriage for her either... and yet, we do have two engagements that half-register. One engagement was definitive, reported by Di herself. The other a passing curiosity from someone not close enough to the Blythe family to know.

So... clearly, Maud had active intention, a plan, for Di and her own little happy epilogue. The same can be believed for Shirley. (I’m dying for the day the ‘Rainbow Valley’ and ‘Ingleside’ manuscripts get published, I’m convinced there’s more Shirley be found in the notes.) Now, let’s dig in to Anne Blythe herself.

‘The Road to Yesterday’ is a short story about a woman named Susette (a spinster at 28), who is on the brink of an engagement to a wealthy man named Harvey Brooks. She expects the next day to be proposed to. On a whim and feeling nostalgic, she drives to Glen St. Mary, where she lived in her girlhood, for the evening. While there, she runs into a fellow, whom she believes to be Dick, her childhood bully who she hated profoundly. Except now, they’re grown and capable acting chummy over their shared memories. The weather takes a bad turn, and they take shelter and a meal together. Susette spends most of the time, all their ‘do you remembers’, being irritated by Dick’s constant name-dropping of the Blythes. He claims to have been kind of secret friends with Anne Blythe, which is contrary to Susette’s memory that Anne hated Dick. (In the end, it turns out that Susette was right… this isn’t Dick she’s talking to. It’s Jerry Thornton, Dick’s cousin.)

For the official record every Blythe mentioned in ‘the Road to Yesterday’ is as follows: Doctor Blythe, Mrs. Doctor Blythe, Rilla Ford, Jem Blythe [Jr.], Di Meredith [Jerry and Nan’s], and Anne Blythe.

It’s mostly a bunch of school yard talk, but the big takeaway for this purpose is that the Blythe/Meredith cousins all hung out together as school children.

Here’s some direct examples:

*****

The cheap boiled-down version of this exchange, for those who haven’t ‘the Road to Yesterday’ is basically: Susette is having strange feelings during this interaction with ‘Dick’, she’s attracted to him, declaring to herself that she won’t fall in love with him, and is clearly irritated with the near constant Anne Blythe (especially)/Blythe references. Though she herself was very fond of Jem Blythe Jr. herself, during their childhood, ‘Dick’ mentioning Anne Blythe so fondly is increasingly Not Cute to Susette. Meanwhile, ‘Dick’ is enjoying this kind of teasing, and is lowkey successful at getting a rise out of Susette, not matter how determined she is to look unaffected.

But here’s the kicker... when ‘Dick’ finally leaves off mentioning Anne Blythe, guess what topic he moves on to? 🥁

The Royal Canadian Air Force.

And just who do we all know that was in the Royal Canadian Air Force?

Shirley.

Only Shirley.

First, it tracks that ‘Dick,’ soon enlisting (we’re on the brink of WWII timeline-wise), and thinking himself funny, would choose to move on from Anne Blythe to instead a subtler rib… what he, as a once good pal of Anne’s, would know was Anne’s dad’s war faction. It’s also in the realm of possibilities that thinking on Anne so much drew up this correlation. I also ALSO think it’s worth mentioning that the only other time that the Canadian Air Force is mentioned in TBAQ is a very passing drop for Rilla, thinking of her son Gilbert Ford enlisting with the CAF. That’s it. Just those two times.

Additionally important to note is the overall subtext tone in TBAQ, which is Maud’s very greatest collection of double-vision, double-speak and intertextual reference works. There’s a beautiful scholarly essay on this, in relation to TBAQ particularly HERE.

This doesn’t only apply to cultural references in TBAQ. It also adds layers to Maud’s own existing Anne series. It really could be considered a companion piece, with X-Ray vision, e.g. how we got a ton of ‘missing’ insight into Anne and her children’s lives and minds, during the Rainbow Valley era, in Part 1 of TBAQ.

Part 2 of TBAQ (where we find ‘the Road to Yesterday’) asks us to apply what we already know to the new text we’re given.

So, understanding this … if we’re going off what we already know from ‘Rilla of Ingleside’…

What’s the reason we have the Canadian Air Force mentioned in the same story that we learn of the existence of Anne Blythe? The connection?

It’s Shirley. 🥹

A weaker argument that I’ll only mention in mild passing, because it is very weak in terms of convincing evidence, is that the text unambiguously tells is that Anne Blythe has taught ‘Dick’ from Susan’s famous recipes. Susan is another Shirley tie. It’s there to be stated. BUT. I do admit that I think Susan would’ve taught every willing Blythe grandchild with the same zeal, maybe some partiality given to the Little Brown Boy’s kid(s).

BUT, for me?

I’m properly convinced here.

Shirley was a dad, ya’ll.

#long and messy post #wrote this out in twenty minutes and i’m certain it’s utterly infested with grammatical errors and typos so i already beg your forgiveness #IF ANYONE would like to take up a counter-argument i am fully sat #shirley blythe #meta #lucy maud montgomery #the blythes are quoted

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maximotts · 2 years

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𝙻𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝙾𝚗𝚎; 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 :: 𝙲.𝚘.𝚆.𝙼.

a/n: alright, here we go! I think I've mentioned it already, but most of these chapters are written and in my drafts so knocks on wood the schedule should stay as planned. I hope you all enjoy this series as much as I do and big special thanks to @furys-eyepatch for sending me the idea for Kinktober uh... obviously it got Quite Long

✎— priest's daughter!Wanda x college student!reader

✎— confessions AU; it's only been a few weeks, but Wanda won't get out of your head. With how small your campus was, you thought sure you were bound to run into her; until you realize she's the one person never on the invite list

✎— warnings: this is an 18+ series, minors DNI; this first chapter is pretty tame tbh, but we've got name calling, mentions of Wanda being an innocent little bean, allusions to bullying, and Brock Rumlow being a jerk

✎— words: 2.5k

series masterlist. || main masterlist.

That semester, you shared three classes, but your Folklore and Terror class was where you’d first seen her and just for that, it was your favorite. Three times a week you’d walk into the small lecture hall, barely on time, and Wanda Maximoff would already be settled at her chosen spot with her notebook open, books stacked neatly, pen and highlighters ready to be picked up as soon as your professors opened their mouths. She was like that for every class no matter what; from day one it was clear Wanda enrolled in college to learn, not socialize.

Upon first glance, she’d single handedly convinced you she was the standard: focused, task-oriented, and studious. And just as quickly, you’d found Wanda was the exception instead of the rule. The rest of your classmates were exponentially more relaxed, talking to one another about anything from their massive workload to the current flatmate drama between dormitories. It was a tight-knit campus, most of the students having gone to school together since kindergarten and grown up in the tiny isolated town of Westview about an hour away.

You’d expected to turn into a loner for a while, especially with transferring here in your third year, but new people were exciting front page news to young adults who’d seen the same faces for two decades and soon enough, invitations for study sessions over coffee, bonfires, and late night parties with weed brownies came pouring in. Everyone was surprisingly welcoming and you were grateful for the introductions, the companionship, all of it.. but wherever you went, Wanda was absent.

Eternally polite and quiet Wanda was nowhere to be found outside of class, and it only piqued your curiosity further.

After some casual prodding, you found out Wanda also grew up in Westview, but she was only a topic as an excuse for a few particularly annoyed girls to roll their eyes and sneer. Smart as she was, Wanda wasn’t ever invited to study groups, not that she asked either, no, she didn’t speak a word to anyone besides instructors and a few select people you recognized from your transfer orientation— the only kids that didn’t know her from town.

A handful of times you’d caught her staring your way, but as soon as she noticed you looking back, she whipped around or turned her eyes back to her notes. For the first few weeks, you tried to pretend her avoidance didn’t bother you, but seeing her chat with other students made you wonder why she wouldn’t do the same with you. Sure you hadn’t approached her yourself, but honestly, you hadn’t worked up a good enough excuse to past “hey you’re pretty cute, please talk to me” and it just sounded too weird in your head to say aloud.

Unfortunately, before you’d gotten a chance to think of a better conversation starter, Wanda started walking to your desk after class and your brain went into panic mode not only wondering what to say, but also what she could possibly want after seemingly avoiding you since the semester started. It was fine, everything was fine, she didn’t look mad at all, maybe… nervous?

You were moments away from speaking up as she made her way over… only to stop dead in her tracks when Brock Rumlow slung his arm over your shoulder. Just as soon as he began running his mouth about the next soccer game, Wanda spun around and made a beeline for her chair as if she hadn’t acknowledged you at all. While he ranted on and on, you tried to quell the disappointment, but it tugged the corners of your mouth down into a frown anyways. Not that the loud athlete noticed. “Shut up for a second… What do you know about Wanda?”

He only scoffed, both of you turning your attention to where the shy brunette now hurriedly packed her stuff into her red messenger bag. With all of her notebooks and pretty stationary, you wondered if her bag ever felt heavy… and if she’d let you carry it to class for her some time. “That religious little daddy’s girl? Stay away from her.”

The strong reaction shouldn’t have caught you off guard, not when anyone who talked about her did so with the same distasteful tone, but it never failed to feel kind of… harsh. You didn’t need to grow up with a group of people to know how easy it can be to target one person and exaggerate every aspect of them until they grew to be a much bigger monster than they ever were in the first place.

“She seems sweet though… Is she really that bad?” It was hard to believe anyone could dislike her that much when she was all oversized knit sweaters and gentle enough smiles to make you melt from across an entire lecture hall.

“Hey! Put those heart eyes away!” Brock poked your hip until you looked at him instead, ignoring your annoyed huff, “What’d I just say? She’s a total narc who goes running to her father as soon as she hears anything. I’m assuming you’ve never been to Westview?” You shook your head; the drive to your new school didn’t take you past the town and you’d been too busy with classes to explore yet. “Right, well Wanda’s dad runs the church, the one all our parents go to; whenever he got wind of something going down, all of us got a speech at home. Bit of a shame, she’s kinda cute, but can’t tell that bitch anything unless you want it blown to shit-”

You might not have been friends with Wanda yet, but that didn’t mean you’d let someone, especially anyone as sleazy as Brock, demean her so boldly. It was in that sentence you discovered Wanda most likely kept her distance because of your new friend group. If so many people treated her how he did, you couldn’t blame her for staying away.

A hard elbow to the stomach left him choking on his own words, killing two birds with one stone to both shut him up and force him to let you go; you never liked how touchy he was anyways. “We’re all years into college now. She can’t still be like that.”

“I’m not gonna chance it,” he shrugged, slinging his bag over his shoulder as if you hadn’t just knocked the wind out of him, “She goes home a lot more than anyone else, heard Mr. Maximoff picks her up too even though he pays for her apartment here. Something about her needing her own space to stay focused without ‘distractions’... weirdos, don’t know how her brother turned out normal. Trust me, the most you’ll get with her is maybe a walk through the courtyard.”

A walk didn’t sound too bad right about now, particularly far away from this eye-opening, but awful little chat. “Well her dad doesn’t know me or my parents…” Maybe one day, hopefully, if you played your cards right, he would.

Clumsily grabbing your stuff, you rushed out the door Wanda crossed through just a few seconds prior, looking around and finding her rushing down the stone path. “Wanda!” She had to have heard you, stopping briefly before continuing on, walking purposefully away even as you yelled out her name again. “Wait up a sec!”

It was a quick sprint to catch up with her, speeding a little ahead to jump ahead, forcing her to stop so as not to collide with you. “Wanda.. Hey!”

“Hi,” Even after weeks of lectures, you’d never seen her this close and already Brock was wrong; Wanda wasn’t just kinda cute, she was beautiful. Green eyes regarded you cautiously, narrowed ever so slightly. Her stiff posture showed she was already on guard, so different from the easy way you’d seen her open up to anyone else and you couldn’t lie, it stung a bit. You didn’t want her to be so worried; maybe the people you sat with didn’t like her, but you’d never said a mean word and even if you tried, you couldn’t think of one to say.

You could barely think of a coherent sentence to offer her.

“Hi… sorry for yelling,” You were a little out of breath, weighed down by your bag and still groggy from your professor’s boring lecture. For a second, you were scared Wanda would simply side step you and keep walking, taking advantage of your fatigue to avoid you entirely, but her expression softened, turning almost apologetic for her hostility. She even had a cute pout. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

Faint laughter sounded out behind you and the classroom was a ways away now, but Wanda’s eyes darted over her shoulder, catching Brock and a few of his various pals now on the grass, waving your way. You would’ve shouted at them to quit it, but you heard Wanda’s sigh and chose to ignore the ruckus for now, not wanting to accidentally egg them on further. “I hear a lot of things. Doesn’t mean I should pay attention to them.”

“Right…” Shit. She must’ve caught bits of your conversation, Brock wasn’t exactly a subtle guy. Wanda was gone by the time you cut him off; given how openly disliked she was, it couldn’t have been the first time she’d overheard herself being talked about. No wonder she practically ran out of the room. “Sorry about that.”

You felt for her in a sense, could empathize with being ostracized from your peers. Typically, going away to college fixed that, but Wanda was still stuck with the same group of people. Not that you wanted to talk to her out of guilt, not even close; the first thoughts you’d had about Wanda were far more lustful than pitying. All you wanted was one chance to get to know her for yourself. “Can I walk you to your next class?”

Wanda didn’t even try to hide her shock and you tried to pretend her reaction didn’t scare you that your other classmate was right about the courtyard walk. “That was my only class today.”

“Mine too,” In truth, you had two long classes filling your afternoon; missing them just once wouldn’t hurt. Besides, you’d still be learning, replacing Wanda Maximoff for Governmental Statistics and World Literature. “Have lunch with me then?”

You could see her working through the proposition in her head, gauging your persistence against your seemingly genuine smile. She’d wanted to talk to you just as long as you had her, but there were…obstacles. Not only the crowd that drew you in, but also the beginnings of what she was just recently coming to terms with as a crush. Initially Wanda brushed it off as you being brand new, but when she caught herself making excuses to look your way and thinking about you while she grocery shopped, she knew her feelings wouldn’t pass by so easily.

As much as she knew her inexperience combined with her bottom tier social status meant she had about zero chance with someone like you who she’d seen flirting with more than one girl already in your short time here, Wanda couldn’t get herself over it— over you.

And Wanda wanted to have faith in you, to trust this wasn’t some awful prank you got roped into after you and her constant tormentors somehow sussed out her growing feelings and decided to poke at her new weakness for a laugh, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d fallen into that trap.

The first experience was traumatizing enough, Wanda would rather not have to relive it as an adult. If the words religious little daddy’s girl weren’t still ringing in her head, she wouldn’t have thought twice. “You want to have lunch with me?”

“Well I’d ask you out to dinner, but it’s only 1pm.” Not to mention, you’d been helpless thinking of some introduction that wasn’t clearly leading her on. Your usual smooth pickups felt too forward for a girl like Wanda, given what you knew about her; she’d take a lot of work to get to where you got with some people in just a few minutes and you really, really didn’t want to mess this up.

Wanda’s cheeks blossomed pink at your cheeky comment and you were glad to have caught even a glimpse of it before she could hide her face behind her notebook. At least you could bank on her not being too extremely prudish, that gave you some wiggle room. “To make up for that asshole back there, please? We can get whatever you want, I’ll even pay.”

The terms sounded like a date, a lunch date, but it was all the same to Wanda who’d never successfully been on a date as well as to her fluttering heart. You learned right then Wanda was beautiful when annoyed, but positively gorgeous when she smiled at you. There were a million and one ways she could’ve responded, from disgust to polite rejection to even an overly gushy yes, but Wanda had to at least try to reply with a fraction of your ease. “I didn’t say no the first time.”

“Well then, take us to your lunch spot of choice, sweetheart.” You stepped aside to let her go ahead, just missing Wanda’s cheeks darken to a tomato red from the sudden nickname, following close behind as your date led the way to her mystery destination.

“There’s not much around here, you probably know where you’re going…” She was right, all walkable campus things were familiar to you now, but you could care less.

“Shh, let me have this surprise-” Your phone buzzed in your pocket and unlocking it revealed an obnoxious text from Brock filled with kissy faces and laughing emojis. By the end of the day, it’d surely get around that you decided to hang out with their Public Enemy No.1, but you’d choose watching Wanda’s pretty pleated skirt bouncing ever so slightly as she walked with her adorable cautious glances, making sure you were actually still behind her, over the smell of sports sweat and hefty doses of Axe body spray any time. “I think you’re taking me the prettier route there anyways.”

Wanda’s mouth fell open when she realized your gaze wasn’t on the sidewalk or the leaves, but her, bashful yet again as she whipped back around. With less self-restraint you would’ve pulled her in for a hug, maybe nuzzled into her hair if you thought she’d accept that out here in the open. But girls like Wanda were a special kind, requiring time and coaxing and just the right words.

You were willing to give her all of that and more. If no one else wanted her, you’d sure as hell take her before some other idiot could.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff au #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff series #marvel imagine #confessions au.#maximotts #motts writes.

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mystycalypso · 2 months

Text

OKAY LETS TRY THIS AGAIN

Welcome To Ravenbrooks season 2 Theories before it comes out

Disclaimer uh- these are the ramblings of a mad man named Jack (me). Mainly so when it does eventually come out I can see what if anything I got right. Now lets get into it below the fold.

1. It's revealed that Jay Roth (Nicky's dad) is the one who died in Trinity's old house

We know in both the book and games and even the pilot, Nicky was the one living across from Mr. Peterson, but now it's Trinity's home. I think the grief of what happened in that house is why they moved

2. We'll get to see the rest of the Rescue Squad's parents

Pretty self-explanatory. I don't know what story purpose they'd serve exactly, aside from maybe how they react to their kids' shenanigans but it'd be really cool to see them. Especially Luanne Roth who I am currently head canoning to be neglectful in some manner (not necessarily on purpose) because of the lines about Nicky running away all the time and no one noticing he went missing.

3. We see a cultist in uniform

I think it'd be really interesting if specifically Trinity finds them mid ceremony or if bad things start happening to her family and she gets suspicious

4. The kids learn Mr. Peterson isn't "evil"

We know in the books that Theo is looking heavily into the cult, and he seems to be doing the same here. I think in Trinity's realization's she'll learn his real motivations for keeping them away, maybe even his side of the stories from episode 3

5. We learn what Trinity did

We have hints at what happened, obviously, but with the teaser image reusing the old photo of kid Trinity, l think we're going to learn what exactly happened and why it was so bad that they had to move towns

6. More nightmare sequences

From the hello neighbor franchise in general, we've learned that both Trinity and Nicky are prone to nightmares, and with the trauma they've gained from episode 6, I assume we'll get to see plenty other creepy cool nightmare scenes. (Seriously, just the maggots from episode 2 make me squirm physically when I see it. Every time)

7. Principle Abanante isn't dead

This might be clear to some, and yeah, it's far from the greatest stretch on this list but I think we'll see her again and maybe that she caused the school explosion

8. Delroy(and possibly Scout)'s investigations

I'm very curious about what Delroy was doing in the tunnels under the school, maybe doing his own investigations on the cult? Scout included to round out the Hello Neighbor hide and seek crew. Likely having to join forced with the current members of the rescue squad to stop a stronger force.

9. We see Theodore's brother in his "new form"

Not 100% sure if he became the Guest or the Thing, and I've seen good theories/evidence for both, but either way I think we'll get to see him with the knowledge that it's him.

10. We learn why Ivan acted the way he did in s1

He was more scared of just the mention of Peterson than anyone, and it's been bugging me since my first watch. I'd like to see if there's reason to his behavior or just general paranoia. Leaning towards the former, knowing this series.

11. Love triangle between Trinity, Nicky and Enzo

I'd really rather this doesn't happen. I hate love triangles so much. They're so dumb and useless and bad. But like I told kaydin during our third watch, I can feel it happening. It's breathing down my neck with the loud annoying sound of needless romantic tension.

12. The whole squad sits together at lunch

They escaped the basement together! The least they could do as friends is actually eat lunch together instead of Nicky and Trinity sitting seperate from everyone else

13. Nicky and Aaron's relationship is revealed

I'm really, REALLY hopeful that their friendship isn't retconned in the series. It was great motivation for Nicky to be investigating Mr. Peterson, and is also just generally sweet.

14. We see Aaron

Nicky was the basement for a couple of weeks. However, Aaron was in there for months! I'm eager to see how he is both mentally and physically. I feel like he's either gonna be much, much worse than Nicky or somehow way better.

15. Quentin becomes my favorite character

This is mostly on here as a joke. I'm not gonna lie, I know he'll be at least a favorite because he's my favorite Hello Neighbor game character. Like- the squeal I squealed when I saw his van and silly Hawaiian shirt was immense. I love him so much, and I hope he gets good screen time.

16. Nicky loses his bag

This is more just a- gut feeling? He's gained it as a sort of comfort item, it seems, and I feel like with the nature and badluck of Ravenbrooks, he's going to lose it. Bonus points if he has to choose between it or a member of the Rescue Squad

17. Mr. martaugh dies

Again, I have- no evidence for this. Yeah, he's in the teasers a lot, but like that doesn't imply he dies. Maybe I just really hope he dies because he's creepy /j, but yeah, uh- if it happens, I'll probably still be in shock even though it's on this list.

18. We see an on screen kiss

Tricky fans cross your fingers and pray, I know I will be. It'll probably just be a quick peck on the cheek, but I can just kind of feel it in my bones. Similar to the love triangle one.

And there you go! My predictions for Season 2!

As soon as it drops, you will probably see my reaction to it and a return to this list to see how close or far I was on these. (Spoiler tagged, of course) But until then, I will be patiently waiting, drawing, and rewatching the show too many times over (wonder if I can hit 50 watches before season 2 drops)

Cya!

- Jack

#welcome to raven brooks #hello neighbor welcome to raven brooks #hello neighbor nicky #trinity hello neighbor #tricky #trinity bales hello neighbor #enzo esposito #enzo hello neighbor #hello neighbor theories #aaron hello neighbor #hello neighbor aaron #aaron peterson #theodore peterson #mr peterson #maritza esposito hello neighbor #maritza hello neighbor #quentin hello neighbor #predictions #hnas

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avatar-anna · 2 years

Text

Matilda

summary: Harry reflects on his time spent with professor and writes a song about it

The Professor Series

Harry sat alone in the studio, his song journal opened to a blank page in front of him. Everyone had left for the day already, but he decided to stay behind. There was nothing worth going back to, anyway.

“What’s going on with you?” Mitch finally asked him an hour ago. It was the third unproductive day of the week. Harry remained unusually quiet all day, not wanting to contribute to any ideas being thrown around the studio.

Harry didn’t answer his friend’s question, because the truth was too painful to admit. He was heartbroken, and he only had himself to blame.

Not that Mitch or anyone else on his team would understand. No one knew about the extraordinary woman he met in Cambridge, his professor.

Why he thought not telling her who he really was would be a good idea, Harry had no clue. But he’d done it, and now everything was completely ruined.

Y/n was gone, she didn’t even want to see him before she packed up and left to move to a different country. That stung, and it made him frustrated that she didn’t want to hear him out, but he also knew Y/n. She was overwhelmed and he had broken her trust, something he knew she didn’t give to just anyone.

What hurt most of all was that he never wanted to be one of the people in Y/n’s life to hurt her. She had such a gentle soul, had put up with so much. So many people had already been so cruel to her, including her family, who was supposed to show her love. Harry wanted to be someone in her life that was consistently good.

Tossing his journal to the side, he went over to his bag and pulled an old, beat up copy of Matilda by Roald Dahl. Harry had never read the novel before meeting his professor, but now he never went anywhere without it.

It was Y/n’s, a favorite of hers, so much so that it didn’t live on the overstuffed shelves of her Cambridge townhouse. No, it sat on her bedside table where she had easy access to it at all times. Harry had seen it the night he slept in her room. He’d never seen the inside of her bedroom before then, but when he finally did, he soaked up every little detail like a sponge. The light airiness of it all, the antique furniture, stacks of ungraded assignments waiting for her on her desk, the plain, yet finely made bed clothes. But above it all was the little stack of novels by Y/n’s bed, Matilda sitting on top.

“I’ve read hundreds of books, but this one remains my favorite,” she said when she noticed him staring at it.

“Why?” he asked her, not out of judgement, but out of curiosity.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I just...saw myself in Matilda, I guess.“

“Well, what’s it about?”

Y/n explained, had even recited her favorite parts from memory for him. Her eyes lit up the way they always did when she talked about something she was passionate about, and Harry couldn’t help but smile.

Looking back now, Harry was so consumed with being in her bedroom and seeing her face without the mask obstructing it, that he didn’t realize how sad it was that Y/n’s favorite book was Matilda. It hurt his heart to know that a soul as kind and gentle as Y/n’s had been hurt so badly by the people who were meant to love her. But he couldn't deny the similarities between his professor and Matilda.

His memories and recollections of his time with Y/n were painful, yet Harry thought of her often. Because with the pain was the warm, cozy feeling that he'd felt when he was with her. He missed laying on the floor of her townhouse and talking about books and stars and the origins of constellation names, he missed the blunt, almost harsh honesty with which the professor spoke, he missed her collection of sweaters and mismatched socks and the smell of jasmine that lingered in her apartment. He missed the Emperor, he missed the little snort Y/n made when Harry made her laugh.

But most of all, he missed the person he was around her. Y/n was quiet, and more intelligent than Harry would ever be able to comprehend, but she imbued him with a confidence, a sense a self that he'd never felt around anyone, not even his own family. Their relationship, their friendship, was technically built on a lie, but Harry had never felt more like himself than when he was with her.

Opening up Y/n’s copy of Matilda, Harry began to read. Again.

Sometimes Matilda longed for a friend, someone like the kind, courageous people in her books.

Harry didn't know how many times he'd read this book since he'd taken it from Y/n’s desk, but that line always stuck with him. For its poignancy and the notes Y/n had made next to it in the margins and on post-it notes she'd stuck there. There was different colored ink around the quote, marking a new thought for each time she reread her favorite book.

Matilda is like me. School is very lonely without friends.

Naive. Kind and courageous people only exist between the pages of books.

I think I met someone Matilda might have longed for. He's very kind. Nice eyes.

I was wrong. But it's fine. Everyone in my life has turned out to be a disappointment, why would this be any different?

The last two notes were obviously the most recent entries, and obviously about Harry. Reading it never failed to stir butterflies and make him feel even worse for betraying his professor's trust.

Tears sprang his eyes. He wanted her to know that she wasn't wrong, that he was the kind of friend she'd always wanted.

But he hadn't been, had he?

Harry hid a huge part of himself from Y/n, had let his own fears and insecurities get in the way of being truly connected to someone. It was nice to be a version of himself that he hadn't been in a long time around her, but she deserved the truth. Harry had just been too cowardly to own up to his mistakes. And by the time he worked up the courage, she found out by looking him up online.

He couldn't tell her everything he wanted to say now, but he could do it in a way that might one day reach her, even if he did never see her again.

“Nothing about the way you were treated ever seemed especially alarming 'til now,” Harry wrote, and from there he scribbled harshly in his journal until it was done.

Staring at the song in front of him, he didn't know if it should have a place on the album or if he should just keep it to himself. Either way, he felt the tiniest bit better after writing it.

Harry packed up his things to go home. As he walked to his car, he pulled up a contact on his phone and hovered his phone over the call button. To call or not to call. Y/n wouldn't answer anyways, but sometimes he would call just to hear her voicemail.

He didn't this time, thinking he'd tortured himself enough over everything that happened for one day. Instead he called Mitch, who did answer.

“Hey, I think I have something.”

#harry styles #harry styles x professor yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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mariacallous · 2 months

Text

In the summer of 2022, when Liz Truss was about to become prime minister, I noticed that she was an admirer of Rick Perlstein, one of the great historians of modern America.

Aspiring politicians like to tell the media about their favourite writers, even if they barely look at a book from one year to the next. It gives them a touch of class.

But there was no doubt in this case that Truss was sincere, and knew Perlstein’s work intimately.

She told journalists from the Times that she read “anything” Perlstein wrote. An interviewer from the Atlantic magazine saw a copy of Perlstein’s The Invisible Bridge on her shelf, the third of his four-volume series on the rise of the radical right in the United States between 1960 and 1980, and said it was just the kind of book you’d expect her to read.

Then there was a weird moment in an interview with the Spectator when an anonymous spokeswoman for the Truss campaign, who sounded very like Truss herself, explained that her rival Rishi Sunak was failing to win over Tory members because he refused to pander to their prejudices.

“If people think there is an imaginary river,” the source said, “you don’t tell them there isn’t, you build them an imaginary bridge.”

You can find that quote at the beginning of the Perlstein history of the US right in the mid-1970s that was on Liz Truss’s bookcase. And it is highly revealing. Perlstein picked it from a meeting between Nikita Khrushchev and Richard Nixon in the late 1950s. The Soviet leader told the then US vice-president that politicians must create their own reality by pandering to the fear in their supporters’ minds.

“If the people believe there is an imaginary river out there,” Khrushchev said, “you don’t tell them there’s no river out there. You build an imaginary bridge over the imaginary river.”

Truss, or someone close to her was saying that Tories did not want to face facts. They wanted their fantasies confirmed, which is exactly what she did — at enormous cost to the country.

I contacted Perlstein and asked what he thought of having the UK’s next prime minister as a fan.

Let me put it like this: he may have been her favourite historian, but she was not his favourite politician. Not even close. Not even in the top 1,000. He found her astonishingly stupid.

”Liz. Can’t. Read,” he replied, and began a long – and for British readers frightening – account of how and why our new government of wannabe Reaganites would crash the economy.

As they went on to do.

Truss’s notion that tax cuts for the rich pay for themselves had been developed in the 1970s. The new wealth of the already wealthy was meant to boost the economy and tax base and trickle down to the rest of society.

In the fourth volume of his series, Perlstein covered the grifters who sold the idea of self-funding tax cuts and explained how dubious they were.

And yet here, 50-years on, was his devoted reader Liz Truss reading his history as a guidebook rather than a warning.

Why do terrible ideas refuse to die?

You could say in this case that Truss was so stupid she did not understand the past. This was Perlstein’s point.

Then there’s greed. If you want to proselytise for tax cuts for the rich, you will never be short of a paying audience, as the Tufton Street think tanks well know.

Finally, there’s deceit. Conservatives don’t necessarily believe that they will raise money for public services. The enterprise of pretending tax cuts are self-financing is a con designed to weaken state provision.

All three played their part in the voodoo economics of US conservatism and the disastrous reign of Liz Truss.

Here’s how…

Neo-liberalism was forged in the 1970s as the post-war Keynesian or New Deal consensus fell apart.

One of the new ideas that emerged was trickle-down economics. Until then, the traditional conservative argument was that you needed to reduce spending or increase growth if you wanted to reduce taxes.

This was the case that Rishi Sunak put in his failed attempt to defeat Truss in the 2022 leadership contest.

But in the mid-1970s hucksters and ideologues maintained that there was no need to cut spending. The growth tax cuts inspired would more than cover the cost.

The Laffer curve suggested that there was a point where tax rises were counterproductive. People would turn down work if the state took too much of their income, although where that point was is always disputed.

Getting into these practical arguments misses the point, however. There was an exuberant eruption of voodoo economics in the mid-1970s, which had no concern for technical accuracy.

Perlstein put it to me like this

“[With] conventional Keynesian – ‘liberal’ – solutions failing, all sorts of intellectual entrepreneurs on the right came forth with their solutions to the problem, as I narrate in Reaganland, a volume Liz claims to have read. [Of the] many solutions on the table, the one that prevailed was the one that all the actually half-way qualified experts on the right knew was nothing but a fairy tale on a par with Jack in the Beanstalk. [It was] devised by a dude whose only economic training, in his own description, came from learning to count cards at the blackjack tables in Las Vegas. I wish I were making this up, but I am not.”

Perlstein was referring to Jude Wanniski, a journalist who did indeed coin the term “supply-side economics” in the 1970s after a spell working in Las Vegas. He attracted the attention of Reagan, Jack Kemp and Steve Forbes with his promise that the Laffer curve guaranteed that, if conservative politicians cut taxes, the economy would boom.

As Perlstein notes, Wanniski’s first piece promoting the idea in a 1975 issue of the Conservative journal Public Interest “lacked almost everything that made economic arguments convincing to other economists”. There were only four footnotes. No data. No formal models. Economists thought supply-side economics was a joke. It would take decades to recoup the money lost in tax cuts to wealthy people, they argued.

Milton Friedman, who was hardly a socialist, said the inflation that unfunded tax cuts would produce meant that supply-side economics was merely a “proposal to change the form of taxes” rather than lower them. They would generate price and interest rates rises as indeed happened during the Truss debacle.

Alan Greenspan, who once again was a man of the right, who hung out with Ayn Rand no less, nevertheless said he knew of no one who believed that Arthur Laffer’s curve would magically turn tax cuts into increased government revenues.

And so it has proved again and again. Ronald Reagan’s administration provided the classic example. It cut taxes but the promised surge in tax revenues did not happen. All that happened was the national debt increased.

David Stockman, Reagan’s Director of the Office of Management and Budget admitted that "none of us really understands what's going on with all these numbers," as the experiment played out. He rapidly came to the conclusion that the administration needed to cut spending to balance the books. But as he said in his The Triumph of Politics: Why the Reagan Revolution Failed Conservative politicians preferred large deficits and an increasing national debt to cutting programmes their constituents liked.

Under Reagan, Bush and Trump they were happy to keep cutting. One of the features of US politics is that the national debt is as likely to rise under right-wing as left-wing governments,

Obviously, arguing that cutting the wealthy’s taxes was virtuous in itself pleased the wealthy. It pleased Republican party donors in the 1970s, and it pleased the Tory donors who poured money into Liz Truss’s campaign in 2022.

But there is more to it than that.

In an article for the Wall Street Journal in 1976, Wanniski said the problem with the old right with its insistence on saving money was that it wanted to be Scrooge when it should be Santa Claus.

It should deliver tax cuts, forget about the national debt, and sit back as a grateful citizenry showed their gratitude at polling stations. Left-wingers wanted to give taxpayer-funded goodies to their supporters. Very well, right-wingers should want to give tax cuts to theirs.

In the 1970s, Irving Kristol, the editor of Public Interest, was explicit that politics must trump economics. The political advantage tax cuts would provide to the Republicans was so historically imperative they should be blasted through whatever the effect on the budget.

“The neo-Conservative is willing to leave those problems to be coped with by liberal interregnums,’ he wrote in the Wall Street Journal. “He wants to shape the future and will leave it to his opponents to tidy up afterwards.”

We are now in a moment like the 1970s. Taxes keep rising and Conservatives and indeed the rest of us have yet to come to terms with the cost of an ageing society. As anger grows, I doubt that Truss will be the last Tory to try to magic away reality and build an invisible bridge to a fantastical future.

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mayzi33 · 2 months

Text

******SPOILERS, SO MANY SPOILERS AHEAD.*********

I have so much to say I'm afraid my brain might explode. So I'll try to keep calm despite still being at the verge of tears.

When I first started this book series, I thought it would be the usual light, cutesy fantasy about friendship and family. And oh boy, OH BOY WAS I WRONG.

On a side note, something I'd like to point out I noticed, from the first book to the third, the lighting on the cover progressively gets darker. Of course, representing the story itself as the plot gets darker as well. On the last book, it's still dark, but there's a light coming from Janner, Kalmar and Leeli, like they finally reached sunrise after a long, ruthless night. Something i'm pretty sure was said at some point on the books themselves, about no matter how long the night is the day will always come.

Anyways. Back to the topic at hand. As the story progressed, I keep growing more and more connected to these characters, and each chapter I rooted more and more for the Jewels Of Anniera.

I'd like to add that I'm an only child, yet, somehow, I can tell Janner is one of the best eldest sibling characters ever written. My whole life I've only watched siblings around me and their relationship with eachother, especially on the eldest's side, and somehow, Janner reminded me of every friend, family member or random stranger I saw on the streets someday that have siblings.

Janner is such a complex character. He is by no means perfect, but he does have a golden heart. One of the things I was most impressed by was how the author described Janner's feelings, whatever it was the longing for his father, or just feeling burdened by his siblings. And yet, no matter what Janner is feeling, the narrator never invalidates his feelings or antagonize him. Janner is a child, a child who went through a lot. He is allowed to miss a father he never had just as he is allowed to sometimes be annoyed for always having to make sacrifices for his siblings. But one of the things I admired the most about Janner (along with everyone else I'm pretty sure) was his character development. At the first book, he'd roll his eyes at the mere thought of having to look after his siblings and saw them as a burden. At the second book, he learned the hard way how much Kalmar and Leeli matter to him, and how it hurts to be away from them. On the third book, he took pride on his title as Throne Warden and role as the eldest sibling, being devoted to protecting the High King and Song Maiden. And at last, on the last book, he leaves pride aside. He doesn't take care of Kalmar and Leeli because it's his duty, because it's honorable, neither because that's what he has always been told to do. He does it because he loves them above all else, because he finally sees how strong the bond the three of them share truly is, because he feels the blessing the Maker has gifted them, and how much stronger they are when they're together.

Janner is a kind, brave, clever, beautiful boy.

And I will forever believe that they managed to get him the water from the First Well to heal him. I will nor accept any other ending.

Kalmar. At first, the typical goofy, troublemaking sibling, more like a comic relief. But again, OHOHOHO BOY... DID THAT CHANGE.

I definetely did not expect for them to take the turn they did with Kalmar. I could tell that he would have some character arc mainly towards maturing and taking responsability, but I DID NOT EXPECT IT TO BE LIKE THAT. Seeing that bright, easy-going, smiley little boy loosing his usual joyful personality when he was fanged, slowly loosing his sanity and growing on his self loathing was really something painful yet beautiful to watch. Like Janner, he also had to learn his lesson on the hardest way possible. An extrovert kid like him, having everyone turning their backs on him and looking at him with hatred, and yet, he learned to keep his head high, like a High King. (the phrase "keep your head held high or else your crown will fall" is literally perfect for him.) And most of all, seeing him risk his life to aid a strange cloven, (that turned out to be his father) grant the Hollowsfolk his forgiveness despite everything they did to him, show mercy and compassion to the Fangs despite everything they did, all of these things make Kalmar an inspiring ruler, and leaves me assured that he will be a great king after all.

Now, Leeli, sweet, pure-hearted Leeli. I will be honest, at first I was afraid that they would make her the typical "overly nice and overly fragile female character", but again, BOY WAS I WRONG. (I don't know how many times I will repeat that, I apologize.) At some points in the books, she didn't have as much spotlight as her brother and I felt like she was kind of being thrown aside. But there's always a turn the books take that make her lack of spotlight at first worth it. So young, the youngest of the Jewels Of Anniera, yet she has seen and done so much. Has a bad leg, needed to use a crutch since she was little, yet that literally never stopped her. She strives to keep up with her brothers, and despite his kind personality she shows she can be festy and even scary when she wants to. (I will never forget that moment in the second book where she was yelling at the trolls and fangs and they were actually eager to obey her lol). She hates it when people assume she's weak and often refuses help, proving she's perfectly capable. But at times, she does need help, which shows us all it's okay to have someone to rely on. She was the link between Janner and Kalmar, no matter how much they argued nor how mad they were at eachother, she was always there for both of them and connecting them back together. She may not be able to fight like her brothers, but she found her own strenght. Her music, something that has always brought joy and hope to others turns out to be an ACTUAL weapon. She kicked a Green Fang to defend her puppy, she was the first one to see the pain and kindess through Peet, Nugget sacrificed himself for her showing how her strong her love for others really is, she stopped A FREAKING DRAGON from killing her grandpa, she led an army of dogs, she defeated countless fangs with nothing but her song. One of the best child female chracters I've seen in a while. She is feminine, has her weak points, but she finds her strenght, not in swords, punches or bows but on a whistleharp. I love her so much I can't describe it.

I love all of these kids so much. I am *proud* of them. I know it's a weird thing to say about fictional characters, but these books just make me feel this way. I can't name a single character I didn't connect or feel empathy with.

Nia, such a strong, independent woman, raising her children having lost her husband and kingdom, yet keep her head held high like the queen she is.

Podo, a man who has sinned, takes shame on them, yet shows that sinners can still be good people. Loves his family above all else, protected and took care of them until his last breath, might have been a little rough around the edges, but always showed a soft spot for his daughter and grandkids.

Artham, a broken man, haunted by the shame of loosing his brother, slowly, but surely, healing. Learning to move on by protecting his nephews and niece, making what was once a weakness a strenght.

Oskar, an old man that was always sitting on the library, letting go of his peaceful life and risking his life to accompany the Wingfeathers through thick and thin.

Sara, who was taken from her family, abused and had all her hope crushed, finding her courage back after meeting Janner and taking after him, being a sisterly figure, leader and queen ti billions of orphan children, and helping them find their strenght and fight for their freedom.

Maraly, a rude strander girl who was raised horribly her whole life by her abusive father, finally finding true love and a true father figure.

Everything about this story has touched me. A broken world taken by an evil monarch who turned to be just another broken soul, filled with hopeless people, people who had surrended to the darkness... Saved by three children, who brought light everywhere they went. A boy with scars, a boy inside a wolf, and a girl with a crutch. Kids who one day were mere peasants, the other were the Jewels Of Anniera, and a year later, heroes of Aerwiar.

I've smiled, I've laughed, I've been shocked, I've been scared, I've been mad, I've cried. I have red lots, and I mean LOTS of books. Different stories, different worlds, different characters. Yet none of them has touched me half as much as The Wingfeather Saga.

It has war, tears, bloodshed, betrayals, sacrifices and sorrow. But it also has love, joy, hope, laughter, wonder and light.

This story definetely deserves way more fans and recognition. I hope that with the new animated series (which I'll definetely watch later) it begins to gain more love.

Anyways. I really love this in case y'all couldn't tell already. Have a good day/afternoon/evening.

#the wingfeather saga #janner wingfeather #kalmar wingfeather #leeli wingfeather #the warden and the wolf king #podo helmer #nia wingfeather #book rant #andrew peterson #christianity #underrated books #fantasy books

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ironstrange1991 · 1 year

Text

As Strange As It Seems (Part II)

Pairing: Doctor!Strange, Defender!Strange and Supreme!Strange x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Y/n, Stephen and Defender are still learning about the relationship that exists between the three when a new variant crosses the border of their universe. Can the relationship survive a third Stephen?

Word Count: 7,8k

Warnings: Sexual content including p in v sex, creampie

A/N: Months later I finally managed to write part two. It's basically a chain of events leading up to the established polyamorous relationship that I love to write about.

Supreme is an idiot, but every time I write him I fall more in love with him. Really hope you guys like this one as much as I do because I am obsessed. There will be a part three and four of this. I'm just letting you know ;)

SERIES MASTERLIST

It was a lazy day for you. Although spring had arrived a few weeks ago the winter chill still persisted and you couldn't complain. You were a winter person. Blankets, tea, fluffy socks, the bodies of your two loves sandwiching you on the kink size sofa. What could you complain about?

On that particular morning you had woken up just before dawn and completely lost sleep, so you grabbed a blanket, your favorite book and went downstairs to the living room and sprawled on the couch. A few minutes later, you were completely involved with reading and even noticed the sun rising, only realizing it when you started to hear the routine noises of the morning in Greenwich Village.

It was Saturday morning and you weren't going to work for which you were very grateful. The last few weeks had been very busy at the office and you felt that if you didn't have a few days of rest you would soon have a burnout. So you decided that that weekend you would do absolutely nothing, it would be two lazy days, reading on the couch and eating takeout. Preferably Italian with red wine. Oh yes, you deserved some time off, some rest and definitely some peace and quiet.

You were distracted with your nose still buried in your book when you felt warm hands on your shoulders and a husky voice "Lost any sleep, baby?"

You sighed pressing your cheek against his hand "I took the opportunity to read a little. This book is really good."

He pressed his hands on your shoulders affectionately "I bet it is, how many times have you read it?"

"I've lost count. It's my comfort book. It hits the right spot every time."

He bent down to kiss the top of your head "I'm not sure I understand what you mean by that. Anyway, I'll make breakfast. Any special requests?"

You turned around, staring at him in surprise. He was still dressed in his sweatpants and T-shirt, his hair pulled back in a lazy bun. "Aren't you going to teach today?"

He shook his head "Wong said I could stay. Honestly, I needed some rest."

"That makes two of us" You said putting an arm around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. A soft, unpretentious kiss.

"So... breakfast"

You nodded "Waffles?"

He smile giving another kiss on your lips "It’s right away”

...

You were scattered across the sofas and armchairs in the living room. Stephen was distracted reading one of his magic books and Defender had just returned to the room and lit the fireplace at your request.

He approached the sofa where you were lying and you lift your legs for him to sit down, then stretched them back on his lap. He grabbed your feet and began massaging them absently. You let out a satisfied hum and continued with your eyes fixed on your iPad giggling to what you were reading. You didn't even notice that Defender was looking at you with one eyebrow raised.

"What are you reading?" He asked pulling you out of your almost trance. You felt your face getting hot. "Nothing."

"She is reading porn. About us." Stephen responded by looking up from the book he was reading. Defender shifted on the couch.

"It’s not porn" You ran to explain yourself.

"What do you mean about us?" He asked staring at Stephen who now had his face resting on one of his hands."

"It’s nothing, baby" You said turning off the device's screen and placing it on the side table. You sat up and then crawled closer to him. He opened his arms and you snuggled into them sighing at the feel of his body warmth and scent.

"Nothing stands for a ten thousand word smut fanfic."

You bit the inside of your cheek realizing you had been caught. "Stephen, don't be an ass."

Stephen chuckled still without looking up from his book "Why? You don't want him to know you're dirty? He thinks you are such a genuinely innocent girl."

"I am." You said defending yourself, but there was a sly smile on your lips.

Stephen gave a small laugh. "I know you for more than three years now, sweetheart, save that for him."

Defender smirked and stroked your face "What else do I need to know?" He asked and grabbed your chin and lifted it so he could kiss you. This time the kiss was more intense, almost as if he was jealous.

He lightly bit your lower lip before pulling away and then looked at you curiously "What is a smut fanfic?"

You threw your head back laughing amused at the turn the conversation had taken.

"It’s porn. For woman." Stephen replied now looking at you "Am I right, sweetheart?"

"You'd be surprised to know how many men read and comment on these fics, Stephen."

Stephen opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out, he frowned and his cheeks turned slightly pink.

You smiled in victory and then decided to explain yourself "You have very creative fans, it's not just porn, it has a very interesting plot too. I wonder how they know so much about your powers. I myself didn't know many things that appear in these stories."

"You're assuming they're true." Stephen replied and you shrugged.

"Anyway, it is...interesting."

Defender shook his head as if to dispel the idea that unknown people were writing inappropriate stories about him. "I think it's better not to know the details."

You chuckled "Trust me, it's for the best." You kissed him softly, intertwining your fingers in his hair and then deepening the kiss, he let out a soft moan in your lips that made your heart melt. "You don't think I'm dirty, right, Stephen?" Your hand dropped to his chest and continued down, implying something more, but before he could respond both of their cell phones started ringing at the same time and you pulled away.

Your perfect day wouldn't be so perfect. You just didn't imagine that a day that started out so banal could become so... strange.

...

The two Stephens didn't say exactly what was going on as they hurried off to meet Wong. They said only that the Sorcerer Supreme had detected an extremely strong source of magic threatening to rip apart the fabric of reality. What that meant exactly you didn't know, but you could see the concern in the eyes of the two who didn't stop giving orders like "Don't leave the Sanctum for nothing, do you understand?" "Keep your cell phone in your hand at all times, we'll call you." "No matter what happens, stay here and stay safe."

There was more than concern in those words, there was fear and their fear, however controlled it was, was enough to make you terrified.

They left through a portal to the Kamar Taj. Whatever they thought that was going to happen they thought it was going to be there, after all as Stephen said many times, the Kamar Taj was the greatest source of magic gathered on Earth, but what was entering your reality was not seeking confrontation nor power, he was looking for shelter and so he came to the only place where he could feel safe. Home.

You perfectly remembered the day Defender arrived in your universe. It was loud and scary, but you didn't remember being afraid of him for even a second. First because he spent the first few hours unconscious and second because he exuded calm, his face expressions were serene, his voice was low and smooth.

This time it was different. It was silent, just a flash of blue light and then you saw the very tissue of reality rip apart right in front of you and Stephen walked past it. Another Stephen. Completely aware of his actions and there seemed to be no confusion in his impassive blue eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing and why he was doing it.

You didn't know if you were in shock, but you couldn't feel your body, you couldn't move even though you could hear your cell phone ringing shrilly in your hand. You watched the man in front of you dressed in blue robes and cloak make a herculean effort to close the tear he caused in reality and then he turned to face you. He took two steps towards you and you felt an unknown fear wash over you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to pick up the damn phone and tell Stephen that the danger wasn't at the Kamar Taj but at home with you, but you couldn't move. He kept walking until he was only inches away and then he reached out and grabbed the cell phone from your hand and declined the call.

"What is your name?" He asked. The baritone voice finally snapping you out of the catatonic state you were in.

"Y/n" Your voice was barely a whisper.

"I know you, Y/n. I saw you a long time a go...in my dreams. Well, maybe it's another version of you."

You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing in your universe, but the words seemed to have slipped your mind.

"I know what you're thinking. Why am I here. It's a long story really, but I needed somewhere to get away. My universe... it's destroyed and I'd be dead if I hadn't made it to here in time. I had no choice. You understand that, don't you?"

You shook your head but didn't say anything. His story was basically the same as Defender's and that terrified you. Another universe destroyed? Another Stephen Strange? How could you deal with that?

"I know it's a lot to take in. Are you familiar with the multiverse?" He asked in a condescending tone of voice.

You nodded.

"Good. Now, I need you to pick up your phone and call your Doctor Strange. Can you do that for me?" He returned your cell phone.

You stared at the device in your hand and then back at him "Which one?"

He looked at you confused.

...

"She doesn't answer her phone. Damn it!" Stephen's hands were shaking but it wasn't from the damage to his nerves. A minute earlier everyone at Kamar Taj could feel that something had happened. It was like an extremely strong source of energy that had entered the universe, but whatever it was wasn't in the Kamar Taj, it was somewhere else.

"We shouldn't have left the Sanctum unguarded." Defender said. His voice was calm, but Stephen knew himself well enough to know that it was a facade. "You are the Master of the Sanctum. You should go. I'll stay here with Wong..." They were interrupted by Defender's phone ringing. He glared at Stephen "It's her." He put it on the speakerphone.

"Stephen..."

Defender sighed in relief upon hearing your voice "Baby, are you okay?"

You took a while to respond.

"Y/n, tell me you're okay" Stephen asked trying to control his nervousness.

"Can you guys go back to the Sanctum? Now. He's here."

Stephen felt a shiver go down his spine. A thousand of possibilities raced through his mind in the silent seconds between what you said and Defender's question.

"Who's there, Y/n?"

He thought of Nightmare, he thought of Mordo, he even thought of Loki, any of his enemies he'd already fought who might now want revenge by taking away the person he loved most in the world from him.

"It's you, Stephen. It’s another you."

Stephen didn't wait for Defender to answer, he took his sling ring and opened a portal straight to the Sanctum and went through it. Defender came right behind him.

You watched the amazement in the other Stranger's eyes when he saw Stephen and Defender walking through the portal. Stephen came towards you and Defender placed himself between you and the intruder. "Stay away from her."

He took a step back raising both hands in surrender and it was only then that you noticed that his fingertips were blackened by what you assumed was some kind of magic.

Stephen cupped your face in his shaking hands "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" You shook your head and Stephen pulled you into his arms with a sigh of relief and then he finally turned around facing his variant "How did you get here?"

"I brought myself here. My universe is dead. Completely erased from existence and I would be dead too if I hadn't escaped in time."

Defender tilted his head slightly to the side "What happened to your universe?"

The other Stephen sighed "Long story. I'm lucky to have escaped with my life. Now tell me, who should I talk to to ask for shelter in this universe?"

"That would be me" Wong said and you only realized that the portal was still open when he walked through it stepping into the Sanctum and closing it. "I am Wong and I am the Sorcerer Supreme of this Universe."

The two Stephens took a step back to make room for Wong to pass. Defender took the moment to pull you into his arms and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. You were shaking and he held you in his arms as if he wanted to protect you. Stephen also approached you, leaving Wong to handle the situation for the time being. He touched your face and held your hand firmly in his and you could tell they were shaking more than usual. You also noticed the other Strange's interested gaze on the three of you and then you turned away. You couldn't bear to look at him, to his clean-shaven face and his ocean blue eyes. He was a threat. You knew better than anyone that he was a threat.

...

Stephen thrusted against you moaning loud totally lost in his pleasure. He had you lying on your back on the mattress, his hands clasped in yours against the pillow and his face in the crook of your neck. He came inside you nice and warm and you loved the feeling but that night you weren't having any of that, your mind was elsewhere.

He kissed your lips and you struggled to smile at him but were relieved when it was over and he rolled onto his side. It wasn't that you didn't want him, you always wanted to make love to Stephen, but since the other Strange arrived things had been weird and you were anxious, always nervous and it was getting to you.

Stephen was silent, staring at the ceiling and then sighed, passing his hands over his face "What's wrong, sweetheart? You're somewhere else. Did I do something that upset you?"

You pulled the sheet up to cover your body "No. I'm sorry, I should have said I didn't feel like it, but I didn't want to upset you." You searched for his hand holding it tight in yours giving it a little squeeze "You didn't do anything wrong, it's just... him. He's been here for a week already."

Stephen pulled you close and you laid your head on his shoulder wrapping your arm around him. A satisfied sigh left your lips.

"Wong said he can stay." Stephen said sighing heavily. "Nobody asked my opinion on the matter, but what could I say? It's not like he has anywhere to go back."

You cupped his face "I'm sorry, I imagine how difficult this whole situation must be for you. First Defender and now..." You were silent for a minute and he didn't press you to speak.

"It’s just that… I don't like having him here" You finally said "He's not like Defender, there's something he's not telling us and his hands..."

Stephen squeezed you in his arms "I know. I can send him to Kamar Taj, at least he'll be away from you and I won’t be so worried every time I need to leave."

You didn't say anything.

"Defender thinks we should talk to him, try to understand what happened. And he also thinks that his place is here in the Sanctum, but I'm the one who decides that. I'm the Master of this Sanctum..."

"I don't talk to him" You said interrupting him. "I don't talk to him, but I'm still afraid of what this could mean for us. Tell me we're fine."

You could see the moment Stephen understood what you were talking about, the realization in his eyes.

"It would be easier for me if he wasn't here. I feel like I'm on 50 first dates, every day having to fall in love with the same man and Stephen I know I would, I will fall in love if I talk to him, if I have more time with him because he is you. Even if I am afraid of him."

Stephen stared at the ceiling rolling his lips as if he was thinking hard about what to say, but you couldn't keep your mouth shut, now that you started to speak the words kept coming out in a rush.

"I'm so sorry. I don't want this to ruin what we have. It's not like I'm talking about another man. It’s you, Stephen, it's always you. I love you too much, that's my problem..." You shut your mouth as you realized the words sounded shaky and your eyes was filled with tears. "It's just... so confusing."

You felt his arms tighten around you to keep you impossibly close "I know." Was all he said and then he kissed your lips softly. "We shouldn't have sex if you don't feel like it. You need to tell me. I won't be upset. Are we clear?"

You shook your head "I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. You did nothing wrong. You didn't say anything wrong. We're fine. It's going to be fine." He kissed you again and somehow that was exactly what you needed to hear.

...

The days passed slowly and unlike Defender, Supreme Strange, as you came to call him, had no intention of being helpful. He didn't spend afternoons tidying up the library or even volunteering to work on anything at Kamar Taj. He seemed busy enough being a complete narcissistic jerk who somehow was everywhere. You kept bumping into him in the hallways. If you were going to prepare tea at dawn he was already in the kitchen doing the same thing and trying hard to get you to talk to him, even if you didn't show any interest. When you got home from work, took a shower and went down to relax on the couch, he was there, exactly on the couch you liked to stay. He would sprawl out there reading his stupid magic books, making you sit in one of the armchairs facing him and when you did that you couldn't concentrate. There was something about him that was as inviting as it was intimidating, and it irritated you to feel that way.

"Can I help you, honey?" His baritone voice broke the silence, startling you. And the fucking pet name sounded so inappropriate.

He didn't even look up from the book. He was sitting on one leg, the other stretched out on the couch, his arm stretched out over the back it, a thick book in his hand. He was dressed in pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt, his hair was wet and he smelled like cologne.

"You're staring." He said again and you looked away from the book you were trying to read without success "No, I'm not."

He smirked "Yes you are. I can feel your eyes burning into my skin."

Why did he have to be so insufferable? Stephen was cocky, Defender was proud and stubborn, but Supreme was just plain annoying. "You're sitting on my couch." You said with no effort to hide your irritation. "Every day I come home from work and I come downstairs to read my book like I always do and you're sitting on my couch."

"Sorry, honey, but I didn't see your name on it" He replied now looking up from the book and looking at you. A wry smile on his lips. "But if that's the case, just ask me to leave." You did not answer.

"You know what I think? I think you like to come home from work and sit right where you are and have something nice to look at."

You felt your cheeks getting hot and from the smirk on his lips you figured he could see them turning pink. You sighed closing the book and throwing it on the coffee table "You are insufferable." You said pulling away and going up the stairs.

"Is that why you date two of me?" He replied loud enough for you to hear.

Your conversations with him didn't evolve much in the days that followed and he didn't give you the couch like you expected him to, but little by little you noticed that he spent more time outside the house, interested in getting to know the world he was inserted in and the distance made you understand that all that irritation couldn't just be because of your couch, or because he dropped cups on your coffee table or didn't put the box of cereal back in the cupboard. No, it was something else and you suspected that his provocations also carried other meanings. Somehow you always knew that on your part it was inevitable.

It was Friday night and you loved Friday nights when you could spend time with your Stephens without worrying that you would have to work the next morning. You came home from work, took a shower and came downstairs smelling food coming from the kitchen. When you got there you found Defender distracted cooking. It was a sight to see. You hugged him from behind and rose on tiptoe to kiss his shoulder. "What a handsome cook" You said and he hummed "Not as handsome as his girlfriend."

You smiled tightening the hug and leaning your face against his back sighing heavily "I'm so tired." He wiped his hands on his napkin and turned around hugging you properly then placed a lingering kiss on your forehead "That's why I'm cooking for you. Because you deserve it."

He kissed your lips softly "Tell me how your day was"

You shrugged "Same as usual, but more tiring. We had tight deadlines so we needed to rush through all the paperwork to get the orders out on time."

He cupped your face "And here at home, is everything okay?" He asked looking apprehensive and you sighed pulling away when he had to stir the pan so the vegetables wouldn't stick. He used brandy to flambe them and you watched him work. He made it so easy, it came naturally to him.

"He's getting on my nerves, as usual, but he didn't try to kill me or anything like that. At this point I doubt he's dangerous, he's just... everything else."

Defender turned off the heat and then opened the oven to take a look at the roast he was preparing. He closed it again and then turned to face you. "I think he likes you." He said suddenly and you stared at him feeling a weird deja vu feeling.

"What do you mean? All he does is tease me." You said forcing an unconvincing laugh. Stephen sighed "And I think you like him."

Damn it. Damn Defender and his watchful eyes. Was it possible that he was able to see something that even you hadn't yet realized for sure?

"I don't." You said, but it looked like you were trying to defend yourself and he rolled his lips like he was trying hard not to say too much. "Stephen, I don’t. It's just that he's everywhere and he's not like you, he's nosy and arrogant and he keeps hanging around the house teasing me and calling me honey and I swear I try to get rid of him but ...he's everywhere."

Defender sighed "He's leaving on a mission with the Avengers in a few days."

You frowned "Really? I thought he wasn't interested in helping. He's sprawled out on the couch all day reading like he doesn't want anything out of life."

"We asked him to find a specific spell to help with the mission. The doctor and I were busy and he was available. It took him some time, but he managed to find it and he offered to go in my place and I accepted. I know more than anyone else the feeling of wanting to be useful, of wanting to have a purpose and I think Supreme is looking for that purpose."

You were silent. Everything you thought about Supreme seems to be wrong now. Well, you still found him annoying, conceited and he still stole your couch every day, but now he was going on a mission and those missions were always so dangerous.

...

Stephen was in the library, it was late at night and he couldn't sleep. His insomnia had gotten a lot worse after Supreme arrived and he was still trying to digest everything that was happening. It was too much. It was more than any sane person could handle and yet he had to keep acting like everything was fine. It was what everyone expected of him. Wong, the masters of Kamar Taj, the press, Stark, the other Avengers.

He was trying, or at least he managed to fake it well. Even for you. Every night he would look into your eyes and claim that everything was fine, but he couldn't sleep and ended up there in the library sitting at that desk with books that dealt too shallowly about the multiverse and the dangers of interacting with visitors from other realities .

Every night Stephen tried to convince himself that the fear he felt for his own universe was what kept him awake at night and every night he knew that was a lie. He was worried about you. He was worried because he could see the way you couldn't take your eyes off Supreme every time he was around and he couldn't tell if Supreme had feelings for you but he wasn't sure he didn't and Stephen was dying afraid he'd have to give in again like he did with Defender because what would that say about him as a man? And if he didn't give in would he be risking the life he had with you?

Stephen was brought out of his reverie by the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Couldn't sleep too, doctor?" Defender asked coming closer and Stephen could see by his face that he too was having a discussion with his own mind.

"It's been a tough month." Stephen summarized and Defender nodded pointing to the chair in front of the desk where Stephen was sitting "May I?"

He nodded and Defender sat up.

"She told me a few weeks ago that she didn't want him here. Maybe we should have sent him away."

Defender thought for a moment "Do you think that would change anything?"

"What the fuck do I know?" Stephen let out a nervous sigh "She told me that if he stayed she would fall in love with him and I didn't do anything to stop that from happening. What does that say about me?"

"What does that say about me?" Defender repeated. "She's mine too, Stephen. You offered to share her with me almost a year ago and that means sharing the responsibilities too. Tonight she told me the problem is he's everywhere so maybe it's really our fault for letting him stay here at home while we were out there working and if I remember correctly you tried to convince me to send him to Kamar Taj and I said his place was here."

Stephen shook his head "You see things differently, Defender. You looked at him and saw yourself. You were allowed to stay and you wanted to return the favor. I should have said no, but I didn't."

Defender let out a heavy sigh.

"Perhaps you should have asked me what I thought about it" Supreme's voice was irritating as he walked out of the darkness in the hall and approached where Stephen and Defender sat by the light of a single lamp. "I'm sorry I couldn't sleep so I decided to look for something to read and I overheard part of your conversation. You know, I was never good at talking to myself, it always seemed like a stupid thing to do but now the whole thing gained a new light."

"Would you have gone? To the Kamar Taj?" Defender asked.

Supreme crossed his arms leaning against one of the bookshelves and crossing his feet "I was running away from the destruction of my own universe. I would have gone anywhere."

"Would you go now? If we asked." Stephen asked and Supreme shook his head "Is she that bothered by me?"

"This has nothing to do with her" Stephen said through gritted teeth.

"This has everything to do with her" Supreme snapped and then nodded in agreement "I would. If you guys told me to go. I'm not here to fight anyone. Is that what you want? For me to leave? That will make you happy?"

Defender glared at Stephen shaking his head "It's not about what we want anymore." He said.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Supreme asked and Stephen ran his hands over his face nervously.

Supreme came over and pulled up a chair and sat down "Do any of you have a cigarette?"

Defender stared at him in surprise "What? No. We don't smoke."

He chuckled dryly "Yeah, neither have I. For almost 8 years now. But my universe was destroyed and all the people I knew are dead. I'm in another universe talking to two other variants of mine and besides I am almost sure I might be falling in love with your girl, so... yeah, I need a fucking cigarette."

Stephen stared at him for a long minute "If you try anything with her, I'm going to fucking kill you, do you understand?"

Supreme raised both hands in surrender "I didn’t do it and I won’t. Unless she shows she wants me too.”

Defender slammed his hand on the table getting up "She's right about you, you're insufferable." He said and then left.

...

You came home from work on Monday afternoon with an excruciating headache. You knew it was your fault for having gone all day without eating so after taking a shower and getting dressed comfortably you went downstairs determined to prepare something to eat. When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you glanced quickly at the couch where you expected to find Supreme absorbed in his reading, but he was not there. You went to the kitchen wondering if he had already left on his mission and then you found him sitting at the table with his chin resting on his hand while reading something on a laptop.

You rolled your lips considering turning back, but decided to act like an adult. After all, you couldn't keep running from him inside your own home. "Hey..."

He looked away from the screen, seeming to notice only at that moment that you were there. "I'm not on your precious couch as you can see."

You shrugged "Whatever. What are you doing?" You went to the cupboard and got a bag of bread and put it on the counter.

"Trying to catch up to a few things from your universe before heading out on a mission tomorrow. Not everything is the same, you know."

You nodded "Have you met Tony Stark?"

Supreme shook his head "Nice guy"

You stopped in front of the fridge picking up ingredients to prepare a sandwich and then you dedicated yourself to washing some lettuce leaves and cutting some slices of tomato.

"I'm going to make a sandwich, want one?" You asked turning to look at him. He looked surprised "No, thanks."

You shrugged going back to your work "It's not like you've eaten all day. The kitchen is just the way I left it yesterday."

"Careful, it might seem like you care about me."

You sighed finishing preparing your food. You cut the sandwich and put the halves on a plate and then went to the table and sat down across from him. "I don't want you to starve now that you're starting to be useful."

He smirked "Ouch, you treat the two Stephens that way too? Does it really work for them?"

You took a bite of the sandwich and chewed slowly "They're not like you."

He closed the laptop and clasped his hands together "And how am I?"

"Annoying." You answered without being intimidated. You were past the point of being intimidated by him, now you felt something else, a bit of irritation, a bit of curiosity.

"Yeah, you already said that. I'm sure you can think of other things, honey. Tell me, what do you find so different about me."

The pet name. You hated that pet name and at the same time your body seemed to respond to it every time he called you that.

"You have no beard. No goatee. That's different."

"A good different?" He asked with a smirk and you shrugged.

"Do you want me to grow a beard?"

You shook your head "I don't want you to do anything. It's none of my business."

"No, but now I'm curious. If it were any of your business. Would you want to?"

You took another bite of your sandwich and he waited for your answer.

"No. I like it the way it is. Different and handsome."

The compliment seemed to catch him off guard. "You think I'm handsome?"

You shrugged like it was no big deal "Do you think I would be in a relationship with two of you if I didn't think you were handsome?"

He chuckled "Fair enough. Are you going to tell me how you got into this mess?" He asked casually and then took the other half of your sandwich that was on the plate. He gave a bite. You didn't even bother to complain.

"Well, Stephen Strange is an attractive man, intelligent, sometimes funny, affectionate and he fucks really good. It's kind of hard not to fall in love with him."

He stared at you intently, his eyes seemed to darken "Is that why you want me to leave? Because you are afraid of falling in love with me?"

That caught you off guard. He took another bite of the sandwich and waited for you to answer.

"I do not know what you're talking about."

"No? I had a word with your Stephens and they seemed inclined to send me away to Kamar Taj. Is that what you want?" He looked at you intently, the blue eyes seemed to see inside you.

"It was what I wanted when you arrived. I'm not so sure anymore."

He nodded taking one last bite and then got up and took the plate off the table and placed it in the sink. He wiped his hands on the napkin and then turned to face you, both hands resting on the counter behind him, "You must decide what you want. I don't want to be where people don't want me. Contrary to what you think, at least at Kamar Taj I can be of service."

You did not answer. The idea of him leaving suddenly seemed absurd to you. He was supposed to stay in the Sanctum. That was his home. He would be alone at the Kamar Taj.

"Now if you want me to stay, you'll have to start treating me a lot better, honey."

That made you roll your eyes "And how exactly do you want to be treated?"

"Let's start by stopping the eye rolling. I don't like that. And then we can discuss the agreement that exists between the three of you. I'd like to be a part of it."

You were surprised by his boldness.

"What makes you think I'm interested?"

He shook his head "Like I said, you need to make up your mind."

...

Supreme's mission lasted more than just a few days. It had been almost two weeks and you found yourself thinking about how you would feel if he didn't come back. The idea was too scary. You imagined your fellow Avengers coming back and saying something had happened, that he was dead. It was almost a physical pain.

You wonder if you'd be expected to cry or would it be weird if you did? What the fuck people expected you to do?

When they got back, Supreme stayed at the Kamar Taj and Defender claimed that Wong had asked him to help with some errands. Stephen didn't even bother trying to explain. It was clear to you that the two Stephens were defending their territory and pushing Supreme away from the Sanctum for good. The idea that previously seemed like the best decision to make now seemed authoritarian, meaningless and even cruel. Still, you didn't say anything. What could you say? Supreme was right, you needed to decide what you wanted.

You were so lost in your own thoughts that you didn't even notice when it was time to leave work. Your boss knocked on the door and warned you. You grabbed your purse and car keys and left. Your head was aching and the traffic didn't helped to easy the pain.

When you finally got home you were too tired to even think about going upstairs to your room so you put your purse and keys on the counter, kicked off your shoes and sat down in the armchair by the fireplace, but staring at the empty couch in front of you didn't help you feel better, quite the opposite. You missed him. As unbelievable as it might seem, it was true. You missed his ill-timed comments, the teasing, the smirks, basically everything. You wanted him back, you needed him back.

You moved your fingers on your temples feeling that the headache was getting worse so you got up, took a pill from your bag and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea.

You were standing there in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to go off tapping the floor with your toe and you were barely aware of Stephen's presence until he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your neck, his goatee making your skin crawl. "May I have some tea?"

You wrapped your arms around his "Of course." You turned to kiss him softly, but he cupped the back of your neck, deepening the kiss with a need that surprised you.

He released you when he realized you weren't in the same mood as him, but he covered it up as well as ever.

"How was in the work?"

You smiled "Fine." You took your hand to your temple.

"What's wrong?" He asked worriedly replacing your hand with his. He held your head in both hands.

"Nothing, just a headache. A very painful headache."

He nodded, his thumbs moving in circles on your temples.

"Does it help?"

You shook your head no and squinted your eyes "It's different this time, stronger."

He pressed his thumb to the middle of your forehead "Does it hurt here?"

You nodded.

"Are your eyes sensitive to light?"

You hadn't noticed until he mentioned it, but you were bothered by kitchen lights "Yes."

"It's not a headache, sweetheart. It's a migraine. Never had one before, hm?"

The kettle whistled and you busied yourself making two cups of tea for yourselves.

"They are usually caused by stress, insomnia and prolonged fasting. In addition to genetic factors"

You handed him the cup and swallowed your pill taking a sip of tea right after. "I really didn't need to have one right now."

He took a sip of tea "You're stressed, you've barely been sleeping, you haven't been eating properly... Y/n, you need to talk to me.

You shook your head "Just tell me this pain will pass soon."

He sighed "In a few hours probably."

"Great."

The two took a sip in silence. There was something between you. You could feel it, he could feel it, and it was killing you.

"Stephen..."

He waited for what you had to say, but something in his eyes said he already knew what it was.

"Supreme needs to come back home. He belongs here and not at Kamar Taj."

"You said you wanted him gone."

You sighed "That was before..." You stopped before saying more than you should. "His place is here." You repeated.

He took a long drink of his tea and then shook his head "Do you miss him?"

"Stephen, this has nothing to do with me."

He chuckled dryly "Of course it has. It's all about you, Y/n"

You swallow thickly. "Ask what you really want to know then, Stephen. No more mincing words."

He looked away for a second and then sighed looking deep into your eyes "Do you love him?"

You reached out to touch his hand and held it tight in yours "I don't know. But I have feelings for him and I miss him here."

Stephen nodded "What do you want me to do? I'm lost here, Y/n. Do you want me to make a deal with him like I did with Defender? Do you want us to share you with him?"

You rolled your lips. That was what you wanted, but you feared the price was too high. "I don't know. All I know is that I don't want to lose you, Stephen."

He placed the cup on the counter and took a step towards you pinning you against the counter and then cupped your face in his hands "You will never lose me, sweetheart. I love you so much... my love for you is the only thing that helps me deal with all this madness. Not just for me, but because I know that any version of me will love you just as much. How can I fight this?"

You smiled shyly "I don't want to fight anymore. If there's one thing I know it's that I'll always want you, I want each one of you because I love you Stephen. I love you too much."

"I know. I love you too, sweetheart, but do you have any idea how hard this is for me?"

You nodded "I'm sorry."

He placed a kiss on your forehead and took the cup from the counter and walked away pulling a chair and sat down.

"You understand that it's not just me now, don't you? It's not enough that I agree to bring Supreme back, you need to ask Defender."

You nodded pulling up a chair and sitting down too "I know, but I couldn't ask him before talking to you first."

...

Defender sat in his small office at the Kamar Taj and gestured for Supreme to sit down as well. There were issues to be dealt with and he was apparently the best person to handle the situation. He was certainly more patient than the other Stephen, but to be fair, all the patience in the world didn't seem to be enough to deal with Supreme Strange.

Supreme stared at him for a long moment, but then he pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Stephen asked me to talk to you first..."

"She made up her mind then, she wants me too. It must have been hard for him to accept."

Defender managed not to roll his eyes "I can't imagine why he thought it wouldn't be a good idea for you both to talk now."

Supreme clasped his hands in his lap "I'm all ears."

"We have rules. Very strict rules. Most of them were created by Y/n and Stephen and I agree. We follow them and they work. That's the key to making this relationship work."

Supreme nodded. "Okay. And what are those rules?"

Defender sighed "She'll explain everything to you when you get back home, but that's not the point. What he needs..." Defender ran a hand over his face "What I need is for you to give us your word that you will abide by the rules even if you don't like them."

"Even if I don't like them? How can I promise that I'll follow rules I don't know about?"

Defender wanted to punch him in the face. Even though he wasn't a violent man, he wanted to punch Supreme in the face. However, he just took a deep breath and decided to be honest.

"Do you love her?" He asked dryly and Supreme stared at him in surprise.

"I loved her before I even met her. You told me you saw her in your dreams once or twice? I saw her every night. With him. I spent two years of my life wanting to be him, wanting to have what he had. So when he offered the chance to have her I didn't think for a second. I accepted the rules before they were even made and followed them strictly and we created a good life here, together, the three of us."

Supreme shifted in his chair "I don't know if I understand where you're going with this..."

"I need to know that we're not risking the life we have on a caprice, because of some kind of stupid competition you might think exists between the three of us or because you think you have some right to it just because you're one of us."

Defender stared at him, waiting for an answer.

Supreme nodded "It's not like that at all. I can't say it's love because I've never felt something like that before. You know, we're not like that. I had Christine, you..."

Defender shook his head "I had Christine too"

"But it's not the same. I always hoped it would become something else, but it never did."

"Because it wasn't meant to be. Christine never loved us, we never loved her, not really."

Defender remembered very well his relationship with Christine Palmer and how he blamed himself for screwing up after the accident. It took a long time to understand.

"I feel like I can do this right..." Supreme said "...at least this time... Yes, I think I love her."

Defender sighed getting up, "Fine. So give me your word and we can get this over with.”

Supreme stood up "Okay. You have my word."

The two shook hands and Defender opened a portal to the Sanctum.

"I'll be teaching tomorrow until 2pm. Stephen will attend a conference at Avengers Tower and then head straight to Kamar Taj. She'll be alone in the Sanctum."

Supreme nodded "Thank you, Defender."

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

MULTIPLE STEPHENS MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

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nerdieforpedro · 2 months

Text

Friends look out for friends right?

Chapter Two of Come live with me Angel Series

Benny Miller x Diana (plus size OFC)

This fic is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: 1908

Summary: Benny recalls how he and Diana first met. Living arrangements are discussed in addition to why Benny ended up in jail last night.

Warning: questionable karaoke choices, a few thots, Benny cooking, more pining, reference to a fight and jail

Notes: A slow burn with Friends to lovers. I enjoy writing them. I need to fit in tacos for @musings-of-a-rose just because. She knows why. 🤣

Main Masterlist/ Benny Miller Masterlist/ Come away with me Angel Series

Benny thought back to when he first met Diana while he cooked breakfast the next morning:

Six months ago at the Saucy Cantina. It was karaoke night and none of the guys would sing with him. He even chose ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ one that the four of them would know, but none of them would sing with him. He wasn’t sure if it was just the three beers he had but he wanted to belt out a tune. There were three women near the sing book when he walked over, two of them were looking at a Beyonce song - she doesn’t have a bad one so that’s a safe choice. But the third woman who’s dark hair touched passed her shoulders was studying a page intently. He tapped her shoulder and she looked up, her honey brown eyes stared at him and he watched her baby pink lips move as she spoke, “Yes, did you wanna see the book?” Benny shook his head and asked what song she was thinking of doing. “You’ll laugh, but I was thinking of ‘Rich Girl’ or ‘Diamonds.’” She said, setting her finger on each song.

“Those two are pretty different. I was thinking of a song too but my brothers over there are buzzkills and don’t wanna join me.” He grinned, his eyes a little glassy from the beer. She chuckled and nodded, explaining that she had been outvoted and it looked like her and her friends were going to be singing Beyonce tonight.

“We don’t have to sing what they want to you know. I’ll sing ‘Rich Girl’ with you if you’ll sing ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ with me, Angel.” He offered a hand outstretched as he hopped up on stage. Fish tapped Pope and Will, pointing toward the small stage at the back of the bar. The woman who he would later come to know as Diana took his hand and hopped up on stage with him. Benny remembered that he didn’t let go of her hand the entire time on the stage as they sang the Hall and Oats song and danced, swaying their hips and stomping their feet in tune with the music. It earned them a standing ovation and they got a second when they finally sang ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ in which there were some squeals because neither of them could hit those notes and they may have had a round of shots in between numbers. Benny invited all three girls over to the table and kept Angel as he called her, next to him as they chatted and drank. Will and Fish noticed how Benny kept holding onto her hand, like she might bolt, but she didn’t seem to mind. When the girls went to the bathroom, they teased him about getting a girlfriend of karaoke. Benny told them to shut it and that she was just really nice, but he knew then he wouldn’t be alright with not knowing her name and noting seeing her again.

Over the course of the night, he learned her name Diana and she told him his, Benjamin, but to please call him Benny, no one calls him his full name. They exchanged phone numbers and he made sure to text her to check if she got home okay and to see if she wanted lunch. One would have thought that he’s asked her out on a date but it wasn’t, just brunch. It was fun and no pressure. It helped a lot that Benny was a goofball and that Diana liked telling bad jokes. It’s been great for the last six months, towing the line between friends and something more and easy, so very easy.

This morning, Diana woke up and had a headache. What should she do? Moving in with her mother would be the more reasonable of the two options, but could she stand living with the woman again? Especially now that she was being effectively kicked out because her roommate found a man and she hadn’t.

Benny was up off the couch and had folded the blanket. He was making some eggs and toast when he saw Diana walk out in a loose black tank top and pink shorts that bunched between her legs from her thighs rubbing together. Her eyes were blurry and she rubbed them to adjust to the bright light. They went wide when she saw Benny in her kitchen, shirtless in his jeans and no socks, his hair was down and coasting along the back of his neck. She sometimes forgets how tall and broad he is. No…she knows. She tried to forget, because if she thinks about it, she do that before bed again.

“What the hell Benny..?”

“Damn Diana, that’s not what I expected. I thought I’d at least get a ‘thanks’ or a ‘good morning’, no hospitality.” He turned with a wide grin, holding a spatula in one hand. Diana cleared her throat and took a few steps forward on the cold floor to make sure she wasn’t having another dream about the younger Miller again. It turned out she was not and he really was making her breakfast in her apartment.

“I-I didn’t expect you to be making breakfast. Thank you. I was just surprised. I didn’t think you could cook.” Diana walked over and leaned on the counter, her breasts were pushed together from her crossed arms as she watched him scrambling eggs in her frying pan. “Did you want me to start some bacon or toast?” She asked, Benny turned to answer her but was greeted by her ample cleavage that was exposed. Toward the scoop of her tank top, it looked like he might just be able to see the cusp of something. He’s not supposed to be thinking about that they’re friends. Benny wonders from time to time and feels guilty because of how close he keeps Diana. He swallowed the spit that had gathered in his mouth and nodded.

“Sure, make both. I’ll eat what you don’t. You like onions and peppers in your eggs right?” Benny asked, drizzling some on half of the eggs, Diana agreed and took out the bread and bacon to get started. The bacon she put between two paper towels and microwaved it while she plugged up the toaster to start on the bread.

“Benny, you take your toast like your hair?” She joked, he roared with laughed as he remembered first telling Diana that’s how he liked all his bread that wasn’t on a sandwich. He was finishing up the eggs while she made six pieces of toast and eight pieces of bacon. It was a lot of food, but after they sat down and split it up, Benny and Diana scarfed all of it down along with two glasses of water each. They sat at the table relaxing because they were both full. Diana decided to ask first.

“Benny, are you going to tell me why you were arrested last night? You told me you hadn’t had any issues with the law for a couple years. There had to be-”

“You really wanna know Angel? Then if I tell you, you need to move in with me.” Diana opened her mouth to protest but Benny held up his hand. “You’re gonna say no, but you know you and your mom are like oil and water. Also you can pay me rent if it makes you feel better. I’d rather you didn’t though. You’re my friend.”

You’re my friend.

Diana realized that the only one stressing about being in close quarters with Benny was her. It would be the better and cheaper choice. She’d just have to keep her wits about her and gawk at him…too much.

“Fine Benny, I’ll move in with you. I haven’t found another place besides my mom’s anyway. Now will you tell me why I had to get you from county last night?”

“You know that bar we go to often, right? I was drinking after a fight. May have lost, not a big deal. Point is, we were laughing and joking it was all good.” Benny leaned forward with both elbows on the table, his muscles taut. Diana wants to tell him to sit back or throw a blanket on so she won’t stare.

“I know the bar, yes.” She tilts her head, confused about where this is going. “If things were good, why were you in jail?”

“That bastard said, anyway. He said something he shouldn’t have. I showed him he should keep his mouth shut.” Benny shook his head and stood up from the table taking both plates and silverware over to the sink. Diana sighed following him and had her hands on her hips.

“Benjamin Miller tell me what he said. Now.” Her lips pressed together, and he knew her bottom lip had likely poked out. “Was it really that serious to where you needed to injure three men? I mean I’ve heard all sorts of things said-“

“I don’t care what you might have heard in the past but no one’s going to talk about you like that! Not while I’m breathing.” Turning toward her, his face was red as he chewed on his cheek. “He asked me how you were in bed because he was sure you were enthusiastic and loud since you sing so well. I told him to shut the fuck up and he followed it up with…it doesn’t matter. I should have made it so his jaw would be wired shut.” Benny tossed the dirty spatula in the sink and started running water in a large bowel, pouring in some soap to start washing. “You dry Diana.”

“Anything any drunk idiot says you shouldn’t listen to Benny. He’s an asshole. Don’t go to jail again. He and no other asshole is worth it.” Diana took the spatula and two forks to dry and put them to the side to put away.

“I’m not letting some douchebag think it’s fine to talk about you any kind of way Di, I’m not. I’ll try and stay out of jail. I can’t promise not to fight for you.” Washing the two plates, Benny handed them to Diana and watched as she bumped the drawer closed with her hip and leaned on her tip-toes to put away the plates after drying them. He found himself laughing to which she whipped the dishtowel at him.

“If I move in with you, you can’t be going back to jail Benny. I’m serious.”

“I am too.” Diana knows how serious he is which is a blessing and a curse. There’s always assholes that will say all sorts of things. Thankfully Benny was alright but what happens if he gets a longer sentence. Maybe he somehow thinks he won’t. They’re going to have to agree to disagree. “One other thing though Angel,”

“What now Benny? You gonna fight the cabinet for being too tall for me?”

“No. We need to go get my jeep from the bar. Then we can start moving your stuff today.” Whipping his hands on his jeans, he walks over to the couch and gets his shirt and slips it on. “Grab your keys.”

“I don’t leave the house in my sleep clothes Benny. Give me five minutes.” Rolling his eyes, he watches Diana make her way into the bedroom and close her door to get dressed. She may have fussed at him, but she was still moving in.

Goal accomplished

Notes on Benny’s guitar 🎸: @tinytinymenace @laurfilijames @rhoorl @musings-of-a-rose @megamindsecretlair @gwendibleywrites

#fanfiction #benny miller x plus size reader #benny miller #benny miller x ofc #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier #Nerdie fic

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bladerbunny · 1 month

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A Moment With Kai

Summary: Cuddling and cute talk with Kai Pairing: Kai Hiwatari x Reader Warnings: None Wordcount: 846 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood out from the crowd because unlike all the others, you had no interest in him. The fans screaming his name, the girls coming up and twirling their hair and giggling as they ask for an autograph, the occasional awkward stalking and obsessive following as he went from city to city. You were never a part of any of that. It was just you and your book behind the service counter of that small cafe that he quietly slipped into one afternoon to avoid yet another crowd of fans that spotted him on the street and had been hunting him down for three blocks to talk to him about his latest bey battle when all he wanted was 5 minutes to gather his thoughts.

“Can I help you?” You had asked, looking up from the page you had been reading. The smile was all it took to have him sit down, order a large black coffee, and spend the rest of the afternoon listening to you ramble on and on about the series you were reading, how lame your bookclub was when it came to selecting something everyone would like, your 2 cats and their silly antics, what your favorite tea was, and how you just couldn’t understand the plot of this one gangster film from the 1940s that your best friend insists was a cinematic masterpiece. Kai didn’t want to leave that moment, or you for that matter.

So here the two of you were, nearly two years later in one another's arms as you celebrate a successful anniversary, having gone out to dinner with a few friends followed by a quiet night together at home to end it.

“I’m really happy that Tyson and Hilary are finally together.” You hum, absentmindedly tracing circles along Kai’s chest as you lay in bed together. “It's really nice to have another couple to go out with on double dates now!” you add excitedly.

Kai snorts.“You mean you actually enjoy spending time with Tyson?” He asks, glancing down at you.”He doesn’t annoy you or anything?”

“No, not at all.” You smile, shaking your head slightly as you prop yourself up slightly to look at him. “I like all of your friends! They are always so nice and welcoming to me, especially Tyson.” You laugh, noticing Kai’s slight grimace.”You should really appreciate it more, you know. You have great friends Kai.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbles, tightening his grip on you slightly. “When they aren’t being annoying or trying to tease me or bothering me in every free moment of peace I have.” He sighs.

You lean forward, planting a small kiss on the tip of his nose. “I think you just need to lighten up a bit.” You tease, nuzzling your nose into his softly.

Kai rolls his eyes, scooting away from you slightly. “That’s just your opinion.” he grumbles, face becoming slightly flushed.

“Oh please,” You giggle, kissing the tip of his nose once more. “You are just mad because I am right and you know it.”

“Whatever you say, babe.” Kai sighs in defeat, pulling you closer. “You know you really shouldn’t kiss me too much. You will end up spoiling me.”

“You are already spoiled.” You hum, kissing him a third time.

"Well, you're the one doing the spoiling…" He replies, a small smirk appearing on his lips as he continues."You're too affectionate, you know that?"

"Are you saying you don't like my kisses?" you pull back, pretending to be offended at his remark. “How dare you! I give those to you in good faith, Mister Hiwatari.”

"I'm not saying that I don't like your kisses. But maybe there is such a thing as too much for a guy like me?”

“So what you are saying is you never want me to kiss you again?” She huffs, rolling over as she crosses her arms. “Okay, got it!”

“Oh stop being so childish.” Kai rolls his eyes, trying to pull you back into his arms but you don’t budge. “Fine! I'll take it back.” He sighs, too tired to play. "Alright, fine, I'll let you kiss me as much as you want then. Just please come back over here so we can get to slee-OOF!”

Kai is cut off by you immediately pouncing back onto him. “That’s better!” You giggle, peppering him with kisses all over his cheeks. “I knew you would let me win. I always do.”

He can’t help but become flustered and grunt as you bounce on him. “Yeah, yeah.” He growls, taking every kiss you give him without complaint. “And you say I am the spoiled one.”

You sigh, resting your head on his chest once more.“I never said I wasn’t spoiled too.” You laugh, planting one more small kiss on his cheek before settling into his arms. “I love you.” You whisper quietly, smiling to yourself as you feel him settle.

“I love you too.” Kai sighs, pressing his lips to your forehead gently.

#kai hiwatari x reader #kai x reader #kai hiwatari #kai beyblade #beyblade fanfic #beyblade

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drytacomeat · 3 months

Text

𝐀 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

My first series begins! It was actually inspired by a random prompt generator. I plan to make it 3 parts, and probably have smut. Sorry the header is ugly kinda. I’ll work on that.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Plus Size Black! Reader

Synopsis: Steve is suddenly unarmored by Y/n, and he is determined to get her to give him a chance.

3.9k words

You couldn’t say you were one of them yourself, but today you did have ulterior motives. You actually needed to study for the third history exam this week. Your teacher was insane to be quite frank.

Despite that, the library was pretty packed with buzzing and gossiping girls. It was sweet you thought.

They didn’t really think the same about you, that was common knowledge.

You were about the only girl here who did not wear cute skirts and flattering sweaters. There also were not many bigger girls at this school. Layering being black, fat, and not your average styled girl was a recipe for being an outcast.

You tried your best though, and you figured the people that truly mattered around here liked you. You were a good person who did good things. You also gave discounts to any parents who had kids also in high school for your babysitting services.

Some of those parents really needed to be cut some slack, and their kids would come to you for thanks. You’d built quite the reputation, so, no, you weren’t bothered much despite odds being against you in little Hawkins.

You weren’t noticed much either though, at least not until this beautiful Spring day that you decided to sit by the window of the library so you could watch the surroundings.

“Hey, do you work here by any chance?” Steve Harrington asked you with a look of desperation. He completely yanked you out of your own daydream.

You couldn’t help but scrunch your face because what the actual fuck?

“No, I’m a student here…we have been in school together since kindergarten. I’m in the same history class as you,” you shook your head and looked back down to your book. You wished you would have took the extra 2 minutes to look for your Walkman this morning.

“Oh, I‘ve—um—never seen you around here before,” his eyebrows shot up and his lips curled inwards like he was actually trying to think.

“Probably just weren’t looking for me,” you responded lowly.

He just shrugged.

“Well, you’re the only one over here, so maybe you could help me out?” he somewhat smiled.

“Depends on what you need “King Steve”,” you said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Don’t—whatever. Can you just tell me where the history books are?”

You pointed towards the back of the library, and to your luck, he didn’t ask for more. He would have to search more, but by the time he would come back to the table for further instruction, you would be gone.

You quickly grabbed your items and walked away. So much for studying.

As you began to make it near the library exit, you questioned as to how he could just not know you? The school was not big enough for that honestly. You didn’t necessarily stick out aside from the obvious because you were relatively but still.

Now, you were usually never one to go by rumors as you had heard so many about yourself that were just blatant lies, but there were a lot about Steve. Some of those rumors were even proven to be true by one of your closest friends who happened to actually date him, Nancy Wheeler. Still, maybe “King Steve” was just all caught up in his mousse slicked head. Maybe he was just an asshole.

Just as you walked out the double doors, you bumped into dickhead Tommy Hagen and his girl, Carol.

“Watch where you’re going fat-ass,” he spat, and Carol threw her shoulder in such a bitchy way that it made you inwardly cringe.

As usual, you did not respond. You just went on about your day.

•••

Steve had been racking his mind that whole day. How could he not have known you? If you had been in school together since kindergarten, there was no way he just could not know you. You weren’t just the typical Indy girl. No, you dressed differently, and in his opinion, you looked quite different, as well. Not that he saw anything wrong with that.

He had seen your interaction with Tommy and Carol that day and cringed a little himself. You had definitely been a target of the two at least once before then, so that made him really wonder as to how he never noticed you before. Well, he never really noticed any of the people Tommy and Carol bothered because they bothered everybody really.

He tried not to think of it too much really. Him getting his ass handed to him almost every time he fought could be to blame for this memory clog.

It’s just that after that moment, he started to see you everywhere now.

He saw you in the cafeteria, in the school parking lot, at the vending machine, at the water fountains immediately after lunch. He saw you walk into your classes (he could probably wring your schedule out if he tried hard enough now), and he even saw you in the gym after school. He didn’t think you played any sports. Not necessarily because of how you looked, but because other people knew how you looked. There was no doubt you would experience mistreatment, unless you were absolutely perfect at whatever you did.

He had been seeing you so much the past two weeks. He would think you were doing it on purpose, but you seemed to show no interest in him when he asked for help in the library. He also only saw you doing absolutely normal things around school as well and not paying attention to him whatsoever.

Over the time, he started to take notice to your wardrobe. You never wore bright colors. Every color you wore was muted and…dull. You also never wore skirts. Ever. It was spring, and you wore no skirts. What kind of Hawkins girl are you? He figured you accessorized well enough, even though he knew nothing about that sort of thing.

He always found his eyes on you all of a sudden, and he didn’t know why. You were nothing like any girl he was ever involved with.

•••

If he hadn’t agreed to taking this scrunchy little kid to his little middle school dance, he might have gotten over this abrupt infatuation sooner than later.

“Sorry, Steve. I left my bike here earlier because my mom picked me up, and I just don’t want it to get stolen or anything,” Dustin explained as they both pulled into the Wheeler residence.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not too out of the way,” Steve shrugged.

Dustin quickly scrambled out of the car to go after his bike.

As someone made their way out of the front door, he averted his attention from the boy.

It…it was you! What the actual fuck were you doing here? And you had on a dress! It was a little maroon number with black lace trimmings around it. He had never seen any girl wear a dress like that, but then again, he didn’t pay attention to what they were wearing for too long.

You had your hair done up into some sort of braids that he was sure you did not have in earlier, and you had on makeup. Simple look, but makeup nonetheless.

You looked really fucking pretty, and Steve was losing his mind.

Steve’s eyes lingered maybe a little longer than they should have until Dustin jumped back into the car.

“Sorry that took so long. Come on, Steve. You have to floor it because I cannot be late!” Dustin panicked.

Steve nodded and reversed the car, still looking in your direction. Nancy was following behind you now.

No way. Were you friends with Nancy this whole time?

You were absolutely confusing his mind.

He emptied his head as he watched Dustin enter the gym after near drowning himself in cologne.

Steve could not believe that he was here in this moment. Driving a little scraggly kid around and actually enjoying it. He was really starting to grow fond of the little guy. A lot of things in his life was just starting to scramble around.

•••

The day after those kids’ little dance, Dustin was absolutely talking Steve’s ear off.

“—and then this girl danced with me!” Dustin spoke causing Steve to completely zone in.

“What? A girl danced with you, Henderson?” Steve’s eyebrows raised, “I told you man!”

Dustin cheesed widely.

“Yeah, she was-actually you might know her! She’s in high school!” he faced Steve excitedly.

“High school?” Steve now raised his brows more.

“Yes! High school, Steve! She babysits for the Wheeler’s so I kind of know her, but that does not change the fact that I looked like the coolest motherfucker there!” he yelled.

“Hey, watch it,” Steve said, sternly eying the boy. Dustin just sat there staring Steve down for a second before they both burst out laughing.

“Okay, well, there’s a lot of girls in high school, Henderson. What’s she look like?” Steve asked.

“Uhm, probably a few inches shorter than you. She’s…well…she’s black, and she’s just really pretty. She had her hair in these braids and stuff,” he rambled while moving around more before he accidentally spilled his can of soda.

“Aw, fuck, Henderson!” Steve yelled quickly reaching down to grab the can.

“Sorry,” Dustin cowered.

Steve just threw down some napkins he so conveniently had on his dashboard into the mess. He made sure to floor it too.

“Sorry about your car, Steve,” Dustin frowned as they pulled up to his house now, “I get my allowance on Monday! I can help pay for cleaning or something maybe.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Steve rolled his eyes and shooed Dustin sassily.

Dustin hopped out quickly, and Steve was about to drive off until he recalled the conversation he had before this. He wanted to know what high school girl now got the privilege of being the middle school gossip topic for the next week or so.

“Henderson!” he yelled out, “What was the name of that girl that graced you with a little dance?”

“Oh! Uh, Y/n!”

•••

Steve actually scraped his brain that entire weekend. He did not know anyone who went by the name Y/n, but it had sounded familiar.

He felt like his mind was actually leaving him at this point.

•••

That next day at school, Steve had been watching you the whole day, yet again. You were always just around, and nothing was clicking in his poor little mind.

As he noticed you more, he noticed that everyone seemed to know you. You interacted with a huge variety of people. Despite your size, which is something most of the kids here are super petty and judgmental about, no one ever really bothered you, except for Tommy and Carol.

He found that strange.

Speaking of, he sat in the school cafeteria berating Tommy about not eating his meatloaf and how he should’ve gave it to him.

Once he looked away from his tray, he noticed you were standing in front of his table, running a conversation with the cheerleaders. You talked to them effortlessly, and it looked as if you all were friends.

He couldn’t help but berate himself for having the mentality that it’s a shock people treat you kindly.

As he sulked on his poor judgement. Carol stood up and apparently bumped into you. You quickly turned around to apologize as she was turning around as well.

This caused you to drop the vanilla pudding cup in your hand to the floor. Steve’s brows jumped as he inspected the situation.

You were frantically apologizing as Carol was dramatically gasping.

“You bitch!” she yelled and notified the entire cafeteria. Everyone’s attention was on you now, and you were cringing. So was Steve. This wasn’t unusual of Carol. She was a real piece of work.

What was unusual, though, was that Carol raised her hand to you and slapped you right across the face.

Carol was usually all bark, no bite. Steve’s jaw dropped, and Hagen had a big grin on his face. He looked over at his “friend” and scoffed. His eyes went back to you, and you seemed as though you just processed the slap as your hand went up to your cheek. Carol turned back to look at Hagen who was still grinning widely. Almost as if he was…proud of Carol.

You scoffed and reached down to pick the pudding up off of the floor. Steve figured you would just walk away, but you dipped your hand into the pudding. Carol was taken off guard when you smeared your pudding soaked hand across the top of her red hair.

Steve couldn’t help but crack a smile as you flung the pudding from your hand as Carol looked distraught.

His eyes caught yours for a split second. His face ran a little hot, and he quickly looked down. You had quite the balls.

Everybody knew Carol was a piece of shit, but nobody ever did anything about it.

“I’ll kill you, Y/n!” Carol yelled as Tommy came to her aid quickly with a napkin.

You stormed out of the cafeteria as Tommy was trying to help Carol. She was only slapping his hand away and running off in a different direction.

Meanwhile, Steve’s eyes were bulging out of his head. You were Y/n! It was all clicking now, and Steve was cursing himself for being such a dumbass.

You were the girl to dance with Dustin. The girl he could not stop talking about. Hell, after hearing all the great things Dustin said about you, Steve even started to like you a little bit, not even knowing it was you.

Now that he put a name to face, he couldn’t help but like you a little bit more. He knew nothing about you, though.

He would have to change that.

•••

Steve was pulling Henderson up to the Wheeler’s house. They were supposed to be playing their little nerd game that had absolutely too much going on to even possibly be fun. Dustin was bouncing in his seat from excitement.

“And then, they are going to let me be dungeon master this time, Steve! Don’t tell him, but Will is a master hog,” Dustin rolled his eyes.

Steve tried to look interested, he really did.

“Yeah, well, good luck Henderson,” Steve granted him a smile as Dustin was about to hop out of the car.

“Oh! One more thing, can you, uh, ask Nancy where this…Y/n may happen to stay?”

Dustin’s face puzzled before he looked around. Steve had pleading eyes, kind of hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions. He knew how this must’ve sounded.

“Oh! You know Y/n!” he bounced a little, “Man, you’re so cool, Steve.”

Steve only raised his eyebrows at the boy. Dustin nodded and ran on off into the Wheeler house.

Steve was about to back out of the driveway until he saw Nancy’s small frame dashing out of the house. She was walking with such intensity that her hair was rising inches from her shoulders before cascading back down.

Steve couldn’t help but roll his eyes and sigh. Fucking Henderson.

Steve rolled his window down and tried to put on his best fake smile. He was nervous because he knew Nancy was probably some type of upset.

“Steve! Why are you having a little boy ask me about Y/n?” Nancy said in an accusingly way, even if she wasn’t technically accusing Steve of anything yet.

“I just…I-I needed to ask her something,” he tried to say coolly and shrugged. “I don’t see why it’s, um, any of your business.”

She gave Steve the must incredulous look.

“Steve, c’mon. Seeing as you are my ex and she is my friend, it is very much my business!” she declared.

Steve shrugged nervously. Nancy could only sigh.

“You don’t have a good track record with girls, Steve. If you’re trying to play some game with

Y/n, I promise you that I am not letting that happen,” Nancy shrugged and crossed her arms.

Steve couldn’t help but admire her carefulness.

“Look, I watched her get bitch-slapped by Carol. I wanted to apologize for the situation,” he said after letting out a breath.

“You never have tried to apologize to anybody Hagen and Carol have taunted before, except for Jonathan,” she sighed. Steve couldn’t help but cringe at the name. He was over the situation, but reminders of it still made his heart murmur.

“She also danced with Dustin. He’s like obsessed with her. I just want to do a nice gesture for the girl. You have to believe me,” Steve pressed.

“You don’t know her.”

“Hoping to change that,” he half smiled.

Nancy stared at him intensely, perhaps scanning his face, before her eyes softened.

“Fine, I’ll tell you where she stays, but you have to bring me with you when you decide to go. That’s my rule, and I will not break it,” she uncrossed her arms and pointed at Steve.

He nodded slowly. She turned away and stormed back off into their house.

Steve let out a breath he had not known he was holding. That was fucking intense.

First part! To be honest, I am not sure if this will be correct because I wrote it in another place and transferred it because Tumblr is very hard to write in. Let me know if it looks like there are any gaps and feedback/ requests are welcomed.

#steve harrington x reader #steve stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things #plus size reader #black reader #fluff #fanfiction #poc reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x female reader

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sadmitskifanatic · 8 months

Text

Simon and Betty, Change, and Acceptance - my thoughts on their story

(F&C and AT spoilers under the cut!!) (long post warning)

So obviously a big thing throughout the finale was learning to understand just how important letting the past go is.

Simon and Betty were no doubt hopelessly in love with one another, and though it's freaking adorable, you begin to notice how all the Simon and Betty-centric episodes of the main series, without fail, feature Betty making some kind of sacrifice or bending herself over backwards for Simon's sake. And it wasn't as clear back then, since Simon wasn't himself for majority of the episodes (I think the only time where he wasn't Ice King in the present day would be in "Betty"), but it's definitely something that settles in the back of your mind. This is a pretty nice setup for what happens in F&C.

Now fast forward to F&C's eighth episode "Jerry", where we get a LOT of Petrigrof scenes in the form of flashbacks. When I first saw it, I thought it was adorable and wonderfully ideal. But even then, there were still a couple things that rubbed me the wrong way, though I couldn't quite place it then. During my second watch, I started to pick up on hints that maybe their relationship wasn't as perfect as the show previously portrayed it to be. There may be more, but here are the ones I can think of off the top of my head:

Betty readily tossing her 6-month trip aside in a momentary decision to go on an expedition with Simon (who, let's be honest, invited her in a semi-joking manner and didn't expect her to say yes) despite really only being acquaintances at best at the time

She also gave Simon all the credit for finding the Enchiridion, and I actually expected him to insist on Betty getting some credit a little more than he actually did

She tosses her 6-month trip away AGAIN the moment Simon shows up- her roommate(?) also placed a lot of emphasis on not letting her miss her bus, and yet she did in the end anyways

☆When Fionna asks if Simon went on the trip with her, Simon's surprised and confused. He didn't seem to consider it as a possibility at the time, not out of malice, just that it never actually crossed his mind

And throughout all of these, notice that Betty's essentially throwing her research opportunity and even her career's future away over and over again because she wants to be with Simon, and Simon never objected or told her that she should go for that trip, so why not? And you can see from the fourth point that Simon kinda just never thought about it like that, so if he didn't notice, then of course he didn't stop her. In this subtle way, Betty was unintentionally encouraged to sacrifice more and more things for him.

This is still reflected even as she to loses herself to MMS (magic, madness, and sadness), continuing all the way until her ultimate sacrifice of merging with Golb at the end of AT.

---------- ---------- ----------

That was Betty's side. Now let's look at Simon's progress throughout the finale a little more. I think that Casper and Nova (the storybook, not just the episode) was used really well to represent Simon and Betty's situation, specifically from a third-person point of view. It served as a major factor towards Simon's epiphany moment, especially since it bore so many similarities to him and Betty, allowing him to finally understand what it was like on Betty's end as well.

Casper and Nova was a choose your own story adventure novel (or at least the video gamey futuristic version of one), and the nice thing about that is how it lets Simon make his own decisions. And what he essentially does is repeat what he did with Betty all over again, even though he didn't realise it at first.

"No do-overs with this book, I guess"

I'd like to bring your attention to this part. When Simon wants to pick the other option when his first choice didn't work out, the book doesn't let him, and what's done is done. Sound familiar?

"I don't want any of those things to happen; I like Nova! There should be more choices!"

"Well, maybe there would be, if you hadn't picked Casper's options every time."

Aaaaaand cue epiphany. Simon realises that throughout the relationship, he was always put first. But just like Beth said, it wasn't necessarily Casper's (and by extension his) fault. Yet Simon agrees that he could have been more considerate.

When he's given a chance to relive a crucial moment in their story, he acts differently due to his prior grand realisation. And yet, he never gets on the bus. He knows that no matter how he would have handled it in the present, that isn't what he did in the past, and that's that. Same as the story of Casper and Nova- no do-overs.

And yeah, that sucks. But look here.

Simon's sending Betty- his Betty, not Golbetty- off, properly this time. This is their goodbye. And immediately after, he sees Golbetty on that bus instead of Betty. He's accepted that his Betty is gone.

If he had just realised the extent of Betty's sacrifices, he would've intervened because the last thing he wants is to do that to her since he loves her dearly, and then things would've been different. Maybe if he had gone on that trip with her, he would've never even found the crown. But he didn't realise, and it's too late now. They've both made their choices and mistakes- not in loving each other, but in the sort of inequality of it all, even while wholly unintentional. But regardless, there's no way to undo them, and there's nothing else they can do about it but move forward.

This doesn't necessarily mean forgetting the past ever happened- they were a massive part of each other's lives. They'll still love each other, and think about each other, and miss each other. But the difference is that they've accepted that they're just no longer the same people they were before, and that's okay.

Simon won't get his fiancée back. Betty isn't really Betty anymore, and will never be again. They've both learned to accept that change. A fatal flaw in Betty's character back in the original series was refusing to accept the Ice King, instead viewing him and not just the crown as something that's stopping her from getting her Simon back. And we all know how that turned out.

Simon and Betty won't ever be together like they were before again. Though devastating, things like these, at the end of the day, are a part of life. The important thing is that they were both able to learn from these experiences and continue on with the cards they have been dealt, and that's exactly what they did; with Betty's new duties as GOLB (or maybe even possible reincarnation as some have been theorising) and Simon finally seeking help (thank god he realised that being a living exhibition wasn't the best idea) and accepting the life he was put into.

Simon's not gonna just magically be better, and that's okay. Little by little, he's gonna move on from the past and learn to enjoy life again , and I think the realism in the way it's portrayed is absolutely beautiful.

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #this is essentially an essay ngl #there is SO MUCH MORE i want to talk about but if i start i'll never stop #idek if this makes sense so i apologise if im being repetitive anywhere #also if you want to know more or just like talk about the finale more PLEASE DM ME I LOVE TALKING TO PEOPLE #adventure time #fionna and cake #simon petrikov #fionna and cake spoilers #adventure time spoilers #ice king #betty grof #petrigrof

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rawritzrobin · 2 years

Text

Over Protective

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Stilinski!Twin

Pairings: Derek Hale x Reader

Summary: Derek had turned another classmate of yours. The third beta was the straw that broke the camels back.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None! Just some teen angst and lots of love.

Your blood started to boil as you watched Erica step through the doors behind you. She looked like she stepped right out of a magazine photoshoot. Werewolf looked good on her, you had to admit. You two met eyes and she winked at you before making her way to one of the many open tables.

Behind her stood Isaac and Boyd. Isaac looked over at you happily and waved, but you merely glared at him. You were too mad at Derek to be in a good mood right now. You angrily set down your tray of food and crossed your arms as you sat down in a huff.

Isaac you understood. After Derek told you the truth about him and his dad, you were okay with him turning him. Erica was a bit of a gray area. You did understand the bite cured her of epilepsy and gave her enough confidence to walk around like she owned the place, but the least he could have done was told you before he did it.

Boyd was the straw that broke the camel.

You hadn’t spoken to him in a week now. Not that it seemed like he noticed. It was like he was so busy all the time lately. He sent texts occasionally letting you know he was going to be busy. He also passed messages through Isaac. Isaac often followed you around like a kicked puppy. When you asked why he was following you to the door of the girls locker room, he merely replied “Derek asked me too.”

“Can you believe them?” Scott asked, setting his tray of food in front of yours. Stiles slid in next to you and you further scoffed in annoyance. You hadn’t touched your food and didn’t plan too. You were too angry to eat.

“What's wrong?” Stiles asked, easily sensing your anger. He looked over at where you were currently sending your death glare and knew instantly. “Forget about them Y/N/N.”

How could you when they were now technically your boyfriend’s new family?

*********

That night, you stayed home while Stiles went to go get his Jeep fixed. You were so engrossed in your homework that night you almost didn’t hear Stiles come home. But that would almost be nearly impossible as Stiles ran straight to your room and slammed the door behind him.

“I saw it!” Stiles screamed at you, shoving the text book you had on the bed next to you off the bed. You were about to tell him off when he continued. “Scott was right. It’s not a wolf.”

You and Stiles spent two hours going over what it could be. You ruled out Alien because it was too animal like to be something from space. Dinosaur crossed your mind when Stiles mentioned it was scaley. But after your 200th guess your eyes were dropping and Stiles was nearly asleep at the edge of your bed.

“Let’s talk about it with the crew tomorrow. Common, you’ve had a long night.” You grabbed him by the arm and helped him out of your room. You spent half the day angrily telling Isaac to stop following you and you were exhausted from being pouty all day.

When you got to Stiles’ door you gasped softly as he pulled you in for a hug.

“You okay?” You asked. Gently hugging him back. You could feel him let out a deep sigh as he shook his head.

“Yeah. It’s just been a hard couple of months that's all.”

You hug him a bit harder as you felt the guilt pool into your stomach. “I know. But it’s going to be alright.” You pulled away to look up at him. You swore you saw his eyes were a bit glossy. “We got this okay. Nothing out there the Stilinski’s cant handle.” You said lightly shoving his shoulder.

He smiled and turned to go into his room. But before closing the door, he stuck his head back out his door. “Oh and we need to be up a bit earlier tomorrow. Scott is picking us up tomorrow.”

You laughed and threw your head back. “Of course. Night bro.” You turned and walked away, hearing the door close behind you.

You got ready for bed relatively quickly and could already hear Stiles’ snores through the walls when you turned off the light. You jumped, when you noticed a pair of yellow eyes at your window. “Jeez Der.” You said with relief. Your heart rate picked up as you were actually excited to see him, but then quickly remembered why you were avoiding him. You crossed your arms in annoyance as he opened the window quickly and slipped in. He crossed the room in two large strides and after looking you up and down as if searching for injuries, he wrapped his arms around your frame.

“Thank god.” He whispered.

Confused, you gently pushed his chest away and he looked down at you, relief in his eyes.

“What are you doing here Derek?” You asked, semi annoyed.

“I heard about what happened at the car shop. I assumed you were with Stiles.” He said, his tone full of worry.

You shook your head. “No, Stiles went alone. I was here trying to figure out why the hell you decided it was a good idea to turn another one of my classmates into a werewolf!” You said as loudly as you knew you could without waking Stiles.

“I needed a pack.” He said not letting you go.

“You had Isaac and Erica. That's enough isn’t it?”

“Two was not enough.” He said, his arms still around your waist, he turned his head and looked down at the corner of your room.

“How many is enough Derek?” You said wiggling out of his arm. He let go reluctantly and watched you with sad eyes.

“Y/N..”

“No Derek. You can’t just go turning people like that. I don’t care what they said to you or how you changed their lives.”

“You don’t understand.” He said in a huff.

“Don’t understand what?”

“It’s more complicated than you think.”

“More complicated than my tiny human brain can handle?” You said sarcastically. You could feel your blood pressure rising a bit.

“I needed a pack to protect you okay!” He half screamed. You thanked the gods that Stiles was a heavy sleeper. Derek let out a frustrated sigh and ran his hands through his hair. He started to pace around your room. “How else am I supposed to protect the woman I love?” He asked in a loud whisper. A whisper loud enough for you to hear.

“The woman you what?” You said in surprise.

Derek sighed but took a step forward and took your hands in his. “The woman I love.” He said, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. He looked down at you with the biggest puppy dog eyes. “I love you Y/N. Without a pack I'm useless. Without a pack I can’t possibly protect you from everything that is dangerous to you. Just look at what happened to that mechanic tonight? God knows why it just let Stiles walk away. What if you were there tonight? What if it…” Derek looked away once more.

For the first time since you met him, you could hear the fear in his voice.

“Der…”

“Im sorry Y/N. I should have told you before I turned Boyd.” He sat down on your bed and you took a step forward and sat on his lap. You looked up at him and brought your hands to his chin, turning his face to look at you once more. Your eyes locked and you leaned forward for a gentle kiss.

The anger washed away instantly. You melted into his arms once again. It was easy with him. You looked up at him and smiled, realizing at this moment how much you actually missed his warmth. You pulled away and pressed your face into his chest. You could hear his heartbeat steadily.

“It’s okay. Just.. No more turning my classmates okay?”

Derek smiled down at you and pressed a kiss onto the top of your head. “Okay. I promise.”

You chuckled and pulled away to look up at him. “While we are on this topic. Can you tell Isaac to stop following me around? I love the guy, but it's getting kind of creepy.”

Derek laughed and rolled his eyes. “I just told him to keep an eye on you.”

“Well he is doing too good of a job.” You laughed.

Derek chuckled and laid down on the bed, pulling you with him. The sound of your laughter calmed his mind. He had a lot of his mind at the moment. But he forgot about everything as he focused on your scent and heartbeat.

You pressed your face into his chest and let out a long sigh. Naturally, he wrapped his arms around you as you snuggled in closer. You closed your eyes and let the exhaustion take over.

“I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too Der.” You mumbled before falling asleep with ease.

#derek hale x reader #Teen wolf #Derek Hale #Stiles Stilinski #Teen Wolf x Reader #derek hale x you #Derek x reader #DerekHale x reader #derek hale x y/n #Derek Hale Imagine #Derek Hale One Shot #Teen Wolf Fanfiction #Stilinski!twin #I write things

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theboarsbride · 1 year

Text

A Court of Thorns and Roses (Rant) Review.

Rating: 2⭐⭐/5 stars

Genre: Fantasy/Romance

Length: 420 pages

Review: Soooo……..needless to say I really did not enjoy this book (nor did I ever really anticipate such because this was a hate-read and I cannot stand SJM as both an author and a person lmao). This is going to be a long rant review, and I know a lot of what I'll bring up has been brought up previously in other reviews, but I will still try to provide new insight nonetheless! This review will come in segments, and can be accessed beneath the cut.

ALSO!! There will be spoilers throughout this review. Don't read any further if you don't wish to be spoiled!

AND ALSO! This is merely my opinion. If you enjoy this series, AWESOME! I'm glad for you, this just isn't for me, and I, in good faith, cannot give this book a good review.

⚠️AND NOW CONTENT WARNINGS⚠️ There will be mentions of sexual assault and overall abusive and possessive behavior. I will mark parts of the review that mention these themes with an asterisks (*) so that you may avoid that content if you're not up for reading about it.

NOW ONTO THE REVIEW!!

1. What I liked - While this was still a hate-read I don't want to be a total downer and I wanted to find something about SJM's writing that I enjoyed. Granted there wasn't a lot, but they were still there!

- To start, I feel like SJM can write really interesting and tense action scenes. The opening scene with the killing of the wolf, the naga chase scene (which, like… why are we getting naga in this very clearly English/Celtic folklore-inspired world, and to never have similar creatures featured again?), the trials Under the Mountain, etc. Just, overall, the third act taking place Under the Mountain was so fun!! Like, it wasn't great and still riddled with SJM's writing and other uhhhh questionable stuff (we'll get there), but overall I enjoyed it so much more than the previous two-thirds of the book!

- There were also some romantic moments that I thought were really sweet, and I wish we saw more of that! I wish we saw more of Feyre and Tamlin’s relationship blossom more!

Now onto stuff I didn't like…..(there's a lot)

1. The Writing and Characters - I can't stand SJM's writing style. The obvious annoyance is her overuse of em dashes, and also ellipses. Both of these were so incredibly unnecessary in her work, and only distracted me, and slowed my reading.

- And also she reuses the same sentence structure, and it annoyed me once I noticed it (ex.- i was going to the bathroom, which was white and clean and shining. Then, I went to school, a place that was dull and bland and boring.)

- Like jfc. I wholeheartedly believe the conspiracy that no one actually edits SJM's book because good LORD.

- I refuse to believe that SJM knows, or would even care to know, how to write believable poor people. I refuse to believe that Feyre’s family has been destitute for nearly a decade - because they sure as hell don’t come across like it. Feyre’s sisters, Elaine and Nesta, act so dainty and bitchy about work and survival despite living this way for ALMOST 10 YEARS. Their mentalities, how they react to being poor, how they treat their belongings, how they treat and handle their food, how they handle their money, etc. doesn’t line up for me. I just don’t buy it.

- Also in relation to this point: Feyre is weirdly quick to let Tamlin’s servants wait on her hand and foot. Her psychology, how she thinks, and engages with Tamlin’s manor around her doesn’t fit with someone who’s spent eight years living in violent poverty and starving.

- A bit of a nitpick but, it bothers me that SJM writes Feyre as a painter yet I, for the life of me, couldn't tell you what her style is, how her artwork looks, or even what ANY piece of art looks like in this world. Feyre talks about her artistic eye and all that, but to me that description means nothing. Being a painter and liking art does nothing for Feyre's character, it's such a useless detail when it could be something that adds depth to her character and shows the reader how she views art, how she views the world, etc. This just shows me that SJM did nothing to research art, styles, and mediums, nor does she actually care about her character writing enough to utilize art as a way to elevate Feyre as a character.

- The pacing is so boring. It’s just painfully slow and stuff that could be exciting is skimmed over and never elaborated on, and all that really happens for the first two-thirds of the book is just Feyre vibing (and being passive aggressive towards) Tamlin and Lucien.

2. This is a fairytale retelling? - This book has EVERYTHING I absolutely loathe about modern day fairytale retellings - more specifically retellings of Beauty and the Beast.

- It fails as a retelling, in general, because it completely misses the point of the fairytaleS (there are multiple going on in ACOTAR) and ends up being a shallow husk of these classic tales.

- ACOTAR markets itself as a retelling of several fairytales: Beauty and the Beast, East of the Sun, West of the Moon (a Norwegian variant of BatB featuring a 'beast' that is a polar bear by day and a handsome prince by night), Eros & Psyche (a Greek myth that's widely accepted as one of the original versions of the 'monster bride-groom' narrative framework), and the Ballad of Tam-Lin (a Scottish folktale that features a man cursed by a queen of faeries). And yet I feel like it fails all of these stories, primarily Beauty and the Beast. BatB is a story about kindness and love, and loving someone for who they are as opposed to what they look like, and ACOTAR embodies the very thing I hate about modern retellings of this story: a ‘beast’ that is outwardly handsome and the only ‘beastly’ thing about him is being hypermasculine, aggressive, toxic, and cruel while offering little opportunities of redemption. Except, Tamlin isn’t necessarily all of those things. Conventionally hot and hypermasculine, yes, but he’s been nothing but gracious and nice to Feyre. And WHY is he named ‘Tamlin’, obviously being named after the titular Tam-Lin from Scottish folklore, and SJM does nothing to give this story a ‘Scottish flair’? Which brings me to my next point:

3. Worldbuilding - There is nothing about this world that convinces me that this is unique. It does nothing to differentiate itself from other fantasy worlds, or even our modern world! You can tell that there are medieval and Rococo/Georgian Europe influences, but that’s only in fashion and aesthetics. But the faeries?

- To me, they’re nothing more than conventionally attractive people with pointy ears and MAYBE magic. Tolkien elves, pretty much! Like, deadass, I pictured Tamlin looking like Legolas but jacked as fuck (AND WHY COULDN’T WE GET MORE OF TAMLIN’S BEAST FORM!?!?!?!? UUGHH!!!! BIG SAD!!). There were so few, like… FAERIE faeries, and whenever there were any the only indicators SJM would offer are differing skin tones, sharp teeth, claws, wings, etc. They just felt so uninspired and lazy (teetering between underdeveloped spectral entities or LOTR elves) … why write about faeries if you’re not going to put in the effort to flesh them out as FAERIES? I once saw someone say that what SJM is doing to faeries is what Stephanie Meyer did to vampires and honestly??? I agree.

- I will forever be bitter that SJM decided to write about faeries and did NOTHING new with fae lore.

- *I know this gets explained a little more in the second book (which… I will get to that when I write my ACOMAF review because i’ve thoughts) but what exactly is this world’s religious system? Because you never get a good feel for it. I say this because several times Lucien mentions ‘Hell’, as in capital ‘h’ Hell - Christian Hell. Why would he say this when humans are agnostic/athiest with a sparse numbr of fae-worshiping cults (and were once implied to have had a polytheistic religion that differs from our world’s Christianity) and fae worship the Cauldron and other faerie deities so like.....why would SJM not use a few extra braincells to create her own version of Hell rather than using lazy cultural shorthand that, by the logic of this book's world, doesn't work???? And this is a recurring theme in ACOTAR: lazy, underdeveloped, under explained world-building.

- *This might just be me but I hate the fated mates trope in this series. It just seems like a way to sexualize domestic abuse, and it doesn’t allow me to enjoy seeing a budding relationship to develop if we’re told that these two characters are SUPPOSED to be together and are MEANT to be in love and have sex!! (also a me thing: the way SJM sexualizes stuff is a personal ick… her ships are built more upon sex and sexual attraction rather than romantic feelings, which just isn’t for me and makes me struggle to believe people to actually be in love despite how much the author tries to convince me of such). Also the violent gender essentialism and heteronormativity :( ….it only gets worse in the second book.

- Why must we refer to everyone as male and female??? I would give this a pass if the faeries were more faerie and less human but… these fae are just humans with pointy ears, so I am deeply uncomfortable by the constant use of ‘male’ and ‘female.’ (I’m convinced that SJM is into omegaverse erotica, and I’d honestly have more respect for her if she just wrote straight-up, shameless omegaverse erotica rather than trying to write a vaguely developed fantasy story that fails to deliver on the epic plot it’s trying to sell to me.)

4. Feyre - She is a dumb protagonist (and I blame the author). She is dumb and deserves death - and you can tell that this is a plot-convenience brand of stupidity, unfortunately. Like the instance with the Puca. She suddenly sees her crippled father on Tamlin's land in Prythian in the middle of the night??? Given the wary hostility and aggression and distrust she's been displaying towards everyone and everything so far in Prythian, why isn't she doing the same in this instance???? She's said herself she is wary of faerie tricks, and acknowledged that not even whole, able-bodied humans are able to survive in Prythian without the help of a faerie, so why would she think her disabled father, who is helpless in the mortal realm, be any different??? And why would she care that her father has come for her??? Did she not wish that her family starves without her, so that they realize she's important to them and she holds them in such an embittered contempt?????

- Tamlin and Feyre have no chemistry. It just feels like I should be shipping them because this is a retelling of Beauty and the Beast and all that, but I just don't. SJM is relying heavily on a fairytale framework while also doing nothing to even try to convince me that these two characters are meant to be together. Their relationship is so dry and it feels like the attraction comes from nowhere, and only starting with physical attraction - which, to me, goes against the message of BATB, of loving someone for who they are rather than what they look like. The two of them, respectively, have more chemistry with Lucien than each other. Hell, why not make them a throuple???🤨 now THAT I'd ship because all three have banter, and any interaction with Lucien is so much fun to read.

- Also……how the fuck did Feyre not figure out Amarantha’s riddle?

5. *Rhysand - Yes. He gets his own section because I HATE him - and I HATE that he is destined to be the endgame love interest. He is a character we’re meant to root redemption for but I fucking refuse. And this is why.

- Rhysand has the perfect set up to be a scary asf villain, not a love interest. We will talk more about Rhysand and why he and Feyre are a ship I refuse to get behind, but that will be reserved for future updates.

- For now: Rhys is great for a scary villain! He is night incarnate, he has snark, he has an imposing presence, and he can invade the minds of others......and he invades Feyre's mind, which she described as being immensely uncomfortable and painful, and she is afraid. Mind you, he does this without her consent. Keep in mind that everything he does beyond this point is without her consent and he is doing it as himself and for his own gain, not the influence of love pollen or magic. He is doing it while totally aware and sober. That's why he is a horrible person and a creep.

- He does many things without Feyre’s consent. He tortures, assaults, drugs, and harms her all without consent without anything else compelling his will other than himself.

- He forces her into a deal in which she is to spend one week a month in the Night Court with him, and he does this by twisting and pulling her broken arm when she refuses. He drugs and assaults her by making her drink faerie wine (which she refuses to drink as she was warned against doing so), dresses her scantily clad AGAINST HER WILL, covers her in paint so he knows where people all touch her AGAINST HER WILL, and makes her perform lap dances until she gets sick and then makes her all do it again AGAINST HER WILL. After catching her and Tamlin stealing a moment, he pushes her against a wall and kisses her WITH TONGUE to make it seem like he was the one that muddied the paint on her body rather than Tamlin. All of this he’s done AGAINST HER WILL.

- Have I mentioned how he does this against her will yet??? Did I emphasize enough that Rhysand does all this to Feyre without her consent???

- Rhysand is an evil creep that I refuse to redeem. What he did for Feyre Under the Mountain is awful and not at all deserving of redemption. And I don’t care if he says ‘I did this to help defeat Amarantha and save my court’ or ‘I did it to make Tamlin more mad and to kill Amrantha instantly’ or ‘I did it for your own good.’ I don’t fucking care, those are the excuses of an abuser. He didn’t need to literally torture and assault her.

- Also, on that note: why does he do this for the sake of making Tamlin more mad? Like??? Tamlin saw his court be cursed, he was sexually harassed by Amarantha ever since he was a child, and he witnessed Amarantha torture a woman he loves. Why would he need anything more to make him kill Amarantha faster? This argument fails to work for me. Fuck you, Rhysand, I hate you.

6. *Calanmai - This gets its own section because it’s just… so messy, and I wish to blame SJM for it’s messiness because the characters are all victims to her insensitive, careless writing.

- This is a very weird scenario??? Because, let's be frank, Tamlin assaulted Feyre and Feyre is a victim... HOWEVER. on multiple occasions she is told by FAERIES THAT HAVE EONS OF KNOWLEDGE ABOUT THIS WORLD, THEIR CULTURES, CUSTOMS, AND ACCOMPONYING DANGERS to stay in her room and that this is not safe for humans, especially her once the Great Rite occurs because Tamlin will be drawn to her. But she goes against these warnings, going to the festival and leaving her room before dawn.

- HOW DUMB ARE YOU FEYRE??!?!?!?!?! WHY ARE YOU SO STUPID???!?!?!?!?!?!?!!?!??!?! JUST UUGGHHH!!!!!!!!

- And then there's Tamlin. With how the Great Rite is explained, it's like he is possessed by some springtime magic so that he is a vehicle for said magic? So the scene where he pins Feyre and bites her is almost set up like he both is and isn't possessed? It's more like he's drunk off of love pollen?? I don't know, but to me I think that both are and are not at fault - they are because Feyre didn't listen to SEVERAL warnings in a situation that is obviously unsafe for her and Tamlin could've prepared better by explaining things to her and setting up safeguards, and they aren't because Feyre is a victim and Tamlin is being possessed by a power that's greater him (which is kind of implied to be something he really doesn't want to do). Again, this is a very weird and highly uncomfortable situation - both are victims to SJM’s writing.

- Ultimately, the situation of Calanmai is poorly written and handled on SJM's behalf. It feels like her trying to eroticize a moment of assault, which in of itself is gross (bear in mind that this was initially published as a YA novel - and I initially read it as a YA novel in middle school), and to introduce Rhysand, the second half of this love triangle, which there are so many other ways this could've been done. And the fact that the assault is brushed off and treated like a friendly joke without having actual discussion about it makes it worse. - This is arguably the most 'fae' thing in this book so far? Like it feels so fae because of connections to celebrating springtime and fertility, and drinking and festivals, but at the same time this just feels like an oversexualization of traditional pagan beliefs by being a massive orgy?

- Just. Ew. Sarah J Mass, you’re gross for writing a moment like this and not being responsible enough to execute this concept with more nuance.

7. The Ending - This is really brief, but boooooo to Feyre being resurrected with all the powers of all the High Lords. :(

- (Also I know that Rhysand hints at him and Feyre being mates and uugghhh kill me now)

So these are my main thoughts regarding ACOTAR… It’s a fantasy romance that should be advertised more for it’s romance than fantasy elements as the fantasy-action takes a major backseat and acts more as a subplot to the main romance. It’s a fantasy world that is underdeveloped and is full to the brim of underutilized lore. It butchers existing faerie lore, and leaves much to be desired. Characters are unlikeable and stupid, and the only thing that got me through this book was Lucien.

SJM I do not like you, and I cannot wait to return to write about my hate for ACOMAF.

#jojo reads #anti acotar #anti sjm #anti sarah j maas #anti rhysand #anti feysand #rant review #book review #rant book review #acotar #anti a court of thorns and roses #readers of tumblr

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