#<- i guess? i mean it’s mentioned so. sure
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
forrest-onfire · 1 day ago
Text
Mkay, I’ve got another:
I need a fic where Raf and MC are chaotic besties. Obviously Raf is in love but MC also has a crush except she’s CONVINCED he’s gay. Bc come on. Look at him. Do you hear his voice? That’s a pretty little gay boy right there. I’m 100% down for bisexual Raf (I’ve been seeing lots of Sylus x Rafael lately and I’m EATING IT UP). But I digress: MC loves Raf but has always friendzoned him unintentionally because she’s convinced he couldn’t possibly like her back, he’s just a flirty person in general, not that she’s every seen him flirt with anyone else, but that assumption suits him well anyway.
Raf HATES that she seemingly doesn’t see him as a threat at all. Basically the whole “clearly you don’t see me as a man” cliche except she totally does, but she’s lost all hope in pursuing him and now just treats him as her gay best friend, playful flirting, innocent touches, etc…
Things go a little too far when she starts to feel comfortable enough to change in front of him, and he just kinda snaps, getting all defensive to hide how flustered he’s getting and then she finally lets it slip.
“I don’t know why it bothers you so much. This isn’t your first time seeing a naked woman, is it? You may not be attracted to the female body, but I didn’t think you’d be so squeamish. Didn’t you study anatomy as an artist? Though, I guess you don’t have to since you hardly ever do portraits…”
She’s rambling as she changes, but Rafael is still caught on her casual confession that she apparently had NO CLUE how hot and bothered he gets every time she walks into the room. NO CLUE that every time she passed by him, the scent of her shampoo alone give him a pathetic hard on that makes his pants feel so tight, he wonders if the seams will pop open and reveal his disgusting, dirty train of thought. NO CLUE that he fisted himself under the sheets at night after trying and failing so many times to draw her just right because no frozen picture on a canvas could fully capture her beauty, not to mention how was he supposed to draw something he’d never gotten the privilege to see.
Until now, as she stands naked and unassuming in front of him, going on about how he’s…
Gay?
I mean, sure he liked dick probably as much as the next guy (assuming the next guy was queer as shit, of course). But Rafael was nothing if not adventurous and maybe a little depraved at times.
Like now, feeling that dark desire pool in his stomach and his cock struggle against the fabric of his briefs.
Her back is turned towards him, stretching leisurely before she bends to pick up her clothes and gives him the perfect view of e v e r y t h i n g, plump ass wriggling absentmindedly back and forth, thick thighs pressed together, and between the two like a delicately framed jewel is her sweet cunt that he’s been trying to envision for months now, right in front of him for the taking.
It almost made him angry how she did so with such innocent intentions, no idea how crazy it was driving him. But you know what? If this wasn’t an opportunity to prove to her just how much of a man he was, then what else was? After all, never once did he say a word about not liking woman - he hadn’t even mentioned liking men at all, how could he think about someone else when she stood right there, perfect in every way except apparently common sense because where the HELL had she gotten the idea that he was gay?
So really, it’s her fault. A lesson needs to be learned, and if Raf was lucky, she wouldn’t be forgetting it anytime soon…
K, so I accidentally almost wrote it myself. But I don’t wanna, so here! Take it. Make it better please I need to see this as a fully fleshed out one-shot. If you write it and tag me, I’ll be your forever mutual and a devout follower for the rest of our days.
Also, I’m aware I could make these requests directly to a fic writer, but as you can see, I prefer to simply scream out into the void and wait patiently for a response that will probably never come.
Happy pining 🤧❤️
105 notes · View notes
lisbeth-kk · 1 day ago
Text
Tumblr media
Sherlock fandom
Impossible To Get Rid Of
Sherlock has always loved animals. Dogs and bees in particular. Mycroft did not share his little brother’s fascination with the creatures. He liked to be superior and moving people around like pawns on a chessboard. Besides, he was allergic to dogs, bee stings, cats, and sentimentality. The latter diagnosis was set by Sherlock.
Even when Mycroft left his childhood home for university, way earlier than his peers, Sherlock couldn’t persuade their parents to buy a dog.
“Myc comes home during the holidays, darling,” their mother said. “I won’t have him all puffy and sneezing when he visits.”
So, Sherlock played with the neighbour’s dog, Redbeard instead. He followed the boy everywhere. They were best friends. 
***
He eventually moved out to attend uni at Cambridge, and for decades he only encountered dogs that were walked by their owners in the streets or the parks. After Redbeard’s death, Sherlock felt an emptiness in his heart, and whenever he got a glimpse of red fur, he winced.
When he moved to London and Baker Street, he realised that the dream of getting a dog was further away than ever. It would be cruel to leave an animal in the flat for hours on end when he ran around catching criminals, never knowing when he would get home. Sometimes, it took days before he returned to 221B.
***
John was by many called Sherlock’s pet, his loyal dog. They both bristled at that ludicrous assumption.
“People are idiots. None of them know you for real, not to mention what you mean to me, John” Sherlock reassured his beloved blogger when he got in a strop.
“I know, love. It’s just so presumptuous, and undignified. As if all I’m good for is – “
Sherlock stopped John’s tirade by cradling his face in his hands, kissed him deeply, and by doing so explicitly saying:
You are my everything. My conductor of light. My best friend. My lover. My soulmate. My John.
***
“You are like a weed; impossible to get rid of,” Sherlock murmured good-naturedly.
The Irish setter, Reginald, John called him Reggie, looked up at him with dark brown eyes, and wiggled his tail happily.
Sherlock had never told John that Reginald was Mycroft’s middle name. If his brother had still been alive, he would’ve scoffed at the well-established abbreviation of his name.
“Stay, Reginald. I don’t want a bee to sting your nose. Besides, you will make me trip when you walk between my feet. We both know how John will react to that, don’t we,” Sherlock said sternly.
He walked towards the beehives and made sure that the dog stayed as commanded.
A bark was the dog’s response.
“Good boy,” Sherlock praised when he returned, and scratched him behind his ears.
***
“Should I be jealous?” John asked when they sat on the sofa after dinner.
“Beg pardon,” Sherlock said and looked bemused at his husband.
“Me. Jealous. Of him,” John clarified and pointed at the bundle of mahogany coat at Sherlock’s feet. “You don’t need slippers or woollen socks as long as you’re sitting here. He’s more resistant than the weed I filled the wheelbarrow with today.”
“John,” Sherlock hummed in that way of his. “I married you and not the dog.”
“Fair point, I guess,” John grumbled, still not entirely appeased.
“I rather like it when you’re jealous, you know,” Sherlock said, lowering his voice an octave. “It makes the sex far more…dedicated than normal.”
“Are you saying I’m not dedicated on a regular basis?” John teased.
“I wouldn’t dare. In fact, you are fanatically devoted to me in every possible way; just how I prefer it.”
John’s laughter was still addictive, just as it had been all those years ago. 
Sherlock stood, reached out his hands to John, and pulled him in for a tight embrace. 
“Reginald,” he warned, when the dog started to whine. 
The dog looked over at John for support.
“Go find your bed, Reggie,” John said firmly, but not unkindly. “You can’t follow him everywhere. Sleep tight. I’ll give him back to you tomorrow.”
Reginald gave a deep sigh, tried again to get some scraps of sympathy. When none was forthcoming, he padded over to his comfortable bed by the fireplace and curled up with his stuffed bee between his paws.
“He’s such a baby,” John whispered fondly.
Sherlock hummed in agreement and led the way to the bedroom, his heart full of anticipation. John’s jealousy was still discernible…
-------------------------------------------------------------------
@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @helloliriels
@meetinginsamarra @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely @jolieblack
@221beloved @ninasnakie @shy-bi-letsfuckingdie @7-percent @lhrinchelsea
@peanitbear @bs2sjh @brandiwein1982 @meandhisjohn @a-victorian-girl
@missdeliadilisblog @salmonsown @oetkb12 @jawnscoffee @gay-ass-bitch
@acumberlockedgirl @willamholmeswatson @whatnext2020 @mydogwatson @redmondcollege
@thegildedbee @ilovegayangels @elizabethhood @xmengal03 @riversong912
@givemesherbet-blog-blog @couldbecannibal @2old2b-fangirl @dw91165 @jonkwatson
@binx72 @macgyvershe @raina-at @dragoonthegreatest @kholkate
@fookincarrotsandpotatoes28 @talkativeanxiousturtle @aloeverawrites @ch0s0lvr @desi-yearning
(Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed from the list)
54 notes · View notes
angrygirlromero · 3 days ago
Text
SHOOTERS SHOOT
(feat. Charlie Bushnell x fem¡oc)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
@angrygirlhayek Following
@cbushnell15 come home the kids miss you 😣
11:31 p.m 19/03/25 105.5k views
💬 111k 🔁 50k ❤️150.3k
@malachiDiBarton
noooo baby don’t do this to me 😭😭😭
@AryanSimhadri
brooo that’s crazy time to man up ig @cbushnell14
@cbushnell15
I guess dreams really do come true 😳😳😳
@elianamarkella
I thought you were joking about posting it to twitter 😭😭😭
@user1078
HUHH?? WHO TF IS CHARLIE BUSHNELL?!!!
@likemyballs69
there’s no way bro puller Alejandra Hayek
@crasybitsh101
Nepo baby much? 🙄
-
Tumblr media
dior
guyss have you seen twitter?
aryan
Charlie literally manifested her
wtf
He was crying like two days ago to a tik tok she posted
Cause he said she’ll never know him
Are we in some type of fairytale I don’t know about???
walker
What’s twitter? I don’t know that app
I only know x 😉
dior
Stfu
If u don’t have anything relevant to say, just sush
charlieeee why aren’t you relying
leah
He’s probably still in shock
Or possibly crashing out rn
charlie
dior
use your words dummy
Charlie
W T F
HOW DOES SHE EVEN KNOW WHO I AM?
WDF DO U MEAN THE KIDS MISS ME I NEVER LEFT!!!!!
OMFFFGGGG
aryan
there it is
Leah
Oh lord…
dior
Deep breaths
Charlie
wtf do I say after something like that??
dior
Dm her? Ask for her number
Charlie
She doesn’t even follow me
wait
Aryan
What?
Charlie
SHE JUST FOLLOWED ME
On insta and tik tok
Omg omg
my repost are like 90% edits of her she’s gonna think I’m a fucking weirdo 😭😭😭
dior
HAHAHA
Charlie
tf u mean haha?
HELP ME
Aryan
just calm down bro I’m sure it can’t be that bad
Leah
Trust me it’s bad, level 100% obsessed with the poor girl
How does she even know you?
walker
I have something relevant to say
Leah
What is it?
walker
It was me.
Dior
What do u mean it was you? Huh?
Leah
???
Aryan
???
Charlie
???
Walker
I met her yesterday in nyc, she was very nice btw she invited me for doughnuts, anyways I asked if she had seen Percy Jackson
Which btw she had
And she mentioned that Luke Castellan was the best thing to ever happen to Disney
So I told her that Charlie is obsessed with her work
Charlie
Idk if I should thank you or kill you
Walker
What? I’m literally the best wing man every tf u mean kill me?
Leah
Language
Walker
Sorry 😔
Aryan
I was not expecting that
dior
Me either, I though those fotos of u with a girl in nyc were edited
I didn’t know it was her
Why didn’t you tell us?
Walker
You never asked
🤷🏼
Charlie
this mf
-
Charlie Bushnell sat in absolute shock on the bench of his local gym, mouth gaped fist clenched and heart bounding, as he stared at the notificación on his Home Screen from tik tok @alehayek mentioned you in their video. The nervous boy took a deep breath before clicking on the notification it soon leading him into the app where the logo appeared before the app loaded the video.
On the screen appeared a short tik tok video, there she was Alejandra Hayek on the beach in god knows which part of Mexico, she lounged lazily on a beach chair with pretty doe eyes staring into the camper lens from behind her think sun classes, she laid beautifully displaying the setting of the beach infront of her with the sun set. Her tanned skin and glossy lips smiled at him, god he could die a happy man just simply looking at her.
Soon enough the tik tok audio rang throughout the empty gym, “like my **** tall and brown, and mixed with a little bit of ugly” she lip synced, with a cute smile allowing the dimples in her cheeks to form, as her hand moved forward for form the gun motion “uh, uh-huh, they say shooters shoot” she smiled while tilting her head, long wavy hair falling into her face slightly, “uh, uh-huh, @CharlieBushnell, what’s up with you?”
In that moment Charlie couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot, his face was red, his cheeks hurt, his heart raced and his palms were sweating, he shook his head in his flustered state before liking the video, adding it to his favorites and reposting it. He rewatched the video once more before opening the comments.
-
Dior Goodjohn • following
@charliebushnell where you at my guy come get your girl
McKenna grace • following
That’s crazyyy
Aryansimhadri • following
get your man girl
Walker scobell • following
This was my doing btw
Liked by creator ❤️
Malachi Barton •following
😔😔😔
Eliana Kalogeras • following
Yeah Bushnell what is up with you and my girl? 🤨
🎀Piper Rochelle🎀 • following
ITTT COUPLEEEE
Vinnie • following
🤨🤨🤨
Alex Warren • following
Can I preform at the wedding??!!
replied by creator
omg yessss!! (If there is a wedding 🫢)
Charlie Bushnell • following
Well it appears I’ve been shot, right in the heart
Liked by creator ❤️
-
a/n: thank you for reading! Sorry for any grammar mistakes you may have encountered English isn't my strongest language, hope you enjoyed. This is one hundred percent inspired on a tik tok I saw the other day!
PLEASE READ!!!
It has come to my attention that many people seem to get disappointed after realizing that my stories are x femjoc, I'm so sorry for the confusion. I'm not very good at writing my character without much details or descriptions, so I find it much more difficult to write x reader fics as much as l'd like to. As for my tags please don't come for me but as some tumblr users probably already know the algorithm here isn't the best and I have to put as much tags associated with my fic as possible for it to get put on the right fandom's fyp, if you'd like me to formally remove or change anything just let me know, I write strictly for fun and entertainment of other I'm just trying to share my hobby
(IF U HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS FICS DON'T BE AFRIAD TO COMMENT YOUR QUESTIONS, AND IF YOU'D LIKE TO SEE MORE OF THIS DONT FORGET TO LIKE AND REPOST!!
52 notes · View notes
quibbs126 · 2 days ago
Text
Yesterday I saw someone on Twitter mentioning the babyfication of Bumblebee in the fandom, and that's been somewhat of a thought in my mind before, so I figured "eh, might as well write my own thoughts on the matter myself". Though in a tumblr post, since Twitter has a character limit and I don't feel like doing a thread
So yeah, that's what this is
Why does Bumblebee get babyfied so much in the Transformers fandom?
Disclaimer though: I'm only really touching on the shows and movies and how they might contribute to the issue, and only the ones I've seen, so no Unicron Trilogy or RID 2015. And probably not much on the live action movies either since I remember them very little, just design things. I've also not read any of the comics, so they aren't weighing in either
I'm also not claiming I have the definitive answers, just some guesses based on my own understandings. I'm very socially inept, so I could be completely wrong. It's also why I'm not touching on the fandom side much
My friend told me to put a "read more" tab on this after showing her what I was doing, and yeah I probably should. Take note that this is an absolute monster of a post, this took me hours to write. So be warned
But yeah anyways, let's start this
Oh right, I should probably start with what I mean by "babyfied", so we all are on the same page here. The biggest things I think are making Bumblebee a teenager or child, whether in interpretations of canon material, AUs of official series, or people's own versions of the Transformers (though note the most damning one here is the first one, seeing a canon Bee as a kid, specifically when it is not shown that he is one. The third one is completely fine, it just is a symptom I think), and then also basically just making Bumblebee Optimus' son, or Elita's, or Megatron's, or a combination of characters; basically, just making Bumblebee someone's kid
I'll be tackling it in a general order of the shows/movies and how they contribute to the issue, starting with:
G1 cartoon
So in g1, I will admit, I think I can see Bee and Optimus having some sort of father-son relationship, at least in moments; like Attack of the Autobots which is where Optimus and Bumblebee have that iconic little hug
Tumblr media
But I mean also, Optimus just kind of generally has paternal vibes in g1, he feels like everyone's dad. I think it might just get magnified with Bumblebee because Bumblebee is small and probably has the "cutest" personality of the Minicars, so it's just him from that group. And also, he's got a cute little Beetle car as his alt, which factors into it
He also does seem to have been written with the idea of him being younger, at least that's how the toy description feels to me
Tumblr media
He was also Spike's best Autobot friend, and as I'm pretty sure Spike was supposed to be the young teenage human for the kids to relate to more, that probably helps with his youth factor
Though he is still functionally an adult. But I don't think the problem is as bad here, since let's be real, people mostly remember g1 for the nostalgia, iconic moments, and being the origins of the franchise; people aren't really making g1 AUs outside of that one person with the Orion Pax and Megatron knowing each other AU
So from the start, he's always had this, but I don't think we can call it an issue at this point. But it does bring in some of the main factors in the babyfication of Bee, namely:
He's small, which can give the impression of younger
He generally is one of the younger bots, even if he's still an adult
He tends to be the main friend of a human protagonist, who generally tend to be kids or teenagers
These will show up again, so keep them in mind. Now, let's move onto our next show, 23 years later
Animated
So in Animated, Bumblebee is yet again, one of the youngest members of the main cast, though this is specifically told to us, like how Sentinel, one of Optimus' contemporaries (and TFA OP is meant to be on the younger side of his variations too), was Bee's drill sergeant, as well as just Bee's general behavior
He is also the smallest member of the main cast, which can contribute to the feeling of him being younger
Tumblr media
He is also friends with the human protagonist Sari, who is an 8-year-old at the start of the show, and the two of them tend to go along with each other's crazy schemes, rather than Bee trying to be responsible with Sari; that's more Optimus' job.
What I didn't pick up until way later than I probably should have was that Bulkhead is around the same age as Bumblebee, thus making him also one of the youngest members of the cast. Which honestly in retrospect, makes a lot of sense with how he's written, and him also being one of Sari's closest friends. I think why I didn't pick up on it while watching however comes from two things: 1, he's like the biggest member of the main cast, which doesn't immediately make me think he's one of the younger members, even though younger people being big is something they can be (I mean my brother's like 6 feet tall and he's not even 15 yet), and then 2: Transformers Prime Bulkhead, aka the one from the show that might be more popular than TFA, is very much an adult, and that was the Bulkhead I knew. So I didn't know he was supposed to be younger
We'll swing back around to Prime later, I think it's one of the main contributors to the issue, but keep in mind that interpretations from popular series tend to stay in mind and bleed over into other shows and their versions, even if that's not how they are
But back to Bumblebee, things generally aren't super different between this and g1, other than the fact that he and Optimus don't have much of a parent-child dynamic, and that this Bee definitely is on the younger side in canon, though probably still an adult? I'm not sure, but he can't mentally be more than like, very early 20s. But it happening again does reinforce these ideas of Bumblebee as a younger bot
In fanon, I don't know if the TFA side has this much of an issue, at least nowadays? I see him get shipped with Blitzwing and Prowl plenty, and I don't see him as Optimus' kid, other than like one time with the "9 months in my womb" meme, and him being an oplita kid, which might have just been for the joke and also TFA Elita was yellow, so eh. But I'm also not too big on the TFA side of the fandom anyways, so I could be wrong
So before we get to Prime, I just want to sidestep into the movies that were also coming out at the time
Bayverse/live-action movies
Now I can't say much on the writing front with Bee, since I have not seen any of these movies in a hot minute, outside of the first hour and a half of the 2007 movie. I will say though, based on what I saw of Bee there (aka mostly his car shenanigans), that is not a child, that is a sassy little bastard man. Though that could be because Bay was trying to market more to like, teenage boys and trying to make him "cooler"
But anyways, what I wanted to talk about was his design, and how it contributes to the babyfication issue
The Bay movies gave Bumblebee a redesign, looking pretty different from his original design (though that goes for pretty much everyone except Optimus)
Tumblr media
The thing I notice most with these movie designs is how round they make him, specifically with his eyes, being so big and round, especially later. While it was probably originally just a reference to bug eyes, it makes him cuter looking, more innocent. I think by Bumblebee, they were trying to capitalize on that in the movie, making him seem cute and non-threatening in certain scenes so Charlie knows he's not a danger. Which makes sense, but it does contribute to the problem here
And in general, he's a lot rounder I think in his design. And while I'm not expert on shape language, I think I can gather that more round shapes leads to him looking more friendly and less threatening and cuter in our minds, and "cuter" leads to "younger". That's why I keep bringing up "cute" by the way, forgot to say earlier. Cuteness tends to be associated with youthfulness and thus younger characters more
And in general with Bumblebee, him being yellow, a bright color more associated with joy and optimism, and thus youth, and generally having a more optimistic and extroverted personality (though not necessarily in the Bay movies, though I can't say for sure) again leads into him being younger. Now it probably came from the fact that bees are yellow, thus he's yellow (and also black), and his personality came from that bright color. Actually the name probably also comes from the yellow color scheme, but you get it. His color scheme and personality lends Bee to being a younger character
Back to Bayverse, it did change Bumblebee's alt mode from a Beetle to a Camaro (again probably to make him "cooler"), and I think since then, Bumblebee's basically always been a sports car, outside of explicitly g1 referencing things. So it does tend to take away the "smaller" aspect of what makes him seem so young, as he's more average sized now. But the youthful connotations don't necessarily go away
This is also (I think) what started the trend of Bumblebee losing his voice, being replaced with either radio/movie clips, or just beeps that the characters can understand. Now while I'm not too sure how this affects him in Bayverse, as I haven't seen much of Bee proper in the movies in a long time (the first half of the first movie is pretty much just car Bee), and since I know he can still talk in some way, it does mean you focus less on his dialogue and how that characterizes him, and more on his appearance and actions (at least in robot mode). Or he just doesn't talk, and you can have your own interpretations of what he's saying. And as mentioned prior, his design tends to make him look cuter, adding to the issue. I'll get more into this in Prime, since I am familiar with Prime, and he doesn't talk at all there
He's also again, I'm pretty sure one of the younger bots, despite probably being an adult. We'll go over that more in Prime
I don't think I have much else to say on these movies, so to go over the general points, this seemed to cause a bit of a shift in Bumblebee's portrayals. He got a bigger alt mode, so he's not tiny anymore, but he got big round eyes that make him seem cuter, rounder features, and he lost his voice, which means you can fill in the gaps in what he's saying in your head
Now, let's get to the real meat of this, and I think the biggest cause of this all:
Prime
I hope I didn't hype this section up too much. But I think this is where all the things conglomerate into the main factors of Bee's babyfication
Bumblebee is not the smallest bot, but the smallest is the female motorcycle bot, as opposed to his sports car, so. He is the youngest Autobot, and bot in general outside of I guess the Predacons, until Smokescreen comes in in Season 2, who is also considered young. He and Optimus have a close relationship, that given their age differences, could be read as paternal. He's got the big round eyes of Bayverse and a generally round design, which we've already discussed as to how it contributes to the problem. He also does not speak at all, only using beeps that we the audience cannot understand, until the finale. His designated human friend is the youngest human companion here, and the most child of them, being only 12. All these factors combine to create the most "baby" Bumblebee so far
Tumblr media
(I just added a picture since I felt like I needed to. But there's not much to talk about design-wise that wasn't in the Bay section)
First up, the age thing. I keep saying that Bumblebee is one of the youngest bots in the casts, even though he's technically an adult. This is true, in part because as far as we can see in canon, Transformers don't really have "child" stages, they're just born adults. And they don't really age; or well, they do, it just takes millions and millions of years to do so, so they're functionally immortal. So, they don't really age like us humans, physically and probably mentally too, given they skip the young child years. So I mean like, technically speaking, Bee's an adult, it's not really clear where that translates into our perception, so maybe he's more mentally a child? I don't think I'm making sense here, maybe ignore this section
But he is younger, and particularly in Prime, he's in a team of bots all much older than him. If I were to put them in mental human years, I'd say he and Smokescreen are probably somewhere in their early 20s, while everyone else is probably like, 35+. Bee is notably younger than his peers, and we are made aware of this fact. And this makes him appear even younger than he is
If I were to make a comparison, and maybe this is a bit random, but take Mouthwashing for example. I may never have been super knowledgeable of the fandom, but I am aware that Daisuke is like, 22, while everyone else on the Tulpar is 35+, and that makes him feel so much younger by comparison. He's only just started his adult life, compared to the far more experienced adults around him. And while I didn't see it, I do think I remember seeing people talk about how people kept portraying Daisuke as younger and more innocent than he is when he's a 22-year-old man. I also remember someone comparing the portrayals of Daisuke in the fandom with another character from another series (I think it was Omori?), who was the same age as Daisuke, but because that character is the oldest of the protagonist group, everyone else being children or teenagers, he was portrayed super differently to Daisuke. The other character had to be responsible and make mature decisions, while Daisuke is allowed to be silly and reckless. The point I'm trying to make here is that age, and how a character is portrayed and interpreted, is relative to the characters surrounding them, with the characters on the extremes sometimes getting exacerbated because of it. This is true in real life too, but for the sake of analysis
Bumblebee is the youngest member of the Autobot team (at least until Smokescreen), and thus, he feels even younger as a result. This is probably also helped by the fact that there's no Decepticons around his age either, everyone around Bumblebee is a full-grown adult by comparison. And his close relationship with Optimus, who is meant to be one of the older bots in the group, feels very paternal, which serves to make Bee feel again younger, like he's Optimus' son. Which I like here, but it furthers the issue
And on the topic of him just feeling younger, let's bring up Raf. Bumblebee is again a friend of a human protagonist, but in Prime we have 3 main humans, ranging in ages but all in grade school, and each one has an Autobot they're paired with. And Bumblebee gets Raf, the youngest member at around 12. Due to Raf's youngest member status and technically not being a teenager, he is, as I said before, the most "child" of the group, even if they're all technically children still. I thought he was 10 until I double checked and saw he was 12, and honestly, I feel like he feels younger than Sari did, who was only 8 when we met her. Probably because unlike Sari who had no human friends, Raf does, both of whom are older than him and treat him as such. It's the relative age thing again
But back to Bee, unlike with the other humans and bots, Bee doesn't act as the responsible adult, but more of a friend for Raf, though not nearly as chaotic as TFA Bee and Sari. They aren't causing trouble; they're just having fun and cute moments. There's again, the cuteness factor that probably contributes to the young feeling he brings, but it also serves to make Bumblebee not feel as much as an adult. Arcee is definitely an adult with Jack, and Bulkhead particularly gives me responsible adult vibes with Miko, at least on some occasions where they aren't indulging in fun, reckless behavior and Bulkhead has to get serious with her. They're responsible with the kids, even if they slip up at times, and help them learn things. But Bee doesn't have that with Raf, probably because Bee can't talk and give him the lesson. Raf also doesn't cause much trouble on his own and has Ratchet for that
Which segues me nicely into Bumblebee's lack of voice in this show. This was a carryover from Bayverse, since Hasbro was still trying to have synergy with the movies at that point. But instead of radio clips, he just beeps, with the other bots and Raf just being able to understand him, even though we the audience don't. And because of this, we never know what he's saying, and he also just straight up doesn't have a voice for us to gauge his age with. Thus, it's up to us the audience to fill in the blanks in our imaginations. But with all of the discussed factors of him being cute and young, we can just end up interpreting him as younger because of it. It's also again, probably because he doesn't talk. It's like R2D2 and BB-8, who only speak in beeps, but because they're cute, we see them probably as much cuter than they would be if we knew what they were actually saying (R2 especially)
To maybe go off on a weird tangent, I think child characters tend to be seen more as objects than people, or I guess objectified more, since they don't have fully developed brains and personalities and are less likely to be able to hold their own in a fight. They're things to be protected and loved and angst over, while all they need to do is be there and be cute. I think the lack of voice ties into this in a way, I just don't know how to explain it, other than like, because they took away his voice, we can see him as even cuter and child-like instead of the grown adult he is. Infantalization, that's what I'm trying to say. I think that's term for all of this, but you get what I mean by "babyfication"
Especially because at least for me, when Bumblebee did get his voice back, I started seeing him more as an adult, because he could actually talk and had an adult voice. Yes, him learning to take more of a leadership role in Predacons Rising is also a factor, but him having a voice now is part of it too. But he only got it back in the finale and the movie, so you spend pretty much the entire show with voiceless Bumblebee, and what comes with that
I think that wraps up everything about Prime Bee's portrayal, but now let me get into why I think overall, it was what really caused this baby Bee thing to stick
Like I said prior in the Animated section, the more something's repeated, the more it sticks, and these traits of Bumblebee being the youngest have been consistent throughout the series we've covered. Not to mention, I just think personality wise, this Bee feels the youngest/child-like, though again, it probably has to do with his company and lack of voice. And also, the fact that he's well-behaved, like how people want children to be
So, by this point, this interpretation of Bumblebee is stuck in our minds as how he is, younger than the rest of the team
But I think another big thing is that Transfomers Prime is probably the biggest series in the fandom, at least show-wise. G1 was influential and Animated is still popular, but no show comes close to the amount of popularity I see for Prime stuff, particularly their brand of megop or for their Decepticons in general. The only thing I've seen come close is Transformers One, which is also the newest one and what brought new people in during this wave, so who knows if it'll stick forever. I'm not sure where IDW stands though, because I know that was big too
If I had to attribute Prime's success in the fandom to things, I'd say it's because plenty of people around my age (20s-ish?), who are definitely online and on social media, grew up with Prime (though I will note that Transformers tends to have an older fandom than I'm used to), the fact that for a long time, Prime was easily accessible in its entirety on Netflix, long before the streaming wars (and this is how I watched the show), it generally has good writing and animation, it feels like it had a complete story, unlike Animated which had Season 4 cancelled, and Frank Welker and Peter Cullen were back as Megatron and Optimus, making them feel more "definitive". Among probably other things I'm missing
But the point is, Prime is big, and it'll take a lot to dethrone it, outside of possibly some TF One sequels sticking the landing after the first movie. But that's not certain at the moment
And like I said before, popular interpretations tend to bleed into other series and interpretations, even when they don't entirely fit. There's a reason when people want Knock Out in another show, they basically want more TFP Knock Out, design and character wise, or why Breakdown was in Earthspark without the other Stunticons. Or why people basically try to recreate the g1 backstory when making Skyfire and skystar for their stories, even when I'm not really sure versions of Starscreams would ever be scientists. Why Functionism will show up in fanfics despite something like TF One not really having a place for it outside of the cogless thing. Why people will instinctively ship megop across continuities despite it not working as well in some (*cough cough TFA cough*). Why Megatron and Optimus have largely had the same backstories for ~15 years, with One being probably the most different, but still the same general beats. It happens both in canon and fanon, but it definitely happens
So when Prime Bumblebee is portrayed as young, and probably intentionally, it sticks in our minds that Bumblebee is very young and usually will be. He's like Optimus' son here, especially since he explicitly is younger than him. He's cute and friendly, even if he can get into trouble sometimes. He's just a little guy
And by this point, the franchise was like, 30 years old. There's been a number of series, and a lot of the general staples of the series had been set and remain today. I'd argue Prime is the last of the "foundational" series in this franchise, at least where we are now with it; we could end up going in another direction in the future. So it's gonna be hard to just change how we see the characters here
The shows after
I won't go into each one in detail after this, because let's be real, this is long enough already. And again, I don't think at this stage, anything other than One has left as much of an impact on the fandom/series
We're skipping over RID 2015 since I haven't watched it, but I do think it's one of the shows with the least of this problem. Probably because he is at least initially surrounded by characters his age or younger, so the age relativity isn't a factor
Cyberverse actually has Bumblebee around the same age as Optimus here, not being notably younger, but that holds true for everyone in that series; basically everyone here is the same age, outside of like, Cheetor. I don't interact with the Cyberverse fandom enough to know how it fares with Bee there, but given he's a main character, probably more than Optimus, he's probably doing fine?
Though I have to admit I personally find it weird when Bee gets shipped, because surprise, I too have some amount of the babybee influence on me too. I mention it here because there's genuinely nothing wrong with shipping Bumblebee and Windblade here, if anything it makes so much sense; it's just that I can't get out of my head that Bee is supposed to be younger, and thus, shouldn't be shipped
I know nothing about the War for Cybertron trilogy
Earthspark Bumblebee is another case of being hit with the baby beam the least, which I think is attributed to his role as the Terrans' mentor. Once again, he is put as an older character instead of younger, and even more so than RID because he's the main adult teaching our young child protagonists. The age relativity is working in his favor this time. Most you're gonna get is him being called megop's child of divorce, but those two are old anyways
So far, canon wise, it doesn't seem that bad
But then we get to One, which is where I think the problem is really rearing its ugly head. See, B-127 is never said to be younger than the rest of the quartet, he's assumed to be the same age as them. Heck, you could maybe even see him as a bit older, given his odd knowledge and having been in Sublevel 50 so long. But B is constantly portrayed as younger than the rest, being the child of divorce, but actually more "child" this time, him basically being Optimus and/or Elita's son (Megatron is another parent too), despite no indication of such a bond in the movie outside of just being friends (even less so with Elita, whom he has the least screen time with of the group), or just straight up being made into a child or baby for the rest of the group to parent, despite it taking out a member of the group, especially when again, he is not said to be younger
But it keeps happening to him because it's the new popular series and some are coming in with prior expectations and knowledge of B and his relationships, that Bee must always be baby, and probably because he's very energetic and hyper and probably neurodivergent, which has a history of getting characters infantalized. Not saying everyone who sees him as younger is problematic or ableist for doing so, just that this probably contributes on some level to why it's so widespread
I think I've covered all my points at this rate. Are we finally done? Can I go do my schoolwork? Sorry, just random, I've been here for a while
So, to summarize, why does Bumblebee get babyfied so much?
Because Bee has a long history as being young, he's put around older characters who make him feel younger by comparison, he's got a design that lends him to be seen as cute and young, especially in the most well-known depictions (I mostly mean g1, Bayverse and Prime here), the fact that the show were all of these traits are at their biggest is also the most popular show, and thus influencing people's minds going forward that this is how he should be, even when it doesn't fit so well
And I don't think this mentality around Bee is going away anytime soon, and it isn't necessarily wrong to make Bee a young bot, but I think we should acknowledge that sometimes it's trying to fit a square in a round hole, it just doesn't fit as well, and we need to be mindful of that
49 notes · View notes
jane-d-ankh-veos · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Overall I liked the Bachelor's prologue, despite the expected imperfections of an early demo.
Curious observations:
✦ Random appearances of fragments of quest descriptions on walls remind me of original Pathologic's Polyhedron: its textures were made of its own design sketches and game development docs, and I wonder if this idea aims in the same direction. (I hope it won't lead to something like "you were in the Polyhedron this whole time" at the end, but... well, actually, I'm ready for anything. Even clichés aren't boring when they are done well.)
✦ The mention of the Marble Nest caught me by surprise: wait a minute, how can Sticky remember another person's dying dream? Does it imply that we are in a similar one? I guess, both yes and no: yes, we are inside Daniil's mind again (because most of the current plot is presented as memories); yes, just like back then, it isn't real (still a theatre play and a game); yet no, it doesn't mean that it couldn't happen or that it was untrue (because dreams, supernatural elements and different narrative dimensions are a part of reality in this Town).
✦ Apathy's visual effects (black-and-white scratched film) are great in a double way: symbolic of memories + conveying derealization. Besides, movies are close kin to theatre.
✦ The "prohibit dying" option among Decrees looks like a possible penalty (because it takes up a free slot and some resources, but has no effects) for neglecting Daniil's mental health, yet I am almost sure that it will unlock something interesting later in the full game. (Perhaps I am simply too spoiled by Fallen London with its "if some option is obviously unwise, it may be rewarding in other ways, for example narratively".)
✦ Original Pathologic also had every single mirror in town shattered (delightfully mysteriously), so now it seems like it was our own doing all along... That is, the future Bachelor's.
Can't blame him, things get stressful when you have to be both a doctor and the Doctor...
45 notes · View notes
nintendont2502 · 1 day ago
Text
finished season one of tma last night ! just gonna dump my thoughts here before i start season two (so i can come back and see how wrong i was lmao)
jon's va is a PHENOMENAL actor, holy shit. like dont get me wrong theyre all amazing, but oh my GOD
speaking of, while im sure the out of universe reasoning for jon putting his entire archivussy into the statements is just bc it makes them more interesting to listen to, i still personally choose to believe that the institute purely hired him for his voice acting skills
theres something.... interesting with jons role that i cant stop thinking about. jane prentiss only referring to him as "archivist". the transcripts (or at least, the ones im using) only referring to him as "archivist". his first impulse being to grab the tape recorder during jane's attack and record the entire thing. the title of archivist is kinda beginning to feel more like... a mask i guess? something that takes over and kinda overshadows your old identity. youre not jon, youre not gertrude - youre just "archivist"
(also something about martin being forced to move into the archives (almost becoming part of the archives) and sasha literally having her identity subsumed and stolen by. whatever the fuck not!sasha is. both of those occurrences only happening because they were acting on behalf of the institute. kinda noticing a trend of identities being lost or stolen or changed because of (and maybe by) the institute, but that could just be a "i connected two dots" "you didnt connect shit" moment yk)
i fully believe the role of archivist is cursed. like one hundred percent. theres something up with that shit and theres no way in hell theyre being paid enough to make up for it
tbf theres no way in hell anyone heres being paid enough to make up for the bullshit they go through. id say they should quit but,,, i dont think they can
except maybe martin. please martin. go live a normal life and write your poetry and stop needing to corkscrew worms out of yourself
"i refuse to become another goddamn mystery" :((
i dont trust the institute. at all. i think at best theyre just a shitty workplace willing to turn a blind eye to some things for the good of their research, and at worst theyre actively hiding something or lying about what they are. theres just been. so many small details that rub me the wrong way yk - the archive team not being allowed to research cases that involve the lukas family in case they pull funding, sasha mentioning research students testing artefacts, the way MAG 37/Burnt Offering starts with jason begging the institute to save his son before acknowledging that theyll never do anything (makes me wonder how many statements they read and dismiss. how many statements they never read. how many people have died because of them?) - and i mean fuck just the general regard for employee health and safety seems to be non existent. also. yk. someone in the building probably murdering gertrude. thats a big thing
worms and rot and decay in the walls and a dead body in the basement. i dont trust them at all
this is definitely just me picking up what the episode was clearly laying out but holy shit gertrudes death feels *wrong*. all this build up, all the signs pointing towards it being something supernatural (the archive being filled with veins (?) in The Dreamers, the ritual site filled with photos of her in Burnt Offering, jane directly threatening the archivist in her statement (which wouldve been gertrude at the time if im not mistaken)) and then its just?? a gun?? and no one finds her body for a year???
that being said the mental image of jane and her merry band of worms sneaking into the archive just to shoot gertrude with a Regular Ass Gun is fucking hilarious
the only episode that really got to me was A Sturdy Lock, and i think that was just bc i got unlucky enough to listen to it on the one night i was home alone. woke up at 4 am, stared at my doorknob for a few minutes and forced myself to go back to sleep
favourite statement is probably a tie between The Dreamers (i love how perfectly it captured the distorted, off, slightly... disturbing vibes i get in my dreams, and as someone who was really vivid really weird dreams - it hit close to home) and Hive (bc holy SHIT jons acting in this was insane. jesus christ. the writing was incredible too holy fuck)
favourite *episode* is Infestation, just bc im a sucker for hearing Jon out of character (for lack of a better term - its fuckin *weird* hearing him emote. i love it) and i love getting more of the other archive staff (especially martin. martin my beloved martin my light more martin forever please and thank you). also jon admitting that he does believe most of the statements and hes fucking terrified of them hits like a truck when youve been making "jon doesnt believe something - take a shot" jokes for the last 38 episodes like i was
jons such a bitch /aff i love him. pathetic wet cat of a man
i fully expect him to try and kill someone next season. potentially himself. hopefully not martin
leitner and your fuck ass books when I Fucking Get You
where is sasha. where is my girl. give her back.
mahtiin :(((
37 notes · View notes
haroun31 · 3 days ago
Text
Down with the King (Y!Stanxeno xreader)
ACT II
Xeno remailed silent, observing your expression with a solemn look, however it wasn't difficult to catch it, the shine in his black pupils that betrayed his growing interest in you and your world "What do you say Gen? Do you sense any lie?"
Your breath hitched when, out of nowhere, a sweet laughter echoed through the whole room and two hands placed themselves on the back of your seat, scaring the shit out of you “My, oh my! What an interesting story! An unknown continent with such an advanced community? What a dream!” a new unknown man leaned closer behind you, popping his head near yours and flashing you a smile “Your majesty this sure does sound too good to be true!”
His eyes resembled those of a fox, a mark underneath his left run down his cheek like a tear. White and black locks entered your peripheral vision, making you instinctively lean away from the new boy. Not to mention, was he always behind you!?
“You are implying that they are lying?” Xeno lifted an eyebrow and you felt your blood run cold. Have they understood already that you just spat out bullshits?! Is this man a lie detector?! “Oh, no, no, my Majesty.” Gen laughed, leaning back “While they most likely just pumped this place with praises over praises I actually don’t think that they are lying about this. . .America” smirking, the man covered his mouth with a sleeve. “But if you are so suspicious why not put them under a test!”
Internally you let out a sigh of relief, feeling your hands clench and unclench from the stressful situation you were undergoing. “A test?” Xeno lifted an eyebrow, intrigued “Yes! A test your Majesty.” Gen repeated, making a blissful expression while making appear flowers hidden inside his sleeves. “Get to the point jester” Stanley grumbled, urging the mentalist to end this shit show.
“A scientific test” finally the young man got serious “Ask them something science related and make our dear Senku check its credibility. If they come from such an intelligent society then it's gonna be their knowledge. What is gonna be? Are they a true super human or simply an able liar?” The king reflected on his words before nodding his head “Alright, we can arrange that” then he shifted his attention to you “Have you heard my advisor? Why don’t you show me your science? Of course for safety reason you are not permitted to use any type of chemical nor tools so I guess you will have to amaze me with just your words”
Showing him your science? What is that supposed to mean? How can you exactly amaze a king with just your words, or more like, what are you gonna share to amaze him. Something easy to start, preferably nothing that could have been seen as witchcraft and that it can be easily proven without difficulty. But what to say, what to share?
Ideas kept coming in your mind and instantly being rejected. Something easy, something logical. Your eyes snapped around the room, searching for anything that could help you but nothing, apart from floreal decorations and swirls caught your attention. . .off topic but they sure remind you of the swirl of the Fibonacci sequence. . .wait–that’s right!
“The golden ratio. . .” before you could realize it, words slipped out of your mouth, attracting the attention of everyone inside the room. “The golden ratio?” Stanley repeated, taking out a cigarette and placing it inside his mouth “What the hell is that?” this made you lift an eyebrow. Do they not know of Fibonacci? Wasn’t he born around 1200 in Italy? Maybe the Devs didn’t know about him and therefore didn’t add his character inside the game. And you can use this to your advantage.
“Tell me, your Majesty, do you like mathematical quizzes?” Xeno lifted his eyebrow in curiosity but nodded nonetheless “Go on” Seeing that shine in his pupils made you feel bolder as you straighten your back and a smile made its way on your lips “My Majesty, a man put a pair of rabbits, a male and a female, in a large cage. How many pairs of rabbits will be produced in that cage in a year, if each month each pair produces one and only one new pair, consisting of a male and a female, that are fertile from the second month of life onwards? Assume that none of the rabbits die during the year.”
The king listened to your quiz, with great attention, and remained silent for a couple of seconds. You waited for his words, ready to continue with the explanation of the quiz, when his suddenly opened his mouth “The first month they will be two, as they are not yet fertilized, and so the second month, the third will be three, then in april they will be five, in may eight, in june thirteen, in july twenty-one, in august thirty-four, in september fifty-five, in october eighty-nine, in november one hundred and forty-four and in december two hundred and thirty-three”
You remained silent, completely baffled by this man's ability to count so quickly and without making any error. Christ! You make mistakes even when using the calculator! “So?” his voice snapped you out of your shock and you quickly shook your head to get back on track “Yea. . .yea that’s right. Ahem. As you can see the next number is found by adding up the two numbers before it” you explained and Xeno nodded his head “Quite the fun trick, I must admit. But I presume this is not all, isn’t it?” 
You shook your head, confirming his suspicions “Here comes the interesting part. Do you have paper and a pen? It will be required” once a maid entered the room and placed down the tools required you went forward “Please draw a cube 1x1. Then near it draw another one” he did as you instructed “See the two sides? Use them as the side of a 2x2 cube and draw it attached to the two first cubes. Then take the addition of the sides and draw another cubes, and so on and so on”
Xeno did so, until you stopped him at the fifth cube “Alright, then, from the very first cube, take the compass and draw a curve from one corner to the other, and so on to all the cubes” you watched as the familiar spiral started forming “Eheh, this, Your Majesty, is the golden ratio. It’s defined as a divine number and the ideal proportion you can find all around nature! Think about the shells, if you compare the two of them you will definitely see a resemblance.”
“The golden ratio is everywhere, in the horns of goats, in hurricanes, in shells, in the seeds of sunflowers. Its sequence is also seen in the number of flowers’ petals. Pay attention next time when walking around your garden. Each flower has exactly either three, five, eight, thirteen and so on petals. Look at the buildings proportions and compare them with the golden ratio. Humanity has always unconsciously leaned toward perfection and harmony”
Xeno remained silent, hanging on every word that exited your mouth, his eyes shining brighter than the stars in the sky. The way you were talking, the passion you were unconsciously displaying while sharing that precious knowledge, it was oh so endearing. It made something stir inside the king’s stomach, that fire that you had inside you, he wanted to see it turn into a blaze, turning everything to ashes. And more than anything, he wanted that knowledge himself, he wanted to make it his.
“Also you can observe a curious fact. When applying the following equation ϕ = a/b = (a + b)/a we can find how it always will result the same number that is gonna be 1.61. Try it if you don’t believe me, your Majesty” you ended up, slightly feeling out of breath after your whole speech and rant. You are not sure if this is gonna sway the king’s heart, after all the Fibonacci sequence is not the most incredible thing science found out but it’s still an interesting knowledge.
A slow clap of hands attracted your attention, shifting your eyes forward as they landed on Xeno, who slowly stood up “So math is also important in the artistic sector? My, how elegant! What an interesting piece of knowledge, my dear” he smirked, his claps slowly coming to an halt, his black eyes bore into yours, the previous shine now completely gone. A couple of seconds passed in pure silence before the king turned around toward his knight and leaned in to whisper something in his ear.
Stanley nodded his head in understanding, his golden eyes stopping on your form briefly as a smink strenched on his lips, making a shiver run down your spine. You have no clue what the king said but you hoped it wasn't anything bad.
Then he walked over you and placed a metal finger under your chin, lifting it up."Someone go and fetch a doctor to make them take a check up. Make sure none of their wounds is infected" his finger slid off as he turned on his heels and made his way out of the room "Make sure to get their mesurement and a lab coat for them" he addressed Senku who simply sighed "What about the assassination attempts?
"What assassination attempts?"
-☆-
"Darling let me bask in your presence for a while" -♡
(You can find the whole fic either on Quotev or Wattpad under the same name as the title!)
34 notes · View notes
gundamthey17 · 6 hours ago
Text
Thinking about Charles "constantly considering everyone else's feelings" Rowland and Edwin "has never had his feelings prioritized ever" Payne
----
May 1991. A library in London.
Edwin slammed his notebook down onto the table, making Charles jump.
"What is it?"
"If I have to endure that noise for much longer, I am going to go mad."
"Er… What noise, mate?"
"Don't tell me you cannot hear it," Edwin replied, going a tinge wide-eyed at the thought.
They sat in silence for a moment. Charles strained his ears. He could just make out a soft, electric hum. "That buzzing?"
"Yes!"
Charles grimaced sympathetically. "Think it's the lights, mate. The fluorescents do that. I didn't even notice 'til you said something."
"You're joking. It is maddening!"
"Guess I'm just used to it." Noticing how Edwin's shoulders had been creeping upward by degrees over the course of their conversation, Charles stood and swept the books off the table into his new backpack.
"What are you doing?" Edwin frowned.
"You said you're about to go mad, yeah? So let's go somewhere else. No reason we have to stay here, is there," Charles said with a shrug and an easy smile.
A tiny bit of tension eased out of Edwin's body. He adjusted his jacket in that proper way of his. "Well, if it isn't bothering you -"
"But it's bothering you. So let's go."
Edwin opened his mouth, then closed it again. Nodding to himself, he gathered his notebook and pen and stood up. "Very well," he said primly.
Charles grinned and slung an arm over Edwin's shoulders as they walked outside. "Love it when you talk all posh like that," he said.
Edwin shrugged out of his grasp, but Charles saw the corners of his mouth turn upwards. They walked in silence for a moment, until Edwin cleared his throat. "Thank you," he said simply.
It was Charles' turn to frown. "For what?"
"Taking my feelings into account, I guess," Edwin replied after a moment. "We didn't have to leave."
"Don't be ridiculous! Not that hard to just go somewhere else, is it?"
"It is an inconvenience."
"Pfft, barely," Charles scoffed. "Be a lot more inconvenient if those lights drove you mental, wouldn't it?"
Edwin stopped abruptly. Charles turned to face him. Edwin was pressing his fists together, which Charles recognized as a sign that he was upset about something. Even more alarmingly, his eyes were brimming with tears. He sniffed and blinked rapidly, refusing to look at Charles.
"Mate, talk to me. What's wrong? Did I say something?"
"No, it's nothing. I -" His voice caught. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I am unaccustomed to… People do not usually… care about my discomfort."
"How d'you mean?"
"In general." Edwin waved his hand. "There were things - back when I was alive - that used to bother me. Sounds, smells. Lights, sometimes. People always became cross if I brought it up. The governess, teachers -"
"Even your parents?"
"Especially my parents. I didn't dare say anything to them. Children were supposed to be seen and not heard." A note of bitterness had crept into his voice.
Charles scowled, suddenly feeling irrationally angry. If the people who'd treated Edwin that way weren't already long dead, he'd have had some choice words for them. Maybe more than that. "Well that's bollocks," he said. It came out harsher than he'd intended, but Edwin didn't flinch. He merely looked at Charles curiously. "From now on, if something's bothering you, you tell me and I'll sort it. 'kay?" He put his hands on Edwin's shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "You're not an inconvenience, Edwin. Not to me. You got that?"
Edwin took a shaky breath and nodded. He swallowed. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it." Charles smiled, then turned and continued walking, watching out of the corner of his eye to make sure Edwin had started moving too. "So, where to? There's gotta be someplace in this city where we can look at a bunch of dusty old books without obnoxious lights buzzing everywhere."
47 notes · View notes
misfxtteam · 7 hours ago
Text
Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever heard Tony say so much to him. This entire day, this is the most they’ve ever spoken even if you took out the sex, and now this, this was much more personal than anything Tony had told him before. So he listens, he really listens so that he can try to understand where Tony’s at right now and what’s going on in his head. And he keeps going, sure it seems a little rambley but it also makes sense.
He rests a hand on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing lightly when Tony says that he’s not going to mind if he needs space, “I want to, genuinely I haven’t slept right since I came out of cryo in Wakanda and came back here,” he admits, letting hand drop as the doors open, “And you’re right, this is all..weird, absolutely not what I expected and i’m guessing you didn’t either. But I’m fuckin’ wiped and I know I would rather fall asleep with the person who did that than try and sleep alone,” he agrees.
This was a whole different experience in general for him , and he finds himself nodding, “I’m used to the whole getting dressed and never mentioning it again,” he admits as they step out of the elevator, glancing around. He liked how the penthouse was laid out, it was open and the view of the city was beautiful. But he focused on Tony again as he points out the bar and everything, going to grab a few bottles of water before coming back to Tony so they could walk to the bedroom together.
“It’s funny, when you first offered, I was worried that it wasn’t something you wanted and now you were worried that it wasn’t something I wanted to do. But embracing the weird sounds like the best idea, at least if we want this to work. And I don’t mean I expect something…just if we want this to work so that we don’t sort of hate each other anymore,” he explains, looking around the bedroom as they get in, “Jesus, you really have the best floor out of all of us” he teases, grinning as he adds, “which is only fair given it’s your tower.”
He hesitates to get closer to the bed but it’s not out of nervousness, “which side do you prefer?” He asks, wanting to know before he accidentally chose the wrong one.
Bucky can tell that Tony hadn’t been expecting that, and he hadn’t really thought about how weird it must seem that he would want to give it. He smiles faintly when Tony assures him that he didn’t need it and that he had done much rougher things before, now that had him wanting to ask questions about what kind of rough had Tony he before? He pulls his own clothes on carefully, wondering if he should maybe give Tony some space.
The fact that they had sex didn’t change what Bucky had done, and he wonders if Tony really was going to be able to tolerate him now? It seemed too good to be true honestly, to hope that Tony wasn’t going to eventually go back to hating him for what he had been forced to do. But maybe that was the skeptic in him that was doubting, because the way Tony was acting seemed to suggest that it was possible that they would start to be okay around each other now. He knows they’ll still be sarcastic as hell with each other, but it would be because they’re both smart asses not because they hate each other. He couldn’t walk away now without feeling guilty; Tony would obviously know whether or not he was okay so he believes him but Bucky still wouldn’t feel much peace if he left and didn’t take a little while to show that he didn’t mean the things he had just been saying.
It was probably embarrassing but most of Bucky’s knowledge of kink since he’d woken up had come from researching and reading things online. He had gone down the rabbit hole more than once on the nights he had trouble sleeping when he started looking up things to do with his sexuality, then it would shift to kink, and before he’d realized it he spent the entire night reading about different aspects of BDSM. It was interesting to him in more ways than just sexually, and he hadn’t actually expected the knowledge to come in handy.
He stands as Tony gives orders to the bots, watching as they immediately began to move. He really was fascinated by those bots, and now maybe the next time he was here for something he could actually talk to Tony about them. He grabs his jacket and follows Tony to the elevator, leaning against the back wall as they ascend.
“I know you said you’re okay, so thanks for..indulging me,” he says with a sheepish smile, running his hands through his hair and putting it back into place (or trying to). “I’ve just..never done some of that stuff before and I..i don’t know, it would make me feel all sorts of wrong to just do all that and then walk away,” he explains, knowing it might be weird. He appreciates that Tony was allowing him to come up with him, it was the first time he would be in Tony’s area, aside from the lab.
79 notes · View notes
ssweeterthanfiction · 3 days ago
Text
Wait for your love.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
content warnings (for the whole series): mentions of drugs and alcohol, age gap, gaslighting, billy being TOXICCCCC, mentions of suicide/suicidal thoughts, mental health issues
↳ currently playing ;
No. 1 Party Anthem - 1978
1:56 ——————•———— 3:24
↺       <<         ll          >>    ⋮≡
In September of ‘78, both Daisy Jones & The Six and Y/N announced their tours. And while the ticket sales for Daisy Jones & The Six were high, Y/N’s were much higher.
Y/N: “I didn’t think that my ticket sales were gonna be so well if I’m going to be honest.”
“I fell off the face of the earth for a year. It was shocking enough to see that my album take off the way it did. So the fact that my team had to scramble to make my tour go from an all arena tour to a full stadium tour to keep up with the demand of tickets…that was just…wow.”
“The band was also getting a lot of attention after Aurora released. I didn’t want to show it then but…I was proud. I was proud of them. I was proud that they had the world in their hands…that they had everything they wanted.”
Billy: “I should’ve been happy for her. I should’ve been proud. But all I could feel was this fucking pit in my stomach. This jealousy, this resentment… and it was eating me up from the inside.”
“The thing is, I wasn’t just angry at her. I was angry at myself. Angry at how I couldn’t keep it together. How I couldn’t be the man she needed me to be. I couldn’t even be the man I needed to be for me, you know?”
“So I did what I always did when I felt lost. I turned to the only thing that would drown out the noise in my head…drugs, alcohol, you name it. And the worst part? The band getting caught up in the mess of it all and I didn’t even care. I was spiraling, falling deeper and deeper, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. It felt like the only way to cope, to deal with everything crashing around me.”
“And she- she was out there. Selling out stadiums. Living her life, her dreams. She didn’t need me anymore. She was bigger than everything. Bigger than us. And I couldn’t figure out how to hold on to anything. Not even her.”
“I let her go, and she let me go, too. That was the hardest part to swallow.
Y/N: “I didn’t want to let him go.”
"I only let him go because I had to let him go."
“But everyone thought I did."
"They thought I wanted to let him go. They thought that I was this strong, untouchable thing who moved on like it was nothing."
"At first it was true, but that was only because I was angry....but then that anger turned into sadness."
"So, it ended up even being true.”
"I had to pretend I was okay. I had to make myself believe that I was okay. And sure, did I feel better now that I didn't have Billy constantly on me? Yes."
"But I never stopped loving him."
"Not even when I was selling out stadiums. Not even when I was standing in front of thousands of people every night, pretending I was whole without him."
“The truth is…I kept looking for him. Every city, every crowd, I searched for his face. I’d finish a show, and the first thing I’d do when I got back to my hotel room was check the phone.”
“Hoping there’d be a call, a message… something. But it was always nothing.”
“I don’t know what I was expecting. I mean- I just disappeared for a whole year.”
“I guess, I just…wanted to hear his voice.”
She inhales sharply.
"I was standing in front of thousands of people, every night, singing songs about him, and I thought I’d moved on. But how the fuck do you move on from something like that?”
“So I stopped. Not because I wanted to. But because I had to.”
  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶
The crowd was deafening, their cheers shaking the foundation of the stadium as you stood at the edge of the stage. Thousands of voices screamed your name.
The stage lights burned bright, hot against your skin. You could feel it. This moment, this success, this dream you'd built from the ground up.
You should’ve felt alive.
Instead, you felt empty.
You stepped back, pushing damp strands of hair from your face as your heart pounded.
You looked out to the crowd, searching for something—someone.
But he wasn't there.
You knew he wasn't going to be there.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath.
It's okay.
It's better this way.
  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶
Billy: “I got lost, you know? I really fucking got lost after she left. Everything just started spinning out of control, like I was in this dark pit I couldn’t get out of. I thought I could handle it...hell, I thought I had control over everything back then. But once she was gone, that pit just... it swallowed me whole."
"And the worst part? I didn’t even care. At first, anyway. Because, well, I didn’t have to care, right? I was Billy Dunne. I had everything. I had the band, I had the fame, I had people who would have killed to be in my shoes. I could have anyone."
"But it was always her. It was always her that I wanted."
"I remember the shit I used to say to her, though. About how she was replaceable. About how she should be lucky to be with me. I made her feel small, like she should be grateful I even chose her."
"Like she was just something I could throw away if I wasn’t feeling it anymore."
"I used to tell her I could have anyone. That she didn’t mean anything special. That I was the one who was doing her a favor. But it was bullshit. I know that now. It was all to cover up how fucking scared I was that I wasn’t good enough for her. That I wasn’t enough, and if I told her that, if I let her know that she was the best thing that ever happened to me, maybe, just maybe, she’d see it too and leave me anyway."
"I wish I could take it all back. All the things I said. All the ways I treated her. I wish I could go back to when she was still mine, when she was still looking at me with that goddamn hope in her eyes. I wish I could’ve been the person she needed, the person she deserved. But I wasn’t. I was too busy being a fucking mess to see that."
  🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶
Billy was drunk.
Not the good kind of drunk where everything felt light and floaty.
No, never that kind of drunk.
This was the kind of drunk where nothing made sense anymore.
He sat slumped on the couch, bottle in hand, the laughter of the band echoing around him. They were celebrating another sold-out show, but he wasn’t there. Not really.
He should’ve been proud. Should’ve been reveling in the success of Aurora, in the fact that they were finally on top. But instead, all he could hear was the distant hum of your name. Every magazine cover, every radio interview—your name.
You were everywhere.
But not with him.
He took another chug, the alcohol burning down his throat, numbing the ache that never seemed to go away. His hands trembled slightly as he reached for the newspaper on the table, the bold headline staring back at him.
MIDNIGHT'S REGRETS—SELLS OUT ANOTHER STADIUM. THE BIGGEST TOUR OF THE YEAR?
Billy’s grip tightens around the bottle as he stares at the picture beneath the headline. It’s you. Standing on stage, arms outstretched, the entire world screaming for you. You’re smiling. You look radiant. Untouchable.
You were on top of the world.
Without him.
Billy stares at the ceiling, the room spinning slightly.
He wonders if you ever think about him.
If you ever stare at the ceiling the way he does.
If you ever miss him the way he misses you.
But then he remembers the stadiums. The flashing lights. The roaring crowds chanting your name.
And he convinces himself that you don’t.
🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶
Y/N: "Other than missing Billy, tour was pretty good for me."
"Sure I was sad, but being up on stage helped. Every night, when I stepped out there, I was surrounded by the kind of love I couldn’t get from anywhere else. The crowd, the music, it was all so loud, so overwhelming. And it made me feel.. seen. It made me feel like I mattered, like I was something more than just a broken heart."
"It’s funny, though. The more I saw myself getting bigger, the more I realized I was just pretending. I was pretending like I didn’t care, like it didn’t hurt."
"But no matter how many stadiums I played, how many people screamed my name…nothing felt right. Nothing felt like it used to. Because there was always this gaping hole where he used to be."
"But honestly....I as much as I wanted to see him...I was afraid to see him just as much..."
"And...I know a lot of people think that I didn't see Billy and the others til the 1979 Grammys...."
"But I actually saw them after my L.A show."
🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶
Billy hadn’t planned on going. He didn’t even know if he could handle seeing you live, seeing how far you’d come without him. But as the hours ticked by, he felt this strange pull. It felt like fate, or maybe it was just curiosity, but either way, he couldn’t shake the idea.
He wasn’t the only one who felt it.
"Are we really doing this?" Warren asks as they walk toward the venue, his voice laced with uncertainty. "I mean, after everything? Are we ready for that?"
Billy shrugs, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. "We have the day off. Might as well."
Graham’s gaze is fixed on Billy, his expression unreadable. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"
Billy hesitates, but then nods. He doesn’t know if he’s ready. But he knows he has to see you. He has to see how you’ve changed, what you’ve become. If only to prove to himself that you were better off without him.
They all settle in their seats and ehe sound of cheering grows louder as the lights begin to dim.
"Here we go" Eddie says quietly.
🎶 .·:*¨🎶💋🎶¨*:·. 🎶
Y/N: "No one knew I was hurting. Sometimes even i think I didn't know I was hurting."
Karen: "When she came out on stage, she looked so...happy. So free."
“You could tell she was in her element. The way she moved, the way she smiled, it was like she wasn’t the same person anymore. Like she had shed everything, all the pain, all the hurt, and just…blossomed.”
Eddie: "You know what stood out to me? The way she looked at the crowd. The way she was in complete control. She was exactly where she needed to be."
Graham: "Her performance was just- wow. That's the best way to describe it."
"Because only she could go from twirling around stage in a long flowing dress to it being ripped off and revealing a sparkly top and skirt- at least at the time."
Warren: "She was killing it." "Her fans were going crazy, and honest I was too, especially during the 'love is embarrassing' dance break."
"And then when her show was interrupted because her team told her she was nominated for three Grammys? I don't think i've ever heard a crowd get that loud."
Daisy: "She looked so happy when she found out. And honestly it was deserved. She deserved to be happy. Not some pretend happiness shit, she deserved true happiness."
"But then something...shifted on stage."
Y/N: "It happened when I was singing Clean."
"I was as okay as I could be, but for some reason I just- I started to feel. Like really feel."
"I felt like everything from the past year was just crashing down on me."
"I don't know why I did what I did, but I changed a lyric while I was on stage."
"The original lyric was '10 months sober I must admit, just because your clean don't mean you don't miss it'."
"I changed it to '10 months sober I must admit, just because your clean don't mean you don't miss him'."
Warren: "I think we all collectively had a 'did she really say that' moment."
"Billy especially."
Daisy: "I was standing next to Billy, and I could see him visibly tense up."
"And that's not even the worst part of it."
"A little bit after the song ended, we got moved to a VIP tent."
"Guess her team found out we were there."
Y/N: "I didn't think much of it at first."
"It was a small change. A mistake."
"But deep down, I knew it was how I felt."
"And then...."
"I started 'Bejeweled'."
"And the choreography for that had me walking all over the stage."
"That's when I saw them."
"That's when I saw him."
Billy: "I don't even know how to describe that moment. One second, she was just…her. Larger than life, untouchable. And then she looked right at us."
Karen: "Her eyes widened. Just for a second. She didn’t miss a beat. She kept performing, kept singing, but I could tell. That second changed everything."
Eddie: "It was like the world stopped. I swear, she stumbled for half a second. Most people wouldn’t have noticed, but we did."
Daisy: "The way she looked at Billy…that wasn’t just shock. That was years of love, heartbreak, regret, and whatever the hell else they never said to each other."
Warren: "I honestly felt like I shouldn’t be watching. Like it was too personal."
Graham: "And Billy? Jesus. He just stood there, completely frozen. I don't think he even breathed."
Billy: "I...I wasn’t ready for that. I thought I was. I thought, you know, we’d see her, we’d hear her sing, and that would be it. But the second her eyes met mine, I knew it wasn’t over. Not really."
Y/N: "The second I saw him, I forgot the lyrics. My own damn lyrics."
"I covered it up, kept singing, let the crowd fill in, but my hands were shaking. My heart was pounding. Because there he was, standing in the middle of my world, looking at me like I was still his."
"And that? That made the anger come back."
Karen: "She kept going, but there was something different now. She wasn’t just performing anymore. She was feeling it."
Daisy: "I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like she was singing at Billy. Every word, every move, it was all for him, but not in a good way."
Y/N: "I made it through the song. Barely. But my head was spinning. My heart was pounding."
"I thought I was going to run off stage again."
"But I thought, "No. Not again.""
"So I kept going."
She laughs. "Thankfully the next two songs were 'Better Than Revenge' and 'Out Of The Woods', so I was able to take all my anger out."
Warren: "Oh, she went for it. Like, full-throttle, no-holding-back, fuck-you kind of energy."
Eddie: "By the time she hit 'Better Than Revenge,' the whole crowd could feel it. She wasn’t just performing anymore, she was calling him out."
Karen: "The way she stomped across that stage, the way she sneered certain lyrics…Yeah, we all knew exactly who she was thinking about."
Daisy: "He knew too."
Graham: "Billy didn’t say a word. Just stood there, jaw clenched, staring at the stage like he was waiting for her to break. But she didn’t."
Billy: "You want the truth? I wanted to leave. I should have left. But I couldn't. I had to see it, see her. Even if it killed me."
Y/N: "I sang my heart out. I screamed my heart out. Every word, every lyric, I meant them all."
"I twirled, I kicked, I let my hair whip around me. The lights were blinding, the crowd was deafening, but all I could focus on was that one damn spot in the VIP tent."
"He was still watching. Still there."
"So I gave him a show."
Daisy: "She didn’t just perform. She owned that stage. Like she was proving something. Maybe to him, maybe to herself. Maybe both."
Warren: "And then she hit 'Out of the Woods,' and I swear to God, I thought the roof was gonna blow off the place."
Karen: "That song has always been intense, but this? This was something else."
Y/N: "I should’ve been exhausted by the time the song ended. I should’ve felt drained, empty. But I didn’t."
"I felt alive."
"Even when final note of the encore rang out. "
"The crowd was screaming, and I just stood there, panting, my heart hammering in my chest."
"I looked back at the VIP tent."
"I saw Billy."
"And when I looked into his eyes..."
"I knew he was back in my life again."
"Whether I liked it or not."
A/N: HOLYYYYY SHIT ITS FINALLY OUT!!!!
hope u guys enjoyed!!! i promise that GOU is next!
tysm for reading and as always my requests/asks are open (if u guys wanna chat abt this chapter <33)
27 notes · View notes
theallianceofcelestials · 3 days ago
Note
why does mirror moon loves anyone with rays?
in the ask about if both moons watched over the “children” as babies, u mentioned that mirror moon loved any nephew with rays. Why?
The easy answer is because they remind him of Sun
But in reality it's because he associates the rays with everything that's good and positive in a person. If someone has a nightcap (meaning moon model), they're bloodthirsty maniacs. If someone has rays, they're the sweetest most caring, most wonderful person ever
In There're no eclipses here the scene where Solar goes to confront him I specifically mention his eyes are following the rays. It's because he's wondering how Solar can have rays paartially, and also because as I mentioned to him rays are a sign of good. That's why he flips so easily and quickly from hostile to I have a nephew I guess, because in his mind it makes sense now. In a way he was basically proven correct again about the idea that rayed people are superior and better, and must be protected.
And you might wonder if he thinks so highly of rayed models, why does he hurt Solar? Affection and a form of intimacy is one answer. The other is twisted pleasure in his ability to put Solar back together no matter what he does. He's fascinated by his animatronic build, fascinated by the fact he can just be put into a new body. And he genuienly likes seeing Solar's pain, in a way he thinks it's pretty. Like how rayed people are pretty. He loves seeing his rays move when he's struggling, likes touching them. But he'd never bend them. Never tear them out. That's the one thing one can be sure about him
But yeah, he's one sick twisted fuck and should not be allowed near anyone </3
25 notes · View notes
silvershadow1711 · 1 day ago
Note
I think something that drives me crazy when I think about the binary star game is the double and haley endings
Like- SURELY it cant be that easy right?? Surely we’re gonna acknowledge the aliens still planning to bring on the END OF THE WORLD while Double has us chained or us going thieving with haley and miles. Believe me, I love Haley and Double endings because GOSH i love Haley and miles but they are NAWT safe and gonna be happy for long when we literally remember the worldbuilding and that drives me crazy ToT
Another thing also is yuh Ray. I think what gets me so jumpy with their endings and after stories is well- idk, The lack of Binary star mention?? (i mean they do mention him but) That guy is NOT leaving us alone and that makes me so paranoid because oh god Haley, Miles, hell double are in danger still.
Like are we seriously gonna go and be thieves with Haley when we have our own serious history with idk, BINARY STAR THE NUMBER 1 PSYCHO HERO? mb i fr just dont want my besties killed 😞🙏 With Double though I guess my paranoia isn’t that extreme considering how good at hiding I assume he can be?
I think it just makes me all jumpy thinking despite us getting Haley or Double endings, we are not gonna be left alone yknow? We’re not- safe and sound even as we hang with Haley in the diner. We’re not gonna be safe with us chained to Double because surely soon enough *he’s* gonna come right? Or idk just decide its the end of the world
Ill stop my yapanese rq I gotta eat lunch 🥳!!
OH MY FUCKING GOD YES! FINALLY SOMEONE ELSE ACKNOWLEDGES THAT THE HALEY ENDING IS COMPLETELY DIVORCED FROM THE REST OF THE STORY!!
Like, I'm pretty sure I've said this before (where or when or to whom i don't remember) but Ray does not care about what you want. You don't like him? You're not interested? That's nice; you don't have a say in the matter. You are either in a relationship with Ray- whether or not you want to be- or you are dead. There are no other options, the Haley and Double endings are just prolonging one of those outcomes.
It doesn't matter how good Double thinks he is at hiding- Ray can read thoughts. Sure there's probably a maximum distance, but it's not like the guy is keeping you in the earth's core. What else is Ray going to do other than sweep entire cities until he hears you mentally bitching about Double for the umpteenth time?
It's even worse in the Haley ending because Double can at least teleport you away to put some distance between you and Ray (though, let's be serious; he would absolutely throw you at Binary Star like a feral cat to buy himself time to escape). If Ray shows up- and he WILL show up, let's not delude ourselves- what is Haley going to do? Even assuming they can turn into literally any animal they want, what's a hippo or tiger going to do against lasers that can melt diamonds? Die, that's what. And the fact that the MC isn't even thinking about Ray in that ending just shows how utterly divorced from reality they are- at least in the Double ending, seeing Ray's face everywhere makes them paranoid. If he showed up in the Haley ending, MC would probably say something like "what's your name again? I wanna say... Roy?"
(Haley ending is the Golden Deer route of BSH, change my mind)
And as for the alien invasion, it would be so funny if, while it's happening, Ray does nothing and while the people are begging him to save them, he interrupts a presidential address as Binary Star and directly addresses the MC. Like, their full name and everything on live tv. "MC. I know you're watching this. And I'm here to tell you- you, specifically- that I'm not doing jack shit until you come back to me. That's all it would take to end this. The blood of every man, woman and child that dies in this invasion is on your hands until you come home. Make your choice, Star."
24 notes · View notes
m-jelly · 2 days ago
Note
Hello jelly! How are you, I've got a request (it has been awhile as I am sick, but here we go) Could you write a one shot about Levi watching his SO, who is the one that helps him through his boughts of insomnia, getting attacked by a titan and losing her leg. How would he help and stuff?
Tumblr media
Pain, loss and love.
Levi x fem reader
Canon world, married, angst, fluff, caring Levi, mentions of blood, healing.
Tumblr media
Where were you? You had to be around somewhere. The last time Levi had eyes on you was only a few minutes ago, but now you were missing. Panic was setting in. You couldn't have gotten far; there weren't many titans left except for an abnormal.
It then clicked in his head. You were facing that beast alone. Levi trusted you, he believed in your strength but there was a lot of young blood about. He was concerned that others would put you at risk.
Levi flew across the broken village and spotted you ahead. He felt happy just for a moment until everything went wrong. A young kid flew in the way of the titan's jaws. You shoved them out of the way, saving their lives. Horror consumed Levi as he watched the titan launch up and bite down on your leg.
Blood sprayed from you and the titan towards Levi. He flinched a little as the blood hit his cheek. It took a few moments for his brain to process what he saw. Before he knew it, he was screaming your name and flying towards the titan and slicing into it over and over until there was nothing left.
He panted as his senses came back to him, he looked for you again to see you'd managed to escape and you were lying on the roof in pain with the lower half of your left leg missing. He flew over to you as blood oozed out of your torn wound.
You panted and gripped at Levi. "I'm okay. Levi, I'm okay."
He yanked his cape off, tore it up wrapped up your wound and pulled tightly to stop the blood flow. "We need to get you back to base."
You gulped hard. "Am I still pretty?"
Levi welled up as he chuckled. "Stop joking at a time like this."
You reached over and poked his bloodied cheek. "Got you smiling though."
"You did." He scooped you up. "We need to get you back." He flew off with you. "And for the record, I think you're sexy and hot still. I'll make sure you have the best wheelchair as well."
"I know you will."
Levi didn't stop until he got you to safety. He hated having to wait for the medical team to fix your leg. He hated that you had to be in hospital. He hated that he didn't protect you like he promised in his vows. He felt like a mess, like he'd let you down, like he was a bad husband but he knew you'd give him so many kisses and praise him.
"Levi." Erwin walked closer with a smile. "I can see a small smile on your face meaning you're thinking of your wife telling you off, right?"
Levi hummed. "She's too cute for her own good."
"You should clean up. Your wife won't be available for a while."
Levi released a long sigh. "Can't believe someone else has had to tell me to be clean."
"It's understandable, this is your wife we're talking about. The only woman you've ever loved got hurt in front of you. You broke." He patted Levi's shoulder. "A quick shower will do you good."
He did just as Erwin suggested, he washed up and changed into the comfy clothes he knew you loved. He returned to your hospital room and was allowed to sit next to you. He played with his wedding ring as you slept peacefully. The doctors explained you were fine, you were strong and you were impressive. They let him know that once everything was healed you could get a nice wooden prosthetic to help you walk.
"Levi?"
He flinched and looked over at you. "Hey, beautiful."
You giggled when he sat on your bed and began kissing your face. "Hey. You look good."
"Thank you." He held your hands and began kissing your fingers. "You are so stunning, brat."
"Thank you." You winced a little. "I guess no more being a scout, huh?"
"You can still be a scout, brat. You can help with paperwork."
You said your full name. "Slayer of paperwork instead of titans."
He bit your finger. "Deadly."
No matter what you needed, Levi got it for you. He was there every single day. Normally, you helped him with insomnia and soothed him, but since he started taking care of you he didn't need much help he just slept easily because every day and every minute was all about you. Erwin gave him less missions at work so he could dedicate time to you, plus you did paperwork for the scouts and enjoyed the new role.
The big day for you came and Levi was nervous, today you were finally having your finished and perfected wooden prosthetic fitted and checked. While Levi was nervous you were incredibly excited about it all. Levi watched as the doctor talked you through everything, he had to admit he was a bit possessive of you and felt slight irritation when the man touched your thigh a lot as the leg was fitted on. However, Levi behaved because you were so happy and excited.
You grinned at Levi. "How does it look?"
Levi rubbed your back. "Gorgeous like you."
The doctor moved back. "Let me help you walk."
You shook your head. "I want Levi to help." You opened your arms out. "Levi?"
He rushed to stand in front of you. "Yes." He held your arms and pulled you to your feet. "Careful. Nice and slow, okay?"
"Got it."
Levi looked down. "Okay, step forward with your left." He pulled you closer. "Good, now the right."
You breathed a few times before stepping forward. "Ah, I did it!"
"Any pain?"
You shook your head. "No, it's good. It feels weird, but good."
"You want to keep going?"
"Yes." You walked with Levi before the aching started. "I need to stop."
Levi picked you up and took you to your chair. "You did so well."
The doctor smiled and noted on his pad. "Well done. Just keep practising with your husband and you'll be running in no time."
You grinned at him. "Thank you!"
He handed over a letter. "Take these meds to help with the slight pain."
"Got it."
Levi pushed your chair along. "Thank you again." He kept moving and clicked his tongue where you were away from the doctor. "Asshole kept flirting with you."
You giggled. "He was just being nice."
"He touched you a lot."
"Well, you can touch me a lot when we get home to replace his touch."
Levi smiled. "I like that." He leaned and kissed the side of your head. "I love you."
"Love you always."
@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @dreamerofthewest @abiatackerman @minminroie
53 notes · View notes
issues4him · 3 hours ago
Note
https://www.tumblr.com/issues4him/778743145868476416/i-love-your-blue-collar-rafe-and-sahm-reader
What is blue collar rafes job?? Is he in construction or what exactly
Also does he eventually have his own company or what?? I know he is all about being his family’s provider and letting reader stay home with the babies so I feel like he eventually makes a good living for his family and is successful
anon, my beloved, you read my mind!! you know he’s the kind of guy that takes a ton of pride in his work, comes home covered in sawdust and sweat, and still kisses you like he’s not exhausted.
here’s blue collar!rafe’s job description:
Tumblr media
rafe’s job title was lead framing foreman. he was already working construction jobs by 17, started part-time during high school. he didn’t go to college—he went straight to the job site. that’s 6+ years of experience by the time he was 23. he wanted to move up fast—especially with a family. he asked for more responsibility, more hours, more chances. guys like rafe work 10-hour days and stay late to prove themselves. that kind of work ethic gets noticed & rewarded.
by 21, he was running crews. by 23, the younger guys were calling him “boss” without even meaning to. and by 26? he was already getting frustrated & burnt out. not because he didn’t like work—he loved it—but because he hated answering to people who didn’t care the way he did.
he’d come home grumbling about being told to cut corners. or about the guys higher up taking credit. or about gary not ordering the right wood again. you’d watch him shake his head at the dinner table, hunter in his lap, wren eating everything on her plate (that girl eats so much), emmett asking if he could help on the site someday. and you knew—he was ready.
you were the one who mentioned it first. “why don’t you just start your own company?”
rafe looked up like you’d read his mind. he didn’t say anything for a minute—just blinked, then smirked and rubbed the back of his neck. “been thinkin’ ‘bout it. just not sure if it’s the right time, i guess.”
you grinned. “we’ve never waited for the ‘right’ time, rafe. we had a baby at nineteen and still made a damn life, didn’t we?” he kissed you right then and there—forever grateful for your support.
a few months later, he filed the paperwork to officially start his business—CAMERON & SON’S
because even though emmett was only six and hunter was only two, rafe was already planning to teach them everything. he pictured the logo on a truck, the name on signs, the boys working beside him one day. wren bringing lunch to the site with you. hunter hammering nails into scrap wood at five years old. he converted the garage out back into a workshop and office space. bought his first work trailer. you helped him design a little business card that made him weirdly emotional the first time he held it. he didn’t need much. just his tools, his name, and you standing beside him, grinning because you always believed in him first.
when rafe landed his first solo job you made a damn cake. with the company name written in icing. he blushed. the kids clapped. maverick barked. and rafe—your hard-working, sweaty, built-like-a-house husband—cried a little in the garage that night.
because this was it. his name. his company. his dream. and he built it for all of you.
Tumblr media
28 notes · View notes
contritecactite · 5 hours ago
Text
Hey folks. There sure is a lot of Everything going on, and I'm sorry to be mentioning another piece of it.
But I want to call your attention to beautiful Palm Harbor Library, which is currently being singled out by a member of the county's board of commissioners. The supposed area of concern is "promotion of inappropriate materials and ideologies in the children's section," and though the discussion is largely focused on gender identity, there's also a complaint in his statement about children being exposed to the concept of abolishing prisons. Buddy, there are children 0-12 who have loved ones in prisons. They have every right to be educated about that just as they have every right to be educated about identities.
Vince Nowicki's proposal in the meeting suggests that he's only concerned with promotion of these materials and that his resolution won't lead to banning or removal of works... but the language in the current written proposal suggests otherwise, granting the right to remove materials deemed inappropriate.
Another member of the board speaks very casually about "getting their attention through the budget," which is a pretty thinly veiled threat against staff and resources, which negatively impacts the community he claims to be interested in protecting. There's also a mention of the previous director having "retired or left or whatever"... take your guesses about whether it's a coincidence 🙃
So what can you do? Currently, there is a petition against that resolution, which hasn't yet been pushed. It's worth sharing to try to keep that resolution from moving forward to the point of being enforceable! But remember, these people are going to try to get their way through other means (budget) even if the resolution is never passed.
So the things you can do about that are:
Call them (and others) out on those threats. They willingly admit in the meeting linked about that they're not receiving complaints from the community about materials in the library and are instead acting on their own opinions. They have seen a place where they can exert power and just want to kick over someone's sandcastle because they can.
Spread awareness. Any response to this situation is better coming from members of the impacted community, but they might not yet be aware of the the situation, and you might be able to bring it to their attention.
Check in with your own local institutions! Libraries all over are under fire to different degrees, and they're not the only ones. There is a lot happening, but we can make a big difference by focusing on strengthening local protections.
23 notes · View notes
toruforuu · 7 hours ago
Text
gojo satoru x reader || hogwarts au (18+)
wonderwall ch.5 incandescent glow
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
✼pairing: hogwarts au - slytherin!gojo x ravenclaw!reader
✼summary: gojo satoru, the golden boy of a famous family lineage of wizards sets his sights on you, a half blood defying his pureblood morals. he makes it a goal in his life to make yours a living hell. years of endless pestering, teasing and rivalry stretching out. as times goes on, he finds himself thinking about you more than he isn’t. he grows torn between his family’s beliefs and the forbidden ache tickling his chest whenever he sees you
✼meaning: wonderwall - the person you cannot stop thinking about (song by oasis)
✼genre/tags: hogwarts au, female reader, strangers to enemies/sort of academic rivals to forbidden lovers, slow burn, angst, eventual smut, pining and yearning (mostly gojo), built up tension, teasing, bickering and pestering, jealousy, slightly spoiled gojo, obsessed and lovesick gojo, both are pretty oblivious to their feelings
✼warnings: discrimination, death, grief, shitty parents, light bullying, mentions of hook ups, sexual topics, family pressure and trauma, mentions of injuries and violence, degradation, mentions of political views, escalating political situation, lgbtq representation, cheating
✼word count: 8.9k
✼chapter: 5/?
a/n: hello lovelies! I always wondered how these writes pull up with long ass chapters and I guess I get it now lmao. I also decided to include my favourite greek mythology legend of the star crossed lovers. the constellation is gonna play a little cute role later! anyway, i am taking another entrance exam this saturday and my graduation process is starting soon as well and i am not too sure when another chapter is gonna come out. hopefully soon, but my psychology and education topics for viva are sure giving me a hard time:<
based on this // previous chapter // next chapter (pending…)
˚⟡˖ ࣪:link to the playlist
˚⟡˖ ࣪:link to the vision-board
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ✼
Present, summer of 07’
The ripe age of adulthood felt bittersweet as you stood on a hill, one close to where Arabella lives in the countryside. You couldn’t help but recall those sweltering days in the countryside spent beneath the trees near her house or running up this very hill till your lungs might’ve given out. This nostalgia you’re feeling is a mere proof you are living a life to be proud of, what a privilege it is to yearn for your own memories. But now you’re both grown, almost old enough to use magic outside of the school walls and it’s almost melancholic. Couple of months and the power to wield magic would be yours.
It’s the start of July, only couple of days ago you were at Hogwarts, listening to the speech given by the headmaster. Nothing changed since then, only that you had managed to calm down your racing mind, which was filled with anxious whereabouts about the near future. Arabella stands at your side, a hat sitting on her head to shield her from the heat, strawberry blonde curls tucked away beneath it. The scent of sunscreen lingering in the air. You were anxiously picking at the cuticles around your fingers as you mindlessly waited for the arrival of the misfits along with their port-key. While the heat wave suffocates you and sweat builds up at the back of your neck.
Portkeys are magical objects that allow travel across extreme distances or to places that have been charmed against detection from entering or leaving. Portkeys may send unsuspecting people anywhere, and so they require Ministry authorisation to use and operate. Port-keys are usually disguised as ordinary rubbish so muggles are more likely to ignore them. They are set to activate either at a prearranged time, or as soon as the person comes in contact with it.
“Are you bloody sure this a good idea?” you protest impatiently with arms resting across your chest as bees buzz in the air, blades of grass itching the bare side of your lower thigh. You certainly weren’t keen on the idea of trusting such an important part of your weekend to the hands of the Slytherins who hate your guts since the start of your first year. The white haired disaster to blame for that.
“Do you want to see the semifinals or not?” Arabella huffs a bit grumpily due to the overwhelming intensity of the weather as she toys around with the adjustable strings of her backpack, which is hanging over her shoulders. Cool breeze hits your frames for a small fraction of a second, bringing relief.
“We could have used apparition,” you shrug your shoulder with the intention of blaming your friend for this obscene situation you found yourself to be in. Because your friend refused to use apparition regardless of the fact you had for license for it handful of months now (she was right though, it was dangerous to use it for such a distance). Given the fact it’s your dream to go to the World Cup, not even crossing paths with the boy who made your life a living hell and depending on him would stop you from going.
The Quidditch World Cup is held every four years since the 15th century. The competition has Quidditch teams representing themselves and their countries sprawled all around the world, fighting for the World Cup and the title of champions. It is simultaneously the most exhilarating sporting event and a logistical nightmare for the host nation, which happens to be your country after nearly fifty years of waiting. When it was announced, you begged all of your friends to attend with you. Sadly, the twins couldn’t afford such a luxury. You understood, the ticket was pricey. Whole 40 Galleons at its cheapest. You yourself had to save for months, skipping on your usual purchases. For your sake, Arabella promised to join you, leaving her to do such drastic changes in her shopping as well. However at the end of the day, it wasn’t only you she went for. Her girlfriend agreed to go along with her older brother who happens to be a part of the untouchables.
The poor girl is connected to both your ex boyfriend and the Slytherins, you thought.
“We’ll transport together and go our separate ways, it’s not a big deal,” she presses further, hoping you would drop the subject and take it as it will come. However, you’re not feeling like letting it to fizzle on its own.
“I don’t trust Gojo. He might as well leave us there,” at the sound of your scoff, Arabella tilts her body towards yours.
“But Margaret wouldn’t,” she lets the words out gently and it instantly fills you with guilt, causing your features to soften up. You were so preoccupied with the fact it’s Gojo out of all people, you didn’t realise Arabella’s girlfriend was going to make a difference. Their relationship was complicated and pointing out your worries didn’t do your friend any good.
Margaret came out of a pureblood household, her older brother mentioned earlier was sorted into Slytherin and is part of the group which includes the blue eyed menace. While she is a year younger than you and surprisingly got sorted into Gryffindor. One of a few in her lineage. Her views are not filled with poison and she is open, therefore, a romance could spark between her and the short strawberry blonde Ravenclaw. Though it has to be held a secret, disguised as mere friendship. The outlook of it was already bad if a pureblood of her rank befriended a muggle born witch (especially in the upcoming times). What would it be like if the truth bubbled up to the surface? Her family would perhaps forbid it, or worse. But you’re certain they wouldn’t let it slide.
“I know, I’m sorry,” you try apologising for doubting the intentions of her lover.
You couldn’t continue the interaction any further as a swirl of wind hurled into the space on top of the hill where you stood, bringing four figures along. The first voice you mapped out was the girlish voice of Margaret, her frame running into a prison formed by Arabella’s arms. She hugged her a little tighter. Something that goes unnoticed by those who don’t know, but not by you. You turned your gaze away from the two of them, the blinding sun making you narrow your eyes in order to catch a glimpse of the others. It’s the first time throughout the years you’re seeing Satoru Gojo outside of your shared school, more importantly in summer — the essence of your free time. The casualness scares you. And as you blink away the sun, the outlines of figures inch closer. When you can make out the their existence, you nod your head as a form of greeting rather than using your words, the three Slytherins chose to replicate the action. All of them draped with backpacks, hats and sweat. Margaret then walks over to you, hugging you in a similar way.
Seeing her reminds you of him, your ex boyfriend.
“I’ll crash in your tent, you won’t mind, Y/N, will you?” her sweet voice rings in your ears as she speaks while her hands cage you in a welcoming hug. You assumed she would since her brother and his company is overpoweringly manly, so you weren’t against it. As a matter of fact, you brought a bigger tent which would serve you over the weekend.
“You’re all good,” your hand pats her back in a comforting manner before you pull away.
She shoots you a grateful smile and proceeds to engage in conversation with Arabella, leaving you to listen to them from the sidelines. It doesn’t bother though, you know if it weren’t for this opportunity they wouldn’t see each other during the break as it was that way last summer. They wrote letters to one another, but writing is far from the magic of meeting in person. Your attention occasionally glides over to the intruders, who stand couple of feet away and watch you while they wait for the three of you to finish talking.
“Taking muggles, are we?” one of Gojo’s friends groans out and your ears perk up at the words, your blood pressure instantly rises. Sadly, all you three managed to make out the words. To Arabella it meant nothing. Sure, it still hurt, yet she was somehow used to the insults and willing to let it go. But you aren’t that open minded.
“Hey! I heard that,” you huff out for the sake of your friend and Arabella grabs your hand in the process and steps in front of you to prevent you from doing anything stupid. Your eyes fall onto the grip she has on your wrist . Then they bore into her orbs, which are filled up with pleading.
“I told you to behave, Robin,” another boy from the Slytherin house slides into the conversation and from his words you could already depict it was he, who was the older brother of your best friend’s girlfriend.
“Yeah, your dumb sister,” the initial guy whispers as he turns around to face the other way, utterly ignoring you and your attempt at putting him into his place. The blue eyed wizard next to him chuckles and without any further due begins to stroll towards you, the sight of you almost lyrical.
“Woah, couldn’t have been better,” you utter under your own breath with an eye-roll. Arabella squeezes your wrist before she lets it go, signalling and begging one more to remain calm. And when she steps out of your way, you’re once again facing the one and only, Gojo Satoru.
“Fuming, already?” he piques with his brows arching in playful curiosity, his other two friends closing up the distance as well. The burning sun, humid air and now this, was a dangerous combination for the sake of holding your temper back.
Yes, you were already fuming.
“You better keep your pretentious friends in check, Gojo,” your voice drops a tone so the words wouldn’t reach the said friends while burning a hole through the white haired prodigy with your sharp gaze. Unlike them, you are cautious about your intentions.
“Ah, you wound me,” he places his palm over his chest, long fingers sprawling across it as he pouts his lips in addition. To get even bigger rise out of you. Which he succeeds in, but you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of voicing it out loud.
“I mean it,” you said, firm and steady. No extra edge in the sound of your tone.
“Let’s gather into a circle and get this over with,” Satoru’s voice calls out a moment later, ending the conversation laced with your snarky banter. His two friends perk up at his words, finally closing up the distance fully.
Satoru pulls out the port-key, instructing you and Arabella on what to do. Or rather what to not do. You both silently listen. He then carefully places the port-key into the grass, crouching down to place a hand over it. His friends crouch down as well, gripping each other’s hands and reaching for their white haired friend. Arabella and Margaret falter down too, hands already intertwined and Margaret grabs her older brother. After that, it only comes down to you.
“You need to hold my hand for it work,” he holds out his hand to you from where he’s crouching and you hesitate. He waits for you to take it. They all wait for you to take it. All five pairs of eyes, however, only one boring into your soul with its depth.
“I don’t bite, come on,” you open your mouth to protest, but decide to close it. You huff out a low sound before you grab Arabella’s hand, squatting down in between her and the Slytherin’s menace. Then you finally take his hand in yours. The contact simple, yet soft. His skin smooth and untainted, a true hand of someone of his rank. He grips your smaller hand loosely, ensuring the teleportation goes without a hitch. The brush of his fingers leaves its mark.
In a blink of a crinkling eye you’re pulled into the port-key, the sensation of being teleported leaving your stomach in knots. The next moment you open your eyes you’re met with a vast quidditch field towering in the distance, busy chatter enveloping you. You watch in awe as other wizards brush past you, the atmosphere of the tournament fulfilling each fantasy you ever had about the World Cup and it hasn’t even started properly. As you scan your surrounding, you realise one small detail. Your hand is still lazily coaxed in his, which makes you instantly retrieve it to your side without sparing the boy any glance.
“Margaret, find some place near us, mkay’? Mom would kill me if anything were to happen to you,” the older brother of Arabella’s girlfriend says as we pick yourselves up from the ground, soothing out dust from your clothes.
“Yeah, I’ll stop by, don’t worry,” she answers with a simple nod of her head, urging her brother to finally take his leave. It was clear to you she couldn’t wait to be alone with her girlfriend. Her brother scanned all three of you without a word, turning on his heel and walking to the opposite direction. Robin, the guy who badmouthed Arabella, and Satoru following his lead.
You haven’t bothered to fetch a place for the tent. No, the three of you figured exploring the area and mostly the food stands would benefit you more. You checked out the menus of the street food businesses and the girls shyly admitted to not knowing the history of the tournament. So you started on with your rambling, explaining the truth behind the scenes as best as you could.
To be qualified for the world cup meant a lot of work. Each team played all of the other teams in their group over a two year period. During the group phase, there was always a timer of four hours on every game to avoid exhaustion of the players. On the occasion that the game ended after four hours of play and the Golden Snitch wasn't caught, the result was decided by the amount of goals scored. A win earned two points. In addition to these two points, a win by 150 points earned five points, by 100 points an extra three points and by 50 points an extra one point. If two teams were level on points, they were separated by whichever team captured the Snitch most often, or most quickly during their matches. The sixteen teams who finished top of the sixteen groups qualified for the World Cup. Throughout the tournament a team who won the most points played the team who earned the least, the team who earned the second most played the team who earned the second least, and so on. This theoretically allowed the two best teams from the qualifying phase to meet in the final. Making it all more exciting to watch. And you were clever enough to wait and pick tickets for the later games, tonight’s being the semifinal. Truthfully, Arabella and Margaret got lost somewhere in the bylines of your explaining, however, they remained focused.
You munched on chips dipped in ketchup while passing all sorts of shops, the backpacks heaving down onto your shoulders. You had to put your hair up by a clip, the heat stronger as it already hit past noon, which meant the sun was at its highest point. Due to that you all agreed finding a place to put up the tent and resting for a bit would be a wiser decision than to wander around.
The tent was easy to put together, one simple verbal spell and the job was done in a flash. You placed it few rows away from the Slytherins. Close enough for Margaret to be near her brother, far enough to ensure you a peace of mind. The tent looked tiny, but as you brushed past the flaps of entrance a humongous room spilled in front of you. Arabella voiced out her excitement through a little giggle, she then proceeded to share the fact she never even knew such tents existed. Clearly glad they did. Margaret was smiling from ear to ear as her girlfriend went on explaining how she missed out on so many things and how she can’t believe she lived without them. You both find it incredibly cute.
Originally, you were supposed to be seated at the highest lane in the very back in the stadium. However, your company ensured you better views and brought you to the VIP section. Mostly due to the charms of Margaret, who was quick to convince her brother to take both Arabella and you along, regardless of protests. From both you and the other Slytherin boys.
It was already past midnight when the mach ended and each step towards the tent felt like a knife to your worn out body.
“I feel bad for even asking, but could you maybe, go out for a bit? Margaret and I need to have a little chat. About us and well, to see if she’s embarrassed of being seen with me,” Arabella rubs the back of her neck nervously as she speaks, shy to maintain eye contact as you both stand in front of the entrance to the tent.
It was true Margaret acted a tad weirder than usual during the match.
“I was planning on taking a stroll around anyway,” you decide to ease her down with a small innocent lie. You are actually mad exhausted from the sprinkling heat and walking all day, nonetheless, you remain understanding of the situation and want to grant your friend a sense of privacy. She repeats the words “thank you” tons of times like a holy prayer, caressing your shoulder to show her gratitude.
“Arabella?” the sound of her name makes her head turn and stop her mid entering the tent.
“Yeah?” she whispers faintly as she looks over her shoulder.
“She would be a fool to be embarrassed by having someone like you,” the silky sound of your voice urges a twinkle of smile to form against her lips. She mouths one last “thank you” before she disappears into the tent. The sudden absence of her presence leaving you in the haze of a warm July night. Crickets crinkle in the background and you let out a heavy breath, wondering whatever to do.
After a small pause, your steps head somewhere in between the rows which separate the tents. You drag the walk out, slowly pacing back and forth through the made up streets of tents. The world is curled up in a blanket of stillness, the air still heavy and thick from the sunny day. You have no clue of what time it was, the passage unclear so you aren’t sure when to return. So you continue to wander, feet aching even in your most comfortable pair of shoes. Most of the stands around the place closed up already, some of them having yet to do so as the owners pack their stuff for the night.
You take one more lap around the area and then head back, unsure whenever they have finished talking, yet too tired to keep strolling around. When you reach your tent you place an ear against the fabric. Muffled voices of the two girls could be still heard as you stood at the entrance again. You don’t want to interrupt them so you sit down onto the damp grass. The stables tickle your legs as you hunch down your back out of soreness, head thrown back to look over the night sky. Leaving you to wonder if the stars look back down on you.
A sound of footsteps pulls you out of your trance, head twitching to the left. A figure walks down your way. A familiar one.
“Got kicked out?” he says when he approaches, you don’t bother to avert your gaze as you had already seen him coming from the corner of your eye. Even when he was meters away. You ponder whenever to answer. More like what to answer, your short-circulated brain unable to make up an act, which wouldn’t blow their cover.
“Look, I am not blind. I noticed,” it made you stop dead in any movement as he plainly hinted at the ongoing relationship between Arabella and the younger sister of his companion. Fear swallowed you.
You don’t answer.
“Can I sit?” the white haired wizard breathes out at last, close to being frustrated at your lack of responsiveness.
“Don’t have a choice, do I?” a snicker escapes your mouth, not attacking nor inviting him.
“Nope,” the p rolls on his tongue before he chuckles and takes a seat next to you on the ground, leaving fair amount of space between you.
“I won’t tell anyone,” he once more hints at their relationship and you don’t answer this time either.
“A constellation. Which one is that, do you know? I don’t think I’ve seen it before,” he asks as he points his finger towards the night sky, eager to make you speak. Your eyes travel in the direction of his fingers, meanwhile curiosity overflows his senses and you easily pick up on the untainted emotion. He’s different to what he normally sounds like.
“It’s called Lyra, and it can only be seen now, around midnight at the start of summer,” you share the information on the collection of stars. The one you are the most fond of ever since the professor introduced it in the advanced lessons of astronomy. Beatrice and you were thriving off the story the moment you came to acknowledge it.
To be fair, you don’t know why you are sharing it.
Out of feeling bad, you guess.
“Lyra? It sounds vaguely familiar,” the young man replies with fascination. His eyes edge the sky, not looking away still as if utterly mesmerised by the sight. Your gaze lingers too, though not on the stars. The side of his face shines, his porcelain skin reflecting the moonlight.
“It’s connected to the greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice,” the sound of your voice brings his gaze back down to you and you manage to avert yours just in time for him to miss it. And if he didn’t miss it, he decided to go on without giving you a hard time about it. His eyes swirling with intrigue.
“Do tell,” two simple yet powerful words.
“Apollo, the greek God of sun, granted Orpheus a lyre which tunes were so beautiful no enemies nor beasts could resist, and taught him how to play. Later on, he fell in love with a woman named Eurydice and married her. She was a woman of grace and beauty. However, their marriage was prophesied to not last by the Gods. Soon after the prophecy was spoken, Eurydice died. Some stories tell she was bitten by a snake, some that she drowned. It’s unclear,” you flickered your eyes away from him before your lips opened to spill the words pinching your tongue. You chose to stay focused on the story rather than on the warmth building within your body as the white haired wizard truly seemed to be paying attention.
“I’m listening,” his voice is low, head nodding as he wishes for you to continue. This was also most possibly the longest time you two spoke without being at each other’s throats and he wonders what else lies in that thick skull of yours. What else he has no idea of.
“Orpheus portrayed his grief with the tunes of his lyre. The strength of it so strong it moved things in the world. Both humans and Gods learnt about his sorrows. At some point, Orpheus descended towards Hades — the God of the underworld. The God was moved to compassion by the lyre and told the musician he could return to the living world with his wife, under one condition: she would have to follow behind him while walking out from the caves of the underworld, and he could not turn to look at her as they walked. He thought it to be an easy task since he was a man of patience. He thanked Hades with delight and left to ascend back into the living world. Unable to hear Eurydice's footsteps, however, he began to fear the Gods had fooled him. Only a few feet away from the exit, Orpheus couldn’t resist and turned to see his beloved Eurydice behind him. The act immediately sending her back to be trapped in Hades's reign forever,” the sound of your voice dies down, the story picking up its end.
“So he turned around because he had loved her so much he couldn’t resist?” Satoru declares unsurely while you almost cannot hide your shock at how easily he assumes the reason behind the act, most would remain unaware or uninterested.
“Yes. They are star crossed lovers, doomed from the start. Hades himself would have failed the test, you simply cannot cheat death,” the edge of your tone gathers passion as you speak about what ignites a spark within you.
“He killed himself to be reunited with her in the underworld after. The constellation formed, because a God casted his lyre into the sky,” you go on, telling him how the heroic musician’s fate faded into a sloppy calamity at last.
“How tragic,” the dazzling boy mumbles underneath his nose and he smiles a little then at the thought of the story, a smile unlike any other he had given you. Disposed of any irony. The sight nearly illicit to drink in. It made you rethink everything, perhaps he wasn’t as bad as he painted himself to be. Just maybe. And you were willing to let the small acknowledged slip if it contained the small meaningless word maybe.
“I must say I wasn’t a fan of summer till recently, but the story is nice,” he announces as he leans his hand into his palm, elbow resting against his thighs. The sound of his delicate breathing hear-able in the dead of the night.
“What made you change your mind?” the question slips into the space out of politeness.
“Nothing in particular,” you look at him, only to find him already looking at you. A memory of seeing you last summer springs his mind. This moment serving as a mirror to it. Panic sweeps over you, making your gaze flicker away.
“Do you?” he questions in addition to your small talk.
“Yeah, of course. Not my favourite, but sure,” you answer nonchalantly while a wave of something unknown washes over you and then you bring your knees to your chest. Hugging them with your arms. Head falling down onto them.
“I heard your father has gotten seriously ill, by the way. I am sorry about that,” his words make you irk. It’s as if the sentence buries the unusual emotions you had just caught a glimpse of back beneath the surface. Into the unexplored depths.
Your parents returned from overseas in January, spending something over a month there. The treatment they used worked like a miracle, feeding your father with doses of life and you were over the moon to find out the life threatening sickness was retrieving. Only for it fall like a house of cards. It started out with symptoms showing up again, the same ones he firstly proceeded to ignore before he was diagnosed. It’s getting bad and they’re already scheduling another process of treatment. And most people knew. Of corse they did. Your mother had to make it public in order for her to keep her job, without it she wouldn’t be able to fly over to another continent. Without reasonable camouflage she would lose her spot at the ministry.
“Are you truly?” you scoff in disbelief, shaking your head lightly as you look down on the ground. Bitterness spikes your system, you bite down the urge to burst into your tent. To hide from him and the world.
“Yes, I am not a monster,” his voice declares, layered with customary coldness.
“But you do agree with your family’s views, don’t you?” you laugh out quietly and sarcastically, gathering yourself to stand up from where you’ve been sitting till now.
He quiets down, piercing eyes looking up at you from the low angle. And for a split moment it seems he is hesitant about his answer, eyes flashing with a flee of — and it’s gone. Like he flipped a switch.
It amuses you in all the wrong ways.
“I do,” he states sharply and gets up on his feet as well, towering above you with face set neutrally as if to corner you. You wouldn’t let him. What were you thinking he might be different? He is the pretentious douchebag you had him for. The one who’s been fed nonsense before he could even walk. It was certain, he would surely take after his parents, there was no need to question him. Yet that flicker of something in his-
No.
No.
“Then don’t pity me,” you empathise the word pity as you bravely stare back at him, the peaceful fondness of the conversation forgotten and left in past of the moment.
“I wasn’t. Isn’t it polite to give condolences?” you can’t stand how clever he makes himself sound, rubbing it smugly in your face like salt into a wound. He cunningly ticks his head. Witty charm reappearing.
“Not when you don’t mean them,” you mumble with a shaken voice, the crack in your words would be evident to anyone. He opens his mouth to respond, his shallow ego faltering, but he is not given the chance to speak back.
“Goodnight,”
And with that you brush past him to enter your tent, zipping it up. Thankfully, by the time you do enter, Arabella has finished talking with her secret lover. Margaret had actually fell asleep in her lap during the time spent sitting outside. Her head is cradled into Arabella’s lap, which causes you to grow cautious with your steps, tiptoeing quietly towards your bed after changing into a comfortable set of pyjamas. Your friend who is on the verge of falling asleep herself asks you what went on outside. She heard the conversation between you and the Slytherin distinctively. But you truly don’t feel like talking. So instead of that you wish her a good night of sleep as well, promising to share what’s happened tomorrow morning.
Despite your past exhaustion, falling asleep takes time as your thoughts spiral somewhere you would prefer to avoid.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ✼
The sun lowered itself down past the horizon, soft pastel spurts of orange, yellow and pink enchanting the sky. Sky clear of clouds, casting a ray of last bits of sunshine before the star would bid its goodbyes. Leaving for the night to take over. The match of the day was already over, not lasting the same amount of time as the night before since one of teams caught a Snitch. You’re leaving tomorrow morning, but it didn’t bother you, the time was well spent anyway.
And now you are lined up in a queue for pretzels, taking one for the team and ordering for everyone. Including the Slytherin boys. Your way of saying thank you for bringing you along with them to the VIP section.
You locate the larger ground chatting in front of the boys tent an eternity later (or at least if felt like an eternity standing in the queue) and give each one of them their pretzel, praying you mesmerised their orders right. They handed you money in return for the food and thanked you.
“Try mine!” you squal out laughing and hand Arabella your pretzel dipped in cheddar cheese. She takes it to take a bite and right away groans in pleasure at the taste. Approving your choice.
“Your sister sure knows how to pick friends,” Robin mumbles to his peers bitterly, the sight of you three happily together not resonating right with him. He hated seeing his friend’s sister tagging along with a muggle and a half blood who is so open.
Though he isn’t met with a reply, because Satoru is busy recalling the events of last night where he unsurprisingly once again caused harm with his actions. He meant to give you his sympathies, show empathy, however it came out wrong. His sights are resting on you and the way your head throws back in laughter. The sunrise throws a hue of colours against your cheeks. Making you glow.
And Margaret’s brother is too focused on enjoying his pretzel.
“I’ll be right back,” Satoru announces to his two friends whose sights are sewn into you three.
They hum. He’s gone. Lost in the crowd.
You finish your pretzels and throw the remains into the bin. All three of you then decide to take a walk through the stands once more time, just like yesterday. To look at trinkets and gifts you could bring home. Jackets of the teams, pins, broaches, hats, photographs. It’s all there. You purchase pins of your father’s and yours favourite team.
The world somewhere in between night and day.
And as you pay, the clouds start to form on the ivory sky. One moment it was clear and another it began to darken. You furrow your brows as the situation only escalates. The stratosphere dipping into darkness, when it was still alluring seconds ago.
The constellation of Lyra peaking from above one last time before it’s consumed by the hurling clouds.
“Margaret, go pick your things up. You two as well. We’re leaving,” Margaret’s brother orders you around and neither of you dares to have any objections. Well, there’s no time really as Margaret is already dragging you away.
Millions of questions pop in your head.
The three of you walk up to your tent, steps hurried and impatient and suddenly — a scream pierces through the air and the world goes temporarily quiet.
The silence bursts into pure horror and hysteria. People begin to yell over one another. Push past each other to get to safety and you wonder why, why, why. Why is this happening?
Do the Slytherins know?
Did they know it was gonna happen?
Another scream cracks into the open and you take notice of remains of a spell flying around in the distance.
“Do you need help?” Arabella panics as her and Margaret secure their backpacks onto their bags, bringing yours out of the tent as well.
“No, let’s go,” you urge them before you speak the bounded spell, the tent slouching down into a squared shape. You pick it into your arms, pressing it against your chest, and throw your bag over your shoulder. The intensity of terror around you spikes.
The three of you run. As fast as the crowd of bodies pushing against one another allows you to. Even though you don’t know what you’re running from. Another tormented screams pierces through the air and it makes you freeze in the spot. Wizards around you are nudging your shoulders, throwing you around while they bolt. You prop your head back and your watery eyes glimpse at the sky in the middle of dawn. The sight of smoke taking the shape of evil on it as if it were a canvas dethrones you utterly.
Incandescent green glow aligns the symbol of the wicked.
Death Eaters.
It hits you, this is truly happening and you’re in the eye of the storm. And another wave crashes over you through the passing moment, you had lost your friends in the crowd. You press the tent formed into a shape tighter against your chest, heart thundering in your body as ringing roars in your earbuds. You slump together a ball of courage to shove away others, slipping into an alley of tents out of the main route, where not as many people are rushing. You do your best and try to ease down the nauseous pit in your stomach. And your legs burn agonisingly, however, you’re not willing to give up.
Orientation in such a panicked state is hard thing to do, but you are successful of mapping the place after few turns and spins. One second you’re back on track running and another you’re shoved to the ground. You hiss in pain and get up anyway. Your knees and palms are muddy, a slight cut is painted over your palms. You mould it into a fist, which causes blood to spill.
You arrive back to where the boy’s tent should’ve been, instead there’s an empty space now. You look around in panic, trying to see anyone you would recognise. But it’s in vain.
They left.
They left
They left.
Fright seizes you, makes you utterly motionless as your gaze flickers between the rushing people. Your heart pounds against your ribs like a caged animal, every beat rattling through your chest. A cold sweat slicks your palms, making them clammy, useless. Your breathing is shallow. Too fast. Too uneven. Your stomach clenches and nausea creeps up the walls of your throat. You try to steady your hands, to make a valiant effort to think of a way to get out, but you’re met with betrayal of your body. And even though nobody can hear the deafening roar of panic flooding your head, drowning out all logic, all reason: it’s all reflected in your expression — body screaming for you to run, to escape, but there is nowhere to go.
Until one face turns into your direction. Your eyes widen in disbelief and this one look skyrockets your adrenaline, causing you to flee. To your dismay, the figure follows. A figure wearing a black hood and a mask with snake-like eye slits, covering the person’s identity. You race through the lanes, heart thumping so loud you can barely hear anything besides it. You don’t have the courage to look behind you, however, the sounds of footsteps closing in on you are unmistakable. You reach for your wand tugged away in the waist line of your shorts. You shouldn’t. You’re not allowed. Nevertheless, your safety is currently of importance. You’ll deal with the Ministry later.
“Protego,” you whisper out of breath and the wand in your grip fizzles out sparks of magic, casting a spell to protect you from any incoming attacks. And it seems it was right on time as the shield bounces off a curse thrown your way. It wouldn’t grant death, nonetheless, it would’ve been very painful.
You take turns in between the alleys, letting yourself fade into the crowd to shake off the masked evil tracing you. Roaring screams echoes again and overwhelming guilt suffocates you. You were the one to lead the evil into the sum of bodies.
“Fuck, L/N, here!” Margaret’s older brother calls out and immense gratitude washes over you. They’re still here. As soon as your eyes register where it came from, you feel like crying in bliss.
You’re too stunned as you reach them and before you can say or do anything, Margaret pulls you by your wrist into the port-key. The teleportation sets at the touch and sends you instantly to the hill where it all started. To safety.
“Merlin’s beard!”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,”
“I’m okay,”
Rushed whispers of reassurance pass between all of you. A brief worry for each other is spread through all of you, regardless of your unfriendly past.
“We gotta head back for Satoru,” Robin wheezes out and the sudden calmness of your surroundings startles you. Only then, when he speaks the words out loud and clear, you notice you’re indeed missing one member.
Right, you saw him leave earlier and head for the food stands.
“Don’t be crazy. We’re not going back there,” Margaret’s older brother declares and grabs his sister’s shoulder to shove her behind me in protectiveness.
“Knowing him, he’s already somewhere safe,” he adds and his eyes beam with something simple, only what they can decipher. A moment of understanding passes between. Robin nods and lets the whole situation go.
“Why didn’t you find him?” you make a lazy effort to understand what went on while you were separated.
“You think we didn’t look everywhere?” he spits fiercely. So much that it urges you to take a step back.
You have so many things you want to ask, but so little energy.
“Enough,” Margaret’s brother hisses “we’re going to check his family mansion,” he then places a hand over Robin’s chest to push him away from you and Arabella.
“Okay, be careful,” Arabella manages to mumble out in spite of the panic and rush, the meaning behind mostly served for Margaret.
You don’t say anything. And with that, they’re gone and you finally feel like breathing again. Your head spins and you truly feel like throwing up. You collide with the ground, knees hurting from the impact. Mild breeze caresses your side and you lie down into the grass to catch your breath. Arabella doesn’t interrupt the silence and lies down beside you, dropping her backpack first.
The cool grass cradles your body as it sinks into the earth, limbs heavy with exhaustion. The scent of summer—warm soil, dried greenery, the lingering trace of something sweet in the air fills your lungs. It does little to steady your racing heart. The echoes of what just happened still grip your mind, flashing behind your closed eyes like a movie you’ve just seen. Your fingers curl into the grass, grasping at something real, something solid, as if the earth itself might anchor you. The warm night air hums with the sound of distant cicadas, the world continues as if nothing has changed — though for the two of you, everything has.
Your breathings slow down. Not because the pain has lessened, but because there is nothing left to do but exist beneath the vastness of the sky, small and fragile and utterly human.
The sound of ruffling leaves and bending of grass crunches in the distance. Your friend sits up instantly out of fear. While you can’t be bothered as you’re somehow still processing the events.
“Gojo? Gojo!” Arabella huffs in disbelief and then squawks out as she realises it is truly him. She’s back on her feet, running towards the trees where he is. You tear your gaze away from the sky. His hand is cupping his shoulder. He’s hurt. You too sit up, but your reflexes aren’t as sharp as your friend’s after what you’ve been through so you remain in place.
“I panicked and this was the first place I thought of,” you hear his voice, the rest of their conversation unregistered. You curse under your breath, fingers gripping the stables of the grass and ripping them out before you do the same as Arabella.
“Where the hell were you?” your voice interrupts their conversation sharply and Arabella doesn’t protest, only watches. His head cocks towards you and your eyes slide down to his shoulder where the fabric of his shirt is slightly torn.
“Scared ya?” even at this moment he finds the strength to sound as cocky as ever.
You weren’t worried, although maybe a little, but you thought his actions to be misleading.
Strange.
“No, idiot, it’s suspicious,”
“And how did you manage to get splinched anyway, mister good at everything?” you ask instead of pressing further for answers.
“Wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind as they chased me,” this time his voice sounds more sincere and it’s clear he’s in pain, trying to mask it by his cockiness.
“I have herbs at home. I will bring them, hold on,” Arabella suddenly beams, shooting you both a worried look. Moment later she’s running down the hill through the meadows of tall grass and flowers.
“Herbs?” he echoes.
“She’s the best in herbology, you got nothing to worry about,” you say, not to reassure him down but to remind him.
“I know. She lives around here?” he huffs out, his breathing a little rough.
“Down the hill, behind the trees, yeah,” you look over your shoulder and point to where her house should be.
“Lucky me,” Satoru breathes out in relief and leans against one of the trees for support, his back sliding down.
Silence then hangs in the air as the two of you are alone in the dead of night, both still bewildered from the ruined tournament.
“Seriously, where were you?” you press again, voice smoother and less attacking. Still demanding.
“Picking up drinks,” he shrugs with ease and you can tell he’s not telling you the entire truth.
All sorts of scenarios bubble up.
You don’t pressure him, assuming he wouldn’t tell you anything anyway. You’re not friends after all. And he’s not your responsibility. However, the gnawing distress eats at you from the inside.
“Let me have a look at the splinch,” your body squats down next to him, eyeing his bloody shirt.
“Tenting to my wounds? How heroic of you,” he chuckles smugly with eyes baffled.
“Stop playing,” you flicker his shoulder and he winces in pain as a response.
“Ah, okay, okay. No need to get so aggressive,” voice filled with mockery and fake defensiveness. A pout decorates his lips, nonetheless, you can tell it’s all a facade right now.
Your fingers roll the fabric of his sleeve and he sucks in his breath, keeping quiet. The degree of the splinch didn’t seem to be a life threatening injury. His skin was torn open — no flesh nor muscles missing. Your eyes look up from his shoulders to see his expression, but to your dismay his eyes were fluttered shut so you couldn’t read it.
The wound was unusual. It was no splinching incident. Something else must have happened.
“You’ll live,” you tell him the outcome you’ve come to, pushing away the need for answers.
This isn’t yours to solve, you repeat to yourself.
You’re saved from the uncomfortable silence fizzling in the atmosphere by the return of Arabella who managed to seize the herbs from her room. You leave the job to her since she knows what’s she’s doing the best.
Essence of Dittany. The magical solution to his wound made from dried and crushed dittany leaves and salt water, which posses powerful properties that can be used on open shallow wounds for immediate healing and skin regeneration. You patiently watch your friend work her magic as his porcelain skin begins to bound together, leaving the spot flawless. Looking fresher than before.
From the look on her face you knew that she noticed it was no splinch wound either.
“Y/N,” the sound of your name jolts you back to reality.
You turn your head to the directions from where it came from.
“Mom, how did you-“ you fly to your feet, straightening yourself in an instant. You freeze as her hand lifts, gesturing for you to stop.
Silently telling you to leave it for later.
“You casted a spell, remember? You’re incredibly lucky I came across it before anyone else did,” she speaks slowly and gently, though her behaviour indicating that she is displeased with this whole situation. You open your mouth to defend yourself, but it’s no use, so you close it. You grip the denim fabric of your shorts, telling yourself to keep quiet. You know how vast the punishments for underage wizards were, sometimes so cruel as to expel you from Hogwarts if the circumstances were serious. Which a mere spell of deference such as the one you used wasn’t. Anyway, it could still land you trouble.
And the fact Satoru Gojo, out of all people heard — made you want to vanish from the surface.
He is already eighteen, free to cast spells.
While you aren’t.
And he’s free to report you.
“Get up, boy. I will get you home. Your mother must be worried sick,” her motions are robot like, cold yet polite as she makes the offer. Her gaze fleets towards the only son of the Gojo family. And for the first time you see your mother acting like the true Head Auror of The Department of Magical Law Enforcement she is and not like a parental figure. You saw her at work thousands of times, yet never before like this.
“Thank you, Ma’m,” the young white haired wizard blinks at her before managing an answer. He clumsily collects himself, his arm healed yet still lacking its usual flexibility.
“You two go back to Arabella’s place. Be ready in fifteen minutes,” your mother calls out to you and Arabella as she turns around to face you, wand in her hand. She reaches for Satoru.
“Please, let me explain,” you plea
You’re met with a firm answer: “In fifteen minutes. Go. Now,”
“Bye,” Satoru mumbles awkwardly. His eyes flying over to your friend and then to you, lingering unnecessarily a moment longer before he disappears with your mother. Out of your sights.
Dehumanising sense washes over you. This isn’t how your summer was supposed to start off. It was meant to be sweet.
You turn to look at Arabella who’s staring out into the open, plains of fields which are barely visible as they are tucked away beneath the darkness of the night sprawled ahead. Your voice breaks into the open to encourage her to move, to leave the terror’s of the night behind.
The walk to her house is alien like.
“The spell was a self defence, your mom will surely understand,” she speaks as you head down the hill, muscles of your legs burning from all the sprinting earlier.
“I am not worried about that,” you beam, heading down.
“What do you mean?”
“You saw the wound,”
Arabella hitched lightly at your words.
“I did,” she agrees “you don’t think he-?”
“I’m not sure about anything anymore,” you confess in defeat.
A vivid memory of your conversation with him in front of the tent replays and it bugs you.
I do.
He does.
He does share their views, but surely, he wouldn’t do anything stupid.
Right?
“It’s not any good. They are pressing down onto mom and if anyone finds out what she did for me then- then-“ you break out, however, tears don’t come. Perhaps you’re utterly spent, who knows, but nothing comes out.
“We didn’t do anything wrong,” a hand lands on your lower back in a gentle manner, seeking to soothe down your nerves.
“It’s gonna be okay, you’ll see,”
But you’re not so sure about it. Couple of hours maybe, not now.
You stop in front of Arabella’s house and it bittersweetly makes you recall all those times you spent at her house. Endless summer days filled with youth and deprived of any worries. The silly routine you two had leaves a sense of longing in your chest.
“Please. Don’t mention anything to my parents. They were already anxious enough to even let me go and if they figured what happened, it would only worry them,” her voice is low, the lights in her parent’s house out. They must be sleeping.
“Write me, will you?” you pull her into your arms and whisper small promises into her ear. Both about keeping quiet and reaching out. You held her for a moment longer, unsure of everything.
“Take care, Ara,” you rub her shoulder and bid your goodbyes.
And it isn’t long till your mother arrives, empty handed now.
“What were you thinking, trusting that boy?” she starts the second she appears and the words. They sting. You can’t comprehend how she’s able to ask such a thing when the history between you and the pure-blood of the Gojo family is known. And not for its fondness.
“He had a registered port-key and we needed to get to the tournament. That’s all. I never trusted him and I won’t. We were separated and kept to ourselves. When the attack happened, Gojo was missing and he stumbled here,” you explain.
“What if he had been there? Do you think they would have waited for you?”
“Mom, we’re not on good terms, but I am sure they-“
“You shall not be close to that boy again. I do not wish it,” her tone is light as she can’t bear to stay mad at you. Not now, at least. She had been worried sick the second the news of the attack reached her and when she saw your name in the register of the casted spell, she thought of the worst possibilities.
“You don’t need to say that twice,” you slum your shoulders. Your mother drops the act, steps closer to wrap you into her arms and whispers how glad she is you’re okay. Her familiar scent reaches your senses and then you’re hugging her back.
“Let’s go home. Your father is probably going crazy,” she mumbles into the shell of your ear before pulling away.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈┈┈•• ✼
29 notes · View notes