#toxic friend pretends not to care much. but later on feels even more horrible and realises how bad she had treated her friend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alavestineneas · 4 months

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Glass and mirrors

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader summary: There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one. warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of mental illness, narcissism, blonde men who need therapy, unhinged women, people in shitty relationships and toxic industries word count: 4.6k PART TWO IS HERE

author's note: Hello and welcome to our small community of people who have fallen victim to the charming (and evil) blonde man! This fic is heavily inspired by the edits of models that pop up on my ticktock feed every day. Shout out to them and the talented editors who bless my eyes with their creations. As for YN this time, prepare to be on quite a ride because she, surprise-surprise, is evil! In my head, there has to be at least one victor who feels no remorse at all; they can't all be morally good (and relatively sane) people. Also, the obsession with beauty in this fic is, in fact, intentional, so bear with me. Feel free to comment or insult the author in the comments, but only if you are creative with it. Enjoy and see you in part 2!

In all of her short childhood, she always loved mirrors. Her grandma used to joke about it with her old friends while they shared lunch at the factory: ''That empty-headed child wants to do nothing but stare at herself all day.'' The women would laugh, their raspy voices making the glid, already filled with toxic fumes to the brim, hotter. YN didn't mind; she would pretend not to hear them, clinging to the machinery in front of her instead. She would get out of here sooner or later, and she'd see whose laughter would be left echoing all through the narrow streets.

She wasn't born to rot in this place like these people were; YN was sure of that. Not with a face like hers, with manners she taught herself from the bright magic box in their cramped commune apartment, where a few times a year the government played the show. It was supposed to be a punishment, YN reminded herself each time, but it didn't look like one. She watched the children eat more food than she had seen in a month and then cry on the stage in front of millions. She wouldn't cry if she was there, that was for certain. People die every day here, but none of them get to dress up in the jewels provided by the wealthiest people she has ever seen.

It was funny how they had all the money in the world and still chose to dress so horribly. Mismatched fabrics and smudged colours on their faces, like the colours of the lake near her house—the factories polluted it with dyes, turning the water green, purple, and sometimes even pink. That's how she got her old grey dress to be such a pretty lavender colour. It didn't matter that everyone at school laughed at her, even Miss Kyla; she was horrendously ugly anyway, her hair resembling the colour of unwashed underwear. YN wore her dress with pride, mimicking the voice of the funny multicolour-haired man on the screen, chatting with long o's and a's.

That's how she ended up here, on the first floor of the newly renovated training centre, with a drink in her freshly manicured hand. She had two hours before her stylists would need her again—a time designated for sleep, which she apparently so greatly lacks. YN doesn't care; she went without sleep for much longer than two days. Instead, she does what she loves the most—turns on a shiny screen and watches the golden letters appear: the 15th Annual Hunger Games.

It starts with reaping, as always, but YN skips that part—she doesn't like seeing herself in those dirty rags, although, as papers would later state, ''nothing could make this girl ugly, even if a potato sack was put on her body.'' She likes interviews better. Luckily, the wait is not very long; soon enough, her favourite host pops up, his hair shimmering with sea green.

''And now, our dear viewers, I am more than pleased to announce our next tribute from District 1—please let her hear how excited we are to meet her!'' His voice booms through the theatre as the crowd erupts into applause.

YN moves gracefully, a beaming smile on her face matching that of a host. Her gloved hands wave at the supposed people in front of her as if they were guests at her birthday party. But most importantly, dress. The one she chose herself, arguing over it with her stylist for the last few hours, the one that fitted her perfectly. Capitol enough to appeal to the audience, district enough to highlight that she isn't one of them—she is something new, undiscovered, and worth keeping an eye on. It's almost not a dress at all—the sparkling, sheer fabric of beautiful white, with stars gathering at her chest and bottom to finish the ''almost naked'' look. And the crowd goes crazy for it. People shout, and the splashes of the cameras blinding her create a new melody that is so unfamiliar to YN's ears. Admiration. The thing she craved for so long.

''Alright, alright,'' Lucky Flickerman smiles, gesturing for the crowd to settle down. ''We don't want to scare her off now, do we?'' He turns to her, a microphone in hand. ''What's your name, sweetheart?''

''YN Y/L/N. And I am afraid you can't scare me off, no matter how hard you try. The thing is, I am here to stay,'' she jokes, cocking an eyebrow at the man beside her.

''Oh, how I love your confidence! Now tell me—we heard you are a volunteer—the first in the history of District 1! Are there any special ties to the girl who was supposed to stand here tonight, or what's going on?''

''Well, I was dying to see you in person, of course—no pun intended.''

Oh, there weren't any ties to the girl, or the boy, for that matter. No, YN simply wanted to go at her peak chance of winning—countless years of secret preparation in the factory; working a night shift after school and full days of weekends; hours of studying every plant and animal known to mankind—all to ensure that she wouldn't waste her chance like most kids here did.

''That's an honour coming from your lips; we are happy to see you in the Capitol, Miss Y/L/N. Since you came here by choice, what strategy are you planning on using in the arena? Maybe something tied to your district's craft?''

''If you promise to keep this between us, I'll confess—I will use my charms to make everyone fall in love with me and watch them fight by promising the winner a kiss—and then I will take it from there.'' YN turns to face the lights, staring directly into the camera for a few seconds. The crowd laughs once more, some going so far as to cheer and whistle in excitement. ''But in all honesty, I think I have a fair shot—I would win in a day if it meant the unlimited supply of those amazing cupcakes with sprinkles on top.''

''Well, in that case, you should definitely get a good rest this night—you are not the only one who got your eye on them! Ladies and gentlemen, prepare for the Cupcake Games tomorrow, and don't forget to sponsor this lovely girl right here if you want to see her win! And now, a short word from our sponsors.''

Cupcake jokes are still funny to her, even after two years, although she got sick of them a week after her victory and was just as sick of all the titles papers came up with to fit her into the candy girl box. It served her well, for which she is grateful; the sponsors did send her a shitton of things, although mostly useless.

Next is the introduction of everyone else; YN doesn't care to look at it for more than just a few seconds, speeding it up to maximum. It's boring to no end—how do Capitolees watch it every year with such excitement? She stops to look only when her face appears on the screen, covered in crimson blood.

She counted six canons when she finally stopped to take a breath in and look at her surroundings. That was about right, although YN didn't count how many times she pulled a knife out of somebody's still-warm body and lurched into another nearby. The sand soaked up the blood fast, she noticed, stepping over the pile of what used to be her competitors and walking towards the cone-shaped something. Nobody in sight—each one of the ''better'' kids is now dead without a chance to kill each other, to kill her, and ''others'' will die like flies under the hot sun of what looked like a desert. YN noticed that some even left behind the given jackets; she collected them before stepping into the Cornucopia, claiming them as her own. Not everyone grew up in hot factories, she thought to herself, so they have no chance of knowing how cold it gets at night.

YN doesn't like how the uniform looks on her; the T-shirt hangs around her frame too loosely. It's evident that she didn't eat enough back then, but it was tolerable. The dried blood looked worse; with her stoic face and eye colour, the streams looked too grotesque, almost unserious; it didn't fit the look she was going for. Her hands itch to wipe it before YN remembers that it's non-existent now—the girl on the screen is just a recording. She forwards a little more, looking for the commentary of the first night from the hosts—their excitement and praise never get old—but hears knocking at her door just as she is about to press play. YN glances at the clock—it's too early for the prep team, so it must be someone else—and turns off the TV just to be sure she heard it right.

When the knocking continues, she shouts a quick ''Come in,'' after checking her reflection on the now dark screen. ''Ah, Maggie!''

''How many times do I have to repeat that my name is Mags, not Maggie? Not Mags with fangs either, to be clear. Just Mags.''

''But everyone calls you that! And I want to be special,'' YN whines, laying back on the sofa.

It's Mags. YN likes Mags. Mags is the only girl besides her on the victors' list. Mags is the one who is always down to eat lunch together or to watch the new collection in the magazines. She is funny and down to earth, and, most importantly, Mags doesn't take bullshit from anyone.

''Even more special?'' Mags smiles, opening the fridge to look for something edible. There isn't much; they both know that YN would never eat something to ruin her figure. ''I saw your photoshoot on the street today. It's beautiful.''

''Thank you,'' YN smiles. She doesn't remember which one of her campaigns was supposed to air today, but it doesn't matter. ''Are you here for the promo again?''

The curly-haired woman nods, not looking up from the shelves. ''I hate it. I wish they would just leave me alone, so I can go home and forget about all of this.''

YN is always weirded out by such comments from Victor from 4 but never says anything. Not everyone was born to be in front of the camera; if that were the case, her talent wouldn't be so special anymore. ''It's our job, Maggie. They'll never leave us alone.''

''I know.'' Mags sighed, planting her body on the sofa beside her.

They are different, but YN thinks it's better that way. They are the same age, both 20, and that's about the only thing that ties them together. YN watches as her friend's chest rises and falls as she stares at the ceiling, her long, curly hair in some type of twist. YN would never style it like that, but Mags doesn't ask, so she stares at her in silence, trying her hardest not to compare them. She knows what type of conclusion will sparkle in her brain, but she doesn't want to admit it. Mags is her friend, her only good friend, so something inside YN fights hard to leave her alone. It's an unusual feeling, almost foreign, but YN wants to make an exception. She thinks Maggie deserves it.

''Are you okay?'' the woman asks her, finally snapping out of her trance. ''You are less talkative than usual.''

''Oh, yeah—just a little tired from work, that's it.''

Work. It's not the type of work people can really get tired from, and if anybody thinks otherwise, they never worked a day in District 1. Sometimes, YN can still feel the burning cloud of steam hitting her face when she closes her eyes. The work she does in Capitol is child's play—photoshoots, interviews, promotional campaigns, and runways. She is the only one with this kind of hectic schedule, the only one who is interesting enough for the general public to want to see her everywhere they go. Multiple shows a day wasn't uncommon; photoshoots until five a.m. were basically her usual routine; she did so many of them that she never remembered the brand name for more than an hour.

''Well, I hope I don't interrupt your me-time,'' Mags notes. ''Panem knows you need it. ''

''You worry too much about me. Better tell me about how life is in 4—anything new?''

There is probably nothing exciting, but it feels nice to listen to somebody talk with such love for their home as Mags does. It's also a great opportunity. YN catches every subtle expression and every movement of her friend with attentive eyes, making sure to parrot them later. She noticed from the recording today that her speech misses a certain effortlessness.

Curl and twist, curl and twist—YN has learned the pattern by now, sitting in front of the gigantic mirror, surrounded by a team of stylists. Hair, make-up, nails, and toes—five people work hand in hand for her to appear for two minutes on the long podium. The backstage is loud, and a lot is going on—last-minute changes, alterations, and quick touch-ups. YN doesn't bother to look around; she closes today like a face of the collection, and after she is done with this podium, the day is finally coming to an end.

''Oh, YN, darling, here you are!'' The bald man in his forties appears on the horizon of her peripheral vision, clasping his unnaturally white hands together. ''How are you doing, my little star? Anything you need?''

She is irritated to no end; her team booked seven shows for her today; she hadn't had anything to eat in the past six hours; and the loud music makes her head throb. But she doesn't voice any of that—nobody really wants to know how she is feeling.

Just like she guessed, the man doesn't wait for her response. ''There have been some changes in the order today, sweetheart. Jenovia will be closing today, and you will walk in her dress instead,'' the man says, turning to face her styling team. ''Change the hair to fit, and take off the blue in her make-up—it won't match. Good luck!''

''Do what he says,'' YN announces, her mouth twitching just a little. She is furious. To have that blonde bitch Jenovia walk in the best dress of the collection YN inspired? Over her dead body. Or, should she say, over Jenovia's? She will figure it out but do so later. Now there are only four girls before her, so she needs to be ready.

''Three, two, one! Go, go!'' the stage coordinator shouts, opening the curtain for her.

Right and left, hip and hand, followed by the strong clicking of her five-inch heels. The music is even louder here, with the beets vibrating through the runway and pouring into her bloodstream. She doesn't pay any attention to the glass floor underneath her. Surprisingly, her training before games helped her model more than one could guess. YN doesn't see anyone but the blinding lights lining the podium—not that she needs to see the hungry faces of the spectators. It doesn't matter what piece of fabric covers her body; they are looking at who wears it. Final pose at the centre—no smile is her go-to. Hold and turn is the golden rule.

''Here you are!'' One of the seamstresses grabs her hand, pulling her into a small, curtained space with countless clothes on racks. ''Calio wants you to hold a purse for the backstage photo and lose the belt. Where the fuck is the golden belt?'' she shouts, searching for one. ''Wait here; I'll go find it,'' she finally announces, running away before YN has the chance to suggest anything.

YN looks around, carefully moving the laying rags with her foot. She mentally goes over the outfits labelled with names, rating them one by one, until her eyes stop on the white dress. The closing dress, the one she was supposed to model. Underneath it are velvety black high boots.

The idea comes to her mind quickly: she steals a needle from the nearby table and carefully places it inside the shoes, making sure it looks like an accident.

''Finally,'' the woman returns with a belt in her hands, oblivious to YN's half-smile. ''Put it on and go; they are already waiting.''

''Of course, thanks.''

YN isn't sure how much time has passed before she hears a scream, standing up from her place in the corner with a blanket around her exposed shoulders. Surely enough, Jenovia is on the floor, crying crocodile tears—a needle inside her heel deep enough to make a few of the girls around her gag.

''What the fuck happened?'' It's Calio, the boss here; he was ordering her around before.

''I don't know,'' all the blonde girl can manage before bursting into tears one more time.

''Well, can you walk?'' he asks, kneeling to take a look.

''No,'' Jenovia whispers, her hand holding her bloodied foot.

The bald man sighed, more annoyed than concerned. ''We need a replacement. You,'' he points at YN. ''Take it off and change into the dress. Quick!''

YN does what she is told in no time; she doesn't want to wait until Jenovia suddenly gets better or the man finds a better-suited girl to close. After a few minutes, she is almost ready; she only needs the lipstick to finish it off.

''We don't have time!'' the man roars, dragging her to the exit. ''Here!'' He puffs out her hair and adjusts the layers of fake pearls covering her neck. ''Three, two, one! Go, fucking go!''

And go she does. A few steps on the runway, and she discovers that lipstick is still in her hands. YN puts it in the pocket of the enormously large black coat that hides the gorgeous white dress underneath. Step after step, her long black boots draw patterns on the glass. She will have no choice but to buy them; YN doesn't care if it's stupid. They helped her, so she will have them.

It's time for the final pose: YN takes out the lipstick from her pocket and applies it with two swift motions, blowing a kiss to the camera. It will definitely be a hit with the photographers. YN throws one last look before turning around and returning to the curtained exit. On her way back, when the lights lower to follow her back, she can see a little clearer. In the sea of vibrant hair colours and clothes, the platinum-blonde hair and a simple black suit stood out too much not to notice. There is only one person who could afford to look so simple—YN knows it. An opportunity of a lifetime.

She makes another stop in the middle of the podium, right in front of his seat. The coat slides off her shoulders effortlessly, and YN catches it just when the fabric is about to hit the floor. The crowd goes crazy, clapping and whistling at her tricks, but YN has no wish to entertain them any further. YN pauses for a moment, her eyes meeting icy-blue ones, before turning away and finishing the show. There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one.

Since the last show, she has done fifteen more—day after day, opening and closing. Her little trick got her where she wanted to be, with more money than one person could need in a lifetime and nowhere to spend it. Even now, standing in the long hallway of the training centre, she wears nothing she bought herself; all are gifted, sent, or handed by the adoring fans. Like a rag doll, with no say in how she looks or what she does, YN hears everyone say that it was ''a price of fame''. She doesn't think so; she was told what to do long before she tasted real butter on her toast.

The sliding door to her apartment moves almost without noise. While most victors complain that the lock system reminds them of prison, YN is grateful to have it. The thought of some crazy fanatic waiting for her in the dark isn't the most pleasant one. The designer bag finds its place on the floor, soon joined by the coat—room service will clean it up later. The heels slide off her feet quickly, leaving bloodied marks on her skin, but YN doesn't care enough to do something about them.

''Forgive me for joining you without an invitation.''

YN turns around, her hands grabbing the keys in her hands tighter. She mentally goes over her means of escape or fight—a mirror could easily be broken and used as a weapon; if necessary, she could also grab a nearby ottoman. The man in the chair doesn't look too impressed with her thought process. His lips curve into a smile, blue eyes staring at her with undivided attention. A suit, not very different from the one he wore at her show, was a deep brown colour.

''Mister President,'' YN breathes out, lowering her hand.

Coriolanus Snow. Light, almost white hair frames his face like a halo, with his suit hugging his waist just enough to highlight the broad shoulders. YN saw him on TV a couple of times, but seeing him in person was something entirely different. It's like the air shifts around him and changes with his presence.

''I believe we met before,'' he humours her, his eyes shining with mischief.

The light knocking on the door doesn't leave YN any time to answer. She presses a button near it, fixing her hair before opening it. YN tries to look as composed as possible without betraying her nerves—why was he here? ''Yes?''

''The dinner, Ma'am.'' the room service declares, pushing a cart in front of her.

YN nods, even though she didn't order one. ''Leave it here,'' she says, gesturing to the place nearby. When the door closes and she is alone with the man in her room again, her heart skips a beat.

''I took the liberty of ordering; I hope you don't mind.''

Even if she did, she knew better than to say anything. Instead, YN watched as the man stood up and took the dishes from the cart, placing them on the coffee table, before turning to her once more.

''Please, have a seat.''

She does what she is told, sitting down on her king-sized bed—the chair is already taken by him—and waits for the blonde man to start speaking. He doesn't right away, choosing to pour a glass of wine for her and himself.

YN watches the dark liquor pour into the glass, swirling with each drop. She isn't hungry—she rarely was—and the soup he ordered looks more like vomit than a dish, but she still takes the spoon and carefully places it into her mouth. Her lipstick stains the silverware with colour, leaving a small circle right at the end—that's when the man finally decides to speak.

''Dare I say I am a huge fan of your work ethic? Everyone who I've spoken to is very satisfied with your,'' he pauses, searching for the fitting word, ''dedication .''

''Thank you, Mister President,'' YN replies with a polite smile before returning to her soup. She watches him only from the corner of her eye. The way he cuts his steak with his ringed fingers and the way he places a small bite in his mouth before his lips close. There is a subtle roughness in his movements, a power play of some sort.

He catches her gaze and, for a moment, is silent. ''You probably wonder why I am here in the first place, outside of the amazing steak they cook here, of course. The thing is, Miss Y/L/N, that you are popular not only with the general public but with people higher in power as well. One may even say they fell in love with the way you present yourself.''

''I am pleased to know that, Mr. President, but I am only doing my job as a victor.''

''Then you will understand the weight of my dilemma. Those people who have served Panem all their lives faithfully usually don't ask for much recognition; they work because they want to build a better future for all of us. So, when they do ask for a small favour or two, I am more than happy to satisfy them. But recently, all they ask for is you .''

''I believe I don't quite understand. They want to meet me?''

''You can phrase it like that, yes. For a night or two, of course, with all expenses covered.''

It's heavy, the understanding of what Mister President really implies. The thought of someone's hand roaming her body brings her dinner up YN's throat. ''Why?'' Her voice is shakier than she would like, but she is more focused on composing the rising anger than noticing it.

''I am sorry, Miss Y/L/N, but I am afraid there is nothing I can do; I am greatly outnumbered. Unless,'' he starts but doesn't finish his sentence.

''Unless what?''

''Unless you are seen with me.''

His piercing blue eyes look at her, but there is nothing in them. Her chances are limited, and he knows it. There is something rogue in him beneath the veil of chivalry he offers. YN smiles at him. That's what this whole charade was about—he wants her. Coriolanus Snow, the most powerful man in the whole world, wants her.

''Of course, Mr. President. That's very generous of you.''

''Mister President is too official, don't you think, Miss Y/L/N? Perhaps we could find a more informal way of addressing each other?''

''Informal?'' YN asks, tilting her head to the side. If he wants her, he'll get her. ''What about Mister Snow?'' The buttons on her shirt are easy to manage—a few quick motions, and it slides off her shoulders onto the cream cover. ''Or, Sir Coriolanus?'' The pants are a little trickier, but YN learned that backstage, every second counts, so they soon also pool around her heels, the fabric hitting the floor with a slight thud.

The blonde man watches her intently, his eyes following every move of her hands. His legs are still spread wide on the lime-green chair as he slightly leans back. YN can't tell if he is enjoying her antics or not, but frankly, she doesn't care; she is enjoying it. The way her shadow dances on the wall, the way the air shifts in the huge room, transforming it into a tiny stage. YN looks at him with mischief, with superiority, even. After all, she is the show here. Why not let Mr. Savior think it is for him?

''Come, Mister Snow,'' she says, throwing it in his face like a bone to the dog.

He doesn't have the haste to join her; on the contrary, he stands up painfully slowly. His tall figure almost seems to stretch as he raises, covering the floor lamp behind him fully. When he finally circles the table to stand above her, his presence is overwhelming. YN lets him stand between her legs, his unusually cold hand on her thigh.

''I prefer Coriolanus,'' he whispers in her ear, lowering himself enough to touch her ear with his velvety lips. He pulls away slightly, planting a kiss on her cheek instead. ''Have a most pleasant night, Miss Y/L/N.''

And then he walks away. YN watches as his figure disappears behind the sliding door before she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her gaze instinctively finds her reflection in the nearby mirror; there is no reason to shine if no one watches her.

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lovrre · 2 years

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House party~

Steve Harrington x fem black reader

Word count: 3,002

summary: after your friend convinces you to go to a house party you Connect with an old friend(I tried to make this one a little bit more romantic,tell me how you feel about it :)

Song link for the end : https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=xI2MdeQWYj4

Warnings: pure smut, a little slow burn, cursing, unprotected sex, a little he loves her more trope and some other stuff…

~~~~~~~~

You normally enjoy going to parties but this month was all over the place, you just weren’t feeling it but One of your Close friends Lydia convinced you to go out. She said it would be a good way for you to relieve some stress. The sun had just started to set when you got ready, nothing too fancy a bit of mascara, and some lipstick. you also quickly ran The straightener through your hair that you had straightened previously in the week. All of your party-type dresses were in the wash so you opted for a silk and lacy pink slip dress you got for Christmas, paired with a long leather jacket lined with pink fur.

Just as you were about to put on your platform like Mary Janes Your Landline rings, you hop over to the phone while adjusting your shoe over your heel. “Hello?” you answered sitting back on your bed balancing the phone between the crook of your neck and your shoulder. you stomped your foot to secure the shoe. “Y/N you better be dressed, we’re on our way,” she says loudly from the other end of the phone. “We’re?”

“Ya, Dave’s driving us” you lay the phone to your chest and silently mouth “fuck” to yourself before replying. “Ohhh ok,” you say bringing the phone back up to your ear. you liked Lydia But her taste in men was horrible. Dave stunk like bad… and he was extremely unfunny and annoying. you only put up with it for Lydia. “We will be there in ten, be ready!” with that you hung up the phone and make your way down the steps to the kitchen. You grab a hand full of the cookies you had made earlier putting one in your mouth before putting the rest of them in a zip lock to eat later.

You stuff the ziplock in your purse and plop Down on the couch to wait for Lydia. A little while later you hear a knock at the door. You opened to see an excited Lydia Smiling ear to ear. “You look so cute Y/N!” She squeals “Is that the dress I got you for Christmas” “yep ” you respond while locking the door behind you.

~~~~~

The car ride was excruciating his car smelt like socks and old beer. On top of that, Dave kept telling horribly unfunny jokes while Lydia pretended to laugh. As soon as you got to the party Lydia ran off somewhere with Dave leaving you stranded around a bunch of people you were no longer friends with and others you didn’t care to talk to, after a couple of drinks you became very tired and annoyed. taking you and your solo cup through the door to the backyard where you sat by the pool.

The Night air was a little crisp and a comfortable lounge chair facing the water giving you a perfect view. The light reflected off the ripples giving a twinkling effect and the smell of chlorine comforted you. The sound of the party was Muffed by the clear sliding door separating the outside from the in. You were comfortably laying on the lounge chair thinking about your new life and how much you hated it. Your parents recently split which in reality it was for the best, their relationship was extremely toxic. But your mom took your brother in the divorce and moved back to her hometown in Cleveland. You knew you and your mom weren’t that close but to leave with your brother and move 4 hours away was an extreme.

You felt abandoned, left with your now drunken dad who was never home. But mostly you missed your little brother, you felt like he was snatched from you. He called you once for almost 3 minutes before your mom snatched the phone saying he was trying to talk to his dad. Before you knew it you were crying and not even 5 minutes later the familiar sound of party music grew louder followed by a click of the sliding door.

You quickly wiped your tears and turned in the chair to see Steve Harrington creeping toward you. “Y/N?” “Yes?” you say trying your best to sound ok. “long time no see”

You and Steve used to be really close, during the last two years of middle school and early freshman year. He was the only one who stood up for you when you were younger but as you got older he started acting similar to the people who used to protect you from so distance yourself. You would wave back if he waved first but nothing much more than that.

“Ya It’s been a while..” you say readjusting yourself. “Why are you out here all alone,” he says bending down a bit “oh, I'm just waiting for Lydia” you mumble trying to calm your voice.

“I think I saw her leave a while ago with Dave, is she coming back for you?” You Sigh deeply and run your hands over your face before tucking your hair behind your ears. “Probably not” you dryly say looking up at Steve with tired eyes before turning your head back to look at the water.

Steve slowly sits in the lounge chair next to you in a laying position facing the water with you. “This is a pretty view,” you don’t reply and he continues. “It reminds me of your art in middle school, all those ocean paintings with The sunsets”

I remember I was obsessed with Those sunsets.. good times” you mumble fidgeting with your fingers. “I still have the one with the green seagulls.. somewhere in my house ”. Steve says looking toward you

“I don’t even think I have any more” silence follows your statement as Steve pulls out a Half-empty box of cigarettes, taking one and putting it between his lips. “got one to spare”

You say slightly turning your head. “I wouldn’t have clocked you as a smoker,” he says handing you a cigarette

Putting it between your lips you Answer

“I'm not” your words make the cigarette jump.

Steve fumbles with a lighter while taking it out of his pocket, leaning over to light your cigarette before his own. You Grin just a little at the gesture, He sits back in his chair taking a long hit before talking.

“You know I’ve missed seeing you on the court ” “really?” you reply dryly taking a long hit of your cigarette. “Really, The cheers aren’t the same without your Pom Pom throwing”

“ya but I think I'm done with the cheerleader thing,” you say after blowing out your smoke.

“Why you’re so good at it, with all the kicks and flips” you chuckle as he does tricks with his fingers. “I mean...I could never.. and mess up this hair” you smile

~~~~~~~~

You didn’t think you would enjoy Steve's company as much as you did, but after an hour of jokes and drinks, Steve had you laughing with him under the stars.

“Remember Eric Holder, freshman year,” Steve says laughing to himself. “YES, IN THE CAFETERIA! ,” you say shaking your head in confirmation. Steve begins impersonating Eric in a nerdy voice sniffing after every word “Would you accompany me to my bed for a night of passion” you two break out into a fit of laughter until you were wheezing. “Still don’t know where he got the balls,” Steve says trying to stifle his laughter.

“I tried so hard not to laugh in his poor face, he looked so sad when I said no,” You say mocking his puppy dog eyes. “Then he told everyone you kissed him with tongue”

“Oh god don’t remind me”

You two lay there in comfortable silence enjoying the ambiance. Just when everything silenced Thunder rumbles in the sky. You turn your head to look at Steve whose eyes were closed “Rain? ”.

“Probably,” he says eyes Still closed, you take a swig of your drink and spoke. “I really thought you had turned into this huge douchebag with big hair, but you don’t seem too douchey”

“douchey? When have I ever come across “douchey, “ he says emphasizing the last part.

“I Know exactly when actually, it was February 14 late freshman year. I asked you if you wanted to come over my house and you literally told me very bluntly too, that you would never hang out with “someone like me”

“I would never” he declares dramatically while wiping off a small rain drop off his face.

“you did, I remember because I wrote it in my diary, I didn't know if it was a race thing or you thought-” Steve cuts you off

“See I know that's not true because I would’ve never brought up your race”

“Whatever you say Steve…” you guys sit in awkward silence for a second before the rain starts pouring down. You quickly grab your jacket putting it over your head to protect your hair. You run towards The back door but Steve grabs your arm pulling you towards the gate in the backyard that leads to the Front of the house where his car was parked. Steve scrambled to the car unlocking it, you two hurried in side huffing and puffing as you finally sat down.

“God is my hair is fucked” you ask taking your jacket off your head. Steve looks over at you in the passenger seat,“Looks pretty good to me “

~~~~~~~

While sitting in the car Steve offers to drive you home. The drive is filled with Steve listening to music and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel while you sing off-key. He pulls up to your house and parks in the empty driveway you assume your dad stayed the night at his new girlfriend’s house. Your thoughts were cut short as Steve yelled

I REMEMBER NOW, February 14 freshman year Hannah Dlco, I told Her I had a crush on you hoping she would help me out and she told me you told her you would never date stuck up pretty boy like me, that’s why I said I wouldn’t hang out with someone like you, I meant like a bad person”

“FIRST off why were you asking Hannah Delco for help, she hated my guts. SECOND, it was common knowledge Hannah Delco had a huge crush on YOU.” Third, why didn’t you just tell me you liked me …”

“I thought you guys were like Best friends, she would walk with you home from school ” he explains

“No…she would FOLLOW me home from school so she could ask me 110 questions about you”

“I didn’t know that but…You know what WAS common knowledge? the fact that I had a huge crush on you... I even thought you knew and just choose to ignore it, then 3 months later your Dating a Junior quarterback?”

You lay back in your seat and sigh “miscommunication is crazy” you mumble “I was damn near in love with you that whole time until that whole “someone like you” comment

Steve's heart squeezed a little at the statement

. “I was obsessed, I would write about you all the time in my Diary. I would walk the longer ways to class hoping I would pass you in the halls, Crazy shit” You laugh

Steve goes silent for a second and before you know it his lips are on yours. The kiss was deep in sensuality Your first thought was to push him off but your body went limp at the way his soft lips felt against yours.

“Shit-sorry,” he says pulling away “no no it’s cool,” you say breathily before pulling him back in by his collar. The kiss quickly turns hungry and you switch positions in the car so you are straddling him.

His hands roam all over your body as you rock your hips against the growing bulge in his pants. Your back hits The steering wheel for the third time before you speak.

“Wanna go upstairs” you whisper. “ya” Steve quietly groans out, You guys make your way upstairs in a giggling mess before entering your room.

“Oh wow…it’s pink in here, very pink”

“ya I might have overdone it”

you say in between breaths throwing off your large jacket. Steve grabs your hips and you jump wrapping your legs around his waist. Steve throws you on your bed making you bounce a little. Steve bends down between you to reconnect your lips. His hand now tangling in your hair In a rough kiss

“God I’ve waited so long for this” he pants out rubbing himself against you and making your dress ride up. You grab at the side of his face looking too deep in the kiss “mmh” you mumble against his lips. You rock your hips against his looking for some sort of friction. he quickly removes his hand from your hair and snakes it under your dress stopping at your stomach. Making your dress completely bunch up at the waist, You moan at the way his hands felt on your skin.

“Mmh Take off your clothes,” you assert leaning back on the bed so your head hit the pillow. Steve obliges quickly tearing off his shirt.

“Oh God, where have you been hiding this” you whisper sitting up to rake your hands over his hair-covered chest. Steve lets out a small laugh before working off the belt of his jeans. The sight making you grow wetter by the second. The pants were off in an instant landing in A pile on the floor next to his shirt, The huge bulge now ten times more prominent.

You palm him, earning a low moan before he took his Boxers completely off. You gawked at the site, your mouth watering at the thought of his length on your tongue. He pumped himself twice before bending down and shimmying off your panties. Licking his fingers Steve runs them over your soaked cunt causing a loud moan to fall from your lips.

“So fucking wet” he growls, You grab his shaft stroking it before guiding him to your core. Wiping him through your folds.

Steve grabs your hip pushing you closer to him. He slowly pushes the tip of his dick in, and you both moan at the contact. His thrust start of slow letting you adjust around him. Impatiently you rock your hips faster making Steve aware of your want only fueling him. Before you know it your legs are over his shoulder as he pounds deeper into your cunt

“Sooo fucking tight Y/N” he moans leaving kisses in the crook of your neck. Your core squeezes at his remark and he groans fucking you faster. Your thoughts blur as you feel yourself nearing the edge already. You scratch at his back the pleasure unbearable, almost everything the thrust hitting your g spot perfectly.

“Oh Steve don’t stop, don’t stop” you scream. he doesn’t, continuing to hit you in just the right places. “You feel so fucking good,” he says grabbing your leg for leverage.

now hitting you harder than before... “I’m gonna fucking cum” you confess snaking your hand down to rub your swollen clit. “Cum for me baby ” Just the words alone were enough to throw you over, instantly cumming hard around Steve's dick scratching at his back in Ecstasy. He leaves small kisses on your head as he pounds into you chasing his own release.

”So fucking wet”

Steve’s thrust began to stammer as he neared his end. Quickly pulling out and cuming on your leg “OhMyfuckinggod” finishing Steve marveled at the sight of you underneath him. fucked out, covered in sweat, dress bunched up at your waist, and your strap falling off your shoulder making you look so disheveled. After a minute or so you grab the tissues off your nightstand wiping away the cum from your leg.

~~~~~~

Hours later You were tangled together under the covers when Steve woke you up.

“Look, look, look” you wipe your eyes to see Steve pointing at A beautiful sunset outside your window. You set up looking at the way the Orange blended with the Blue of the upcoming sky, Just like the ones you used to draw years ago. Not being able to go back to sleep you and Steve stayed up until 6

The sun shining through The curtains and onto both of your skin is a constant reminder of how much time you’ve spent together. you two sat there enjoying the cookies that you had forgotten in your bag while Steve petted your cat nightmare. The setting was calming, just you in him and nobody else the both of you wished it would never end.

~~~

“I still got it,” you say holding your guitar in your lap strumming chords, you Sat cross-legged nightmare sitting next to you. “Song Suggestion?” You say looking at Steve in anticipation as you wait for him to finish chewing his cookie. He lays his back completely against the wall The sun now beaming through the window onto his face “hungry eyes?”

“Now how would I possibly play that on here ” you announce dropping your guitar in your lap

“Hmmm... Can you do (i want to know what love is)?” He asks scarfing down the rest of his cookie.

“That I can do!“ You declare readjusting your guitar in your Lap before pausing.

“You’ve been watching chick flicks lately Harrington?”, You say while raising your eyebrow.

“SING THE DAMN SONG” Steve demands dramatically throwing a pillow. “Ok, ok I’m gonna just start for where I can remember” you mumble adjusting your hands on the cords.

“♪ I don’t know if I can Face it again ♪,

can’t stop now I’ve traveled so far ♪,

♪ to change this lonely life ♪,

“♪ I WANNA KNOW WHAT LOVE IS, I WANT YOU TO SHOW ME”♪ You sing the last part extra dramatically pointing to Steve the whole time.

He’s a laughing mess watching you carry on with your one-man show.

#black reader #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #Steve Harrington x fem reader #Steve Harrington X black reader #Steve Harrington X black fem reader #black y/n #black fem y/n #lovrre

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avpd-queer · 10 months

Text

I feel bad that my former best friend is in a toxic relationship and can’t see it, is throwing away their friends of over a decade for her, but I also can’t stop remembering how, when I shared with them that I had just learned I had been cheated on and gaslighted about it for 6 years, their response was concern about my abuser’s mental health. That conversation didn’t affect their relationship with him in the slightest, they didn’t try to be there for me or show up for me to him, and when I they learned that I was going to get back with that person just a few days later, expecting them to be like, “uh no I don’t think that’s a good idea” (like everyone else had done and like I expected from them, having told them “just don’t let any of your friends date him” when I shared that I was leaving him, thinking they could help me figure out where to sleep and how to adjust), they didn’t protest at all. I was glad to avoid the awkwardness of, “thank you for your concern but I don’t have other options and idk I guess I’m gullible but also I just really want to believe it’ll get better” but also hurt that they didn’t seem concerned for my well-being. Hoping that they just didn’t voice that part because I’m an adult and can make decisions and already know what advice I would give myself. I just had to cling to believing that, and thinking maybe they don’t understand what gaslighting is and that’s why they didn’t seem to care, even as they became less and less my friend and eventually dropped both of us for trying to set a boundary with them about their girlfriend. And the only way they offer for me to be there for them through their relationship is to stuff down all of my needs and feelings, go along with every whim of their girlfriend, and accept that we will never get time with them without her ever again. They kept pretending like everything was okay and they totally understood, when we were face-to-face, and then they’d go home and suddenly we’re horrible and need to apologize to her for…being her friend? Trying to get more time with our best friend? Being honest with our best friend when they ask why we haven’t been able to get closer to their girlfriend? We were trying to be adult and trust in the strength of our friendship, but they fully gave in to their girlfriend’s temper tantrum over her misinterpretation of messages she logged into their discord to read, and they have just fully thrown us away. Ghosted us for pride and haven’t communicated with us in any form since. We had some extra pizza from a canceled event at my partner’s work that I left on their doorstep and had my sister text about, and they responded that they were out of the country, visiting her family. Normally we have two weekly dnd sessions and 1-2 weekly hangout sessions - the first week of dnd was canceled and after that, they just never showed up. This month of nothing is one of the few months we had left before they were going to move to where her family lives in the US, like 10hr drive from here, being fully isolated with her, without a support system, away from the support system they haven’t been away from in like 8 years (when I was in New York - my partner was here during those 2 years, they were roommates).

I’m just so hurt. They meant so much to me, I planned on having them in my life for the rest of it. I knew in the last relationship they were in they let us fall to the side some but she broke up with them and they realized how absorbed they’d been and promised to not let it happen again. Before meeting the current girlfriend, who they immediately got absorbed into. I don’t know what the fuck to do.

#vent #I guess I’ll show this to my therapist #it’s hard to find the words when you’re not in the moment fully feeling the feelings and are talking to a stranger #instead of a blank void #my chest feels like a black hole #I keep thinking of cool people in my past who I was too scared to get to know #how I just got to know the people it was easiest to #because they weren’t intimidating #and this is the result #people tell me I have too high standards but? is this the result of the opposite? I’ve isolated myself as my mental health has gotten worse #and clung to the people who I thought cared about me the people who were easiest to keep in my life #and then those people turned out to not give a shit about me or need to have some kind of epiphany to realize I’m a human #being who they shouldn’t abuse #my adult relationships have just been emulating the treatment I got from my mom and oldest sister growing up #so much of the recurring shit from them has been recurring in my adult life too #never thought I would fall victim to the ‘you seek out the treatment you know’ trope #I guess #btw if there is a person reading this while I don’t always believe it for obvious reasons #I do think my partner just somehow didn’t realize how horrible he was being and is making progress now…he still falls short a lot in those #ways (I mean like not considering how his actions affect me or how I would feel about something and lashing out at me when he’s feeling #defensive not like…dropping a cup or forgetting something)#but it happens less #and he’s quicker to listen to me and understand and apologize #than he used to be #and not so weird and attack-y about his phone and computer and social medias #and he’s usually good about understanding it’ll be a process and the flip side of me being understanding of his growth being slow and non-li #near #is that I can’t get over years of abuse and a rewriting of my brain overnight #my mental health is so much worse after years of gaslighting and that’s going to take work on both of our ends #and he’ll have to create a space of trust and comfort with me not just expect it to be there magically

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finelinevogue · 3 years

Note

Can we get some more brother!harry?

I really enjoyed your piece where he caught her smoking ❤️

of course you can!! (rip if your name is natalia) hope this is what you wanted;

Natalia.

Beautiful name to juxtapose a horrible excuse of a human being.

Harry was never that great when it came to choosing his girlfriends, but this one was by far the worst. Bekka had been bad, because she had been cheating on Harry with her best friends dad. India was just so toxic, to the point where she’d ask Harry why he wasn’t mad with her over the most trivial things as if she wanted him to be mad. Daya was ok, but she wanted different things to what Harry wanted and so they ended up in a massive argument and ending things quicker than they started. Natalia though, wow. She was something else and that wasn’t a compliment.

You don’t know whether it was just because she targeted you especially, but she was just a downright cruel person. You could easily tell her intentions with your brother were not good. She was a plain ol’ gold digger, evident from the credit card that Harry leant her and she spent so much on it the bank had to call Harry to ask him to authorise that he was aware of the amount of money being spent. She bought a car with his card. A fucking car. Harry was too blinded by her beauty and her experience that he was oblivious to her witchy behaviour towards you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to tell him either, it was more that he didn’t care enough.

“No Harry. No.” You argued with him, standing in the middle of the kitchen as he was busy washing the rest of the dishes in the sink. It was just the two of you home at the moment, because Gemma and Anne were spending the weekend at an exclusive spa in Cheshire, so you didn’t understand how there were so many dishes.

“Y/N, it’s not an option. You’re not staying at home by yourself.” Harry spoke sternly back to you, letting out his frustration by vigorously scrubbing the dishes.

“I’m literally 17 - 18 in like 3 weeks. I’m more than capable of staying home.” You stomped your foot to the ground like a child.

“And I don’t care. You’re coming to lunch whether you want to or not.” Harry finished the last plate and dries his hands on the towel next to the sink, before throwing it over to you.

“But she’ll be there.”

“She’s my girlfriend, so you’ll nice to her.”

“If she’s nice to me, then yeah.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to the sink to start drying the dishes that Harry just cleaned.

“ Y/N, I swear to God.” Harry groaned in frustration, tugging a stressful hand through his hair. “Can you at least pretend to be happy for me for once?”

“Gee Harry, i’m just so happy to be going out to lunch with you and your girlfriend!” You put on the biggest grin as your sarcasm practically dripped from your tongue.

“Stop being a spoilt little shit and finish those dishes. We’re leaving in 20.” Harry spoke harshly, before leaving the room with a heavy strop to his step. It left you to blink back the tears that you couldn’t help that Natalia was ruining your whole relationship with your brother.

You and Harry used to be so tight nit, now it would be a miracle if he spent a day with you per month. Natalia had come along 5 months ago and she had completely turned Harry’s life around for the worst, only Harry was too ignorant to see that. Anne had come home multiple times to find you crying because Harry had cancelled on you, again, or Natalia had said something that had really hurt. Normally you were okay with taking hate, but Natalia made it somehow worse than that. Even if Anne or Gemma tried to talk Harry about the damage all this was causing you it would always be the same response;

“She just wants attention.”

The restaurant was very pretty.

It was one that you and Harry used to go to all the time, when there was no girlfriend around. It sold the best pastries and life-changing eggs on toast. The food was always delicious and the staff were so completely lovely. You were glad to be coming here, making you feel more comfortable than you would if you went to a expensive fancy restaurant instead. This little restaurant, named ‘Lemon Puffs’ after their infamous lemon, cream and pastry puffs, made you feel safe and happy.

“Remember to just be nice.” Harry spoke as you both approached the table that Natalia was already sat at. She was too busy on her phone to realise you were even here.

“If she plays nice then yeah.” You bit back.

“Y/N just stop being petty, y’pissing me off now.” Harry argued. “Whine like a bitch later. I don’t need it today.”

You stopped talking after that, not having anything else to say to him. He’d made it very clear that you were only here because he didn’t trust you at home by yourself, but by the same token wanted you quiet because he didn’t trust you enough to speak nicely. Harry hugged and kissed Natalia like he hadn’t just seen her last night and then sat down opposite to her, leaving you to sit next to Harry because you sure as hell weren’t sitting next to her. Natalia didn’t even make the effort to hug you or shake hands, in fact you barely got a simple hello.

“You alright, baby?” Natalia asked, twirling her hand into Harry’s from across the table. Disgusting.

“Yeah i’m good. This one’s a pain in my arse, as always.” Even with his joking tone, you knew he was being somewhat serious and that really messed with you.

“Typical.” Natalia rolled her eyes and tutted her tongue, not hesitating to use the opportunity to be mean to you. Harry thought she was merely playing along with his words, but you new otherwise.

“You know what you want yet?” Harry asked as he pulled his own attention towards the menu. You didn’t need to look at the menu, as being here so many times has allowed you to discover the perfect order.

“I think i’m just going to get the salad, but without the chicken, cheese or cucumber.” She answered, sipping on the water she must’ve already ordered whilst waiting for you both.

“So just lettuce?” You asked, not meaning for it to be a condescending question and yet she took it that way anyways.

“Is there something wrong with that, Y/N?” She asked, being really harsh in the way she spoke your name - as if the syllables actually caused her pain to speak.

“N-no I was just—”

“Didn’t think so.” She snapped and turned away from you to look back towards Harry, with her shit-eating grin that didn’t fool you. Harry kicked you leg under the table too, not appreciating the way you were speaking to Natalia. He didn’t even think about the way his girlfriend was speaking to you though. As usual.

“I’ll probably get the salad too.” Harry nodded his head and you shook your head as he spoke. Harry would never normally get a salad. Like, that’s so Kardashian of him. Harry, whenever he came here with you, always ordered a cheese and pickle panini, with extra crunchy pickles, a portion of chips and some halloumi fries too. Oh and then a cake for pudding. He wouldn’t have gone for a boring salad. Fucking Natalia was ruining him and you hated to have a front row seat of it.

“Not the usual then?” You tried to joke with him, but he was clearly still pissed off with you for being… you.

“Why, are you?” He asked quizzically.

“Obviously.” You smiled, which made Harry smile for a split second before Natalia pulled him away from you. Your smile disappeared and a frown settled in, knowing it would stay there for a long time.

“Babe, I am here too you know?” Natalia joked, bur you could see the anger and jealousy behind her eyes. If looked could kill you’d be ten feet under, twenty times over by now.

“Sorry, yeah.” Harry cleared his throat and paid closer attention to her.

Lunch went by slowly.

Natalia scoffed when she heard your order; poached eggs on toast with three pieces of crispy bacon on the side, a portion of chips and a mint iced tea. Oh and a cake for pudding, but you’d come to that later. Natalia ate her lettuce as Harry eat his salad as you ate your eggs on toast with bacon and chips. You loved the food, hated the company and couldn’t make up your mind whether you loved or hated being here. Natalia and Harry talked throughout lunch, leaving you out of all their conversations. The only time Harry spoke to you was when he asked whether your food was okay, eyeing it up as if he wanted to make love to it and send his salad to the nearest dumpster.

“Was everything alright for you?” Paul, the owner of the business and dude in charge of the eggs asked you when all your plates were empty as Harry’s growling stomach.

“Lovely, thank you.” Harry responded gratefully.

“Perfect.” You smiled as you handed your dirty plate to Paul.

“It was a bit plain.” Natalia moved her plate away from her in disgust and Paul put on his best customer smile, apologising for that before leaving to go and ring up the bill.

“Okay i’m just going to go for a quick wee before I pay.” Harry announced, getting up from the table to go to the loo.

“Okay babe. Don’t be too long.” She called out and then it was left just you and her.

“Well this was nice.” You tried to be nice, as Harry told you to, and start a meant conversation with your arch enemy. Kill ‘em with kindness - that was Harry’s slogan wasn’t it?

“If you hadn’t have been here then yeah.” She turned her nose up at you.

“Look,” you began, wanting her to understand something, “whatever i’ve done to upset you and make you hate me, i’m sorry. Just, I don’t want you to dislike me and I know that Harry really likes you so I want us to be able to get along.”

“Listen, Y/N,” there it was again - your name spoken with dripping venom, “I don’t want to get along with you. You make me sick. You are such a baby to Harry and you’re needy, which means I don’t get to spend time with my boyfriend—”

“Don’t get to spend time with him?” You had to laugh at that. Apart from today, you’d seen Harry maybe a total of 2 hours this whole week and it was Saturday. “You’re practically attached at the hip.”

“Not enough. Harry needs to keep away from you, you only bring him trouble.”

“I’m his fucking sister.” You shouted quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace for the rest of the customers.

“Not an excuse. Look Y/N, I understand that you are quite lonely and don’t have many friends? Maybe you should consider that’s for a very good reason?” She rhetorically asked you and that made you sit back a bit. She was pulling apart your insecurities now and exposing them to find the most painful parts, so she could watch you suffer with only the curse of her words.

“It’s not like that.” You tried to convince yourself more than her, tears in your eyes over something so hurtful to you.

“No? ‘Cause I think that you aren’t the kind of person anyone wants around, including Harry.” She stood up dusted herself off as he noticed Harry walk back over to the table, smiling as if she hadn’t just shot his sister in the heart.

Her words stung more than a scorpions tale, and yes unfortunately you knew what that felt like. Natalia was right. You were alone, friendless and just trouble. There was a reason that you were all of this and Natalia had hit the nail right on the head with the reason why. You thought of your friends, his they always disappeared and left you and now you sit in the canteen alone or hang out only with yourself on the weekends. You think to Gemma and Anne going away for the weekend, not inviting you because it was age restrictive but you still couldn’t help but think there was a more pressing reason than that. Then you think of Harry and how he was fed up of you. He couldn’t be more resentful of you if he tried. You wanted to be a good friend, a good daughter and most importantly a good sister, but it was so blindingly obvious that you weren’t. You were never going to be.

You stood up from the table too, quickly wiping away a tear from your face before anyone could notice but you didn’t care to see if anyone was actually watching. Harry kissed Natalia and then walked over to the cashier to pay the bill. You noticed Paul and Harry talking and so you walked out of the restaurant and towards the car, still tears in your eyes. You needed to be strong for yourself though, especially because nobody else was going to be.

You stood with you handle to the door of the car waited for Harry to come and unlock it. You heard high heels before the car was unlocked, unfortunately.

“Excuse me, but I ride front.” Natalia spat at you, removing your hand from the door and chivvying you to the back of the car instead.

“You’re coming with us?” You asked, your heart aching that little bit more. You didn’t want to spend another minute in her presence and yet she would now probably spend the rest of the week until your mum and sister came back.

“Ye—”

“No she’s not.” Harry walked out of the restaurant and over to the car, standing in between the both of you but a little more towards you.

“Babe? What do you mean?” Natalia asked, a little bit shocked at his tone with her.

“Firstly dont babe me. Secondly, get your hand off my car. Thirdly, don’t ever come near me or my sister ever again.” Harry ordered angrily. You’d never seen him this angry before. You stood behind him, afraid of what was about to go down.

“What has she said to you, because—”

“She’s my sister and she’s got a name. Y/N didn’t tell me anything. Lemon Puffs, however, has eyes and ears everywhere and it’s amazing the stories you hear when you’re stood at the cashier or next to someone at the urinals.” Harry accused Natalia and she went hot red in the face, embarrassed that this conversation was actually happening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? Maybe this will jog your memory. ‘I think you aren’t the kind of person anyone wants around, including Harry.’” Harry raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest confrontationally. Guarding and protecting you. You felt safe.

“Wha— You think I would say that?” Natalia asked, pretending to be offended by the accusation.

“I don’t know, let’s ask Y/N shall we? Y/N, did Natalia say that to you?” Harry asked, turning to look at you with hope in his eyes, but also sorriness for everything that’s happened. You could see it all behind his eyes and you wanted to squeeze him tight to accept his apology, because you loved him and you needed him.

“Y-yes.” You answered, looking down so you didn’t have to make eye contact with Natalia.

“Harry you can’t possibly believe her.” Natalia laughed, but there was heavy insecurity in her tone.

“I trust her more than anyone. More than you. I trust Y/N with my life.” Harry back answered, taking no more bullshit from his ex-girlfriend. “We’re done Natalia. Okay? I don’t want to see you ever again. What you’ve said and done to my sister is unforgivable and I don’t want someone like you in my life.”

“You were a dick too.” You added quietly behind him and he just turned round to smile and wink at you.

“So what? That’s it?” Natalia asked, dumbfounded.

“Bye Natalia.” Harry walked around to the drivers seat and you to the passenger side. He stopped before opening the door though, wanting to say one last thing. “The bill was split in half by the way. Paul’s just inside waiting for you to pay.”

With that, you both got in the car, laughing at Natalia’s reaction and just everything. Apologises were made and promises of no relationships until you two had built back up yours were sworn. It would take time, but Harry was willing to prove that he was a good brother and you were always going to be someone he wanted around.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue harry styles #finelinevogue #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #harry blurb #harry styles x sister!reader #harry styles sister concept #harry styles sister #harry styles masterlist #finelinevogue blurbs #ask finelinevogue #ask harry styles #anon response #anon #harry styles angst #harry styles sister angst blurb

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soft--dragon · 3 years

Text

You'll Smile Again

Word Count: 2,699

Warnings: Beginnings of a panic attack, anxiety, and facial dysmorphia mention (stay safe guys <3)

All interactions are platonic, don't you dare start shipping

This is a SFW tickle fic, if you don’t like that then don’t read :)

It was going to be a bad day.

Ranboo knew the second he woke up, it was gonna be bad. His head was swimming and his body felt numb and cold despite the blankets thrown over him. The silence was suffocating, too loud and too quiet at the same time. He curled in on himself, wrapping his arms around his middle tightly. It somewhat helped his building nausea, but it was fruitless in an attempt to recreate the feeling of a comforting hug. One sounded nice round about now.

He dreaded the idea of having to get up and being forced to look at a reflective surface, so he stayed on the couch, curled tight and wishing he could fall back asleep and wake up tomorrow. Sleeping away the day until he felt like he could stand and wouldn't keel over. Unfortunately, his mind was far too aware of the morning light streaming through the windows and the hunger rumbling through his stomach. Ranboo let out a pained sound, squeezing his eyes shut and shoved down the need to cry.

It was fine. It was fine. He...he was fine…he...

He wanted Tubbo.

Ranboo swallowed back a sob and blindly scrabbled at the cushions for his phone. His Luca wallpaper greeted him in a painful sear of light. He squeezed his eyes shut against the brightness and quickly opened his phone with his finger print. His contact list had come up before he realized what he was doing, clicking on Tubbo’s name and soon enough, the dialing sound met his ear. Instead of hearing the ringtone through their shared home like he was used to, it remained horribly quiet.

“Boo?” Tubbo’s voice suddenly came through the speaker. “Hey, I was about to call you actually, I was thinking about the vlog Tommy’s wanting to do and I wanted to get your opinions on some stuff-”

“Tubbo- w-where are you?”

There was a long pause on the other line, Ranboo’s slightly keyed up voice catching the older boy’s attention immediately.

“On my way to Nottingham big man...remember?”

Ranboo’s heart sank and he wanted to kick himself for being such an idiot. Tubbo had warned him last night he was leaving early in the morning, saying he may be gone by the time Ranboo woke up. “O-Oh...right…”

There was a rustling noise, no doubt Tubbo sitting up in his seat. “Are you okay? Do you need me to come back?”

“N-No, no” Ranboo quickly replied, wishing he’d had enough sense to think before calling his best friend, now he was inconveniencing him with his stupid problems. He squeezed his eyes shut and released a breath before attempting to speak again. “I’m okay- and anyway, Tommy’s been planning this meet up for weeks, he’d be gutted if you cancelled, he spent so much time making your schedules line up, and you’re probably already there-”

“Ranboo.”

Tubbo’s firm, unwavering voice made Ranboo’s ramblings catch in his throat, he shut his mouth with a sharp click of his jaw, hand gripping the phone shaking slightly.

“Y-Yeah?” He mumbled.

Tubbo sighed, worried but fond. “You know I’d drop anything to make sure you’re okay, right? And Tommy would understand, he knows about your anxiety and facial dysmorphia.”

The need to cry returned hard and fast, Ranboo just managed to catch himself before releasing a whine. “I’ll be okay Tubbo,” he whispered, “promise, I’m...I just need to…”

He was silent for too long, Tubbo waiting worriedly on the other side. “Boo?”

“Don’t cancel on Tommy, I’ll just take a rest day” Ranboo answered, fighting to keep his voice level. “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Ran-”

“Toby.”

The use of Tubbo’s real name made the older teen fall silent. Ranboo practically never said it.

“I said I’ll be okay.” Ranboo knew it was ironic to say that while on the verge of breaking down but he couldn’t do this to Tubbo, not today. “Just go enjoy your time with Tommy, alright? I’ll be fine.”

Tubbo was quiet. It made Ranboo’s stomach roll uncomfortably the longer the silence stretched out. Then there was a sigh.

“The second you feel worse, I want you to call me. And I don’t care-” Tubbo cut him off before he could even protest, “-if you’re worried about disrupting me, call me, got it?”

How on earth Tubbo could be a chaotic gremlin to a sincere steady presence on the go was still a mystery to the tall teen. Ranboo let out a long, shuddering sigh as he pressed himself close to the couch.

“Okay” he agreed quietly.

“Okay” Tubbo repeated, quiet and kind. “Do you want me to stay on the call for a bit boss man?”

His thoughts immediately hissed at him, heart clenching at the thought of Tubbo having to listen to his pathetic whining-

“Ranboo.”

Tubbo’s voice cut through the haze of his toxic thoughts like a knife, yanking him back to the present. He had to clear his throat, shaking himself to properly answer. “Y-Yeah?”

“Did you hear me?”

Ranboo hugged his middle tighter with his free arm and hummed non committedly.

Tubbo softened his voice again. “I can stay if you want me to, I’m still half an hour from Nottingham.”

Ranboo squeezed his eyes shut. “Please?”

Tubbo immediately started talking, switching the subject to something more light hearted, a story about the time he hung out with Tommy and Wilbur. It got a few smiles and even a soft laugh out of Ranboo which Tubbo silently counted as a victory. He kept up the stream of chatter, allowing Ranboo to relax further and further into the couch, the tight constrictions in his chest easing up a bit. Tubbo never ran out of stories to tell, keeping his voice quiet but not without the same level of excitement that kept Ranboo immersed. He could almost pretend Tubbo was sitting on the floor beside the couch like he always did when Ranboo was having a bad day, keeping his mind distracted and heart light.

It seemed cruel when Ranboo faintly heard a whistle blow in the background of Tubbo’s end.

“Oh, I’m here” Tubbo’s voice was surprised.

Ranboo’s stomach rolled at his words, brow creasing as he knew that meant Tubbo had to leave. Still, he steeled his voice and tried to sound as calm as possible. “Better go then huh?”

Tubbo made a soft noise. “It’s not too late to cancel you know? I can still come home Boo, I don’t mind.”

Ranboo wanted to say yes, he wanted to say yes but he couldn’t do that. No. He refused to let himself ruin this meet up when Tommy and Tubbo seemed so excited to plan it out. “I’ll be fine.”

Tubbo didn’t sound convinced. “You sure?”

Ranboo huffed an exasperatedly fond laugh. “Yeah, I’ll be good Tubs.”

It was quiet again, dragging out until Tubbo sighed heavily. “Alright, I’ll stop hover parenting, just remember what I said okay?”

“I’ll call you” Ranboo murmured.

“You better” Tubbo growled but it wasn’t mean, instead sounding protective. “I mean it boo.”

Ranboo let a small smile lift his lips. “I know you do, I promise.”

There was more shuffling then Tubbo sighed, grumbling about a bag being too heavy or something. “Okay good, I am gonna be texting you to check in just so you know, and I’ll call later if you feel up to it. Um, I’ll let my parents know it’s a bad day and not bother you unless you text them- wait they’re out, so is Lani and Teagan, okay uh- Rocky is home, you need a hug, get him, he’s good at comforting people-”

Ranboo chuckled despite himself. “What was that about not hover parenting anymore?”

“Oh shut up” Tubbo laughed, only making Ranboo’s grin widen. “I’m just looking out for one of my best mates.”

It was how easily he said it that made Ranboo feel warm from the platonic affection. “I know...thank you.”

There was a fond huff. “Anytime at all Ranboo.”

After another moment of silence, Ranboo sighed with a small smile. “Go, the gremlin child is waiting.”

“Yeah yeah, I know, I’ll talk to you later Boo, try not to let your head mess with you too bad, okay?”

“I can try.”

“Love you.”

Ranboo smiled, his heart warming at the words. “Love you too.”

The call ended, blanketing the warm room in a cold silence again. Ranboo dragged a hand over his face with a deep sigh. Tubbo really was good at making him feel better-

His stomach growled.

Ah right, breakfast was a thing.

Ranboo pointedly ignored looking at anything that could show him his face. Tubbo had managed to yank him out and over the hurdle this morning, so he was determined not to let the boy’s efforts go to waste. He grabbed what he needed from the kitchen before retreating back to the couch and crashing onto the plush surface. He had meant to stay and do work on his new video for YouTube and plan out a new stream idea, but with his current state, he decided to take on that rest day he promised Tubbo. He threw on Luca, finding it was quickly becoming one of his comfort films and chewed slowly on his breakfast, wrapped up in the blanket again and becoming one with the couch. He tried to ignore the quiet loneliness despite the film, he was used to hearing chaotic laughter and batshit ramblings throughout the house. He shoved down the need to call Tubbo, he was fine. He...he didn’t need his friend... not yet at least.

He could handle being alone for a few hours.

Luca and Alberto were testing out their Vespa when an old, grouchy meow came through the house. Ranboo lifted his head from where he was now lying on the couch to see Rocky, Tubbo’s family cat, sauntering over.

“Hey Rocks” Ranboo smiled at the feline.

With a greeting “mrrp”, Rocky leapt gracefully onto the couch, stepping onto his chest and immediately slammed his face directly into Ranboo’s. It startled a laugh from the teen as the cat continued to smudge against him happily, purrs rumbling from his throat. He had avoided touching his face that morning the best he could, the sudden affection towards it was surprising, but not unwelcome.

“Hi buhud” Ranboo tried to lean away but Rocky persisted, clearly attention starved after not seeing anyone for a few hours. His whiskers skimmed across Ranboo’s cheeks softly, making him giggle and try to turn his head away. However, Rocky was determined to give Ranboo affection and instead rubbed under his jaw, his ginger fur dragging under his chin.

“Ohoho noho- Rohocks!” Ranboo squealed, quickly turning his head down to keep his chin pressed to his chest, trying to block the cat from brushing against the area.

Rocky gave a happy meow and pressed his forehead into Ranboo’s own, purring deeply now that he had access to his full face again. Ranboo giggled quietly, basking in the affection.The soft fur and loving touches on his face was comforting in its own way. It also tickled a bit, he didn’t even know his face was ticklish but apparently Rocky seemed determined to show him it was.

“Rohocky h-hahang ohon” Ranboo squeaked as the cat rubbed against his cheek, his whiskers just tracing his ear and nose. He melted further into the couch, the light sensations made him want to squirm but he couldn’t move without jostling Rocky, and the last thing he wanted to do was upset the cat. His hands were confined to the inside of the blanket, making him unable to fend off the ticklish touches even if he wanted to. He simply lay there, shifting his head around a little but enjoying the affection nonetheless. It was a nice change from the cold loneliness that had settled over the room before.

Eventually, Rocky seemed satisfied with his work on Ranboo’s face and brought his head back, not without giving Ranboo’s nose a small lick. It made Ranboo snort, grinning up at the ginger cat that almost looked smug.

“You done?” Ranboo chuckled.

Rocky meowed, probably saying ‘yes’, then moved down Ranboo’s torso, sitting on his stomach. He sniffed the blanket then started pawing at it, rearranging the folds carefully. Unfortunately, with where he was sitting, Rocky was massaging into Ranboo’s stomach and ribs gently.

It caused the teen to melt into the cushions, pressing his cheek into the back of the couch and giggling wildly into the plush material. “Nohoho Rohocks- ehehehehe!”

Rocky dug his claws softly into Ranboo’s side, massaging his sides in a kneading motion. Ranboo squeezed his eyes shut, happy giggles spilling free. Laughing felt so nice after wallowing in misery for the whole day, the tickling soft and while unintentional, was still nice.

Ranboo suddenly squealed, curling in on himself slightly as one of Rocky’s paws lightly brushed over his lower belly. The cat paused, ears flicking as Ranboo broke into a fit of breathy titters. He then purred and focused on his lower belly, taking the laughter for a sound of joy.

Ranboo managed to wrench a hand free of the blankets, pressing it to the back of his mouth to muffle his squeaky giggles. “Rohohockehehey! Ohoho gohohosh- whihihiy?”

The cat only responded with a pleased meow, shifting his paws to the sides of Ranboo’s stomach. Ranboo’s hand suddenly dropped from his pink cheeks to gently cup Rocky’s back in an attempt to bear the sensations. His plan was flawed however, as Rocky turned his head and rubbed his cheek against Ranboo’s thumb, his whiskers dragging over the back of it and making Ranboo squeak in laughter. All the while, still kneading the blanket.

“Noho- cohohome ohohon Rohohocks-” Ranboo whined but his soft laughter was happy and Rocky seemed to understand that as he purred gaily.

Rocky’s paws went to knead at his lower ribs, slow and methodical and keeping Ranboo in a state of giggly hysteria. He squirmed lightly from the sensations, trying not to jostle Rocky too much. He was surprised at his own resolve to stay still, the most extreme reaction so far being lightly kicking his feet when Rocky stayed in a sensitive area for too long. Rocky was almost too good at pulling reactions from him though, listening to when he giggled quietly or loudly, what made him move more and what made him melt. It wasn’t long before Rocky was keeping his pawing at the middle of his stomach, slow and gentle, keeping Ranboo laughing softly, not uncontrollably.

A few minutes of the gentle massaging made Ranboo sleepy and warm, relaxing into the touch and releasing breathy giggles. He still craved a hug, he’d ask Tubbo when he got back, but Rocky’s repetitive, and slightly ticklish touch had soothed him into a blissful peace. It was so much better than the toxic battle in his head that kept him feeling weighed down. Cats were pog, what more needed to be said?

Rocky then slowed to a stop, sniffing at Ranboo’s hoodie for a moment before nuzzling the material adoringly. The feline waddled back up Ranboo’s chest and lay down, tucking his paws underneath his body. He then lowered his head and shoved it underneath Ranboo’s chin, purring happily. Ranboo giggled as the cat’s whiskers brushed across his neck and jaw again, finding himself relaxing into the affectionate touch easily. Tubbo was right, Rocky was good at comforting people. He owed the cat a lot of treats and hours of cuddles.

He gently pressed his chin into Rocky’s head affectionately. “Thanks Rocks” he murmured.

The feline gave a quiet ‘mrrp’, making Ranboo giggle again. He let his eyes slip closed, melting into the couch and sighing in contentment. The audio of Luca, and Rocky’s rhythmic purring made his drowsiness catch up to him, his sleep schedule was gonna be messed up tonight but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt lighter than he had that morning, and Rocky was warm and grounding, made him feel loved.

Ranboo fell asleep with a smile on his face.

#my fanfic #fanfic #lee!ranboo #ler!rocky #that's a tag now #ranboo #rocky #mcyt tickle #dsmp tickle #mcyt #dsmp

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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About Bakugo, I actually think his original characterization is partly why his arc doesn't work for me: it seems like his contempt for others and desire to hurt them is innate, because he was already insulting and humiliating Deku for fun when they were in kindergarden, and at this age I'm not sure it makes sense to blame the adults around him for this behavior. This is also why I don't buy the "childhood friends" narrative, even before the infamous river scene Bakugo was toxic to Deku.

Hard agree, anon. I'm willing to give some wiggle room to the "Bakugo had a messy childhood and that's why he's like this" argument just because I'm not caught up (and thus might be missing some flashbacks/revelations), no one's life is ever perfect, and there's a subjective line between what we read as innocuous tropes vs. realistic traumas (example: is his mom hitting him something we take seriously, or just classic anime "comedy"?), but honestly I'm... not persuaded by that stance. Largely due to what you've said about this contempt being around since the very beginning. Bakugo's cruelty is the introduction to the entire series, the very first thing we see:

First, they're young here. Maybe not kindergarten young, but as we see in the above narration, it's at age four that Bakugo acquired his "I'm the best" thinking (more on that in a second). They're kids. This is not something that developed slowly over the years until Bakugo crossed some kind of line, he's been like this since the very start. Since a kid is capable of forming thoughts, opinions, and making decisions: like attacking another. In what way does this establish them as friends? Izuku literally shaking as he tries to protect another kid Bakugo is has hurt? Bakugo calling him worthless? Gleefully attacking and punching Izuku in the face? They were never friends! Izuku followed Bakugo around because he was paid some kind of attention by him and Bakugo poisoned the well — no one else in class will befriend Izuku. We see this both by the two willing to help beat him up here and, later, when Izuku says he wants to got to U.A. the entire class laughs at both the idea and Bakugo blowing up his desk in response. The bullying is the only kind of "friendship" Izuku has, so he embraces it with a smile and a nickname. Meanwhile, Bakugo allows Izuku to tag along because he makes him feel good in comparison. All Bakugo needs for an ego boost is to look at Izuku. He's the useless, quirkless nobody whose name can be read as "Deku." What's not to like? Izuku makes Bakugo feel good because Bakugo will always come out on top — always win — when pit against him. Did they have a few good moments gushing over All Might? Yeah, but anyone who has been bullied knows that it's not a clear cut "They were consistently awful every second of every day." Sometimes, those moments of pretend or conditional friendship make everything worse.

(As a side note, I keep hearing the more intense fans of Bakugo saying that those who criticize him identify with Izuku "too much" and it's like... yes? He's the protagonist. You're supposed to identify with him. To say nothing of the question of why you'd include such an explicit bullying subplot — arguably at the heart of the narrative in regards to characterization — if you didn't want readers who had experienced bullying to relate to this story. So it's all about victims like Izuku, you're allowed to care, just don't care in a way that holds Bakugo responsible?)

"But Izuku cares about Bakugo. He tried to help him out of the river." Yeah, because Izuku cares about everyone. Overlooking his warped idea of what friendship is due to having no one but Bakugo, Izuku is the kind of person who is going to extend his hand to anyone who needs it, just like All Might would. His extreme compassion and lack of other friends is not good proof that he cares for Bakugo in any true, healthy fashion, let alone that Bakugo cares for him.

As for when this all started, yeah, it was when they were even younger than in the scene above. Toddlers when Bakugo realized he had a strong quirk and Izuku was told he had none. Bakugo's reaction to these events — deciding he's better than everyone else and that justifies harming those "lesser" than him — is instantaneous. That desire was there all along. He just needed an excuse to act on it. After the conversations about the adults' influence on him, I went back to the anime scenes of Bakugo showing his quirk to his class and it's... pretty normal? I mean yes, there's praise, but in what world wouldn't there be praise? A bunch of other kids are going to ooh and ahh over mini explosions and the two teachers, unless they're entirely heartless, are going to tell this kid that he'll indeed make a wonderful hero someday. Those are standard responses for very young kids who aren't going to understand something like, "That is a powerful quirk and you could be a great hero... just don't let that potential go to your head!" There's nothing in those scenes that imply an excess of praise, at least so much that it would totally warp a kid's perspective of others to the extent Bakugo has going on. If I recall correctly, Bakugo's parents are quite disappointed in his behavior, but that never had an impact on him. And as I mentioned previously, we have incredibly talented characters like Momo (getting into U.A. on recommendation), people like Ida who come from families with other heroes they want to impress, Todoroki dealing with a crazy legacy to live up to, tied up in his abuse... yet none of them turned out like Bakugo. All of that didn't kill their compassion, but adults telling Bakugo he has a strong quirk made him into this person? Bakugo wanted to be that person, right from the start.

Honestly, I think a lot of fans latched onto Bakugo — which is awesome! — but didn't want to admit how horrible he actually is. So they took moments largely out of context and repeated them enough until they became fandom staples. Bakugo and Izuku were close childhood friends who just had a falling out they need to come back from. Bakugo was only like this because the adults in his life drove him to that behavior. Izuku loves Bakugo because he can see how good he is, deep down inside, and definitely not because he's been stuck with him since they were toddlers, unable to escape him even at U.A. It's a very sanitized look at their relationship, embraced because fans want them to be friends or lovers. Which is fine! God knows I'm into a ton of "problematic" ships, I just like acknowledging that they're problematic, not trying to sweeten the situation because fandoms have made others feel guilty for liking anything that's not squeaky clean and pure. Bakugo tormented Izuku for their entire childhood. He encouraged him to commit suicide. He tried to keep him from achieving his dream, both by undermining his confidence and outright threatening him (remember burning his shoulder?). He then reworked that obsession when they both got into U.A., trying to prove Izuku's uselessness, failing, and continually struggling with the thought that he's actually a great hero. And it's like... why do I care? This guy is a horrible person, he's been a horrible person since he was a kid, and his greatest challenge for more than half the story is acknowledging that other people aren't worthless trash. His improvement still hasn't gotten him to the standard of an average person, let alone a hero. If Bakugo were a villain, great, or if the story was going to really highlight the corruption of the hero career as a whole (we take anyone with powerful quirks, no matter how awful they are), great, but as a main character hero whose behavior is supposedly just a cover for a fantastic guy, please overlook everything he does and assume he's worthy of your respect anyway? Ehhh. Why do I care about him as a good guy when there are characters like Ida and Uraraka I could stan? To be clear, I'm not saying other fans can't enjoy whatever characters they enjoy, just that from a storytelling perspective I think it's a failure to introduce Bakugo as such an extreme, make him one of the heroes, give him such a selfish struggle, and then expect a lot of the audience to care. Bakugo either needed to be more balanced from the start — regular flaws instead of such an intense adoration for cruelty from the age of four — or the story needed to unpack his behavior in a way it never bothered to.

#BNHA #My Hero Academia #anti bakugo #mymetas

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palettes-and-prompts · 3 years

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hii! could you please do prompts based on the songs heartbreak weather and cross your mind by niall horan? thank youuu

Sure thing!

Heartbreak Weather

1) "I'm miserable." "Oh." "But I'm less miserable when you're with me."

2) "I can't remember what you taste like." "I can't forget."

3) "Stay with me." "Why? So you can break my heart again?"

4) "I miss you." "I know." "You know?" "Of course I know, you leave voicemails every time you drink. Believe me, I know you miss me." "Do you miss me?" "I don't know."

5) "I love you. I just don't love the person you're pretending to be right now."

6) "I wish you were here with me right now. Things are easier when you're here."

7) "Does Person A make you happier?" "Do you really want to know the answer to that question?" "Not really.

8) "You've been drinking haven't you?" "So?" "So, I don't like you when you drink. Barely like you sober." "I seem to remember you feeling differently a few years-" "That's in the past."

9) "Do you think we could try again?" "So you can hurt me all over again? I don't think so."

10) "You always know just what to say. If only you said them at the right times. Maybe things would be different."

1) Person A gets famous while their best friend, Person B cheers them on from the sidelines. The two remain in contact with each other despite their distance. Person A begins to change and develops bad habits they don't tell B about. Person A flies B out but when they notice who much of a mess A is they try to help them out. Person A refuses their help insisting they're fine. They begin to behave like a jerk to those around them and act horribly, which disgusts B. Unable to deal with the new Person A they decide to leave and tell them to get their shit together. Person A is miserable for a while and sinks deeper and deeper into a depression until they end up in the hospital. Person B is there and takes care of them and A agrees to get their shit together. B stays with them, helping them recover and Person A feels better than ever. Deciding that A needs them Person B tells them they've decided to get a place in the same city. Person A insists they just move in. The two are happy. (Romance doesn't have to happen but bonus points if it does.)

2) After a bad argument Person A and B decide to stop being friends. A few years later they end up getting casted together in the same show only to find out fans ship their characters. The writers decide to write more scenes of them together until they're written to kiss one another. They reluctantly agree and share a kiss. But since it didn't look enthusiastic the director tells them it doesn't look right and that they need to be able to get along. They're forced to spend a week at a spa and bond together. After arguing about whose fault it was for messing up the kiss scene the two call the kiss disgusting but insist it isn't their fault as they're a great kisser. They end up angrily kissing to prove a point but end up going too far and sleeping together. The rest of the spa they spend apart not talking about it. But when it's time for their kiss they both go for it. When filming is over they end up in the same room and just keep sleeping together, but things get complicated when one of them brings up feelings.

3) Person A and B are friends but when A mentions how they feel about B, Person B rejects them insisting they've never and will never see them like that. A is hurt but ends up agreeing them dating would be too weird. Person B distances themselves from A, which only hurts A more. Person B isn't happy apart from A. Person C starts to get closer to A, annoying Person B. B questions why they're friends with C and A tells them the two of them are actually dating and that they're more than friends. B expects the jealous feeling to go away since C isn't trying to their spot as A's best friend, but it stays and they don't like the way C looks at A. B realizes their feelings and openly hates C. A confronts them and after a heated argument, B kisses A. Unable to stop thinking about it, the two end up going to their secret spot at the same time. B admits their feelings and things begin to get complicated.

4) A and B are enemies who are convinced by their friends to go boating with them. The two get stuck on an island after shipwreck. Unable to find anyone else on the island they try to find a way of communication. They figure the others are dead and they're the only survivors. The two set up two camps but find that the other person is able to make the things they can't and has certain skills they lack. They decide to work together and end up surviving their first night. They begin to get closer, discovering that they have more in common than they thought. Frustrated with the heat, lack of good food, and missing the touch of another person the two end up sleeping together. The island brings them closer in more ways than one and they vow that what they do together on the island stays on the island. But when their friends come to rescue them they find that they don't want to leave what they hand on the island behind.

5) When A asks B when they're going to move in together, Person B is confused about why A would think they would do that. A explains that they've been dating a while, but B doesn't remember ever telling A they were in a relationship. A asks about the nights they spent together and how they hang out all the time. B insists they're just friends, hurting A's feelings. A distances themselves from B. Person C, A's coworker, asks A out and they both hit it off really well. When Person C introduces them to their friends, Person B is one of them. Person B explains they've met before but A lies and says they must have them confused with someone else because they don't know them. B is pissed by this and whenever they see each other it's tense. After a big argument they end up in bed together. When B feels something this time Person A tells B to forget it ever happened. Unable to forget they keep showing up to parties and hang outs just to see A. B gets them alone and confesses they feel something for them. Person C overhears everything and Person A is forced to choose then and there what they want.

Cross Your Mind

1) "Why do you stay with them?" "Our relationship, it's bad sometimes. But when it's good, it's good."

2) "I don't care who you sleep around with. As long as you're coming home to me I'm happy."

3) "Sleeping with you is fun and all but it's nothing serious, right?" "Right..."

4) "Don't you want to settle down?" "Where's the fun in that?"

5) "I thought you loved me." "When did I ever say that?"

6) "I want us to be just friends." "And I want us to be more than that." "So where do we go from here then?"

7) "Stay with me, don't go back to Person A." "This isn't supposed to mean anything, Person B." "Can't it just this once?"

8) "I can't get over you!" "Why not? I got over you."

9) "How do you feel about me?" "We're just friends."

10) "Our relationship is just boring. It's not as exciting as it used to be."

1) Person A watches their best friend, Person B, enter and exit toxic relationships. Despite being in love with them they put their feelings aside and always stand by Person B no matter what. When Person B starts dating Person C, things change. They like hanging around C and even though B and C are close, Person A finds them self not hating C's company. When the two are left alone one night they bond over shows and movies and the two almost kiss. Things are awkward between them and they try to ignore it, but when Person B ends things with C, Person A is the first one C goes to.

2) Person A and B are in a friends with benefits situation but Person A ends up falling for B, even though B's state they're not interested in anything more. A continues sleeping with them and doesn't mention their feelings. Person B is the one who decides to end things. Person A figures B must have realized their feelings, but is instead shocked by B admitting they like them more than they thought they would and that their feelings for A make continuing their situation difficult. B admits they should end things and Person A agrees, confessing they want more with them as well, surprising Person B.

3) Person A falls in love with their best friend, Person B, who's been head over heels for Person C for years. When Person B gets the courage to confess how they feel to Person C, A is watching from further away. Person C admits their flattered and that Person B is nice but that they've been in love with Person A for years. Person A and B's friendship is a little difficult after that and interactions with Person C are awkward. After going over all the things about Person A that C could possibly like, Person B starts falling for Person A. While Person B is falling for A, Person A's given up pursuing B and has decided to see if things could work between them and C. When A finds out about B's feelings, things begin to get complicated.

4) Person A is in a relationship with Person B, who's incredibly boring. While A tries to make their relationship more exciting, Person B is more focused on their work. When Person B's work destroys something in their house, Person B is forced to work somewhere else while, A and B's old friend, Person C is hired to repair damages. Person A and C pick up their friendship right were they left off while Person B comes home less and even forgets A's birthday. Person C throws A a surprise party, at which they discover Person C's friends and life are exciting and fun. The two have fun and after getting a little tipsy, Person C admits they used to have a crush on A. After sharing a kiss, A's head is all over the place and they must decide what they want to do about their relationship with B and the feelings brought on by the kiss with Person C.

5) Person A and B are in a relationship. When A and B's friends see B going into a motel with someone who isn't A, they all come together to figure out a way to make B tell A about the cheating or try to figure out a way for them all to tell A together. While all of them are struggling with keeping the secret, Person B keeps sleeping with other people. The longer they keep the secret and distract A from being around B too much, the more stressed they all get. Eventually A is frustrated with the others keeping them from B that they just admit they, along with B, are in an open relationship. The others are confused and A explains that while they don't mind sex, they can't keep up with B who enjoys sex often. A tells them that they're the one who pushed B into having meaningless sex with other people. When B comes back after the conversation they all notice how affectionate they are and how happy they seem with Person A. A explains to B that the others thought they were cheating on them. B explains they've never loved anyone the way they love A. The friends are relieved and able to relax and A explains they're grateful for having friends who worry about them getting hurt.

#writing #lightly nasty #some 18+ content #cheating prompts #prompts #writing prompts #song prompts #write #writer #prompts based on songs #if i missed anything in the tags just let me know #break up prompts #make up prompts

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davidsons89 · 3 years

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Ouu maybe write something where the reader ends up leaving alex and moves away and he tracks her down (in a non creepy way lol) maybe a little fluffy but still “toxic” haha.....

a/n: ooo good one. we love possessive alex🙊

alex turner x reader

warnings: cussing, mentions of toxic ex-relationship, humiliation, arguing, slight stalking?

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑ ✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

after being in a relationship with alex for a few years, you decided that things needed to come to an end. he was extremely toxic. he was controlling over you, he guilt tripped you all the time, he manipulated you with every chance he got. he abused his power and completely changed you. you had enough.

now things are completely different. you hadn’t spoken to alex in well over a year. you moved on, you made new friends, you lived somewhere totally different. somewhere he wouldn’t even know where to find you. you blocked his number, everyone associated with him and you even got a new phone to avoid him tracking your old one down. you knew how obsessed he was, he’d do something like that. that’s why you got rid of him, you can’t stick to one person for the rest of your life, it’d kill you too soon.

“hey y/n. get in i’ll drop you home” your friend tom said to you as you jumped in the passenger seat of his car. tom is one of the new friends you met many months ago, you joined his friend group and rode with them ever since. you’d spent the majority of today hanging with them all, but now it’s late and you needed to head home.

“hey. thanks” you say as he begins driving to your apartment to take you there. “you’re welcome. i wouldn’t offer anyone better” he giggled flirtatiously. you giggle back and resume conversation with him. “meaning?” you imply with a smile. “you’re the kindest of them all. you have a heart of gold” he smiles at you. you somehow agree with him. you deserve the best for what you’ve been through.

after making small talk the whole way there, you eventually reach your apartment complex and say goodbye to tom by giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. he watched you enter the building safely before driving off. you smiled and waved him away before walking upstairs to get to your apartment, luckily it wasn’t too many stairs. you hate elevators.

you finally enter your apartment and lock the door behind you. you trust nobody, especially when living alone. you kick off your shoes and pull your top off, roaming around the place in just your bra and shorts. who cares? you’re alone. or at least you thought...

you drop your body down onto the sofa after grabbing some snacks to watch a movie. you found something that caught your eye on netflix, and began watching it. about 20 minutes into the movie you needed to pee, so you paused it and stood up to walk to the bathroom. you spent a few minutes freshening up before walking back out. when you got back to the living area, you noticed your bag of chips had moved. you frowned in confusion, but you didn’t think too much of it. you just shrugged it off and sat back down, before you heard a crunch right behind you. you quickly turned around and noticed alex stood behind the sofa eating your bag of chips. you scream in fear and quickly stand up, pressing your hand to your chest to make sure you weren’t having a literal heart attack. he slyly smiles at you.

“w.. how.. what the hell are you doing here?” you nervously speak, not knowing what to even ask. “you didn’t think you could hide from me forever, did you?” he chuckled as he continued to eat your favorite chips. you frown and hesitatingly take a step forward, grabbing the bag from his hand and snatching it away. “i wasn’t hiding. we’re done. you have no reason to be here” you gulp, frowning at him. your nerves made you feel sick to your stomach.

“you’re done. not me. i never got to say what i wanted to” he shrugged, his voice bringing back memories of old times, times you didn’t want to be reminded of. “then what?” you ask, wanting him to finish saying whatever he had to say before you kick him out. “you broke up with me, then you leave town like you’re some criminal. i talked to your family and they said you haven’t spoken to them in months” he raises his eyebrows. “i don’t want to talk to them. i’ve moved on, i have my own life” you roll your eyes. a moment of silence struck upon you both. “and i’ve certainly moved on from you. so can you please get out?” you ask in the politest way possible.

he ignored you and just simply stared you down. “so who was that guy you were with?” he asked after a few moments of silence went by. he looked toward the window and pointed at it. “my friend tom. my friend” you raise your voice at the end to emphasize him being just a friend. “friends don’t kiss each other” he forced a smile as he looked directly into your eyes. “what, a kiss on the cheek? grow up.” you roll your eyes in annoyance at him. why is he even here?

“i have grown up. you’re the one that hasn’t. still as bitchy as ever, running away from everyone. you call that adult behavior?” he chuckles at you. “i came here to get away from people like you” you raise your voice at him, completely forgetting you’re casually stood in your bra and shorts, you catch him looking away from your face to look down at your chest. you cover your boobs by crossing your arms over your chest. “my eyes are up here” you huff. he looks back up. “you get a boob job or just gained weight?” he snickers. he hasn’t spoken to you in a year and yet he still humiliates you even he gets the chance.

“oh you fucking asshole. get out” you raise your voice and shake your head at his audacity, immediately cocking your finger toward the front door. he laughs at you, making you feel stupid. you put your arm down and roll your eyes. you’re feeling too many emotions at once to focus on one. “what? they were never that big” he shrugs, still snickering.

“ok, you came here to humiliate me, now be on your way” you say, avoiding eye contact with him. “oh y/n. i came here to say sorry” he says softly, taking a step closer to you but you back away. being near him was the very last thing you wanted.

“that’s your way of saying sorry?” you scoff sarcastically. the anger in you was making you laugh. “no. i’m sorry” he says, turning completely serious to apologize for the unnecessary comment he made. you sigh through your nose and ignore him. “really, y/n. i’m sorry. i came here to apologize for how i acted towards you” he started, until you wondered something.

“wait. how did you know i was here?” you frown at him. he had no way to find you, it’s quite concerning. “i have my ways.” he chuckles awkwardly. “no, seriously how?” you ask again. you thought you had yourself hidden pretty well, but clearly not.

he took a deep breath before responding a few moments later. “maybe you shouldn’t post as much on social media. i had to take one look at your friends profiles to find where you were” he smartly smiled. you frowned however. “you don’t even have social media” you say. “maybe i don’t.” he shrugged weirdly, there’s something he didn’t want to say but you brushed it past you. “how did you even get in here?” you ask. the door to your apartment was locked. “maybe you also shouldn’t hide a spare key in a very obvious place. i could’ve been a serial killer. BAM, you’re dead” he joked, bending his fingers to make a gun gesture with his hand. he raised his voice and pretended to shoot you, causing you to flinch. he noticed it.

“hey, i was only joking” he calmly says while putting his hand down, not wanting to startle you even more. “can you please leave? i don’t want you here.” you say nervously, your emotions riling up inside you. you begin to feel shaky, meaning you were about to cry. you tried bottling up your emotions and tried your hardest to keep your tears in, but alex knew you too well. “y/n don’t cry. come here” he says, opening his arms to take a step closer to you. you already made it clear that you didn’t want him near you, but you were too distracted by your crying. you tried hiding your face as he pulled you into a hug, burying your head into his chest. “hey hey. it’s ok, shhh” he whispers, holding onto the back of your head to make you feel safe. you slightly did, but you promised yourself you wouldn’t go back to him. ever.

it soon came into realization that you were stood half naked hugging your horrible ex, crying on him. you immediately shifted out of his grip and stepped back, not realizing how close to the coffee table you were. you accidentally tripped over it, causing you to stumble back. luckily, alex caught you before you fell and hurt yourself. he helps you regain your balance before you push him away. “don’t touch me” you say. you wanted to hit him so bad for all the pain he caused you. you hated his guts. but right now, you can’t hate him.

he surrendered his hands and took a small step back to reassure you that he wasn’t going to touch you. you felt a little better. “please get the hell out” you shake your head and point to the door. he looks out the window and notices the pouring down rain. “i came all this way, and you’re gonna kick me out, out there?” he says, pointing to the window. you notice the harsh rain and rethink your words. you huff in a moment of silence and look at him. “want a coffee?” you asked in shame, avoiding eye contact with him. you felt terrible for letting him stay, but you’d feel worse if you kicked him out in the cold.

he nods and accepts your offer. you invite him to sit down while you walk to the kitchen to make two cups of coffee. you felt like a total fucking idiot, you kept telling yourself ‘don’t be stupid’ in your head, but tried to keep it cool. no matter what happens tonight, he’s never coming back. not ever. you know better than that.

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfic

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melanielocke · 3 years

Text

Lost in the Shadows - chapter 5

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

CW: mentions of PTSD, mentions of alcoholism and past abuse, mentions of past toxic relationship

Taglist @nott-the-best @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon

The thick fog that hovered above the ground made the forest seem like the scenery out of a gothic movie. Not that Alastair minded, he felt at home among the trees, in the darkness. He and Thomas had met after breakfast before Lucie or Cordelia had woken. Alastair had always been an early riser and he was glad to see Thomas was too. More than that, though, Alastair was a poor sleeper. He had frequent nightmares and so far he’d found nothing that helped. Not even his stuffed hedgehog, which he was ashamed to admit he still slept with.

‘Look. Over there,’ Thomas pointed, his finger aimed at the ground.

Alastair followed his gaze and saw a small hedgehog, walking along the shrubs. Hedgehogs were nocturnal creatures, he knew, it wasn’t common to see them during the day, even in early morning. It was adorable.

‘Aw. I love hedgehogs, they are my favorite animals,’ Alastair said with a small smile that was rare these days.

‘They suit you,’ Thomas agreed.

‘How exactly?’ Alastair asked.

‘Well, you’re prickly and need to be handled with care or you’ll sting, but when you can look past that you’re actually adorable.’

Thomas’ cheeks flushed a dark red. ‘What I mean is,’ he began, but Alastair interrupted him with a grin.

‘Adorable, huh?’ he said.

‘I guess so,’ Thomas said. ‘Cordelia told me you still sleep with your stuffed animals. She said your favorite is a hedgehog.’

‘Little traitor,’ Alastair said.

‘I sleep with mine too,’ Thomas admitted. ‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I have several owls. I just sleep more comfortable that way. I need something to hold on to.’

He was surprised Thomas didn’t judge him. He felt his father would have, had he known, but he’d been too drunk to notice.

Alastair’s smile returned. ‘Now that is adorable. To tell you the truth, I keep mine around to protect me from nightmares.’

Thomas frowned. ‘Does that work?’

‘Not really. But at least holding onto something helps me relax enough to fall asleep.’

He could lie awake at night sometimes. Lately, Alastair was always tired. He did what was expected of him during the day, but he never felt rested or energetic. Even after a long night sleep with minimal nightmares, he woke tired and staying in bed didn’t help.

They talked about all sorts of topics, history, books they read, what Alastair’s first year at university had been like. Thomas told him about previous summers, which they’d usually spent in Spain. He’d spent enough time there to be fluent in Spanish now, partially because his parents had studied there and his father liked to speak Spanish at home. Alastair was surprised how easy conversing with Thomas was. He’d always struggled with making small talk, with keeping the conversation going, but Thomas didn’t shy away from more serious topics and seemed genuinely interested in what Alastair had to say.

He and Thomas continued their walk, and Alastair could tell something was bothering Thomas. He was tense, his shoulders a bit hunched. Alastair had learnt to sense when people were anxious or tense and tended to get nervous himself whenever that happened. He wondered if he’d always been hypersensitive to other people’s moods, or if he’d learnt after having to anticipate his father’s moods and then Charles’ for such a long time. He narrated a description of his surroundings to himself in an attempt to ground him in reality, to calm down enough that he could help and support Thomas. He felt useless, what was the point in being able to read people if their anxiety bothered him so much?

‘Are you alright?’ Alastair asked after a silence.

‘Why do you ask?’ Thomas asked, his voice uneven.

‘Because you seem anxious about something. Is it about me? Are you still mad about what happened at school?’

Alastair had always been more tolerant around Thomas himself, but he’d treated Thomas’ friends awfully. All he felt right now was a horrible guilt and regret for what he’d done. For how he’d justified his actions, telling himself that it was better than being bullied, that what he did wasn’t as bad as what other students had done to him. All empty excuses, and it had never been alright.

‘It’s not about you,’ Thomas said. ‘And I’m not mad. I can’t say I understand why you did it, but I know you were going through some difficult times. Besides, it happened so long ago. James and Matthew are still upset, I think. But they’re not here. I don’t think Matthew would like it much here anyway. He prefers to spend his holidays shopping and drinking at bars until late night.’

Alastair tensed a bit when Thomas’ mentioned Matthew’s drinking the way he always did when alcohol was mentioned. Once he’d been able to take care of his drunk father with little emotion, pushing everything to the bottom until he was sure his father was alright and Cordelia wouldn’t discover he wasn’t ill. Nowadays even mentions of alcohol or drinking tended to make him feel sick, as if an invisible hand was clutching at his stomach, at his heart. Just breathe, he told himself.

‘Oh shit, I’m sorry,’ Thomas said. ‘I’m not supposed to mention alcohol around you, am I?’

Alastair sighed. ‘I take it everyone knows, then?’

Alastair still found it difficult when people knew about his disorder. It was difficult to ask for adjustments, to admit a weakness and ask people to not drink in his presence, to ask people to change their own behavior for his sake. He knew most people wouldn’t be willing to do that, and he’d much rather not ask and pretend everything was fine. But eventually he’d had to admit to himself he just couldn’t handle being around people drinking and alcohol was so normalized in Britain it was difficult to avoid sometimes.

‘Not the particulars,’ Thomas admitted. ‘But Mr. Herondale warned us that we shouldn’t drink, nor discuss alcohol when you’re there.’

‘It’s fine,’ Alastair said. ‘As long as I don’t see you drink, or smell it on you, it’s fine.’

People talking about alcohol could be difficult, but he could manage. He would. Matthew Fairchild was across the sea, and him drinking alcohol didn’t harm Alastair. It wasn’t his problem.

‘You don’t seem fine.’

‘It’s not easy, but it’s alright. I can handle mentions of drinking,’ Alastair said.

He hated how some people who knew about his diagnosis had started to walk on eggshells around him, like he was a bomb that would explode the moment someone said something wrong. It made him feel like he was fragile, broken, like there was something horribly wrong with him, when Alastair desperately tried to convince himself that wasn’t true. Deep down, he knew it was true though. He knew there was something wrong with him and that he wasn’t normal and would never be.

‘You don’t have to,’ Thomas said. ‘Look, I don’t think you want to talk about it and you don’t have to. But if you want to talk… I’m here for you, alright? I can promise I am a good listener.’

Alastair nodded. ‘You still haven’t told me what’s bothering you,’ he said in an attempt to deflect.

Alastair took a sip out of the flask of water he’d taken to carrying with him. Ever since starting paroxetine, he often had a dry mouth. He’d also gained some weight. Risa in particular was very happy with that development. Before starting his medication he’d been underweight, often unable to eat because of his nerves. Aunt Risa had worried about his weight loss, and had been very happy when he had started eating again and gotten back at a normal weight.

Apart from that no side effects, and Alastair was mostly glad his medication didn’t cause any sexual dysfunction because he’d heard that happened sometimes. Even if he didn’t have a boyfriend now, he guessed he wanted one someday. He tried to ignore the voice in his head, reminding him that no one would want to be his boyfriend, that he wasn’t worth the effort. Charles had often told him he was difficult to love, that other people wouldn’t bother, and Alastair had believed him. Part of him still did.

The effect taking antidepressants had was only partial, paroxetine on its own wasn’t enough to treat PTSD, but when it came to this specific disorder it was the most effective out of all antidepressants. Alastair had agreed to give it a try. Two months in, it was definitely better than nothing and he had more good days, but he hoped the EMDR treatment he would be starting after the summer was more effective.

‘It’s something that happened yesterday,’ Thomas admitted. ‘I’m not sure I should tell you.’

‘You can trust me to keep your secret,’ Alastair promised. ‘But you don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.’

‘You know your cousin Jem used to fight the evil creatures of the supernatural, right?’ Thomas asked. ‘And your father too, before…’

Before he’d started drinking. People who knew about his father’s past as a hero sometimes said it was the price he’d had to pay, for seeing so many horrors and fighting for so long. Alastair hated it, it made him want to scream. What about the price I had to pay?

It was what had set him off when Jem had come over for dinner, not aware that anything was wrong with him. His cousin had talked about the struggles of life as a hero, the effects it could have on someone. Later, Alastair had learned his mother had become so desperate she’d confessed Elias’ addiction to Jem and had asked him if he could convince him to seek treatment.

Jem had agreed, and had used Elias’ past heroism as a gentle way to bring up the problem, but Alastair had felt as if Jem was trying to justify his father’s addiction and by extension what he’d put his family through. He’d screamed at Jem, at his father, at everyone present really. What about the people surrounding such a person? What about the people who were hurt when a hero’s burden became too much, did they not matter? Horrified at his own outburst, Alastair had ran to his room and attempted to calm himself by putting on Metallica and turning up the volume until he could block everything else out. When Jem had come upstairs, Alastair had expected him to be angry. Instead, Jem had been worried. It was the first time someone had realized his moodiness wasn’t just a “turbulent adolescence”, as his parents had long thought.

‘Yes,’ Alastair said. ‘When I was younger, my father would tell me stories about the creatures he’d fought and defeated.’

Once he’d loved listening to his father’s stories. Once he had sat down in his father’s lap and asked him to tell him about the incubus in Greece, or the kelpie in Scotland. Now he only wondered if his father had been drinking already back then. He wasn’t sure when it had gotten out of hand.

‘Well, I can see them. What I mean is, I have gift that makes it so I can see anything without having to learn at all. My mother and my oldest sister Barbara have the same gift.’

Alastair nodded. ‘So does my aunt Risa,’ he said. ‘She taught me and Cordelia how to see.’

There had been times in his life where he’d felt like Risa was the only person who cared about him. He hadn’t dared tell her about his father’s alcoholism, desperate to keep his family together and in one piece, but she’d been there when he needed her. No one else had done that for him. She used to take him to see the gnomes play in parks, since she didn’t have a garden of her own. She used to cook and bake in her kitchen with him. Risa was a cook in a local Iranian restaurant and had taught him everything she knew about making good food.

‘Yesterday, I walked into the woods and I encountered the washing woman. They say seeing her is an omen of death, although in my case it could just be that she didn’t intend for me to see her, but with my gift I see her anyway.’

‘I’ve heard of such creatures,’ Alastair said. ‘You must not approach or they might attack and paralyze your legs. But if you can sneak up on them, they are said to grant a wish.’

Alastair thought not so long ago he would have given it a try if he’d seen such a woman. He might have asked her to fix his family, or at least fix his father’s alcoholism. Nowadays, he wasn’t sure what he’d ask for. Fixing his father’s alcoholism wouldn’t cure his PTSD, it wouldn’t allow him to love or trust his father again, wouldn’t erase the past years. Perhaps he would ask for a cure for his PTSD, but he didn’t think such a thing existed, he wasn’t sure what exactly the result of such a wish would be. Nor did he know who his father would be without his addiction. He did not think his father would love him sober either. The best he could hope for was that EMDR treatment would help him.

‘Well, I ran,’ Thomas said. ‘But not before it called out to me. Warning me about some unpaid debt from my grandfather who made all sorts of deals with dangerous creatures.’

Alastair had heard plenty of stories like that from his father. There were all kinds of creatures that generally left humanity alone, but could trick people into making deals with them. It usually ended badly, and sometimes required intervention.

Alastair tried to think, was Thomas in danger? He’d always known about the supernatural, of course, but preferred to stay away from it. Cordelia was the one who had been given their father’s magical sword, and although Alastair hated the idea of her living the kind of life Father used to live, it suited her more than it suited Alastair.

‘From what I learnt, deals with supernatural entities often go wrong,’ Alastair said. ‘Is your grandfather still alive?’

Thomas shook his head. ‘I never knew him. Apparently he turned into a giant worm and uncle Will, uncle Jem and uncle Gabriel had to kill him. My parents are trying to look into it a bit more, but it’s difficult since my aunt has all his journals, his possessions, and isn’t willing to share. According to my father, his mother died as a result of his dealings, and my cousin Jesse might have too.’

Alastair wasn’t sure what to think. He had heard some vague stories of the Lightwoods and Herondales who used to fight dangerous creatures, but had no idea a relative had made such deals. Of course, he didn’t think his father had been involved in this. His cousin Jem had carried cortana for one of two years before retiring and giving it back to Elias.

‘I think something might be after me,’ Thomas added. ‘I was often sick as a child, and so was Jesse. No one could figure out what was wrong with me.’

Alastair frowned. ‘I don’t remember you being sick often when we went to the same school. You were always there, trailing behind me, I would have noticed if you were absent often.’

‘I grew over my sickness when I was almost fourteen, we met soon after that,’ Thomas said. ‘I always kind of took it for granted, since no one could tell me what was wrong with me I figured it was normal I’d grow over it eventually. But I got better around the same time Jesse died, and then my aunt Tatiana, Jesse’s mother, came by our house and yelled at my parents that it should have been me.’

Alastair frowned. ‘And you think that means that your cousin dying had to do with your grandfather’s debt?’

‘My aunt believed it, at least.’

‘But what does that have to do with you getting better?’ Alastair asked, not sure if he could make sense of that theory.

‘Well, both Jesse and I were sick. I didn’t know him well, Tatiana kept him away from us, but he did know Lucie and she told me his symptoms were almost exactly the same as mine.’

‘And it’s not a genetic disorder?’ Alastair asked.

‘No one else in the family was sick, just me and Jesse,’ Thomas continued. ‘I got tested for pretty much everything they could think of, all negative. They couldn’t find out what was wrong with Jesse either. My grandmother already died as payment for what my grandfather did. So it’s not that farfetched that Benedict owed them a grandchild or something and they had to choose between me and Jesse. Except Jesse’s death wasn’t enough, and now some creature came to warn me I’m next.’ Thomas looked resigned. ‘I think I’m going to die.’

Alastair took Thomas’ hand, hoping that would not be too forward. ‘You’re not going to die,’ he said. ‘I have never heard of debts being passed on to next generations, or going on for so long. From what I’ve been told, it usually ends when the person who made the deal dies.’

‘Not in this case,’ Thomas said. ‘Jesse got lost in the woods where he lived and died. People searched, but no one could find him until he was already dead.’

Alastair could tell Thomas was getting more and more anxious and Alastair wasn’t sure how to help him. He couldn’t say for sure that was Thomas was saying was wrong, even if he still tried to think of more mundane explanations for what was happening.

‘But getting lost in the woods is not supernatural, is it? If we strayed off the path here, it could be a while until we found our way out.’

‘Yes, but the woods where he got lost weren’t big like here. Realistically, they should have found him much sooner. That’s weird, unless there was magic involved. It wasn’t particularly cold either, it happened during spring.’

Alastair had to admit that was odd. Not all forests were big enough to get lost in and die. Even here, he suspected if they didn’t make it back, people would raise alarm soon enough and find them long before they could die of natural causes. Of course, their chances of surviving a couple of days might be better than those of a twelve year old boy.

‘Could the entity that claimed Jesse’s life have picked him over you because you have the sight?’ Alastair speculated. ‘That’s something you inherited from your mother, isn’t it? Jesse didn’t have that.’

‘It is,’ Thomas confirmed. ‘No one in my father’s family has it. It feels kind of awful, doesn’t it? That I lived and got better because Jesse died?’

‘That’s just speculation,’ Alastair said sharply. ‘Don’t beat yourself up over things we can’t prove. But there is something we could do to gather more information.’

‘Beyond convincing my aunt to give us those journals?’ Thomas asked.

‘So, I haven’t done this with someone else in a very long time. Perhaps it’s best I show you.’

Alastair chose a neutral memory. He had considered a happy one, but he didn’t think he’d be comfortable sharing any of that with Thomas, not yet. Besides, he didn’t have many happy memories. It had to be nice, with his ability, to have infinite happy memories he could revisit at any time. Instead, Alastair mainly got caught in the bad ones. He picked a memory from a lecture on the history of socialism. Alastair remembered being horrified at some of the comments other students had made, only later had he realized Charles probably agreed with them. But that wasn’t the point right now. Instead, he showed Thomas a bit of the start of the lecture. The professor was animated, talking about the subject like it was the most interesting thing ever.

‘Was this at university?’ Thomas asked when they were back in the woods. ‘What did you just do?’

‘I showed you a memory of mine. Not a particularly interesting one, but it gets the point across. I can revisit any of my memories.’

‘That must make it easy to study for exams,’ Thomas said, but it wasn’t accusatory. Alastair sometimes felt like using his ability was cheating, but what was the point of having a magic memory if you didn’t even use it?

‘I do need to remember where the information I need is. So if I don’t remember the answer to an exam question, but do remember which lecture it was discussed, or which book, I can go back there. Fortunately, I am also good at studying and usually know where to look.’

Alastair had a whole library inside his head. At home, he kept a list of every book he ever read to organize it.

‘But how will that help?’ Thomas asked. ‘Is there anything you remember?’

Alastair’s dark eyes gleamed. ‘No, not related to what’s happening to you. But you have your memories. Perhaps your parents remember things, details they didn’t think were important at the time. I can help you rewatch your own memories, help you recall things you might have forgotten. It is something that I do not usually do, as it feels rather invasive. But if it helps save your life, I’m willing to give it a try.’

Thomas nodded. ‘Yes, of course. You can look in my memories all you like if that’ll save me.’

#Alastair Carstairs #Thomas Lightwood #Cordelia Carstairs #Lucie Herondale #Thomastair #Lucelia #fanfiction #fic #the last hours #tlh #tsc

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kitkatopinions · 3 years

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I feel the need to hear your opinion on this since this is something I've been thinking about recently, and it's how crwby handles complex relationships/abuse in their show... It's infuriating.

I can't tell if they genuinely think they are writing this in a good way or if they know they're half asss-ing it and don't care since the fandom will eat it up anyways. Two big examples that come to mind for me in the last volume are emerald & cinder and whitley & jacques. In both instances the the victim never gets a moment of closure or a moment of breaking away from their abuser, nor are either victims allowed to show any sort of 'hesitance' (for a lack of a better term) related to their abuse.

Emerald (despite being all over cinder before Midnight), just conveniently forgets about her for the finale. Same for whitley. He just completely forgets about jacques (the man who manipulated him from birth) the moment weiss hugs him. On a shallow level, watching a victim pay no mind to their abuser is satisfying, but it being so immediate is just unrealistic and takes away from the pain that we are supposed to think these characters have suffered.

One of the worst things about suffering from abuse is how is affects the victims even when they have left the abusive relationship, but crwby seems to want to erase that completely from characters who should experience that for plot convenience.

It seems like the lesson learned from this is "if you were abused, just get over it and be convenient to our heroes or else!" And it's pretty gross imo.

Thoughts?

I thought that I would put these two asks together and take this opportunity to talk about the abuse victims in RWBY and how they're handled. I've tried to think long and hard about what to say about this, because this is an important topic to me and something that's personal for me. I'm an abuse survivor, but I have a complicated relationship with that part of myself and I'm never really comfortable talking about it much. But despite the fact that I've experienced abuse, I recognize that I'm not a professional sensitivity editor, not a therapist, and not someone who's studied the effects of abuse.

I'm simply writing this based on my own feelings and what I've picked up witnessing other abuse victims discuss their own feelings about abused character. There will be RWBY criticism below the keep reading. Please keep in mind that I'm not speaking for all abuse survivors and am only trying to articulate my own feelings in regards to this issue.

The first thing to note is that there isn't one, correct, right way to write an abuse victim in my opinion. Lots of people have different reactions and responses to abuse, the way they were abused is often also different, causing different reactions.

In the first anon, it's noted that Emerald and Whitley both seem to move on from their abuse quickly and with very little effect on them or their stories. Many abuse victims put their experiences on the back burner or 'in a box' to deal with later, or mask and pretend that they're alright or that their abuse just didn't happen. Some of them let their feelings or their anger simmer over time. There are also abuse victims who do just... Move on with relative ease. I'd imagine that's very rare though. (again, I'm not not an expert or any sort of psychologist.)

In the same way, an abuse victim becoming an abuser in their own interactions is something that one hundred percent happens. Cinder, Salem, Adam, and even Blake and Winter have all acted in abusive ways towards the people around them (though obviously Blake and Winter acted much less abusive than any of the villains mentioned.) It might be very hard for abuse victims to not fall back into those patterns of abuse that they've suffered, especially if they go through it at an early age. I'm not very comfortable talking about my own experiences, but myself and my siblings have all had to fight down toxic, hurtful traits that we picked up either through emulating or through survival. And it's hard to do that. Portraying characters who have been abused that lost that fight and might have abusive tendencies or slip themselves is - to me at least - sometimes even helpful in working through my own feelings.

And there are definitely one hundred percent abuse victims who feel like the way they were treated is deserved, that they 'earned' it, that they must 'make up for it.' Oz is in this category. There's nothing wrong with the concept of a character who feels responsible for their abuser or the hurt their abuser has caused to others, there’s nothing wrong with a character who tends to act as though everything is their fault and who thinks very poorly of themselves.

In theory. But the problem is that in application, there are a lot of pitfalls and struggles that come with writing for abuse victims. Understanding, thoughtfulness, and care are not the RWBY writers’ strength, and any time you portray real life issues that strongly impact the real life people involved in them, you have to be aware and careful with the messages you’re sending. This is obviously very important when someone writes for any minority or oppressed group or the issues that they face, but it’s also important to remember when you write for abuse victims, because they do have stigmas around them and deal with stereotypes and harmful portrayals as well. Let’s look at what I consider some harmful or hurtful pitfalls when it comes to abused characters.

Are the abused characters treated as the victims they are? If the abuse a character faces is treated as comical, treated as unimportant, or treated as deserved, that’s an obvious major flaw. Sad to say, but RWBY does not pass this. On two separate occasions, a character is hit by someone close to them in a way that clearly causes them some pain, with Blake hitting Sun across the face for following her, and Winter hitting Weiss for answering a question incorrectly and again for failing in her training (I tend to be more sympathetic towards Blake’s situation, as it is more gray with her clearly thinking Sun had stalked her which is a clear trigger from her own abuse, but this is an explanation, not an excuse and the fact that it was framed as funny rather than something Blake shouldn’t have done and should apologize for is the problem.) They also do not treat Ozpin like the victim when Qrow punches him in the face, having no one call Qrow out for it and having him never express guilt or try to apologize for it. Yes, I know Ozpin had retreated, but they never showed Qrow even make an effort to get Ozpin to come back so he could apologize. . They also ‘redeem’ Hazel and give him a ‘partially right’ storyline despite his openly beating Ozpin, unfairly blaming him for the death of his sister, and insisting that Ozpin deserved to be tortured. On top of this, despite having been horribly abused by the SDC, Adam isn’t treated with even an ounce of sympathy or understanding and Jacques Schnee and the SDC is treated like a more comical-ish nuisance in season seven and eight. This is greatly flawed. Hitting someone because they lied to you or kept secrets from you is not okay, hitting someone because they said something you don’t like is not okay. This should not be treated as funny and it shouldn’t be treated as the fault of the person who was hit for not being a good enough friend.

Are the abused characters mostly villains, when the heroes have never faced it? The reason for this is obvious, although it’s valid to have a villain be an abuse victim, it’s never alright to villainize abuse victims. Making the majority of your bad guys abuse victims and your good guys have positive relationships is in my opinion, harmful. Point for RWBY, this is not the case for their show. Mercury, Salem, and Cinder on the bad side are all abuse victims with Raven being a possible, but unconfirmed abuse victim as well. While Weiss, Blake, Ozpin, and Whitley are also abuse victims, with Qrow and May both being possible, but unconfirmed abuse victims, and Winter and Emerald are both abuse victims who were on the side of a villain and then turned good.

Is the abuse more severe in the ‘bad’ characters and lighter in the ‘good’ characters? If the abuse that the good guys faced is mostly lighter things and the abuse that the villains suffered is worse and more severe, that might send some bad messages that people who suffer more are automatically worse people, or ‘unsalvageable’ or ‘too broken,’ as opposed to the people that ‘there’s still hope for.’ Unfortunately, I think RWBY is almost a tie? We’ve never seen Weiss or Emerald suffer more than a hit, we don’t know for sure that Whitley or Winter were ever victims of physical abuse. Ozpin and Blake’s abuse is worse, however, as they are hunted down by their abusers who attempt to murder them, make them suffer, and hurt their loved ones. They also were heavily emotionally manipulated and victim blamed by their abusers. And on the villain side, Mercury was beat by his father who hated him and stole his semblance (an extension of your soul, I believe, in canon,) and the abuse led to the loss of his limbs. Cinder was forced to work hard labor by her abusive employer and the ‘stepsisters’ treated her badly, and she was physically electrocuted. We see her abuse extend to Salem using her Grimm arm to hurt her, copying the effects of the necklace. Adam was also a child laborer who worked in terrible conditions who got his face branded by his employer, in the SDC, which had to have been anti-faunus charged due to his bull horns. We don’t see Salem ever physically abused, but know that she was mistreated, isolated, and neglected by her ‘cruel’ father. So it’s not quite a tie, there are more severely abused characters amongst the villains than the heroes, but this is close enough that I don’t consider this much of a strike against them.

In the villains, is the abuse they faced given as ‘reason’ for their villainy? As I said before, villainizing abuse victims isn’t the way to go. A good way to avoid this - I think - is not have abuse be the sole reason for someone’s fall into a life of crime or cruelty. This is something that RWBY... Fails at imo. When showing us Mercury’s backstory, we’re introduced to him through seeing that he had just killed his abuser who cost him his legs, and then gets recruited by Cinder who at the very least likely emotionally and physically abused him the same way she did with Emerald, leading to the conclusion that the only reason he’s there at all is due to abuse. However, he’s just a teen and it’s possible that (like Emerald) he’ll be redeemed. A much more condemning story to talk about is Cinder’s. After people had been clambering for a Cinder backstory since volume three, RWBY finally showed us one. But it doesn’t include Cinder meeting Salem, why she joined her, her proving herself, none of that. Instead, Cinder’s backstory was entirely focused on her abusive situation as a child, entirely focused on her suffering. Cinder killing her abusers and then killing the teacher who decided to arrest her for getting herself out of her abusive situation was portrayed as the only needed backstory, the explanation to why she’s a power hungry, abusive, cruel, selfish, and just plain evil person. ‘She was abused’ is the explanation for why Cinder is where she is and why she is who she is in RWBY. That’s highly problematic to me.

In the heroes, are they “the Perfect, Sanitized Abuse Victims?” As I said before, there is no one type of abuse victim, but if someone has several abuse victims and they’re all either submissive, sad, and self-doubting, but gentle and caring and soft or dropped their abuser like a hotcake and never looked back, never seem affected, never really talk about it after they left... That’s bothersome to me personally. Measuring how RWBY is in this particular subject is... A little harder than I thought it would be. Let’s start by looking at the most prevalent abuse victim, Blake. She’s one of the reasons why this is hard to gauge, because for the first five seasons, Blake was deeply flawed and clearly affected by her abuse in ways that made her ‘unappealing.’ Blake was cynical, stubborn, cold, hard to get to know, she didn’t trust easily, she lashed out at her friends regularly, ran from her problems, made choices for her friends, and had a very negative self image. This didn’t stop her from being a good character and friend with a lot of good sides, too, and she had real, important friendships. This was - to me - a really great portrayal of someone clearly affected by their trauma, with lots to work on, who was still a good person. Some of her faults and problems started to get resolved in a natural way through her journey with Sun in volumes four and five, but when season six came around, many of Blake’s other traits suddenly vanished. No longer stubborn, independent, or cynical, and no longer standing up for herself, or really displaying her temper or hardheadedness or her struggles with getting to know people... Blake became more submissive, sad, self-doubting, but gentle, caring, and soft. Sigh. As the first ask mentioned, Whitley and Emerald both seemed to drop their abusers quickly the second they were removed from their lives again. it’s also worth noting that Whitley was treated with nothing but coldness and contempt by Weiss until he ‘proved himself’ by doing something selfless. Weiss did more or less drop Jacques the moment she left her house in V4, only mentioning him or her experiences when she’s using it to talk about Blake, and when she confronted him again in V7, she did so as someone who is proving she no longer cares. Ozpin seems to be the only one still unable to move on from his abuse and the ‘unappealing’ abuse victim. The first anon is right, there’s something satisfying with seeing an abuse victim move on like their abuser didn’t matter. But when almost all your abuse victims do, and one of the only other ones is turned into a submissive and soft support based / romance based character, and the only really ‘unappealing’ abuse victim is someone we’re supposed to see as ‘gray’... There’s something off there, in my opinion.

Were the abuse victims treated respectfully and thoughtfully by their friends, and if not, were they portrayed as wrong? This probably isn’t something that really even needs an explanation. Abuse victims should be able to set their own boundaries and tell their stories only when they want, when they feel comfortable, Their friends should be understanding of this and not force anything from them. In the case of Blake and Weiss, this is handled really well! Their friends let them talk about their experiences in their own time, and they’re understanding and validate their feelings when it comes up (much more common with Blake than with Weiss, who like I said, seemed to move on from her dad quickly after she left.) However, when it comes to Oz... This is all wrecked. Although unintentional (no one knew how deeply tied up with Salem Ozpin was or how intimate the memories they were going to watch were,) our main characters still forced Ozpin’s deepest and most personal secrets out of him in a fit of upset while he was tearfully begging them not to. He was forced to relive his most traumatic experiences in hi-def with other people watching with him, all his secrets and all his abuse wrenched away from him in what was clearly a very painful way. And then no one showed Ozpin even the slightest bit of sympathy or understanding for what he’d gone through, and no one ever apologized for what they had forced him to relive. In fact, Team RWBY were clearly displayed as in the right, and Oz was displayed as completely wrong for not trusting them implicitly. He had to apologize to them, which they acted begrudgingly accepting of as if they hadn’t shouted at an abuse victim after forcing him to relive all his worst experiences.

Are some abuse victims portrayed as bad for things that other abuse victims aren’t portrayed as bad for? Like the second ask says, in RWBY, Cinder and Mercury are treated as villains for having killed their abusers and Cinder is almost arrested for it, it’s considered a step in the direction of their villainy. But Blake is (rightfully) treated as the victim who was forced, who had no choice, who just wanted the abuse to stop. This is hypocritical and fundamentally flawed. I think this is a reflection of the fact that Cinder and Mercury are meant to be ‘bad’ abuse victim, who had violent tendencies and anger issues, and were already featured as bad guys before their backstory’s dropped, whereas Blake was meant to be a better abuse victim who (by season six) was starting to get written as a soft girl who just wanted to help her friends.

All in all, although there’s some things that I think that RWBY did well enough, I definitely think that I would consider their portrayal of abuse victims to be lacking. This is just my opinion and the way I feel about the writing, but there are a lot of ways to look at it. I think overall, I just really wish that the RWBY writers had been a little more sensitive and spent a little longer focusing on the character arcs involved in abuse recovery. (There’s still a chance for Whitley, Weiss, and Emerald to get more focus in volume ten, though, so long as the writers don’t timeskip!)

#rwde #rwby criticism #rwby critical #rwby hate #rwby bashing #tw; abuse #trigger warning; abuse

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futurewriter2000 · 4 years

Text

Too Late for Love

A/N: Oh God, it was a long one but finally I finished it. I know it took me a long time to write it but I DID! I tried putting all of my best in there. Though I think I could have made it better but it’s already long so I didn’t want to make it too long. I hope you like it <3 I love torturing James so much

REQUESTED BY @whyevenbotherrightsstuff : Hi can I have a request for James Potter that you and him are going back and for to each other like friends with benefits you are in love with him but you see that he still chases after Lily and you are tired of it and eventually end it and move on and he sees that you are with someone else and it just makes him jealous. Sorry that that's a long one you can decide the ending if you want.

It was as if it was an addiction.

You knew it was bad. You knew it was toxic but still, the pleasure from it was more appealing than recovery.

It's like that heart and brain saying. Sometimes you have to listen to the heart, sometimes you have to listen to your brain. However, never listen to your wild hormones, sex parts, and a horny, Gryffindor teenager named James Potter.

He was leaning over you, eyes staring down- not staring, rather observing, watching you seductively.

"Last night..." he lifted your chin, placing his lips on yours gently. "... last night was perfect." he pulled away and you smiled.

"It was?"

"Yeah but we should really just-" he heard some footsteps and quickly backed away from you, leaning on the wall and crossing his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat and continued. "Just find someplace else- you know... I don't want people talking."

It felt he pulled a string through your heart and sliced it in half.

Your smile wanted to drop but you kept it all the same as none of his words affected you. "Yeah-" you backed on the wall as well, chewing your lower lip as you tried to think clearly.

He could watch you biting your lip and he just thought back- back into that night, that perfect night where your bodies just moved so perfectly together. In such sync, harmony even.

He never thought he would be one of those guys that would have someone just for sex. But you and he had so much chemistry. You and he had more than that. He could be comfortable with you, know all your sweet spots and be sure he won't fuck up. It was complicated at first because you and he took each other's virginity and both of you wanted it that way.

You didn't pressure him into dating you immediately and he had told you that he is in love with another girl; Lily Evans.

Yet he couldn't stop thinking about it because the first time was extremely awkward for both of you. It was clammy, hot, stiffed, sweaty, sticky and he didn't really know what to do.

But there was a look i. Your eyes that just told him that it's okay and to be honest, he didn't want to suck at sex, so he asked you for a "favor". Just to perfect the sex, learn, explore, and please, find what makes each other tick.

It turned into just playful fun later on. It wasn't even planned anymore. The two of you would be sitting on the sofa, talking and laughing, and the next thing you know both of you were naked.

It was pure fun.

He used you and you used him and neither of you cared. Right?

Wrong. What do you expect?

For you, James was your first and it hurt like hell at first but it was as if... You could see yourself with him. Not just in the physical way, not just sex. Sometimes, in moments, there was something between the two of you that wasn't just sex. It was intimacy. It was love- for what you thought and you knew that he knew it too.

He should, right?

Wrong again.

He was James Potter. He and the right way were really best friends.

---

It was neverending torture. It was. For you, for him, for you mostly.

He kept leaning over to her, touching her, whispering to her... Flirting. It cramped your heart, your stomach, your whole bloody body to just see them.

It didn't anger you. It saddened you because all you kept thinking was: So there was just sex? There was just pleasure? Just fun? No intimacy? No love?

And you could feel your throat squeeze like someone poured a sour lemon into it, causing you to look away.

It hurt. It hurt because you were in love and he wasn't.

The ring was your salvation. It was your biggest, purest salvation because you couldn't wait to just run away and cry. It sounded pathetic but it was as if you couldn't help it anymore.

You were so stupid to believe you two actually had something. You were naive and gullible to fall for his manipulative lies and deceiving eyes. You were so furious at yourself because you let him get close to you. You let yourself love him when even in the slightest of his body that you kissed and touch, wasn't a chance of him loving you back.

But when you call the devil, the devil comes.

You could feel his hand on your shoulder without even looking at who he was. Your teary eyes flickered to the moving figure and he didn't even care enough to look closely and notice.

"Tonight, ten?" he grinned, backing away and winking.

You stood there for a moment, looking yourself at the ground and just exploding. At first, it was soft. "No." your voice quivered but it was just enough laud for him to hear it.

"Exams can wait. Homework? Bleh!" he brushed his hand, standing still.

"No, James." you shook your head, feeling your heart squeeze at the sound of your own realization. You looked up, a tear falling down your cheek and catching his attention.

"Wait- (y/n), darling." he started speaking softly, approaching you as if he cared.

He didn't! Get it to your head, (y/n)! HE DOESN'T CARE!

He reached for your hands and at first, you wanted to hold his hands but you shouldn't and so you hid them away from him.

"Why are you crying?" he asked. He asked as if it wasn't clear.

"Why am I crying?" you repeated his question, more tears, one after the other and each of them without your permission. "I can't do this anymore. I can't have sex with you and thinking it doesn't mean something to me when it does!"

He watched, his eyes falling into concern, pity maybe?

You scoffed, letting out a fake laugh and running both of your hands through your hair. "I won't do this anymore."

"Why not?!" he snapped, furrowing his eyebrows and glaring in disbelief.

"Because you're in love with someone else meanwhile you're shagging me!"

That snapped something inside him. Hurt? - No. James couldn't be hurt.

"We said- we put the rules! You, me, and no strings attached!"

"Yes, exactly." you leaned back, lowering your tone. "No strings attached." you rolled your eyes but tears keep falling and your whole face was soaked in the. "So why is it so hard for you to just agree with me if everything was no strings attached?"

"Because I need to know why? Did I do something wrong last night?? What did I-"

"Merlin, James!" you groaned from frustration. "I fell in love with you! And I kept this going because I thought you might love me back and today I came to the realization that you don't. So I am stopping this before it gets complicated."

"It's not complicated!" he started to panic, unaware of the reactions in his body.

"It is for me." you said. "I don't want to be like some girl you bang until you get your perfect girl. I want to be loved more than just in private. I want to share that love with the world." you started smiling to yourself. "It's okay, James." you spoke gently, calming his nerves as you always seemed to do. "I get it and I won't make it complicated, I swear. I won't try and get between you and Lily- you won't even see me. It was fun while it lasted." you shrugged, digging your hands into your pockets and walking by him. "See you around."

And James stood there. He stood there unable to know what had just happened.

It seemed selfish from his side but that's who he was. He told you that... And instead of getting all fiery and furious at him, you told him you just don't want to.

I mean, if you really were in love with him, wouldn't you want to use all the time you had with him before he gets Lily?

... He shook his head, smiling to himself.

It's over. You and him are over. At least he wasn' the one to break it. It's easy and simple, you won't complicate it.

He 's happy. He is.

It's all for the best anyway. The sex was great but that's all it was. Sex. He can focus solely on Lily now.

---

And he did. He focused solely on her- on the girl he has been chasing for quite a while now. And although he didn’t want to admit it, and pretended as if it wasn’t there- he could feel you missing.

Before and during your interraction, it wasn’t always physical. The two of you talked- well, more just plain, traditional talk. It was much more deeper than that. He told you everything, even the things he wasn’t aware he thought or felt. He told you all of his dreams, felt like he could tell you everything- every thought in his mind and you wouldn’t judge him.

You wouldn’t. It was so simple. You would listen to him talk about everything in his life, sometimes leaving a comment, laughing to the funny stories and the horrible jokes he cracked. The two of you told each other how your days went, which professor pissed you off, judging other people, studying...

It really was more than sex.

His favorite thing about you and him was the infuriating, fast debates about the things both of you disagreed about. The expression on your face would be so adorable when you defended your side of the debate. Your lips pursed themselves together, your chin would tense up as your eyebrows would draw themselves together.

He smiled to himself but the smile dropped when he would see you on the other side of the class, Great Hall or corridor. You would look at him but look away as well.

The two of you could still be friends even if he was with Lily?

Wouldn’t that be much simpler than the tension both of you feel now?

---

And like always, you were correct.

He dated her now. He would sling his arm over her shoulder and whisper something in her ear as he used to do it with you. His lips that once kissed you wholly were now pressed on her skin, his body next to hers.

She had him... and you didn’t.

That hurt. That hurt like hell and it wasn’t until three months you started to realize that you need to move on. Three long months of healing, trying to piece yourself together again. He broke you and he didn’t even care. You told him you loved him and for you, that was something heavy on your heart but for him, it was like a sweep under the rug.

So, it was time you brushed those tears and move on. It took you a few tries, falling back down and getting back up thinking it won’t hurt anymore.

But it did and at times it felt like you won’t ever be able to get over him.

You did though. You haven’t realized it until you saw him kissing her and it didn’t affect you as much as it used to. It was as if you were used to it already. It was something normal, something you saw every day, something... someone just moving on with their life and you’ve come to a realization, you could be that too.

And you were.

There was this boy in Hufflepuff. He was always your partner in most classes, asking you if he could copy your notes or that if you could help him with homework. Whenever he needed something for school, you were his person and you thought that for a long, long time.

You didn’t mind helping him. You knew he wasn’t serious for school, he told you that too many times. He just wasn’t serious. He was calm and relaxed, pretty much let life take care of it by itself. Whenever you were with him, you felt just the same. He made your worries go away, your body just go back into a calm state.

He reminded you that you could over-worry yourself, overthink, overstress and he was there to take all of that away. Put you on firm ground and explain to you that life is just simple, it’s your perspective that’s changing it.

He started opening up. Like a clam that was forever shut. It took you by surprise when he became so loose around you. For a long time, you wondered what he wanted from you because usually he did but all he wanted was to talk and you seemed to realize that he really was not the person you thought he was.

You talked with him every day. He told you about his thoughts, his days, and everything that was going on. To be honest, you loved listening to him because his mind was so much more expandable. He was a maniac for art and music, that was why he hated school so much. It restricted his creativity.

He was an artist that was why his silence was so pleasant. He’d sent you a letter that he is coming to your house, you’d wait for him on the sofa by the fireplace and he would come in his sweatpants and a hoodie, two different socks and completely messy dark hair. He would just sit down, both laughing and talking at first and then he would pull out his sketchbook and pencil and draw you. His eyes were like tropical water. It would be coral blue and if you looked closely there was such a gorgeous green colour. It didn’t change. Not even at night when the two of you would just be sitting or lying by the fire, you could still find his eyes so mesmerizing.

It didn’t take him long to tell you he liked you. It took the two of you two weeks before he would just blurt it out.

He drew you for the third time by then and he would turn it around, grinning. “What do you think?”

“What I always do. You’re incredibly talented and I look too damn good.” you started to tease but he only let out a chuckle and moved closer.

“You do.” he was now beside you, looking at you so deep into your eyes. “And did I tell you that you look beautiful today?” he tilted his head to the side, eyes still stuck on yours as a blush crept on your cheeks.

“I- uhm.” you smiled, looking away and letting out a soft giggle.

“Why are you turning away?” he asked, clearly teasing you a bit.

“I don’t know.” you turned your head back and he was much closer than he was before.

His eyes flickered down to your lips and his tongue subconsciously licked both of his lips. “You don’t?” he started moving in as you nodded, smiling as his lips lazily approached yours. He licked your upper lip just to tease you at first, smiling as he pulled away and could see your lips pulling themselves in like a magnet. Your hands placed themselves under his jaw and behind his neck, kisses slow, lazy and a bit careless.

It drow you wild how slow he was and as he saw you rush in, he pulled away, grinning cheekily at you as he brushed his thumb over. “Why the rush?”

“Why the delay?” you quirked an eyebrow and he smirked, moving back in and kissing you much more deeply but still slow.

Though this time it didn’t drive you as wild as before when he only teased with his tongue, slipping in and out. Now kisses were full and whole, intimate and consuming. He would lay you down on your back and press his body against you, kissing your jawline with slow, gentle and wet kisses, leading down to your neck and causing you to let out heavy breaths. But his kisses were so addictive that those heavy breaths weren’t breaths anymore but moans and you weren’t patient enough. You wanted him. You tried to pull him back up, kiss him with all the fire he lit inside of you but when you did try, his eyes flickered with mischief and torment, making you realize you just got the devil. His one hand grabbed your hands and lifted them above you, another free one, unbuttoning your shirt and placing soft kisses on your bare skin.

One thing you did not expect was the Head Boy making his night rounds before bed. One, clear thing you did not expect was hazel eyes setting on the couple kissing and touching at the fireplace.

It was the way his hands touched your skin, gently at first and digging his fingers into you as if you were his. The quiet moans you let out weren’t meant to be for him- no not for the Hufflepuff.

All thoughts ran through his head like a train- a second only before the rage filled his body and he stormed over, tackling the boy off you.

It took you a while to realize what had happened but before you could, they were already fighting on the ground, one on top of the other and otherwise.

“THE HELL JAMES!!” you shouted, grabbing him by the arms with all your strength and pulling him off. “GET OFF HIM!” you shouted at him, trying to cover your bare breast with one hand as the other kept pushing him away from the Hufflepuff.

Luca, who was panting as much as the other boy was glaring but smirking as well as it seemed to provoke the Gryffindor. “Thought a Chaser would punch better than that.” he wiped the small amount of blood from his lips.

James wanted to go back at him but you pushed him yet again. “JAMES!” you glared at him. “What the hell?!”

“Yeah, (y/n)! What the hell?!!” he snapped at you as well, pointing his hand at the Hufflepuff. “Luca Oliveira?! Him?!”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business?” you finally buttoned up the part that would cover your skin, taking a step back and closing to Luca.

You could feel his hand take a hold of you from behind and you gladly took it as he always did bring you comfort.

“This tosser?!”

“OI!” You felt Luca storm by you but you quickly pulled him back.

“Luca no!” you pulled him back, trying to calm him down and placing your hand on his chest, trying to catch his gaze. “Luca.” you put your hand on his cheek and brushed it lightly until his eyes looked at yours- from fire to admire. He smiled sweetly at you, putting his hand on top of yours. “Let me take care of him.”

“You won’t- I mean-” he started to panic but you quickly smiled and shook your head.

“Just go get a pack before it gets swollen.” you sent him away and barely left the room, shooting James an ugly glare.

When he left you turned back and tucked the ends of your shirts to your sides, making him scoff and roll eyes. “Oh, come on (y/n)! It’s not something I haven’t seen.”

“Yeah, well it’s something only me and Luca get to see from now on!”

“OH! Who do you think you are? Made of gold?”

“Might as well!”

“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re just one of many girls. There are others with much better bodies than you!”

“Well, then you won’t mind me covering my skin, would you?” you continued to button the shirt until you saw Luca’s hoodie over the armrest and threw it over you, only goading the boy in front of you.

“Cute.” he glanced at the sweater, turning it into an eye roll.

“You jealous?” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Jealous?! JEALOUS?!!” he continued to laugh in disbelief. “Why would I ever be jealous of him when I’m with Lily?!”

“I don’t know, James! Why would you ever attack Luca like that? Why would you tackle him on the ground and punch him?!” you started to get more furious, causing him to be silent as he contemplated. “You said it yourself. No strings attached-”

“Yeah well, you broke it first by falling in love!”

“And I told you I won’t complicate and stand between the amazing, hubba-bubba love you and Lily have. Did I attack Lily? No. Did it hurt? Yes but I sucked it up because that’s what maturity is! And when you clearly didn’t care half of shit for me I realized that I need to move on as you had clearly moved on with Lily!”

“Don’t say I didn’t care for you! I did!” he pointed his finger at you, growling and glaring at you.

“WHERE?!” you snapped, opening your arms and looking around. “Where did you care for me?! The sex part? That wasn’t caring- it was pleasure. What Luca gives me isn’t just pleasure, it’s love and I gotta say James I feel loved when I’m with him.”

“But do you love him?”

“I don’t know. Do you love Lily?” you stared at him and he stared back, the tension between the two of you building.

“I have to.”

“That’s not clear enough. Are you in love with her?”

“What do you mean?”

“Love isn’t an obligation, James.”

“WELL FINE! I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU!” he blurted all of a sudden, just as he did with you and his feelings he wasn’t aware until they were said. He stared at you for a while as you stared back into his eyes, feeling your whole world turn upside down.

You started backing away. “No.” you said, your voice quivering.

“I guess I am in love with you.” he smiled to himself, finally feeling his heart function properly. “I am in love with you- I love you!” he beamed and ran to you, taking your hands into his. He wanted to kiss you but you just couldn’t do it.

“No, James!” you pushed him away again.

“What do you mean no? I love you. I finally know now-”

“NO!” you shouted, shaking your head and running your hands down your face. “You don’t get to realize it four months later and come running back to me as if I had waited for you. I moved on! I healed! I don’t want you anymore. You’re too late!”

And it felt like the heart that finally started beating died away.

“You can’t.”

“You’re with Lily.”

“I can break up with her.”

“I’m with Luca.”

“You can break up with him.”

“I’m not breaking up with him.” you watched him. “Don’t you get it, James. I’m moved on from you and I fell in love with another person. I fell in love with someone who isn’t afraid to show how much he loves me. He’s vocal about it, he holds my hand, he’s not afraid to tell me what he feels and I love that about him. He makes me feel amazing about myself and with you? With you, I felt like just someone there for you.”

“That’s not a bad thing.”

“Yes, it is! Because you were NEVER THERE FOR ME!” your voice cracked and your tears started to appear. “We talked about you! We did the whole sex deal to please you! We never once made a decision based on my needs! And I needed to be loved! I needed love. I needed support and someone to turn to.”

“You know you could always turn to me.”

“No.” you shook your head. “I don’t trust you anymore.”

“Please, (y/n).” he took your hands in his again. “Give me a second chance. I can prove it to you. I can love you. I can cherish you more than any man can. I can show you how much I love you-”

And to you, that felt like everything you wanted to hear from him... once. Once when you told him you were in love with him. Once when he looked at you but still chose to kiss her. Once in all those four months.

Not anymore.

“No.”

“I just realized! I didn’t know I loved-”

“No!” you shouted, ripping your hands away from him and crying. “You loved me?!” your voice continued to crack, barely letting out any sound. “Did you love me when you kissed her? Did you love me when you chose her over me? Did you love me when you saw me in the hall and decided to ignore me? Did you love me when you made love to her? When did you love me?”

“I DIDN’T KNOW!”

“Well, neither did I, James and that’s not my problem. Not anymore.” you started to pick up your stuff, turning him your back.

“You can’t do this? If you loved me, you wouldn’t turn your back on us so fast.”

“It took me months to get over you. Why would I want to get back to you when I have such an amazing guy waiting for me with a bruised lip?” you smiled as you thought of him. “Turning my back on us is the least thing I could do after what you did. You didn’t give us even a chance.”

“You don’t love him.” his voice quivered, his eyes tearing up. “Do you?” his voice was so weak by now that it sounded just like yours months ago.

You knew how much it hurt him but once you lose trust into someone, it’s hard to get back and you just couldn't’ go back when you’ve come this far.

“It’s too late, James. I just don’t want you anymore.” you shook your head and started backing away, seeing tears fall down his cheeks as you did.

It squeezed your heart to see him broken but you and James stopped existing a long time ago.

“Please.” you could hear his plea behind you, causing you to lose so much strength in your body, you could feel your legs go numb.

This was the hardest part, (y/n).

You looked over your shoulder to find him there standing in defeat and tears. “No.”

The hardest but finally the last.

#james potter imagine #james #james potter x reader #james potter #marauders fanfiction #marauder #marauders era #the marauders #marauders ima #Marauders imagine #Marauders imagines

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ifbrd · 3 years

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Not Sugar-Coated, ToBecky Critique from a ToBecky Shipper

Let’s talk about Tobecky and it’s toxicity! And for once, let’s not hold back! I think what I’m gonna do for this post is focus on the dynamic they have in the show, mostly criticizing my own misogyny but calling out the fandom in general as well, as I’ve seen other’s do these same things. Later I will reblog it on the Word Up blog and continue my thoughts on the ship and how it affected Word Up.

The first thing I will say is that I am a Tobecky shipper, ever since Tobey’s first shorts when it was revealed he had a crush on WordGirl. I started watching this show as a kid, I would have been 9 or 10 when it started airing on PBS. If I were to get into this show today, however, I don’t think I would be shipping tobecky, because as an adult I can recognize its toxicity which I didn’t have the proper knowledge or understanding to do back in the day. And I think the real reason I still ship today is purely nostalgic. Though I won’t deny that their dynamic is interesting and that likely affects my shipping brain too.

As a kid, I think I shipped it because, well it seemed inevitable. It seemed like the only endgame option. How many romcoms start with a girl liking one boy, only to realize later she should be with a different guy, usually an underdog the audience is supposed to root for. How many romance stories start with the two not liking each other, ranging anywhere from minor annoyances for each other to full-blown enemies, only to later understand it was all a guise to hide their true feelings. It seemed obvious that Becky/WordGirl would end up with not Scoops, whom she had a crush on, but instead Tobey, the underdog she always was fighting or arguing with. Factor in Tobey’s crush, my very underdeveloped ability to think critically, and the fact that the writers in early seasons seemed to really take the time to focus on the potential chemistry between these two (their interactions in “Department Store Tobey” and both of them having a good time together in “Have You Seen the Remote?” etc) and it seemed there was only one boy for Becky to logically end up with.

The first time I can recall really questioning this ship, I mean really questioning it, was sometime in probably my sophomore or freshman year? Maybe my junior year? I recall my health teacher teaching us about healthy vs unhealthy relationships. In this unit, I realized several of my favorite ships across various fandoms were unhealthy but that’s a whole other topic. At one point I remember him giving his two cents about the phrase “opposites attract” when being applied to romance. He said this can be true, but only if the two are “opposites” in personality, and not “opposites” in values. If a couple’s values, their morals, don’t align, they probably aren’t going to make it. And in all honesty, I think Tobey and Becky have the worst possible combination for this.

They have very similar personalities, and while this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, it can make it easier for them to encourage their negative traits instead of helping them overcome them. The traits they both share like pridefulness, attention-seeking, and being a bit obsessive, have the potential to be the traits they bring out in each other. The best counter-argument for this is the fact that Becky is willing to and would call Tobey out for everything wrong or ridiculous he does, and try to help him. But that doesn’t matter if Tobey is not willing to listen to her when she calls him out, or accept her help when she offers it and he needs it. And it’s especially worthless if he’s not willing to help her back.

Meanwhile, the biggest weakness for this ship is their opposite values. Their morals couldn’t be more apart from each other. Get these two together for long periods of time and a morality war would easily ensue. And then combined with if their similar personalities do end up bringing the worst in each other, then any relationship they could have would be disastrous.

The worst issues with their pairing all go back to Tobey. I love Tobey as a character, don’t get me wrong, but we need to be honest, and please excuse the language--Tobey is a piece of shit! He is disrespectful to everyone around him, except his mother, and that’s only because he’s scared of her He thinks he’s better than everyone else and has no issues expressing that opinion, even going as far as to try to define words for WordGirl. He goes as far as to belittle her in “Tobey or Consequences” criticizing her word choice. He has been shown on multiple occasions to lose his mind when he doesn’t get exactly what he wants and will do anything to get it, without regard for others’ property, feelings or safety. He’s manipulative as seen in “Tobey Goes Good” and “Have You Seen the Remote.” He’s unwilling to take responsibility for his actions, as demonstrated when he attacks the candy factory for making candy because he got a cavity, instead of realizing that he should have taken better care of his teeth.

And worst of all, despite what he and the audience often believe, he clearly doesn’t give a single shit about WordGirl. If he cared about her he would have acknowledged her disinterest, if he cared about her, he wouldn’t have tried to force Becky into admitting she’s WordGirl in “By Jove, You’ve Wrecked My Robot.” If he cared about her, he wouldn’t have pretended to be good or trick her into spending time with him or forced her to read poems about him. In the Halloween special he thought Violet was WordGirl just because she was wearing a WordGirl costume, failing to acknowledge that Violet is blonde and white and WordGirl is clearly not.

The episode “WordBot” makes it very clear what kind of relationship Tobey wants from WordGirl--and it’s not a relationship. It’s a dynamic where she simply showers him with never-ending adoration and does whatever he wants. Tobey cares about one person and one person only and it’s not WordGirl, it’s himself.

And I’m not even counting “Go Gadget Go” in any of this! That episode put him in such a bad light that most fans pretend it doesn’t exist because his behavior is so inexcusable. And yet even without that episode, we have plenty of toxicity coming from Tobey’s end.

I once saw someone say they hate the tobecky ship because the argument for it often is that Becky will be willing to put up with Tobey when they’re older. First of all, if that’s your argument in tobecky’s favor you need to go take a good hard look at yourself. Becky putting up with Tobey’s messed up behavior is essentially hoping she ends up in a horrible, toxic, unhealthy, relationship that would be borderline abusive if she didn’t stand against him. Secondly, while I don’t deny the existence of this argument, (I once read a fanfic where the two were married but still a hero and villain who battled regularly) I disagree with the idea that this argument is most often used to justify the ship. Instead, the most common argument to justify it is the idea that Tobey has it in him to change. This is certainly a better argument, as Tobey changing is really the only hope for this ship.

But I think it’s really easy for us, myself included, to struggle with the line between finding evidence that Tobey could change vs excusing his actions; the line between finding an explanation for his behavior vs finding an excuse for him. It’s a very easy line to accidentally cross without realizing it. And it really says something when, as discussed in another post, we are not giving other villains like Victoria--who have more of an “excuse” --the same treatment. It’s incredibly misogynistic.

I’m not going to try to argue that Tobey doesn’t have the capability to be good, of course, he does. We can see this in the cute note he leaves in Becky’s backpack in “Trustworthy Tobey” and in the very last moments in the Thanksgiving special, and of course in our favorite example, “It’s Your Party and I’ll Cry if I Want to.” I’m also not saying that Tobey’s actions and psychology aren’t the product of the environment and circumstances he faces daily. Of course having no father figure present, a single mother who is always working, and no friends is going to affect a child. What I want to question is when is Tobey responsible for his own life, choices, and actions? Maybe not now at age 10-11, but what about when he’s 13? 16? 18? 21? 40? Where do we draw that line? I also don’t want to discourage looking for the good in people and characters and thinking critically about how their past and psychology is affecting their actions. I want to encourage that in all characters, not just the boy who happens to have a crush.

And while it’s nice to speculate that Tobey will follow a better path in the future, not so much for tobecky as much as for the betterment of Tobey himself, we need to realize that it’s just speculation. We have no canon proof of where his story goes post-WordGirl. He has his moments of hope but overall this kid has a terrible track record. When it comes to others, Tobey makes terrible choices. And that’s exactly what “going good” will be--a choice--his choice.

I also want to take a moment to talk about something @fromtheplanethexagon said in this amazing post you should totally read because it’s great. They commented on how very few people when writing tobecky fanfics takes the time to explore her perspective of their feelings for each other. Where her feelings originate and why she would like him. This is something I am absolutely guilty of and will be paying attention to in the future. After reading that passage from their post I thought for a while why Becky would like Tobey, and I honestly struggled with it a bit, which shouldn’t be happening if I’m trying to write a healthy tobecky story. That’s all I’ll say on this for now because beyond this I would use Word Up as an example, so I’ll save that for later.

The older I get the more I realized how toxic this ship is. Heck, who knows what I’ll realize about it in the future when I’m even more mature. In the past I’ve tried to convince myself it’s okay I ship it because I never shipped Tobey with WordGirl, I shipped him with Becky. I know they are the same person, but Tobey doesn’t know that, and the dynamics between him and each of her egos are very different. The dynamic between Tobey and WordGirl reminds me of Gideon and Mabel from Gravity Falls. Meanwhile the one between Tobey and Becky reminds me more of the one between Jimmy and Cindy from The Adventures of Jimmy Neutron. That’s better right? Even if just a little bit? Well no, not really, because we all know darn well if Tobey fell for Becky instead of WordGirl he would treat Becky exactly the same as he treats WordGirl. He would ultimately have the same “WordBot esc” expectations. If anything he might try to treat her worse. With WordGirl there is a clear power balance, and while it’s still technically there with Becky, Tobey doesn’t know it’s still there and might try to use that to his advantage.

And to conclude I’d like to add to @fromtheplanethexagon above-mentioned post (here’s the link again, seriously, read it!). Regarding their final thoughts that it’s fine to explore the ship, and it’s fine to explore the unhealthy parts of the ship. But we need to be careful to not glorify the toxicity of the potential pairing.

#wordgirl #becky botsford #tobey mccallister #tobecky #misogyny #toxic ships #shipping #pbs kids #okay that link to the victoria ask post...i'd only look at it on mobile #i linked it to my blog and i guess my blog layout doesn't like that post the order is completely mixed up???#guess i have to find a new desktop blog theme because that can't be happening #it's very confusing

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rosebloodcat · 3 years

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A Harry Potter Confession/Rant

Ya’ll are free to ignore it if you want. I’m putting it under a Read More so it won’t clog up the dashes of anyone who doesn’t care about it. If you DO click the Read More, be warned, this got really frigging long.

Firstly, I want to say I love Harry Potter. Like, I really love it and it means a lot to me.

It was an introduction to fantasy for a lot of people. It’s created amazing communities, connected people around the world, and spread a ton of wonderful, uplifting messages.

The kind of power that comes from Love, that something as simple as caring can make huge difference for another person.

Harry Potter has gotten a lot of people to think critically about the world around them, and reminded them that things aren’t always as wonderful as they first appear.

It touches on things like racism and classism in a way that people can understand. It tackles things like morality and how it is different for every person who sees it. That doing what’s right wasn’t easy, and sometimes even the best intentions could make things worse instead of better.

The stories are amazing and suck people in. The foreshadowing is done well in each book and lends itself to the stories in subtle and fantastic ways.

No one had written a series like hers and took off as well as what she’d created. There had been other Magic School-type stories before, but she’d found the right channel to send it out. And now it’s something everyone can name and talk about.

For me, the great thing about Harry Potter was the doors it opened.

How modern fantasy for kids could be written. How a magical community could work in modern world (along with all the good and bad things that were in it). How something as amazing as magic could stay hidden for as long as it had (and the effects it had on everyone involved).

It’s community and the people mean so much to me, and it’s become a strong center to my own views and life.

But that doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to it’s flaws.

Looking at the way the world works, and the relationships of the people in it, gives a very clear view of Rowling’s flawed world view.

And people have written entire essays on all the flaws of her writing, so I don’t think I really need to go into tremendous detail about them all. But I think I can sum the basic idea of it pretty well.

Yes, she can write a great story. But that doesn’t mean she wrote a great world. (As all of her post-story retconning shows.)

Looking back, I openly admit many instances in the books had red flags that showed how bad things actually were.

From character relationships to the corrupted government, the racism and classism, the sexism and abusive undertones. Even just the shitty tracking of things between stories and blatant ignorance of how schools and societies should function!

There are so many flaws and screw ups I can hardly keep track of them all.

So many of the character relationships read as abusive or horribly fractured, that would leave more broken hearts and hurting feelings than should be let stand.

Ron/Hermione is one “couple” I can think of. They’re constantly fighting and at each other’s throats, and had only ever tried to get along due to being friends with Harry.

They’d be that couple who would always be fighting and breaking up with each other and separating, then forcing themselves back together because “This is how love it supposed to be, right? We always fight because we love each other. It’s why everyone said we were like an Old Married Couple. Right?”

(No, that’s not how it works. I know some people still ship them, but I feel like they’re better off friends than lovers. It’s less hurt for them both.)

Or Mrs Weasley, who ruled her house with an Iron Fist and would force her family to follow whatever plan she had set up for them.

From destroying the twins projects and trying to force them into a Ministry job, or her obsessive coddling of Ron and Ginny, or even forcing her husband to not talk about his hobbies/passions and making him need to work in the shed just to enjoy things he liked.

She drove of BOTH of her oldest sons away from home with her overbearing nature, yet so few people seem to see the problems with that.

Remus and Tonks getting together out of grief and just about falling apart when she got pregnant. I honestly don’t know if they were in love or were just together to deal with their grief. (Which would definitely cause problems later down the line if they’d lived.)

(And let’s not get into Harry and Ginny. I think that’s one pairing that everyone else has already beaten into the ground.)

The fact that all of these are the GOOD GUYS, the people that usually show some form of ideal the writer has, says a lot about how Rowling thinks love should be.

The Ministry is so blatantly corrupted and poorly planned, it’s a wonder the Wizarding World hadn’t just flat-out collapsed on itself yet.

Rowling goes out of her way to argue against everything she’s set up that would have made it possible to save the Wizarding World from it’s own corruption. From ways to get around the Truth Serum to blocking people from entering minds to find the truth.

She’s making thousands of excuses for why she didn’t use her own tools to make things easier for her character, but the actual reason is simple. So simple that if she just said it, she could have avoided all the problems people had with it.

She wanted a corrupt government for the story she was writing.

That’s it. That’s why there were no trials with Veritaserum. Why prisoners weren’t interrogated by people who could preform Legilimancy. Why no one had to swear magical oaths to prove they were telling the truth or weren’t on the Dark side.

I can’t speak for anyone else, but if she had just said that instead of making excuses, I would have been fine with that. Sometimes, as writers, we have to admit that the reason we didn’t do things that would have made it better for our heroes is because we needed things to go bad.

AND THAT’S OKAY. Not every story needs to have a million well thought out arguments for why the bad guys were able to get as far as they did. Sometimes we just need to say “they were really corrupt/clever” and that’s fine.

Rowling was really bloody lazy, had no idea how to do things practically, and had a ton of sexist/racist/toxic views that she really should have just kept her mouth shut about.

A ton of the issues in Harry Potter go back to this.

Her researching skills were terrible even when the things she needed to look up would have been as simple as looking at the weekly paper. (The price/value of gold is literally something you can look in the weekly news paper to find.)

She never looked at how culture differences would have effected things when she talked about “international” magics and said things that were just plain stupid because of her lack of research.

(The Mahoutoko School of Magic. ”Mahoutokoro” literally translates into “Magic School”, meaning the school is called “The Magic School, School of Magic.” I don’t think I need to explain why that’s stupid.)

She had no idea how to arrange a schooling/class schedule and was completely oblivious to how understaffed her magical school was. None of the class schedules made sense, none of the arrangements made sense, and even the number of students in the school makes no sense.

(Without getting into how many schools of magic there are in the world when you consider the size of the human population.)

Then, of course, there are the racist/anti-lgbtq+ stereotyping done through the magical beings of HP. From Goblins to werewolves, there’s a lot of poor, negative, and outright offensive representation wrapped up in there. (Really, her Anti-Trans stuff is just the tip of the iceberg there.)

That said, I still really love Harry Potter.

I know it’s flawed. I know there’s a ton of bad shit wrapped up in it. I’m not saying people should excuse it.

It’s a flawed work by a flawed person, and people should remember that.

We shouldn’t try to erase or ignore those flaws by trying to explain them away or claim someone else wrote it. Because that allows for complacency.

It implies that we can excuse these things in other works if we like them enough and that they aren’t problematic. If we can ignore them in one place, we can ignore them in other places. That they aren’t as bad if we can pretend they aren’t there.

And that is a problem. People need to accept that, just because they don’t like something, they can’t just disregard it and act like it isn’t there.

It’s real. It’s there. And we need to acknowledge it.

But just because the series isn’t perfect doesn’t mean people can’t still enjoy it.

We shouldn’t magnify the bad things in it until that’s all that can be seen. Because that would erase all the good things people have come away with from this series.

People shouldn’t be shamed or put down for liking Harry Potter.

There are people who’ve discovered importing things about themselves because of Harry Potter. People who found strength to get past difficult and traumatizing events in their lives. People who have found their best friends and even love because of their connection to this series.

There are even people who have found the confidence to embark on their own writing and artistic journeys because of Harry Potter. That it inspired numerous wonderful and amazing things created by it’s fans.

And I think that’s just as important as all the flaws that Rowling’s stories have.

We can still love something while admitting that there are bad parts to it. Books and media don’t have to be perfect. They don’t have to be utterly flawless to be considered “enjoyable”.

We don’t need to act like everything has to be black and white, perfectly defined good and evil, to be good. We can still love things while accepting that there are problems with it.

I just wish more people could understand that.

TLDR: Just because Harry Potter is a flawed, imperfect series written by a flawed, imperfect (and kinda shitty) person doesn’t mean people can’t still like it. And I really wish more people would accept that.

#rosie rants #rosie rambles #harry potter #world of harry potter #wizarding world #jk rowling #I just really needed to go off #a lot of the hp confessions I've been reading have been getting to me #so I needed to let this out

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borathae · 3 years

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Hiii :) after you’ve posted other people send you concerns about them getting back together I decided to write to you too 😬 I didn’t want to do it before because i didn’t want to upset anyone but since I’m not alone in feeling that way i want to send you my thoughts as well ❣️

First of all, the chapter was amazing as always! You’re such an amazing and talented writer! Thank you for sharing your work with us! ❤️🥺❤️

Now, when it comes to Lucky and Bunny so many things happened... I really don’t know if them being together is a good idea (although I guess that wasn’t your intention lol). But seriously, when it comes to JK alcohol addiction is very bad but I don’t know what did Lucky expect? That he will threw away booze and never drink again? She was an addict herself so she should know how hard it is to stop (only few people can say they’re done and actually never do this again) and knowing that their relationship is not stable it’s probably not helping him to get better (this is not Lucky’s fault, it’s just a general observation)... maybe it’s not a time for a romantic relationship for Bunny... I think it’s better if he get professional help (and I’m not thinking only about rehab but also therapy) and have a support system (I’m thinking about his sister and mom because they seem like they really care about him and love him), maybe Lucky can be friends with him and support him that way and later when he gets better they can start to think about relationship.. To be very realistic when you go to rehab they actually advise against having new romantic relationships and for at least a year after finishing rehab it’s better to stay single because you need to focus on yourself and getting your shit together rather than getting involved in emotional relation that can end good or bad and trigger some bad habits... also, I’m glad Lucky said he needs professional help but I think that if she talked with him when he’s sober and with no emotions.. maybe then Bunny would understand that he really needs it and would be willing to agree...

When it comes to the commitment issue.. it’s hard because Bunny doesn’t ask for too much at all... it’s okay to want to be the one and only and he definitely shouldn’t compromise on it... and the fact that Lucky can’t even show him that he is important to her (don’t even let me started on the fact that sex is a way to apologize and communicate for them because it never ends well) is very sad especially after what Bunny went through,.. I don’t agree on him comparing Lucky to “her” but it should make Lucky think about how she treats him and how that situation/relationship makes him feel if he’s comparing it to such horrible time in his life... I feel truly sorry for Bunny because he’s once again alone and kind of lonely (at least that what he is feeling) :(

On the other hand, Lucky is very conflicted and the reader can see and feel it... i honestly don’t know if she knows what she wants.. as was discussed after ch 10 it’s her decision to quit her job (and I still think it is) but debating whether to break up with Bunny or keep working was very weird to me because this job doesn’t even gets her a lot of money?? She could sell the Rolex she got from Bunny and have more money then after working for a few months....

idk maybe Bunny was a person she needed to meet to see that she still can open up to someone and trust them and show her that she deserve to love and be loved and that’s the life lesson for her.. and maybe she was a person for Bunny who finally saw his struggles and helped him get help and also showed him that he still can fall in love and his life didn’t end after “she” broke up with him..

they’re just so insecure in this relationship and they hurt each other so much because of it and they straight out toxic for each other... Please, don’t get me wrong they are not wrong for each other but they’re definitely not good for each other either... I don’t know what will happen in future chapters but now it seems like it’s better if they’re apart and i really don’t see them getting back together... maybe they’re suppose to be each other “life lessons” in order to grow and become a better people..

I hope I don’t offend anyone.. I tried to articulate my thoughts as best as I can :) and I really appreciate all you hard work!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

P.S. and about JK’s worker.. she is so annoying 🙄 but thankfully JK is rich and probably has the best lawyers and if she is pregnant (Idk maybe she’s pretending.. 👀) you can do DNA test when the baby is still in the womb so I’m sure they will resolve it quickly :)

Omfg whY do y'all want them to be apart so fkcing bad? Jesus christ I should have fkcing deleted the chapter. I was literally contemplating. Ask @tipsydipsydo that poor woman had to listen to 50 minutes of voice messages of me trying to figure out if I should keep it in or not omfg. But I decided to keep it because I didn’t want to pretend like they don’t have issues and that those issues wouldn’t backlash in their relationship.

And then I get messages like "you should delete entire story sucky sucks" and I’m just like ??? It was literally one angst chapter showcasing the bad times in a relationship? chill omfg

Anyways that's not your rant to bear, but thanks for your input I guess? I reconsider the other chapters then and maybe make them just friends or something if that’s what you guys really want.

#asks: aaol #asks #anon

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wersoverytired · 3 years

Text

Watching the Supernatural finale hours after almost dying is, well. Different.

I cannot stress this enough: MAJOR triggers for frank discussion of a recent suicide attempt (no, not because SPN ended). Steer clear if this might hit too close to home. I'm no longer at risk, this happened a while ago and is over, and my care manager is aware.

Right, and spoilers for the series finale.

_____ _____ _____

I'm old enough to have been a fan of SPN since 2005. And considering the fact that childhood abuse had me suicidal at around age 12, probably earlier, it's safe to say that I have never watched the show without that constant battle going on in the background, unrelated.

When Dean said he was tired, that he was done, I got it. When Sam asked in that abandoned chapel what the upside was to him being alive, or when he confided in his brother in a hotel hallway that he had always felt unclean somehow, I could relate. There was more to the show than that, of course -- the love, the loyalty, the humor -- but the struggle was another point of connection.

As both the show and I grew long in the tooth, and my life circumstances were progressive getting worse (as they sometimes do when you carry untreated trauma), I used SPN and the fandom as a comfort. And increasingly, living to see how the Winchester story ends became one of those grappling hooks you latch on to when you look for reasons to keep going just a little longer.

Naturally, that didn't (and couldn't) arm me against the waves of acute, hope-obliterating, soul-sucking despair that can routinely crash on your head when you're dealing with poverty, chronic physical illness and disability -- and in a harsh country, too -- as well as being severely post traumatic and dissociative. Saving me was never the show's job, nor should it have been. I used it as much as I could, though.

The more I felt like I had to die, the more I tried. Dying hardly ever comes naturally, not even when you feel like there's no other way. Painfully isolated and increasingly bedridden, I watched convention panels and smiled so hard my face hurt. Other times I cried. And I made online friends, often through the fandom, who made life less empty. Who loved and laughed and cried with me from afar. It's hard to overstate the effect that can have when you're trapped in a body that's pretty much your cage, with a mind that's wounded and struggling.

I kept fighting. But I also kept finding myself, over and over again, faced with the reality that most people who are deeply traumatized, certainly those who are also severely dissociative, get to know early on: the world excels at letting many of us know that there's no place for us. Fighting hard to survive with about 10% of what I need to live, I sometimes find it hard not to listen to that toxic message that many survivors and disabled folks hear and feel coming at them over and over: you're too broken to justify the cost and effort of keeping you alive.

It's been an especially hard couple of years in that sense. And as the finale was months, then weeks, then days away, I kept telling myself to wait. Wait for that. Decide later. "Deciding later" is a survival technique I've been using for decades now whenever I get actively suicidal. It's not a bad one.

So that very last Thursday evening (or very late night, where I live) came around. And it so happens that I was at the very end of my rope. Again, for unrelated reasons to the show ending, obviously. And I couldn't go on.

The finale was hours away, and off I went on that same journey. Wait. Wait just long enough to see how it ends. It's been 15 years. You've survived so far, and that bit of closure, at least, is within reach. Just fucking wait to watch that last episode; see how they go before you do. Let that be the one last kind thing you do for yourself.

I kept telling myself that even as I numbly went through my final checklist.

I know it hurts so much. I know this damn body is tortured beyond what you can stand, I know we've been told it's about to get even worse. And hours more of this seem like an eternity. Watching anything seems impossible. I know the PTSD is intolerable, I know you can't sleep, you live in constant fear and rage and exhaustion; I know you're alone in this.

I know you live in a place that has made its peace with people like you dying of Covid, and finds it a small price to pay for refusing to wear masks. I know how that makes you feel, to be told that your life is worth that little because you're disabled. I know 9 months of what amounts to house arrest, while living alone, have made everything so much worse. I know you just want to go.

But wait to watch how it ends. And decide later. You can go later. You can.

And I almost made it. I mean, I'm obviously still here, so I eventually survived. But I tried not to. I couldn't wait.

Sometimes, when you get to the lowest low point, when you are in all-encompassing agony, when your circumstances leave no room for hope even though you desperately want to live -- and I do, I so want to live -- no show, no fandom, no unfinished story can keep you from taking that step over the edge. Many times it can, but there are places where nothing has any meaning. Thursday night became one of those. Watching the finale was a faded notion in the background of all that agony, and then it was nothing at all.

I only managed to write one goodbye letter. Hard to be as organized as you imagined you would be, hard not to leave unforgivable loose ends. I have no memory of what the letter said, and I can't look at it, not yet. It's tucked away now, just out of view.

And then I went about doing the only thing that I felt could be done.

I didn't get to go away. Both because I couldn't stand the torment of the only method I had handy, though I sure gave it my best efforts -- two more minutes would have sealed the deal -- and because I was fucking afraid to die. All the way through, until I gave up and stopped what I was doing.

Fear of dying when you're your own executioner is an odd thing. Your body wants out of this plan you've made for you both. It responds like you'd expect when someone's life in under threat. It makes you have to run to the bathroom over and over, it makes your heart hammer in your chest and your ears ring.

There was no crying. Not at that point. I don't think there was crying when I gave up and accepted that I was staying alive, either. But I can't remember.

I don't know what I did during the few hours after that. The physical consequences of what I did were gone within half an hour or so -- being so ill, I knew not to try something that would land me in the ER during COVID, should I not complete the plan. I'd also be on my own there, and most likely dissociated to such a degree that I wouldn't be able to move or speak. That's not something I ever wanted to experience again, and a fucking horrible starting point if I survived.

Anyway, I was okay physically soon enough, which is not how it usually goes. I just remember being fuzzy and distant and alone. There was no one to call, and I also thought about how it would feel to get a call like that. I considered a crisis hotline, but didn't have the energy to explain my messy, complicated circumstances. I probably just lay there.

A few hours later, I was present enough to watch the finale. Still don't know how. Dissociation has it occasional advantages, one of which is being disconnected from certain things when it's all too much. And so I watched the final episode in bed, with the aftermath of that suicide attempt still all around me.

I watched Dean die the way he did. I watched Sam die. I watched them both being given the pained, tearful reassurance that it was okay to go. Watched them being held, watched those two strong, kindhearted, emotional, loyal men crying as they breathed their last. Dean's death, especially, broke my heart. He so clearly did not want to die. Was afraid, more than ever before.

I did cry then. I sobbed. I could cry for them. Hell, I could cry for that dog, wandering with Sam through the empty halls of the bunker. I cried as that dog looked up, with all that trust and love, at the only human he had left. I cried for Sam, sitting drained and aching in the dark library. Saying "I know, me too" on the unmade bed in Dean's cold, empty room.

Before that, back in the barn, I watched Dean not want to go. Sam begging him not to go, then forcing himself to tell his older brother what he needed, what he begged to hear. That he wasn't abandoning the one person he had spent his life looking out for. That Sam would survive him going, now that he had to go.

I never saved the world, and there's nothing heroic about me. But so much of what went on around those characters' deaths echoed what I had felt hours earlier, what I still was feeling. It gave me a safe way to cry for that, too.

I will always be grateful to the show for that small mercy. And grateful to Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki, whom I've never met and never will, and have given such phenomenal performances here that they reached through all that distance, to unknowingly touch an ache that I could not cry for. They'll never know that. I imagine there are so many people like me who feel the same gratefulness, too, for their own similar moments of human connection.

The show is over now, and I try not to be sad about that, and I'm sure I will be. It would be sadder if I didn't feel a loss. Meanwhile, life doesn't stall just because you tried to stop your own. It's around two weeks later now, bright and loud outside my window in a world that's not safe for me to go out in, and I am lying in bed in a half-lit room trying to manage my pain. I didn't die. I'm still here.

I can't pretend I'm glad that I am, but I also know that I'm not ready to go yet. I'm just not. I have no good reason for that; sometimes you're just too afraid to die. And so I can't see myself trying to go away again any time soon. My health might take care of that for me anyway, but otherwise, looks like I'm stuck on this ride.

I'm very grateful that I've had SPN and its people for so long through this battle, to give me and the rest of the fandom so much more than meets the eye. And I'm grateful for that last, good cry, too.

Well, not the last cry, for sure. There's always rewatch #475783.

#spoilers #supernatural finale #triggering stuff #surviving #Suicide #supernatural 15x20 #supernatural #15x20 spoilers #ptsd #cptsd #trauma

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