#I don't think anyone will but I guess I'm a bit paranoid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

suugarbabe · 7 months

Note

Hi! Congrats on 1k!!!!

i was wondering if you could do a Fred Weasley x reader

but the reader is Sirius blacks daughter 🤷🏼‍♀️ It takes place abt Prisoner of Azkaban

but so the reader was raised by Remus because Sirius chose him as the godfather and the reader is extremely touch starved like it’s crazy

and she is rlly anxious abt everything and (almost) everyone at hogworts shuns her because she’s Sirius blacks daughter and they believe she helps him in the school or is like him. But she’s not and it all just really gets to her. and she talks to Remus abt all of it (they def gossip together lol) and he tries his best to make it better for her but she kinda left one part out, about Fred. They had been friends for a while but they kinda drifted for whatever reason. He was with her all the time out of no where and she was a bit paranoid abt it but he just wanted to make sure she was ok and because he really missed her. And he was in love with her but he didn’t quite know how to tell her, and he didn’t really know what all he felt. I guess like a slow burn situation lol

sorry that’s a whole lot lol and it jumps all over the place I’m terrible at explaining things

absolutely love your work tho 🫶🏻🫶🏻

so i took a little creative liberty with this to make it work as a blurb so if you hate it, sozz, but I kind of like it??

The door to your godfather's office opened before you even had a chance to knock. You let out a sigh as you walked into the classroom, "Uncle Rem, you know I hate it when you watch me on that map." You walked up to his desk at the front of the classroom, sinking into the large chair sitting behind it.

"You know I only do it when I'm worried about you. And your father would have my head if I didn't keep a good eye on you," Remus's voice came from behind you, walking down the steps from his office before joining you in the main classroom.

You tried your best not to roll your eyes, "There's no need for him to be worried. Haven't you heard, Rem? I'm letting him into the castle so he can murder our precious Harry Potter." You slumped further into the chair, "I'm sorry. I know Harry doesn't know the truth, but you don't know how hard it is to keep this secret."

"Bug," Remus was smiling at you, "if anyone knows about the trials and tribulations of keeping a secret at Hogwarts, I think i'd be able to relate." You couldn't help but smirk, "Okay, you've got me there. But no one suspected your dad to be a murderer."

Remus nodded, "Not everyone thinks you're so terrible, Bug." You couldn't help but scoff, "I love you, Uncle Rem, but unfortunately you don't count in this scenario."

Remus just shook his head, "M'not talking about me, love."

You tilted your head in confusion, "What are you talking about?"

Your godfather couldn't contain his smirk, "I'm referring to one Mr. Weasley. Fred to be more specific."

You huffed out a little, "Fred? Worried about me? Please, Uncle Rem, he's not worried, he's just stalking to try and find out how I'm letting dad in."

"You know that's not true, Bug. Fred's been a good friend of yours for many years. Why would this year change everything?" Remus was sitting on the edge of his desk now, looking down at you in the chair. You felt like a young child again when you used to sit with Remus in the living room and talk to him about everything and anything.

"I just feel like we've been drifting. We don't talk as much, but he's always kind of around? I just know he thinks the same thing as everyone else. His brother is best friends with Harry for Godric's sake, like of course he hates me now, how could he not?"

Remus looked at you with those eyes, the eyes he gives you when he's about to tell you how wrong you are. You closed your eyes in response, only causing Remus to chuckle, "What on earth are you doing?"

"If I don't look at you, I can't see you silently telling me how incorrect I am," this answer only made Remus laugh harder.

"Bug," he said your nickname lovingly, "Bug, look at me please, it's important." You peeked one eye open. "Uh-uh, both eyes, full attention."

You huffed out a sigh before complying. Remus folding his arms over his chest, "Mr. Weasley is quite fond of you and ah, ah-," Remus cut himself off, holding up a finger to you to stop you from replying before continuing himself, "and I think you should go have a chat with him. He came to me earlier today, telling me how worried he was about you, that he's been keeping an eye on you to make sure that you're safe. He's quite fond of you, Bug."

Your cheeks burned red, not knowing what to say in response. "Maybe," Remus stood from his desk now, "you should go have a chat with him." He started ascending up the stairs now, essentially leaving you no choice to but listen to his suggestion.

"I don't even know where he is right now," you tried, but you knew your efforts were futile when you heard your godfather mumbled the retched spell to open his map.

"He's in the astronomy tower," Remus called from his office. You rolled your eyes, "Thank yooou, Uncle Remus." You pushed off the the comfy chair that essentially had your imprint in it before heading out the classroom door, Remus calling after you that he loved you and wishing you good luck.

On your walk to the astronomy tower, you replayed the last couple months in your head. How Fred was always checking up on you, asking you how you were doing, if you needed him to walk you to class, if you had any plans later that day, if you wanted to take a break and go to the lake with him.

You assumed he was checking your schedule, seeing if you were trying to plot something for your father or were making plans to help with him getting into the castle. You were so clouded by paranoia and fear of judgement you failed to see that, beyond your godfather, Fred was the only person that was actually trying to be there for you.

You tip toed up the astronomy tower, not wanting to be fully discovered before you were ready. When you reached the top you saw Fred leaning against the railings. You walked slowly up to him, placing a tentative hand on his elbow causing him to turn his head toward you.

"Oh, hello, darling," he smiled sweetly at you, though you could tell it didn't quite reach his eyes like it normally did. You were cursing yourself internally, not believing how you could be so stupid. You didn't hesitate to wrap your arms around him, squeezing him like you didn't want him to float away, "I'm so sorry, Freddie. I've been so stupid."

It took just a second for him to respond before he was hugging you back, rubbing your back gently, "Darling, what are you talking about? Stupid about what?"

You pulled back slightly, craning your neck to look up at the tall man, "I've been pushing you away when you're the only person who's been there for me, truly. The only one who hasn't been blaming me, who's been looking out for me, checking in on me, making sure no one else bothers me. I've been so stupid and paranoid that I thought maybe you were doing those things to keep an eye on me for the wrong reasons."

The more you rambled the more Fred began to smile. "Freddie," you pouted, "i'm serious, I've been so awful to you."

Fred just shook his head, large hands cupping your face and wiping your tears, "You're right, angel." You're heart stopped for a moment, thinking he was going to tell you how terrible you were to him and how much you hurt him, "You're right that I care about you, that I've just been trying to protect you. M'not mad at you for being cautious. Hell, I expected it really." You couldn't help to laugh sightly.

He smiled at your small laughter, "There she is, there's my girl." Fred tilted your head so you were looking him in the eyes now. And you saw it, his admiration for you, how much he cared, that he loved you, all in how he was looking at you right in this moment.

"Kiss me, Freddie." It was a statement, not a question. He hesitated, looking in to your eyes to make sure that's what you really wanted. But you were done being patient, done waiting to see what others were going to do.

You fisted to front of his jumper, pulling his down to you. His lips met yours quickly, one of his hands shooting down to your waist as his other found solace on the back of your neck. Your lips moved together effortlessly, his so soft and plush against yours.

You tilted your head slightly, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Your hand fisted his red hair at the base of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer before you both had to eventually break away for air.

Fred's cheeks were beat red, lips slightly swollen and you were sure you looked the same. "Wow," was all Fred was finally able to say. You nodded, "Wow."

"I should've done that weeks ago," Fred laughed lightly. You wrapped your arms around his neck, "Well, now you can do it whenever you want." He nodded, smiling, leaning down to go for another kiss.

#nonny bo bonny #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #wolfstar!reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley blurb

180 notes · View notes

skepsiss · 7 months

Text

Tooth and Nail pt2

Part 2 of this mini-series. I guess I'm writing like 4 mini-series right now. This story is about Eddie being the one to question his sexuality after Steve comes out first. Read the first part to get the full details.

This part is pretty darn sad with a lot of introspection. I put up a mini-poll asking people what they wanted to read the most and Eddie being introspective was winning when I started writing this. I'm likely to write all the options on that poll still, so don't fret. I want to say clearly too that I do not agree with Eddie's thoughts. Sharing your emotions is never selfish and I think the fact that he feels like a burden is something he needs to work through. He is unwell. I'll admit I made myself cry writing this so if you're emotionally fragile like I am (lol) read at your own risk.

TW: Internalized homophobia (he's working through it), self-hatred, brief thoughts on death, mention of war (Vietnam and Korea).

PT1 PT2 PT3

---

"I kissed Steve."

"What?" Gareth said, startled as he stared at Eddie.

Eddie was sitting on a beaten-up old armchair in Jeff’s garage; it was night and they’d opened the garage door to let in the summer air. The whole block was having a party and despite the time of night, the street was still alight with lamps and Christmas lights as people mingled in the street. Eddie had taken refuge in the garage (slightly paranoid that someone was going to touch the band equipment) after the first hour of forcing himself to be social. He had a beer in hand, even though he was underage, but it didn’t seem like any of the adults cared as long as they behaved. Hell, Eddie didn’t even live on this block but he was here enough that the neighbours didn’t seem to mind.

“A week and a half ago,” Eddie answered. He was slouching badly with one leg up on the seat, looking as if he was trying to lounge on a satee instead of a corduroy, La-Z-Boy from the 60s.

“Wait–sorry, what?” Gareth asked again, holding his own beer between his knees as he stared at Eddie. He had come to join him a few moments ago since Eddie had been moping by himself, and then they had proceeded to sit in silence until now.

Eddie flicked his gaze over to the younger boy before taking a long sip of his beer as if to say, yeah, you heard right without the willingness to repeat himself. He was quietly pissed, actually, but was chomping at the bit to talk to someone about it.

“So, are you like…” Gareth started, waving one of his hands as if that would fill in the blank.

“I’m fucking straight,” Eddie muttered, looking away and taking another long drink from his beer.

“Then why–” Gareth wasn’t going to get a word in edgewise and anyone who came to talk to Eddie when he was in a mood like this knew that coming in.

“I don’t fucking know!” Eddie grumbled, crossing his other arm over his chest and slouching all the way down in his seat so only his neck was being supported by the back of the chair.

Gareth frowned at him and looked away, no doubt wondering what he should say to all of that. It gave Eddie a moment to calm down and he eventually sat back up.

“I just…” he muttered, speaking into his drink, “I don’t know; it’d be easy if he was a girl. I just wish he was a girl.”

“Eddie…” Gareth mumbled a bit incredulously as he pinched his brows in. His expression was pitying and Eddie hated that it looked like he felt sorry for him. That was annoying and he scowled before looking away.

Eddie’s logic was sound, it didn’t make sense why Gareth would be questioning it. Things would be easier if Steve was just a girl, that way if he had kissed him it wouldn’t be a big deal. Just an oops, sorry, that was uncool, well, anyways, and then they’d move on. He wouldn’t have to be dealing with this crisis of conscience and saying that he was just joking around wouldn’t have blown up in his face–maybe, he wasn’t sure. If Steve was a girl saying that he was joking actually might have blown up in his face more now that he was thinking about it… probably wasn’t cool to yank a girl’s chain like that.

“We were high and I don’t know, I wanted to talk to him about it being fine that he’s gay or whatever and I wasn’t thinking at all and I just…” Eddie sighed heavily and chugged the remainder of his beer. He twisted the pull-tab off and flicked it across the room, aiming for the bin and missing.

“You always want to kiss people when you’re high?” Gareth asked an edge of humour to his voice. He was teasing lightly, but Eddie didn’t have the patience for that kind of crap right now.

“Fuck no,” Eddie grouched, crossing his arms and resuming his earlier position where one of his legs was up and he was slouched into the corner of the seat. “I wouldn’t kiss your ugly mug for money.”

Gareth snorted lightly and took a swig of his beer, letting the moment simmer.

“So…” he continued, glancing at Eddie before looking away sharply, “he get mad or something?”

Eddie groaned as he covered his eyes with the side of his hand, cupping his forehead as he tipped his head back. Why had he brought this up? He didn’t want to talk about this. It had been eating his insides alive, but he didn’t actually want to talk about it. What was Gareth going to do? Tell him the magic words to make Steve like him again?

“I told him I was joking,” Eddie mumbled, “and that I didn’t mean it–I even apologized, and I don’t fucking apologize to anyone.”

“Tell me about it,” Gareth muttered under his breath and Eddie hucked his empty beer can at his head, forcing Gareth to duck.

“Jesus–” he half laughed, the can knocking against him harmlessly and clattering to the ground, “just saying.”

Eddie flicked him off and motioned to get up. He didn’t need to be here for this, he didn’t want to be around people. This sucked. He could tell that Gareth was trying to be helpful–trying to be a friend–but he didn’t have the patience for it and he didn’t want to have another fight with another friend over something stupid.

Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled over to Gareth before picking up the empty can and chucking it into the garbage. He wasn’t about to leave trash in Jeff’s garage, his parents let them practice there and store their gear most of the time and Eddie wasn’t going to burn this location.

“Say bye to Jeff for me,” Eddie muttered, grouching out of the garage, “and thanks for the food.”

“You going home?” Gareth asked, leaning over the side of his chair to watch Eddie.

“No, this is an illusion,” Eddie mocked, turning and waving his hand in front of his face and giving a manic smile, “the Eddie you know died a long time ago.”

Gareth half laughed, but his brows pinched in at the same time. Eddie didn’t stick around to see if that meant he wanted to say something. He just continued to walk away, turning and hunching his shoulders as he walked past energetic little kids chasing one another and people starting to pack up their dishware. He didn’t feel like unpacking what he had told Gareth or why stating that he had died twisted his guts up into knots. He also didn’t like that he could tell that his upset wasn’t due to the fact that he was lying, but rather that it felt too close to the truth.

Eddie lit a cigarette and started the long walk home. He lost the last of the dusk light halfway through his walk, already two cigarettes down as he got closer to Cherry Street. He wanted to say he ended up there by accident, but that would have been a lie. He walked this way often, actually, and it had been convenient once upon a time. Steve lived on Cherry Street… and Cherry Street backed up onto the forest that connected to the trailer park. A funny coincidence, he had said once to Steve, makes it easier to bother you. That was all too true now though. He was more than a bother.

Eddie stood looming at the end of the street as he stared off towards Steve’s house, the large, stark white structure easy to spot even in the dark. The lawn was lit up by small pot lights and the street lamp across the road shone brightly down onto the sidewalk. Eddie was out of view of any of the windows from his vantage, but he could see the side of the garage and the front of Steve’s house still.

He grumbled miserably and flicked the butt of his cigarette, not bothering to stamp it out before rerouting and taking the long way home. He didn’t want to walk past Steve’s place and risk seeing him, he didn’t know what he’d say if he saw him… he still didn’t really know what had happened. The whole thing felt jumbled in his mind and then crystal clear all at once. He could remember everything so vividly, but it was as if they had been speaking a foreign language to each other: none of it made sense.

Why did he kiss Steve?

Why had that led to Steve getting so angry he nearly got hit?

Why was he such a jackass that seemed to ruin any good thing that happened to him?

It was pitch black by the time Eddie made it home, but he knew the route well enough. The trailer park didn’t have any lights other than the rinky-dink porch lights that some of the homesteads had. It wasn’t that late, but things got dark this far away from town. He came home late like this all the time though, so it wasn’t a surprise when the flyscreen slapped open and Wayne was lounging on the couch. Wayne wasn’t working right now, which was a problem, but they had a small nest egg from the government to live off of for at least a few more weeks. It was amazing how far you could stretch a dollar when you’d been doing it for 20 years.

“That you, Eddie?” Wayne asked, sparing a glance towards the door as a commercial popped onto the screen.

“Yeah…” Eddie mumbled, standing by the front door with his hands in his pockets still. He was looking at the ground, and Eddie wasn’t sure why he felt paralyzed. He didn’t want to move, but he didn’t want to be standing there either… stuck in some kind of limbo.

“You’re home early,” Wayne commented, his tone sounding cautious as if he wasn’t sure if a conversation was going to come out of this, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Eddie answered, again, not really sure what he was expecting.

Silence drew out between them as Eddie shifted from foot to foot, just wanting to… be around someone. He wasn’t sure if that was right, but he wanted to be invited in or something. He selfishly wanted to be comforted even though he was the problem.

“What’re you watching?” He mumbled, still not looking at Wayne.

“Mash,” Wayne answered easily, “reruns.”

Eddie nodded and sniffed, feeling like a stranger in his own home. Though he supposed that wasn’t right, this was Wayne’s home, he was a guest. He was a guest that had worn out his invitation by years and years. The deal had been until he graduated, but he still hadn’t done that and it was starting to feel like an impossibility. He didn’t want to be a burden though and he knew that getting a job was the next best thing… but he hadn’t been able to force himself to do that yet either.

Slowly, Eddie shuffled over to the couch and sat down a cushion width away from his uncle, looking up at the TV. The commercials were ending and Eddie felt his throat tighten as he tried to push himself into small talk.

“Is it a good episode?” He asked, having seen most of MASH living here with Wayne. He liked the show, and Eddie could understand why. All the characters questioned why they were at war and the ethics of it all. Made sense for someone like Wayne to get some kind of catharsis from the show after coming home from ‘Nam all those years ago.

“It’s the one where Hawkeye tries to get ribs sent from Chicago to Korea,” Wayne explained, sipping the drink he had in his hand and looking back at the TV.

Eddie snorted slightly, remembering the episode. He toed his shoes off and tucked up onto the couch so he could rest his chin on his knees, the room falling into silence except for the murmur of the TV and the tell-tale M*A*S*H song in the background. It was easy to watch and Eddie stared at the grainy images on the screen as Wayne and him shared the living room. He always liked that he could be quiet with Wayne, but it felt a bit forced on his part tonight.

A commercial broke up the episode and Eddie sighed, not looking at Wayne as he tipped his head to the side before chewing his lip and finally speaking.

“You ever… had a fight with a friend?” Eddie asked quietly, not liking the sound of his own voice right now. It was quiet for a beat before Wayne responded, his tone calm.

“Sure,” he said easily, obviously waiting for Eddie to continue, “you… have a fight with the band?”

“Steve,” Eddie mumbled, shaking his head no to Wayne’s assumption as he picked off the black polish on his nails.

“What did you do… to fix it?” Eddie asked, still not looking up.

“Apologized… talked, bought them a beer,” Wayne offered loosely, “depends on what the fight was about.”

Eddie nodded solemnly, not liking that there wasn’t some magic answer to his query. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he didn’t feel like elaborating his problem either. So he just nodded and picked at his nails, waffling for a long time before more words tumbled out of him.

“Do you think… people just… dislike me?” Eddie asked, his lip quivering a bit before he got control of it, swallowing hard to hide his emotions. Wayne didn’t say anything right away which forced a bitter laugh from Eddie’s lungs.

“Like, I’m difficult, I know it, people don’t like difficult but sometimes…” Eddie smiled sadly as he held back his emotions, hiding his face between his knees again, “something even when I’m around people that are… like me, I’m just… different.”

Eddie didn’t like the words that were slipping out of him, why he felt like this was related to what had happened with Steve, or why he was saying it to begin with. He didn’t want to talk about this and he didn’t want to put this on Wayne to think about, that wasn’t fair. Wayne dealt with enough of his bullshit, more than any Uncle should have to, but sometimes Eddie couldn’t help that his uncle felt like the only safe person to talk to.

“It feels like it’s just so easy for me to–” he laughed quietly again, having a harder time holding back the wavering tone of his voice, “--to just–fuck things up with people.”

His body betrayed him and Eddie felt tears slipping down his face and he rushed to push them away so they wouldn’t be seen, still shielded by his knees as he hunched like a gargoyle.

“Eddie–” Wayne started, too much sympathy in his voice.

“Sorry,” Eddie muttered, trying to put levity into his tone, “I know you don’t like it when I drop the f-bomb.”

That was partly true, but Eddie also knew that Wayne didn’t care that much. They swore all the time, he just didn’t like being sworn at.

Wayne went quiet for a moment and Eddie squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get rid of any lingering tears that might be holed up in there.

“What’s going on, boy?” Wayne asked, his voice incredibly gentle.

Eddie felt his bottom lip bunch up, hating that any time Wayne sounded like that Eddie was doomed to start breaking down. It was like a superpower or something–he didn’t know, but Wayne had made him cry dozens of times when he felt on the verge of tears. He always felt selfish seeking out comfort from his uncle when he had already saddled him with so many problems.

“I hate people–” Eddie blubbered, not sure if that was what he really wanted to say but that felt like the strongest phrasing he could find to describe how he felt. He felt so small and so selfish, reverting back to some kind of scared kid who didn’t know how to deal with his own emotions.

Eddie finally looked up, his face wet and his chest tight, and he crawled across the seat cushioned and collapsed onto his side, pressing his face into Wayne’s thigh. He was so pathetic… he was twenty years old and he was crying into his uncle's lap? Eddie the demon, the freak, the devil, metal head, satanic worshipper – yeah right.

“Sometimes it feels like–people just–I’m just–-I’m made to be hated,” he blubbered, hiding his face and gasping through his words. He felt miserable and like he wasn’t really saying what he meant, but he didn’t know what he wanted to say or even why he was doing this right now. It was like hundreds of emotions were trying to fight their way out of his chest and he couldn’t do anything about it. He hated it.

Wayne touched the top of his head and Eddie felt himself choke.

Wayne’s touch was gentle and Eddie couldn’t help but sob as he started to stroke the back of his head. It was a subdued affection, but one that Eddie knew was genuine. Wayne wasn’t a man of many words, so sometimes a touch was the best he was going to get. There was a reason why Wayne sometimes felt like the only safe person–even if Eddie still felt like he was a burden to his uncle.

“Everything about me just—” Eddie sobbed, gritting his teeth as he just let his thoughts and feelings freefall from him. “Why am–I—I–why do I like everything people can–can just hate–about me? I don’t like anything normal—I’m just–nothing about me is normal.”

Usually, Eddie was the first one to proclaim that he was different and scream it loudly for people to hear. He’d shout and point and own it and draw all the other weirdos towards him. He was the king of all the freaks, but it felt like he was still an island amongst them. He was always somehow different. Like there was this wall he bumped up against far too easily that would crop up out of nowhere. How he’d say or do something and just fuck everything up in one fell swoop.

Why did he keep giving people new reasons to call him a freak?

“I hate being like this–I hate–I hate that I can’t just–be normal for—for five minutes,” he gasped, feeling that swell of self-hatred rising in his chest, “it’s always my fault–it’s–I’m always… so… difficult. I just—I can’t—...I don’t know why–I don’t—I hate it, I hate it so much.”

He was feeling sorry for himself again and that felt unfair. It didn’t feel like this was something he got to be upset about or something that Wayne or anyone else cared about. It felt unfair to complain to a man who had probably watched dozens of friends die right in front of him during the war; to complain to a man who had taken him in when no one else would and had to bear this kind of responsibility when he hadn’t asked for it. To have a snot-nosed-brat sobbing in his lap because people didn’t like him. But Eddie was nothing if not selfish.

“I’m so tired of being different–I don’t… I don’t want it anymore–why does it matter so much to people? I just–I don’t want it anymore–It’s–like—I know, I know people hate me—everyone in this goddamn town–people–pe—everyone hates me. Wayne–” he was heaving now as he rambled, everything just spilling out of him in these waves of emotions as each ugly sound crashed into the next. “It’s not fair—I don’t—I don’t want to be the freak–I don’t what—I don’t want to be a loser–to be a drop out–I don’t want—I don’t want to like men–”

The last of his confessions slipped out and Eddie felt his body tighten; his throat felt like it was being ripped apart and his lungs couldn’t pull in enough breath to satiate him. It hurt so badly. It hurt and he hated it and he didn’t know why he said it.

Eddie felt Wayne’s pets pause briefly before picking back up again. That more than anything made Eddie feel ashamed. It made his jaw shake and his shoulders tighten. How fear and sorrow rattled around inside of him at the consequences of his words. He didn’t know what saying them would do–he didn’t mean them. He knew he didn’t mean them–he couldn’t have meant them. Those words were a death sentence.

“It’ll be alright,” Wayne mumbled, the words not sounding as hollow as Eddie thought they would, “I like you plenty.”

Eddie tucked in at the compliment, feeling weak and small as his sobs quieted a bit. His tears didn’t stop, but his chest heaves changed into fluttering gasps as he slowly regained his composure.

“Freaks run in the Munson blood,” Wayne continued and Eddie blubbered a small laugh shifting to press into Wayne’s hip. He was such a child, but he couldn’t help but soak in the comfort.

It was quiet again for some time as Eddie’s crying turned into hiccups and then sniffles, the TV quietly rambling in the background. It took a long while for Eddie to calm down, but Wayne never stopped stroking his hair. He felt wrung out and hollow now, his emotions dull and his body aching from how hard he had cried. Still, it did feel better than when he walked in here.

“I kissed him…” Eddie said quietly. He felt Wayne shift to look down at him, a question in his movement.

“Steve,” Eddie explained, mumbling, “I kissed Steve the other week.”

“I see,” Wayne answered back, obvious awkwardness in his delivery. He had never been good at talking about stuff like this–anything really–but it was obvious that he was trying. “And he doesn’t like that you’re a guy?”

Eddie shook his head, and closed his eyes, tucking in closer still as he pressed his forehead against Wayne’s stomach.

“Steve likes guys,” Eddie sighed, breathing heavily as he wrangled his emotions.

“Alright…” Wayne replied slowly, obviously puzzling through everything. Eddie frowned and tucked in again, hiding as he felt shame wash over him.

“I kissed him…” he explained, sniffing, “and then I told him it was a joke, that I didn’t mean it…”

“Ah…” Wayne answered, sighing a knowing breath. “Did you mean it?”

Eddie swallowed thickly, taking a long time to answer as he pressed hard into Wayne as if he could disappear this way.

“I don’t know…” Eddie replied, his voice muffled. Wayne stroked his head again and Eddie breathed deeply through his mouth, feeling bad for crying all over Wayne’s lap.

“Alright,” Wayne answered simply, not pushing the subject at all. He was good at listening and Eddie quietly appreciated that Wayne always seemed to have time to listen to him ramble. Slowly, Eddie sat back up, his back to Wayne as he hugged his knees and rallied.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled, feeling like he had to apologize for the way he had acted.

Wayne just patted his shoulder and Eddie felt a few tears slip down his cheek as if they had been knocked out of him by his uncle’s kindness. He sniffed hard again before getting off the couch and stumbling into the kitchen to splash water into his face and clean off the snot and tears. Eddie lifted the hem of his shirt to dry his face and then leaned against the kitchen counter, going quiet once more.

“Eddie?” Wayne spoke up and Eddie peered over at him through the cabinet shelf, “try telling your friend the truth.”

Eddie frowned at the suggestion, but he didn’t have it in him to be angry. Still, he didn’t think that was a great idea. What was he supposed to say? He wasn’t even sure if he knew what the truth was. How did he feel? Did he like Steve? That felt stupid and the idea made his stomach turn over. What good would a confession do anyway?

“And what’s that?” Eddie asked a bit flippantly, wiping wet strands of hair out of his face.

“That you’re figuring it out and you want to stay friends,” Wayne offered, looking over at Eddie for a moment before turning to look at the TV again.

Eddie stared at the back of his uncle’s head, not sure what to say to that. Was it that simple? It felt like he wasn’t allowed to tell anyone that he didn’t know how he felt about something. That he was unsure and vulnerable and scared—it didn’t feel like things were allowed to be that simple.

He didn’t answer Wayne as the TV flicked from image to image painting the dark little trailer in different colours each time. It felt comforting and Eddie appreciated that his Uncle wasn’t smothering him. He was more grateful that Wayne had just… accepted him. He had accepted him like he always did. He hadn’t said anything when Eddie started to grow his hair out or when he got a tattoo, when he flunked school, and now when he had said… he liked men. It had been a surprise to hear himself say those words and there was still deep-rooted shame attached to all of that, but that felt like something he had to unpack on his own. Still, Wayne’s reaction had been the same as it was for all of Eddie’s past transgressions. He’d quietly support him or sigh with worry, but it never seemed to change anything between them.

Eddie shifted awkwardly from foot to foot and went to the fridge. He pulled out a can of beer and walked it over to his uncle, touching the cold metal to Wayne’s forearm so he’d look up.

“Thanks,” he muttered gruffly, looking at Eddie briefly before redirecting his attention to the TV.

“Yeah,” Eddie replied quietly, wiping his nose and touching his uncle’s shoulder before stepping away, “thanks.”

PT3

#we stan Wayne Munson in this house #Wayne Munson = best uncle #Eddit is dumb cause he spent all of last fic (the week prior to this)#proclaiming that he loved queer ppl cause they were treated like he is #he thinks queer people are cool but now he's like I CAN'T BE QUEER #that's just cause he's scared of what that means and he has to face so many horrors all the time #doesn't like being hated and sometimes the RSD gets to him #the “being straight” thing is like armor that has just been stripped away and he's been shown he can be hurt here too #he'll learn and grow and eventually love his queer-ness #my_writing #steddie #steve and eddie #eddie munson #steddie fic #my writing #wayne munson #I'm bored so take pt2 early

163 notes · View notes

weministertomonsters · 4 months

Text

Naga Father (Araza) x gender-neutral reader

Anyone remember that short monster imagine I did of a naga and a babysitter? Well, I expanded it a bit. :)

•─────✧─────•

You're looking forward to a free weekend, but when you receive a call on Friday night for a babysitting job, you decide to take it. As much as you'd like to take some time for yourself, you do need the money.

"You come highly recommended," the gruff voice on the other end says.

"Well, I'm good with kids," you reply, idly curling a strand of your kinky hair through your fingers. "And I often clean up the house a little if I have the spare time. It really helps out the parents who work late or have extra shifts."

"I will see for myself. Come by at eight tomorrow morning," the man- or at least you think it is- says, and hangs up.

Oof. So it's one of those parents then. You can almost predict how the day is going to go. You're exhausted, so after you feed your cat, you have a quick dinner and all but collapse onto your bed. You sleep so deeply that your alarm shrieking in your ear barely pierces through your dreams.

Groaning, you peel your face off your pillow and try to remember what you set it for. Great. You hop out of bed and shamble into the kitchen to fix some coffee. After that and a warm shower, you feel much better. You drag a brush through your hair and put on some casual, comfortable clothes, perfect for chasing after kids all day.

It's not often you babysit a single child, so this is going to be interesting.

You get there on time, but spend almost a full minute lingering in your car, wondering if you maybe got the wrong address. The house is huge, with white brick walls, big windows, and a sprawling yard that looks a little ramble-y and overgrown. You don't spot a single wayward toy.

Well, there's only one way to know. You get out and trudge up the crunchy gravel path. The doorbell echoes through the house but you don't hear any footsteps. The door swings open suddenly and… Well, you're not looking at a person, that's for sure.

A well-sculpted human torso tapers off into a snake tail that coils so far back that you can't see the end of it. His eyes are a bright gold with slitted pupils.

You're pretty certain this is the guy you spoke to on the phone yesterday. It's not hard for you to guess that he answered the door like this as a shock factor. To see how you'd react to a non-human, to judge if you're one of those paranoid types to start screaming about demons and evil.

You definitely aren't. The reason you're staring isn't because you've never seen one of his kind before (though you haven't because the town you live in is really small), but because he answered the door without a stitch of clothing on. You'd think he'd at least wear a shirt, but no.

He looks fresh out of the shower too, with the ends of his dark hair dripping water onto his tan skin. He has claws and scales on his forearms. Good lord, he's built nicely, with a bit of lean muscle.

"Have I surprised you?" He drawls, and you note the muted lisp of the 's', which you caught on the phone as well.

"Yes. Um, I mean no." You chuckle nervously, tucking your hands into your pockets. "It's cool."

Your eyes are still lingering shamelessly on his chest. It's his fault for answering the door like that, you reason. He's practically inviting you to look.

"Well, come in," he says, slipping to the side and opening the door a little wider. "Remove your shoes."

"Thanks." You step in and slip your shoes off, marveling at how clean the floors are.

For a moment, you just observe each other. He takes you in, an eyebrow hitching slightly. You look… Like a rainbow. Your afro is dyed in chunks so it looks like a fluffy snowcone. You're wearing a bright t-shirt with overalls that have a cute white rabbit embroidered on the front. Your socks are covered in funky polka dots, but they're very comfy. You've learned from experience not to put on jewelry for babysitting jobs, but you never go anywhere without the dainty three-leafed clover necklace your mother gave you years ago.

"Have I surprised you?" You echo his earlier words.

"You look very… Human," he responds with a slight curl of his lip.

"Let me guess, you don't like my kind?"

"Not really, no. However I cannot shift my schedule further, so I require someone to watch my son. And my community has an annoying lack of babysitters. Thus, you."

"Me," you echo with a slight smile.

He turns and slithers into the kitchen. You can hear a muted hiss as his scales scrape over the floorboards.

"Um, am I early?" You ask, even though you know you're right on time.

"I leave in half an hour," he says as he pours a cup of tea. "I want to observe how you interact with my son."

"I understand. I promise to take good care of him, Mr…? I didn't catch your name yesterday."

"Because I never gave it to you. Mr. Araza."

"Tobi," you reply.

"And how do I address you?" He asks, turning to sweep his gaze over your frame.

You know that you're perfectly straddling the fence between feminine and masculine, and you like to keep it that way. With some people, it's fun to see them fume and struggle to fit you into a box or label. With Mr. Araza, you can tell he's just curious.

"Just Tobi is fine," you reply with a small smile.

He nods. His tongue flickers out of his mouth and that startles you. It's just so pink and thin, with a delicate pronged tip. You clear your throat and try to look casual. His eyes narrow slightly and you pray he can't use his tongue to figure out what exactly you're feeling or the way your hormones just spiked, or you're fucked.

"I take suppressants," he says like he just read your thoughts, moving close enough that you catch a hint of the fragrant tea in his hand.

"It is tiring to live in a world saturated by human hormones. Your kind is terrible at hiding their true reactions. As such, I suppress my abilities to give me some peace of mind. You can keep your twisted desires to yourself."

Oh wow, okay.

You don't try to defend yourself but you do take a small step back. You don't like feeling cornered. His eyes take in every small detail and you have a feeling that even on suppressants, he can read you just fine.

"Papa?" A small voice speaks up, and both of you look towards the kitchen doorway.

Mr. Araza's son is so dang cute, is your first thought.

You've never seen a young naga before and he's only five. His tail is small, almost stubby. He has no claws or scales other than the ones on his tail. On the whole, he looks far less intimidating. He's also wearing a shirt.

His pupils are wide and curious as his eyes fall on you, but they shrink as soon as he looks at his father.

"I finished," he says softly, scooting closer and holding up a small handwriting booklet.

As soon as Mr. Araza takes the booklet, he shoots out of the room, terribly clumsy. You've seen videos of actual snakes on tiles, their bodies twisting but going nowhere. He sort of looks like that. It could be cute, but more than anything, it's uncomfortable to watch him struggle knowing that he lives in a house that's almost exclusively covered in sleek wood floors.

"Are you punishing him?" You ask softly. "I mean, it's none of my business, but-"

"Yes," Mr. Araza says, staring down at the page with a frown.

The letters and numbers his son has traced are wobbly.

"That's really not bad," you say quietly. "For a five-year-old."

"He ate a mouse."

"What?" You sputter.

"That's why I'm punishing him. He caught and ate a mouse."

You try very hard to school your expression and you don't know what to say. You already guessed that nagas are carnivores, so you're not sure whether eating mice is a bad thing and why.

Mr. Araza sighs, looking rather aggravated as he closes the booklet and tosses it on the counter.

"Unregulated food sources are strictly forbidden. I cannot know what that mouse has eaten and if it is clean or not. He knows this, but ate it anyway."

"Oh. I will, um, make sure he doesn't eat any mice or err, spiders or anything else." You say.

That seems to please him. "I have a chart on the fridge with his nutritional needs and portion sizes. The meat is in the fridge. Let it thaw to room temperature but do not cook it. Not even a little. Understood?"

"Crystal clear," you say.

He huffs. "I will be in my room getting ready. Do acquaint yourself with him. He is in his room, first door on the left."

You do as he has asked, climbing the stairs up to the kid's room. The fact that nagas move on their tails means that he's a bit shorter than human kids his age. With that in mind, the doorknob is way too high up.

You hear the hiss of scales coming up the stairs. The more you think about it, nothing in the house is accommodating to nagas. You're pretty sure if you checked the bathroom you'd find a human toilet.

"Um, Mr. Araza?" You turn to him.

He pauses in the doorway of his bedroom and glances over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"Why are you living in this house? It's a nice place, but it's built for humans," you say. "I understand if your reasons are private, but what about your son? Don't you want things to be easy for him?"

Mr. Araza blinks, double eyelids closing over his eyes for a moment. "Most of the world is built to accommodate your kind alone. I will not have my son fumbling in unfamiliar surroundings. He will learn how to manage."

"Isn't it a little soon?" You ask, but all you get as a response is the thud of his door closing.

You blow out a breath and knock on his son's bedroom door.

"Can I come in?"

"Okay," a small, shy voice replies.

You push open the door and step into a cluttered, but clean room. Colorful drawings are stuck all over the walls and most of them feature two-legged blobs. Humans. You idly wonder what his father thinks of that.

"Hi," you say to the boy. "Sam, right?"

His bed is piled high with stuffed animals and blankets, stacked up around him like a little nest. He nods, curly hair falling into his eyes.

"Are you going to watch me while Papa works?" He says, his lisp far more pronounced than his father's.

"Yes. We can do anything you want," you tell him.

"Can we make pictures?" He says, eyes going round.

"Sure!" You say.

He has an entire setup, a scratched and worn table, and a giant box filled with coloring pencils, crayons, small jars of poster paint, and oil pastels. It's pretty messy, and you make a mental note to sort everything out nicely later.

He takes a piece of paper and gives you one as well, and throws himself enthusiastically into it. His tongue flickers out of his mouth subconsciously, and you try not to jump each time.

"What are you drawing?" You ask him after a while

"A tree!" He says, and points at a darker, tangled shape in the branches. "And that's Papa when he rescued a cat."

"That's nice of him to do," you say.

He nods, smearing green oil pastels to make grass and leaves. "The lady wasn't nice. Papa gave her the cat but she called him a bad word and walked away. She didn't say thank you!"

"Some people are meanies," you say. "But I'm sure the cat was grateful."

You see movement in the corner of your eye. Mr. Araza is standing in the doorframe, putting on a tie. He's wearing a crisp suit with gold cuff links that match his eyes.

"I'm going to send your Papa off, okay? Keep coloring," you say, standing up.

"His mother used to color with him like that," Mr. Araza says as you near him.

"Really. I think we'll get along okay," you murmur as you follow him down the stairs. "Sam is sweet."

"You wouldn't like to see him when he's hungry," Mr. Araza huffs with a flicker of amusement. "I will call at midday."

With that, he leaves. You turn to head back up the stairs. Sam is done with his picture.

"Do you want to do another one?" You ask, and he nods eagerly.

This is going to be a piece of cake.

Part 2

#exophilia #monster x reader #monster x human #naga

108 notes · View notes

lizzyk137 · 1 year

Text

Baby's Secret- An Agent Gibbs Fic (Gibbs X Reader)

Description: After keeping your relationship a secret, what will it take for Gibbs to admit your his. Warnings: Mentions of bombings, swearing, hospital, fluff

(Part One) Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Dinner at Gibbs place was great, and it certainly wasn't food you both were devouring.

The next few months kept you busy with new cases, therapy sessions and at-home date with Gibbs. Gibbs wasn't one to leave his house much when he was home from work. He was stubborn, stating he goes out enough at work that he doesn't need to on his days off, and he stays with that statement no matter how much you try to change his mind.

Now you didn't mind staying home with Gibbs. It was relaxing and brought a calm over you that you needed after a stressful job, plus, some of the activities were very entertaining. But you wanted more.

As time went on, and your relationship stayed a secret from the team, due to Gibbs breaking one of his own rules, you were starting to get irritated that it didn't seem like he wanted people to know about you. On cases he always stayed a far enough distance away from you so no one could assume and reserved to checking on you when you were out of work when you got hurt. He also never expressed how he felt about you. He was a man of few words and you could feel that he cared about you when you were alone but you also know that things could be very much different as they were presented to you. And as good as he made you feel, he also equally was hurting you.

"Where are you going?" He asked six months into your relationship. It was a quiet Sunday morning, and it was gorgeous out, so you thought of going out and enjoying it.

"I'm going to the farmers market with Tim." You had answered back as you grabbed your purse and a reusable bag.

"McGee?" You could hear him getting up from his chair.

You turned around to meet his eyes, "Yes McGee, we always go to the farmers market on our days off."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. We've been doing it for the last year." You laughed.

"Oh." You walked up to him and gave him a peck on the lips, hoping his scowl would wipe away from his face, but it stayed.

"I'll be back in a few hours. See you!"

You didn't realize that day would leave to you two having to expose the very secret Gibbs had hidden for months.

"Y/N, look at this!" McGee was holding up a poster for an old video game.

"Wow, twenty dollars? I don't know if it's a steal or a rip-off." You laughed as he handed you the framed poster and reached into his wallet for cash. He paid the merchant and grabbed the poster back.

"Defiently a steal for me, the starting price online for this is $100. So where to next, Y/N?"

"There is a cute little stall selling plushies that I was eyeing, if that's okay?" He nodded, and let you lead.

You headed over to the stall when you felt a pair of eyes on you in the crowd. You scanned the area but didn't seem to find anyone out of the ordinary. You reached your stall, and you and Tim were checking out the plushies when you felt the same feeling as before on you.

"Tim, I think someone is watching us." You whispered as you held up a small plush bat.

"Really?"

You showed him the plush bat, "Yeah, while we were walking over here and now. No one seems out of the ordinary. I might just be paranoid. What do you think for Abbie?"

He nodded, and you held the bat in your arms. "I'll keep an eye out." You nodded back to him and grabbed a cute orange kitten plush.

"I think I want this!" You smiled up at him, trying to make the air a bit lighter.

His lips morphed into a smile, "Well then, I guess we better get it. It's on me since you bought me coffee."

"Aw, Tim! That's sweet of you, thanks!" You showed the merchant your items and they tallied them up and you both paid. "Alright, I think it's lunch time!"

Tim stood next to you, looking around. "I feel it too. Lets head to another stall, I don't like this feeling of being watched.

"Sure." You took a step forward when you felt and heard a sudden blast behind you. Warm air hit you, shoving your body forwards as you flew through the air, body tumbling as soon as it touched back down to the ground. Wood flew everywhere around you, as you tried to get up to look at the damage, when you felt another blast from another stall besides you as the world grew black.

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

Gibbs was frightened. He hadn't been this frightened in a long time. Two of his teammates were lying unconscious in the hospital from some lunatic setting of a bomb and your condition wasn't the greatest as he watched your heart monitor bounce around irregularly.

"Hey, boss." Tony's voice interrupted his thoughts. "McGee just woke up. The doctor is checking him over and once he's done, we can talk to him."

The doctor came out an hour later and let the team know they could go in to see their friend.

"Take your time but what happened, McGee?" Ziva asked.

"Everything was normal until we got to our last stall. Y/N said she felt like someone was watching us but she didn't see anyone, and neither did I. I felt it as we were leaving but it was too late." McGee looked worried as he explained what happened to Gibbs. "I didn't see anyone but if I had just suggested we leave right off then she wouldn't here."

"Hey, nothing could have stopped those bombs from going off." Tony said gently, seeing McGee getting worked up as his heart monitor started beeping louder.

"Bombs? There was more than one? I only remember one of them."

Ziva nodded, "There was two. One at the stall you went too and one that was behind it."

They eventually left McGee after calming him down, and headed back into the waiting room.

"Tony, see what Abby has on the bomb. Ziva, figure out what stalls McGee and Y/L/N visit every week this past year."

"Past year? McGee didn't say anything about the past-"

"Just do it, Ziva!" Gibbs barked out.

"On it."

Gibbs circled around back to your room and watched you lying there. "We'll get them for you. I won't stop until I catch those bastards. Wait for me just a little longer."

Gibbs didn't visit the hospital for the next few days as he stayed up going over every little detail they had and trying to discover new leads. You still had yet to wake up, which fueled him even more to find whoever did this to you.

"Gibbs, I found something." Abby said over the phone.

"I'll be down." He said and ended the call. "Abby has a something, let's go."

The elevators chimed and as he and the team stepped off and into Abby's lab. "Whatcha got, Abs?"

"I found something in the security cameras. The shop that Y/N went to every week was this one here," Abby pulled up the shop's logo on the screen, "it's a small business that sells stuffed animals. She had been eyeing this cat for weeks. With my findings on the surveillance and evidence from the bomb, it looked like whoever made the cat used it as a trigger. Once out of the safe zone, it set off both bombs. The second one was delayed due to the stall being moved slightly during set up." She showed a few slides of the stuffed cat, one that looked similar to her cat that had just past away, and then to a video display of how the bombs worked. "I did some more digging, and found that the maker for these stuffed animals come from a company located just out of D.C."

"We spoke with the shop keepers and they said they draw up the designs and then send them out to a group that then goes around to manufacturers." Tony said.

"Tony, Ziva, go to the factory and interview the workers."

"Wait! I can do you one better." Abby said. "I managed to hack into their surveillance cameras, courtesy of McGee, and found exactly who worked on the stuffed cats for our small business. He goes by the name, James Harrington." Abby hit a key on the keyboard pulling up his James' social media. "It looks like Y/N and him had gone out a few times but about six months ago they haven't communicated or gone out."

"Let's bring him in." Gibbs said through a clenched jaw.

Gibbs was pumped for the interrogation and with a bit of yelling and one slam of the desk, James was putty in his hands. Spilling everything from how you rejected him after a few dates, and that you were always around McGee and he was furious that you could be with anyone but him.

"She always was with him. It was disgusting to watch them together every Sunday. I had to teach her boyfriend a lesson." James spat.

Gibbs eyes narrowed at the word boyfriend. "Well lucky for you, her boyfriend gets to ruin your life. Have fun in prison, while I get to continue dating her." He got up and slammed the interrogation room door closed and headed straight to the hospital, ignoring the shocked looks from Ziva and Tony.

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

Gibbs pulled your hand closer to him and rested his cheek on it as he clasped it in his. Ever since he got the confession out of James, he had been by your side waiting for you to wake up.

Ziva, Tony and McGee watched from the door way, Gibbs oblivious to the three of them watching which was very much unlike him.

"I can't believe they're dating. How did we miss this?" Ziva whispered.

"What I wanna know is how." McGee answered back.

Tony chuckled, "I bet it was after they went 50 Shades of Grey during that undercover mission."

"Do you think they've been together that long?" Ziva questioned. "That was like half a year ago."

"It explains why Gibbs avoids her during cases."

"But why keep it a secret?" McGee asked.

"Maybe it's because they're happy with just each other." Tony replied, watching Gibbs gently kiss your forehead.

Gibbs watched as you slept peacefully. You looked like an angel, to him you always did, but especially now because you looked so peaceful. You were always peaceful when you slept. He could watch you for hours, running his fingers through your hair as you cuddled into him, your head on his chest.

He closed his eyes, feeling days worth of no sleep catching up to him.

"Jethro?" He thought it was your voice, but how could it be? You've been unconscious for the past week.

"Jethro?" The voice was clearing up and it definitely sounded like you. But it had to be a dream, he thought.

"Jethro!" Your voice was much louder this time, enough that Gibbs' head sprang up off the mattress and his eyes opened to meet yours.

"Y/N?" Gibbs said shakily.

You were sitting up, your hand still in his, with a big smile on your face. "You've been asleep for a few hours, you're quite cute when you're sleeping." You giggled.

Gibbs looked at you in disbelief for a second before he crushed you to his chest, holding you tightly. "Don't you ever leave me like that again." He whispered. "From now on, anywhere you want to go I'll follow. I can't lose you."

You pulled him away and cupped his cheek. "Are you okay with that?"

"This whole thing has made me realized how much I care for you. I'm not letting you walk out that door again, especially when you want me there."

He watched you smile, cupped the back of your head and placed a sweet kiss on your lips.

"No more hiding?"

"No more hiding."

Taglist:

@crimeshowjunkie

@slxmw

So sorry this took forever! So many things in my life popped up half way through writing this! The second half of this doesn't do the story line justice. Let me know what you think down below!!

#yjethro gibbs x reader #ncis gibbs #jethro gibbs #gibbs #ncis x reader #ncis imagine #ncis fandom #ncis #gibbs x reader

358 notes · View notes

annab-nana · 8 months

Note

okay so I suck at making requests but want to support you the most I can so here I am hihi. can you write something with “hi. i am here to be your nurse.” please? maybe with robin buckley? but you can choose anyone you want ☺️ I love you hihi <3

omg of course and we are 100% doing this with robin! i love her and get so little requests for her so i was soooooo excited to see this one! i love you too sweetheart <333

warnings: not proofread, rambly nervous robin, wound cleaning, set in s4, a little bit of a longer blurb

❀ masterlist ❀

once the lot of you had dashed over to max's after leaving the upside down, everyone took a collective breather. steve, robin, and max were checking in on nancy and dustin was further explaining his plan to eddie, lucas and erica adding in their own aiding commentary. you took the opportunity to slip off to the bathroom.

even though every single one of them was a friend to you, you just couldn't truly relax and think with so many people around you. you also had bigger issues on your hands.

"shit," you hissed when you slowly and carefully pulled your pants down to reveal the damage the demobats—dustin's term, not yours—did to your thighs. they did a number on both, but your left truly took a worse hit than your right. "no more shorts for me for a while i guess."

glancing around to see what you could use to help your wounds, your eyes landed on the sink before you reached to turn the faucet on. first, you needed to get this clean. there was no telling what those things had and could've transferred over to you.

a knock pulled you from your focus.

"hey, it's robin," the girl announced. "max gave me some supplies to help you and steve clean up."

"is steve out there too?" you were comfortable with robin seeing you without pants on and steve wouldn't have been so bad. you would rather it be robin alone though.

"it's just me."

you let out a small sigh in relief. "okay, you can come in."

she opened the door only a sliver before sliding in. when her eyes met yours, she showed her famous slightly awkward grin. "hi. i am here to be your nurse."

the girl always knew how to put a smile on your face even in the worst of times.

"where do you want me, dr. b?"

she sat the stuff max had given her down on the counter and patted the empty space next to it. "right here will be fine." she then squatted down to open some cabinets, pulling out a large first aid kit that looked very well used. "we hit the jackpot coming to the mayfield's. max's mom has always been super paranoid of a skating injury so we've lucked out."

"i don't know if i consider myself lucky given the events," you mentioned, glancing down at your legs. "but, i do appreciate the positivity."

once she got set up, robin started gently pressing the wet rag to your wounds. your hands gripped harshly at the counter's edge while she whispered gentle i'm sorry's and i'll be done soon's.

she kept her head down, eyes focused on the task at hand, but you couldn't help but watch her. she stuck her tongue out ever so slightly in the most adorable way. her hands were so delicate as they touched you. her soft reassurances filled your heart with warmth and love.

"i really appreciate you doing this by the way." her eyes glanced up to meet yours before looking back down at her work.

"ye-yeah, no problem," she spoke quickly. "what are friends for?"

"oh, you've wounded me, rob," you teased, but it appeared with the way that her face dropped that she misunderstood.

"oh my g- i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to. i'll try to press more gently. i'm sorr-"

"robin, not with that."

"with what then?" sometimes, the girl could be so oblivious.

"what are friends for?" you repeated her words back to her. "i thought we were a little more than that."

"well, you're not just a friend to me. you're like my best friend. like my best best friend. more than steve even, but don't tell him i said that because he would be crushed and i can't deal with him being all down. it's so sad and he gets all mopey and clingy, but not saying that i wouldn't ever be there for him. it's just i-"

you cut her off with a call of her name, her eyes snapping to yours instead of bouncing all over the place as she rambled. "robin."

"yeah?"

"can i kiss you?"

her eyes practically bulged out of her head before she fully processed what you said and nodded in agreement. with a surge forward, your lips were on hers, relishing in the feeling they had wanted for so long. the circumstances weren't the greatest and it was highly likely that neither of you would make it out of this whole vecna thing alive. maybe that's what added to your urgency to kiss her, the fear that you would never be able to.

when you pulled away, robin attempted to fight off her growing grin while you relished in yours.

"i have to admit, i like your bedside manner, buckley."

"let's get you cleaned up and maybe we can do some more of that, yeah?"

"sounds wonderful, dr. b."

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new or join the tag list here!

tagging: @fiction-is-life @jellyfishbeansontoast

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley blurbs #blurbs #x-lulu #❀ lulu ❀#winter wonderland sleepover ✧*:･ﾟ

65 notes · View notes

fromchaostocosmos · 1 year

Text

I keep having this terrible thought.

A thought that haunts me as I read article after article, watch commentary video after commentary video.

As I scour the internet to find almost no mention of absolutely horrific antisemitism found in Hogwarts Legacy.

Antisemitism so bad it read like something take right pages of history book about an pogrom from middle ages.

I find maybe one or two Jewish news sites sadly giving the most mild reactions to it.

What I do find are endless information of JKR's transphobia, the escalation of her transphobia, what she is doing with her money, her dangerous rhetoric, and a break down of anything and everything you might need to know in regards to this realm.

To be clear I'm very happy that so many people are talking her horrific actions and statements and are willing to hold her responsible for that which she says and does. That is good, that is important.

But when tumblr is the only place I see talking about the terrifying antisemitism of this game, where we Jews here have gone in depth multiple times breaking it down to show how very explicit the antisemitism.

How antisemitic choices in even the smallest of details in this game that you might not even notice which just furthers goes to proves how very intentional it all is.

And I can't find anything comparable to what going on here tumblr well I'm a bit at loss for words.

Sure there may be sentence here or a something mentioned in passing there or maybe on the rare occasion some trying to bring attention to what is happening in the comments.

But that is it.

So I'm left thinking a terrible thought, if JKR wasn't transphobic, but the game was still just as antisemitic where would we be. What would happen then. Would even on tumblr anyone care to listen to us.

I don't enjoy this thought, I don't like. I know it is very Oppression Olympics in nature and I hate it.

And at the same time I remember for how long so many of us said hey these books how some major antisemitism problems to only be silenced and essentially be speaking to the void.

Same with when the new movies came, the fantastic beasts set of films, we had the same story of pointing out some major antisemitic problems and again getting told to be quiet, that we are making a mountain out a molehill, being paranoid, seeing antisemitism everywhere, and the other usual exhausting things that get to said us.

And the suddenly like magic one day people decided now is the time to care about the antisemitism in the Harry Potter universe.

Except is felt less like caring about the antisemitism because it is a problem, it adds to the endangering of Jewish people, adds to the further normalization of antisemitism and its various stereotypes and tropes, and so on.

Rather it felt more like we were being used like both a prop and to help prop up other peoples points and very valid issues with the series ad JKR herself. But there wasn't any actual listening to Jewish voices or involving in them.

So I am frustrated, I am hurt, and most of all I tired.

I'm tired of these games that being played our lives.

Being Jewish in Diaspora is like with a sword above your head and it is a matter of high or low that sword is. Well right now that sword is pretty low down and gets ever closer to coming down us.

So I'm tired yes, but I guess a foolish part me also held hope expecting better only to be so bitterly let down.

Unfortunately, disappointment in these dangerous times is just to expensive.

#antisemitism #ignoring antisemitism #hogwarts legacy #fandom antisemitism

88 notes · View notes

skitskatdacat63 · 20 days

Text

Tysm for the tags @monacobasedgirldad @schumigrace @fernandoalonzoo sry im a bit late getting to this lol

Are you named after anyone?

My great great grandmother(I think??), though she was named Katarzyna, and I was born Catherine, but go by Catie obviously(this lowkey annoys my mom lmao, especially bcs if I were to have a nickname, it was supposed to be Cate.)

When was the last time you cried?

Today, over classical music. I think I cry at least once a day 😭 I am very emotional

Do you have kids?

Nope :)

What sports did you play/have you played?

I played soccer when I was a kid. Also does marching band count?

Do you use sarcasm?

All the fucking time, literally constantly. And also we sarcastically bully each other in my family, so I have to pull myself back from accidentally insulting people 😭

What is the first thing you notice about people?

Hmmmm, I feel like ive done this tag game before bcs I remember writing this exact answer. But usually I notice if someone is a good conversationalist or not. Like do they like to lead the convo, do they like to listen to the other people, do they talk too much, too little, are they awkward about it? It's just very interesting to me, bcs I think that kinda thing really does instantly show you if you're going to be compatible with a person(as a friend or more etc.) Cause I talk a lot a lot, and I think it's difficult to get along w people who are untalkative but also people who talk an equal amnt if not more djkfkglg.

What is your eye color?

Just brown!

Scary movies or happy endings?

Scary movies definitely. I mean im not opposed to a happy ending obviously, but that's not really what im always looking for in a movie, I guess? Rn I'm trying to think of my top movies, and man, not a lot of them have happy endings 😭 But I literally just watched two horror movies the past wknd so! Even though they make me paranoid

Any talents?

I think I could go on a rant about anything if you gave me a bit of time. I really think I can just talk endlessly. Is that a skill? Or is it just annoying..? But yeah I'm not sure, but I think I'm pretty good at absorbing information and being able to go on and on about it.

Where were you born?

America rahhh 🦅🦅 I like my state a lot even though I feel like all my peers keep saying "ugh I don't want to be in [insert state] anymore" Smh how dare you

What are your hobbies?

Mostly drawing! I draw both F1 fanart(pretty much all selfmade AUs tho) and ocs. I like writing lore and worldbuilding and meta, but not really writing itself. I like reading fic and watching movies as well. And I think one of the main things I do these days tbh is read about history and keep up with politics. I get more and more involved with it as the days go by, but unlike drawing, I don't really have an outlet for it sigh sigh. So that's why a lot of AUs involve history and random other things, bcs its fun to involve my interests with each other!

Do you have any pets?

Yes I do! Two cats and two dogs. The cats are named Jin and Frank. Jin is basically me in cat form, he's so anxious 😭 and Frank is like my brother, he's such a little bastard who loves to hiss all the time. My dogs are named Maisie and Ruby. Maisie is a menace to society, but she is also the most beautiful dog ever, so I forgive her. Her name makes me laugh bcs she's named after this book character, Maisie Dobbs right? So her name tag says Maisie Doggs

How tall are you?

Around 5'4

Favorite subject at school?

Politics >:) But I'm pretty interested in philosophy as well rn. Unfortunately my love for foreign languages has been slipping in the semester or so, bcs my professors on that side kinda suck. So I've been putting more energy into my other major, and now all I can talk about is history, politics and philosophy, etc etc. It's just a lot of fun and very interesting to me!

Dream job?

Man, sometimes I wish I could just be a student forever, I just want to keep learning all about the world and other things. But I'd like a job that's not too static, something that pushes me out into the world a bit, maybe smth in the government or like a non-profit idk yet!

Ahhhh I'm doing this a bit late so I'm not sure who's done it yet, I feel like mostly everyone has :,) I tag anyone who's interested, like seriously I'd love to see people's answers who I haven't yet!!

#every text post of mine is actually just a cry for help(for someone to let me ramble and rant to them)#I HAVE TOO MANY WORDS #the real reason i often slack on tag games like this is bcs my answers will be too long djfkkgg #also i hate how theres still this latent fear in me doing these that im doxxing myself or smth #i still hesitate giving my full name and all that #scawy!!!! even tho ive def mentioned it i think #catie.rambling.txt

10 notes · View notes

chaosfairy18 · 1 month

Text

On a roll today with Bumswiftery thoughts

So obviously no one can be a newsie forever. You get too old, you can't stay in the lodge anymore no matter how many blind eyes Kloppman is turning to anyone. So you need some idea what you want to do, and Bumlets has had it ever since Flipper has been coughing more and more, looking sick almost all the time. Maybe living in the countryside isn't a perfect solution, but he's sure it would help at least a bit and promises the kid they'd get out eventually, leave the city, live near the coast. (As coughs wrack the frail boy with no real explanation once more, deep in the night. "I promise we'll get out there, Phillip. You'll feel better.")

It becomes even more real as he gets closer to Skittery, sees his episodes first hand. He becomes paranoid, thinks he's being watched and everyone is looking at him, no matter how unlikely. After one of those nights where Swifty had to hold him down so he wouldn't hurt himself - or others - or even run and Bumlets gently talked him down it's the same promise he makes ("Somewhere clean and green and pretty like Jack always says." "You can't tell me you believe in Santa Fe-" "Never said New Mexico. Something closer. Just somewhere with less people, with more freedom to be ourselves. Don't you think it could help?")

And it takes a while, even Tumbler and Flipper are almost aged out when Bumlets, Skittery and Swifty find the money from their new jobs to scrape enough together to make it, but they do.

A while later they find a mostly broken little farmhouse in Pennsylvania, they can afford it, if barely, and start living as self-sufficient as they can. Eventually there are chickens, sheep, a vegetable garden and fields, though Swifty finds out he's allergic to hay and mostly keeps to the garden and herding the sheep. And, eventually, hunting. He has a steady hand and there was a day where he noticed that he's sitting at home, sewing, fixing clothes, tending to the garden, while the others are on the field and he wanted to feel more useful less like a housewife and went out. (Sometimes the comments from the townspeople, jokes about how one of them needs to do all the woman's chores get to him more than he lets on)

They don't go to the market often, but when they do they try to stick together. Skittery's paranoia is better, most days, now that there are less people, but one can never be sure. They get a cat (on Tumbler's insistence, he names her Skittles, you'll never guess who she reminded him of) and a dog, as per Flipper's request, for herding the sheep.

Most days it is great, most days they are happy, sometimes get visits from Kit and Kat (who missed Flipper and Tumbler), sometimes Spot comes with them to make sure they aren't any trouble (and if he's already there why not bring Race). But there are always bad days, no matter how well your intentions are.

It starts with Skittery more closed off than usual, clearly agitated by something. At a tiny argument about where to store some milk he snaps that they never truly love him and that they would eventually get tired or pretending to take care of him out of pity. Of playing house with him when they clearly hate him. The glass breaks and Bumlets, probably more harsh than he should have says. ("Vincent, clean that, I-" But he doesn't get farther as Swifty snaps as well. "I'm not your housewife. Ask me normally or do it yourself. I'm tired of... maybe Michael is right, maybe this is all just us playing something.")

They both storm off, Swifty in his sewing room - Bumlets can hear things breaking - and Skittery somewhere outside. Wondering for a second what he'd done, he runs outside, first seeing Flipper and Tumbler on the stairs, snapping at them to go to their room, then seeing Skittery go into the woods. He has to go after him, it's dangerous, it is getting dark but- He halts near the barn, suddenly overwhelmed. He sinks to the ground, breath getting erratic. Bumlets is tired of chasing after them, keeping everything together. He's exhausted.

But he loves them, punching the ground in frustration before collapsing even further, sobs wracking his body.

What if he only brought them pain, what if his great idea only hurt all of them in the end?

(Flipper later comes out to try and calm him down while Tumbler goes into the woods to find his brother. Bumlets goes, with Flipper, back into the house and first talks to Swifty, then they set out into the woods to find Skittery afterwards)

Whoops, more Angst

#newsies #92sies #bumlets newsies #skittery newsies #swifty newsies #tumbler newsies #flipper newsies #future fic #sad headcanon #honestly they are so sad here but I promise most of the time on the farm is good #bumswiftery #bumswiftery newsies

10 notes · View notes

thepaintedlady00 · 2 years

Text

I'm am by no means a practiced writer 😅 but ever since I finished The Sandman I've had this story in my head. So, I figured I'd jot a bit down and attempt to post it and see how its reviewed 🤷‍♀️ So enjoy and let me know if anyone thinks I should continue it. 😁

***

"You see, she's here just as I promised." Alex sighed, his face twisted with desperation. "Speak to me, please."

I rolled my eyes. Looks like the years haven't changed anything. I thought to myself, eyes still glued to the floor. Silence filled the room, as Alex waited and stayed waiting. After nearly twenty minutes he finally spoke again, voice shaking with frustration, "Why won't you speak to me? I've not asked for gifts or anything, just one word."

Paul set a hand on his shoulder. "Alex..."

"Can you speak to him?" Alex turned to me now. "Convince him to just talk with me?"

I couldn't help the bitter laugh that rose from my chest. "What makes you think he'll listen to me?"

"That mark on your arm!" He shouted. "He gifted you with it and you expect me to believe he did so without a single word to you, with nothing?"

"The years have truly made you just as paranoid as your father, Alex." He sneered down at me. "I've told you this already. He hasn't said a single word to me, not when I got the mark and not a minute after."

"Then why?" He asked, voice reaching a dangerous tone. "Why give you anything in the first place?"

With a scoff I settled back into the stone pillar. "I've answered that question before too."

"It can't have been an accident!" He insisted. "It just couldn't be."

"Look, this conversation has been just riveting, truly, but I think it's over. So, now what?"

Alex looked off, like he hadn't truly thought of this outcome. "Now you go back to the institution."

Anger, fear, and betrayal filled my chest. "Back to my own glass cage? After all those empty promises of freedom?" Guilt painted his face, but I had no need of guilt. "Just as well I suppose, I was starting to feel left out."

"Don't." He warned. "I fully intend to let you go, I just..."

"Just what Alex?" I demanded. "Just intend to dangle freedom in front of me for another 10 years? 20 perhaps? Longer?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't, not without lying to me or himself. With a sigh he turned and left the room. Paul, who sent me an apologetic look, followed with the guards not far behind likely arranging the drive back, but there would be no going back. Not this time.

The silence of the room had shifted now that it was just he and I. It was calmer, not by any means comfortable but more so than before. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks as I steeled myself. "If you do get out," I turned to meet the darkened gaze of the man in the glass. "Make them pay for it. Every second."

As expected he said nothing, but his head tilted in a nod so stiff and minimal I'd almost missed it. A silent understanding passed between us, a promise bound in something I didn't fully grasp, something stronger than the chains that enslaved us both.

When the guards came to retrieve me I looked at him one last time, committing him to memory. "Guess this is goodbye, Sandman."

In his eyes a sorrowful glint flashed, like he somehow knew what I had planned. Like he knew that this goodbye was one I said intending for it to be the last. I smiled at him, to reassure him or maybe myself, and then I followed the guards out of the dark basement and to the car. I took one last look at the mansion. Good luck.

#morpheus x reader #the sandman #dream of the endless imagine #morpheus fanfiction #netflix sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless

260 notes · View notes

midnightstarshadow · 6 months

Text

Hey, hey, guess what?

BPFT!Crescent's reference sheet is done!

(BPFT is my God au, btw!!)

I've never done a reference sheet before so idk if I did this right but I do like how it turned out

You can ask questions about him if you want, my ask box is always open ^^

Okay, now I'm gonna ramble about him so if you don't want spoilers for the fic, you may instead focus intensely on the rendered bit on the left and ignore the rest as well as the stuff under the read more :3

So the lantern glows blue because it's fueled by his magic rather than oil or something like that

Anyone who goes to the mortal realm gets one and it basically lights the path to the task they need to complete down there (Crescent doesn't have a real task tho so it's just a funny light)

Yes, he is wearing cloud pajamas, people tend to headcanon Nightmare's realm as eternally nighttime so that means you get to wear pajamas all the time when you're a demi-god living in his realm like Crescent

This is a medieval fantasy world, but the gates to the mortal realm are partially controlled by the God of Time and so the Gods get stuff from all periods because I fucked up when making Crescent's sheet and forgot to do research Fresh exists to be a menace

The outside of the cloak is fairly plain because the God of Fear is ironically paranoid and stealth is a must, however the galaxies on the inside of the cloak are real stars from Nightmare's realm and they move like a real night sky does (or they would, if I could animate that well)

Nightmare just kinda went "Lemme just pull some stars out of the sky for you" and turned it into a cloak for his son when he was sad one time and now it's Crescent's favourite :)

I spent like.... an hour trying to figure out how to make the stars before giving up and using this image from unsplash, which lets you use images for free. IbisPaint doesn't have many star brushes, unfortunately :(

Cross is there too, though I don't got his design fully fleshed out yet so take the silly little sketch of him

Even though the text is the same for their thoughts, they don't speak the same language

(It's only English for you guys)

Crescent only knows how to speak the Gods' language (which I'm gonna say is now Minecraft Enchantment Table lol) cuz that's what he was raised to speak (and to fuck with you guys <3) and Cross would be using Wingdings

Of course, when it's their perspective, it'll be regular letters for them and those fonts for the other so you get the full experience of a language barrier >:)

Cross wants to pay back Crescent by serving him after he saved his life but Crescent just wants a friend so he never asks for anything and that makes Cross a bit upset lol

He likes helping and can't convey that

Crescent wouldn't mind help tho but he kind of thinks Cross needs to rest after almost dying but he can't convey that either

They want to communicate but they can't lol

Oh! Oh! Oh!

I almost forgot!

Crescent can't travel during the day because his father's realm is the night and Dream unintentionally sends his aura across miles during the day

He wants to be the cool uncle but his aura is very overbearing, especially for a small demi-god :(

Crescent just pulls up his hood and pretends to sleep instead

Cross keeps guard :)

He does think Crescent is a God and that he's probably capable of watching his own back but he likes doing it anyway

#midnight attempts art #undertale #undertale aus #crescent sans #crescent #cross sans #cross #nightmare #nightmare sans #midnight rambles #bpft au #breaking prophecies and fulfilling them au #god au

14 notes · View notes

zeteroxx · 2 months

Text

dni list (about time i made this):

CLARIFICATION: INTERACTING MEANS FOLLOWING, SENDING ASKS, REBLOGGING, LIKING, ETC TO ANYTHING I POST OR REBLOG. IF YOU WANNA REBLOG SOMETHING I REBLOGGED, BUT YOU FIT INTO DNI, REBLOG THE OP's POST. NOT MINE.

proshipper (im 14 ofc i don't wanna see people who are MY AGE being shipped with adults. ive already been sexualized twice, and god thats way more than anyone should have to deal with. twice was wayyyy too many times. twice doesnt sound like a lot, and thats because it isnt, and its still wayyyyyyyyyyyy too many times.)

shotacon (see above)

queerphobic (duh (also im queer))

racist (duh (also im asian))

friends/supporters with/of tosteur-gluteal, theokusgallery, dommarhooober, tazawaki, or pennpenn

friends with the above knowing they are those things (if you dont know ur chill, but do stop being friends with them. if you cant do that, im gonna have to block you (too nervous to keep being friends with you at that point))

neutral on the above topics

anti-endosystem

truscum? (idk if this is the right term but basically people gatekeeping being queer fuck off)

transautistics (for the love of god its not quirky; it sucks massive dick. being autistic sucks. fuck off if you want this shit. you only want it because you dont recognize or care about the fucking landfill of negatives, you just think "awww silly retard so cute and quirky i wanna be like that." FUCK OFF.)

a dick (duh if ur a fuckin asshole no shit i dont wanna interact with you)

anti-palestine or pro-israel (fuck the israeli government; jewish people are absolutely allowed to interact with me though. no hate to jewish people, only to the israeli government and its supporters)

keep in mind that even if you dont fall onto this list, i may block you. this is by no means a complete list. im just a 14 year old who wants to reblog art and maybe post some of its writing/creative works that it does.

also, because I'm paranoid, i wanna make something clear: if i block you, it will most likely stay that way. forever. if ive blocked you, don't try to reach out to me on tumblr. if you know my discord, thats a bit different; im okay with friends reaching out to me there. i doubt this bit will ever come into affect, but still putting it out here.

thats it i guess idfk

wow this was long

#hello tumblr anyways to the shadow realm with a very specific portion of you

9 notes · View notes

anderscim · 9 months

Text

@eventide-roses asked:

I would like to drop in something that has been.....kinda bugging me??? Not really bugging, but idk if you can even make a theory off of it. It's more Xanvid inclined anyway (and ig Teruvid if you squint really hard), but it's something that I found kinda interesting imo

Ask yourself this. How much screentime did David even have before chapter 2? I find it odd (my brother and I joke about him being the "Levi" of chapter 1 - having very little screentime) that he wasn't on screen for.....really most of chapter's 1 daily life, except for when he intervened Teruko and Xander's conversation in the dining hall (where he went on about how there is so much pressure on his shoulders from being looked up to a lot). Keep in mind Teruko knows his optimistic facade is merely an act. Lots of ppl (included myself) think that David only intervened cause he was watching Xander and Teruko, cautious cause one person knew something that they shouldn't have. But that also sounds a little too cautious, wouldn't you say? Sure, as an inspirational speaker, you are expected to be always happy and cheerful, seeing the world through rose tinted glasses. But surely, as a human being, you are also not immune to being sad. His slip up in the introduction just sounded like an introvert to me. Maybe a bit of a bitchy introvert, but not......something worth total contempt from someone. Yet, David is paranoid enough to keep to himself for the majority of chapter 1 and (most likely) just watched Teruko and Xander's interactions carefully. Why would he do this? Obviously he doesn't want anyone else to know about how his facade is just....well, a facade. But it honestly seems like he genuinely values Xander's opinion about him. He doesn't want anything negative to smear Xander's opinion about him. And keep in mind, ever since the killing game was announced, David (most likely) automatically went in his head "Well, it's only a matter before we all die" yet he still desperately tries to keep up his happy go lucky facade, even when he knows he could die the very next day

I found it kinda odd he never really played a big part until after chapter 2, episode 4 where he became the so called 'leader' and started the plan to share secrets again. But wasn't this also after the end of the first trial where he says "I lost hope, I won't bother to keep it up anymore, we are all going to die here" <- paraphrasing rn, don't kill me. And yet he STILL tries to keep up the persona. I remember one blog made a post about how David's plan was actually better than what the cast could've done (sit around the let the motives be revealed or reveal them without permission) which I agree with. But then it backfired and everyone started to gain up on David during the trial. I think the straw that broke the camel's back was when Teruko said David has been faking not only his personality, but also being a good person. Like damn girl, you think he's a bad person just cause you caught him saying a few negative things to himself? It fits with her character of not trusting people, but still. All that was revealed about his 'true true' personality was that he was some mildly bitchy introvert that wanted to sleep in I have no idea where I am going with this, but these are some findings that I thought was interesting enough to share with you (hopefully I'm sending it to the right blog as well). I guess what I'm trying to say is not only does David truly care about Xander, but possibly everyone else in the cast (he probably even had some respect for Teruko, until Xander died, which is a whole other can of worms, but I also think he blames her for Xander's death and her secret he received in chapter 2 only verifies his belief) And (this is also an extremely long stretch but also worth considering) the gag comic that the dev made I think? 2021 ish? Where David received too many letters and he was worried how he would get through all of them? It wasn't even his idea to throw them out, it was Whit's (to which, David even asked him isn't that a little mean?). It shows that David still cares about his fans (again, it's a really big stretch, but still has the character's canon personalities, since the dev themself made it)

first off, thank you for the submission lexi! i hope you don’t mind that i transferred your ask to this blog ^^

and yeah, i noticed these things too, but in my opinion it may mostly be an indication that david is adamant about maintaining his persona and what the cast expects from him.

(take this with a grain of salt)

despite his (at the very least) pessimistic dialogue at the end of chapter one, i think he tries to consistently keep the “ideal image” that the rest of the cast expects from him as the ultimate inspirational speaker—leading the group, presenting that entire plan (despite likely making it up on the spot), etc—in the beginning of chapter two. similar to what you said, i think it’s a very interesting contradiction to have david act so pessimistic and say that they’re “all certainly going to die here,” and then suddenly find him within the next few days leading the group and doing everything he possibly could to keep his plan going. like i mentioned in this older post, david’s plan was likely better than any of the alternatives—and based on the fact he could potentially convince everyone to follow a separate path from what he outlined in ch2 ep4, it’s likely that he wasn’t actually attempting to “foster the right atmosphere for murder to occur,” like he claimed in episode 11.

so if he was trying to help and prevent another murder despite the (very) limited means to do so—despite him clearly saying how they’re all going to die the chapter before—it might point to the fact that david is pressured by his own reputation to act in a way that is fitting for an inspirational speaker, regardless of all of his slip-ups from earlier. after all, david may have felt that it was wrong to watch all of the discourse happening in ch2 ep4 and not do something about it, especially since he has a career that literally helps other people for a living.

however, this internal(?) pressure could imply that he sets unrealistic expectations on himself to maintain that image—which might explain why, despite his slip-up in the prologue only showing us that he was more pessimistic and lazy than the cast expected, he was paranoid enough to check on xander and teruko. as implied from the MV and all of the secrets that it has, there’s a lot of evidence that points to david not feeling human (the dolls, the albino mouse / arabidopsis / footnote 2)—instead, he thinks of himself as a sort of “model organism” and someone who’s supposed to hold up an ideal for everyone else to follow. if this is true, this may explain why he felt cautious enough to go out of his way and monitor(?) the two people who may know something past his persona/reputation—true, it is only human to feel negative emotions and express them outwardly, but in david’s case he may hold incredibly high expectations for himself as a role model and pretend that he’s immune to those emotions. after all, he doesn’t feel like he’s human.

i also agree on the “he at the very least had an iota of respect for the rest of the cast at one point” part <-paraphrased. no specific evidence for this but i might get to it later

i hope you get what i mean. (-.-;) thank you again for the submission!

#bagel’s asks #bagel’s train of thought #drdt #danganronpa despair time #despair time #david chiem #fangan #fanganronpa #slightly shorter post #again thank you for the ask!

28 notes · View notes