#and for most of the last four years was standing straight up so like. wasn't super visible

[tj-crochets]

Pros and cons of my hair getting longer Pros: - it's starting to get long enough to form actual ringlets so I look more like my mom and my sister - it curls sort of over and around my ears to keep them nice and warm while it's cold without curling into my ears the way it did when it was shorter - I really like how much more visible my few white hairs are with the pattern of the curls, the rest of my hair is so dark it feels like I have sparkles in my hair Cons: - it's now the exact right length for my hair in the front to curl out, around, and under the arms of my glasses up into my eyes

[wordsarelife]

—mine

pairing: theo nott x fem!reader

summary: your’s and theo's relationship throughout the years

warnings: canon typical violence near the end, mentions of the war, blood and death

note: feel free to request stuff for the christmas calender!!

theo was startled by a sudden voice who called out his name, he turned around, the book he was about to push into the empty space still in his hand. 

"nott" you had muttered, arms crossed and the surprised expression on his face when he turned around had almost made you lose it. you quirked a brow at the missing reaction. "i guess you don't even know my name?" 

"sorry" theo winced and you could see how umcomfortable he was simply because he knew nothing about the person standing in front of him. 

"don't feel too bad" you shrugged. "didn't know yours until you borrowed my favorite book for four weeks and i had to beg madam pince to tell me the name of the person who had it" 

"well, sorry again" theo held the book in your direction. "you can have it now, if you still want it" 

you completely ignored the book, until theo sighed and put it back in the empty space on the shelf where it belonged. "guess not" he muttered to himself. 

"so, tell me, theodore nott" you followed him back to the table with his things. "what tempts a guy like you to borrow a book like that?" 

"well, without meaning to insult you, i'd say it is more male literature than female isn't it?"

"you're a moron if you really think something like female or male literature exists" you sat down in the chair across from him. "i wouldn't declare sherlock holmes as male literature, more preciously i would say that most boys are too daft to even understand half the things arthur conan doyle mentions and to your information i'm taking great insult to whatever the hell you just said"

"geez" theo's eyes had widened, he found you a bit odd, annoying even, but he couldn't help but feel all the same intrigued. "like what you just said isn't an insult. most boys are too daft, huh?" 

"maybe daft is a bit too harsh, i admit that" you rolled your eyes, a smile on your lips, "but i'd say most are too impatient to read those books, yes"

"well, you're not wrong about that" theo nodded "i can't remember the last time one of my friends touched a book that wasn't part of a class" 

"that's quiet sad, i'd say"

"i agree" theo smiled. "so, now that we're on the same page, do you mind telling me your name? i feel like i deserve to know it"

"no" you grinned just as the smile vanished from his face. "i decide when you deserve to know, theodore nott" you left him sitting there, speechless about the sudden rejection. 

you never actually told theo your name. he only found out when you managed to borrow the memoirs of sherlock holmes for two months straight. 

the next time that the two of you talked was a few months later, at the beginning of december. snow had fallen and the hogwarts grounds had turned into a beautiful white landscape. 

the snow was poudry, but you managed not to slip as you made your way through it. your body tightly wrapped in layers of clothing, the thick ravenclaw scarf almost reaching up to your eyes as the falling snow hit your face. 

"not the right weather for a stroll, is it?" theodore nott had caught up to you, not exactly spotting the right outfit for the wuthering cold. 

"well, i know there's a reason you're a slytherin and not a ravenclaw, but i would've expected you to be just a little smarter, nott" 

theo looked down on his clothes just as you did. "i was actually just going for a smoke"

"in the middle of a mild snowstorm?" you quirked a brow. "i'd say it's not the right weather to be doing that either"

"you're a real know-it-all" 

"tell me something new, nott" you rolled your eyes "it's exhausting to always be right, you know?"

"i bet it is" theo shrugged sarcastically. "there had to have been a reason you got sorted into ravenclaw"

"well, as said before, i can see why you weren't" you shrugged with a grin. 

theo sighed. "another dig at the outfit, really?" 

"well, considering you're standing here discussing with me and getting yourself wet, i'd say i'm allowed to keep judging your outfit" 

"fair point" theo nodded and you were surprised he gave up so easily. "are you coming or what?" he asked, ready to walk back inside.

"no" you shook your head "you go ahead though, wouldn't want you catching a cold, who would faint during potions then and entertain the rest of the class?"

"hey, that was one time" he called, as you walked away "how did you even hear about that, we're not in the same potions class?"

you just shrugged and send him a smile over your shoulder. he was standing in front of the doors to the castle, soaked from head to toe and you had to admit, theodore nott was a (beautiful) sight for sore eyes. 

it wasn't like you minded theo's company, but you noticed how he started hanging around the places you frequently visited during the weeks to come. 

theo had it especially easy when he realized that you stuck to your routines during the week, making it impossible for him to miss you once he had figured it out. 

monday and wednesdays after class were spent in the library, doing homework or reading a book from your list. tuesdays you helped madam pomfrey in the infirmary, healing minor injuries or filling up medicine cabinets. thursdays were reserved for your friends, playing card games or just spending time together in the common room, you always found something to do. 

fridays were flexible and you often decided what to do spontaneously. sometimes you did a little tutoring, on other fridays you helped madam pince sort through books and put them back where they belonged or you continued reading the book you had begun reading that week. saturdays and sundays were for remaining homework, hogsmeade visits and drafting letters to send back to your family on the start of the next week. 

"you're not being slick, you know that?"

it was a friday and you were putting away books, when theo kept lingering around you, like he had done that past week. 

"what?" he asked, looking up from the book in front of him, a confused tone to his voice, clearly trying to mask that he knew exactly what you were talking about.

"well, i was sure you knew stalking was considered a legal offence" you noted.

"stalking?" he repeated. "i'm not stalking you"

"now, you're not not stalking me, are you?" you send a tight-lipped smile in his direction. "i do admit that it might be a question of definition, though" 

"aren't you a bit full of yourself if you think i would be stalking you"

"that was offensive" you rolled your eyes "and i'm pretty sure i'm not imaging you turning up everywhere i went this past week. and considering i didn't know you until a few months ago, i'd say that you only started doing that recently"

"well, i didn't"

"okay, you didn't" your shrugged and turned back to the shelf, reaching for another row of books from the trolley beside you, before you pushed them in a row one after the other. 

theo furrowed his brows, surprised by you just letting him get away like that. he knew he wasn't being slick, hell, he even knew that he was behaving like a stalker. you weren't wrong in the slightest and theo felt a bit called out by your words. but on the other hand, you hadn't said anything about being opposed to the idea that he really did go everywhere you did.

you waved at him, before you pushed the trolley into the next row of shelves. it didn't take long for him to follow, already making a decision in his mind. 

"go out with me" 

if he had startled you, you didn't show it. you didn't even blink at his suggestion, rather ignoring him like he was a fly on the wall, as you continued reaching for books on the trolley.

theo pushed the trolley to the side and stepped into the empty space. the next time you tried to reach for a stack of books, you touched his chest instead. 

"you're still here, nott" you noted the obvious. 

theo had to admit that he was a tad bit unsettled by your ignorance. he wasn't sure if you really hadn't heard him or if you just ignored the question, because he had made you uncomfortable. 

"you know, normally stalkers don't look so scared" you smiled mischievously. 

"i'm not stalking you, but i can understand if my company made you uncomfortable and i apologize if i have gone too far"

"you're a bit weird, you know that?"

"this is a serious topic, y/n" 

you smiled at the honesty in his voice and sighed. "do you really think if you were making me uncomfortable or i was scared of you i would continue to speak to you?" 

"well, no—"

"i'm not a child, theodore nott, i can voice when i'm annoyed, but i respect your manners" you smiled "and if anyone follows me around like a lost puppy, i'm glad it's someone with at least a little intellect"

"little intellect?" theo repeated offended. 

"you might be smarter than i thought, but you're really bad at this" 

"i know" 

"well, would you now let me sort in the rest of these books? you're kind of in the way"

theo, nodded, the disappointment flashing over his features just like a wave of water. "i guess that's a no" 

you waited until he had stepped aside and pushed the trolley back in it's original position. your hands reached for the row of sherlock holmes books and you held them up at him like a trophy. "that means yes, obviously" 

theo spent exactly three days brainstroming what to do for your date. his friends tried their best at helping him, more than interested to finally hear something about the mysterious girl theo had been infuriated with these past weeks. 

"is she that hideous?" blaise asked on the third day of theo's hard thinking.

"what?" theo raised his brows, he had been too deep in thought to even hear his friend.

"blaise just asked if your girlfriend was hideous, i'd hit him if i were you" mattheo shrugged, stiring the pot. it had been a particular slow morning and he had to admit that it would be quiet entertaining to see blaise and theo fight each other. 

"five galleons on blaise" enzo added, before theo was able to say something. 

"have a little faith in him" pansy said next to theo. "he might not look like it, but the boy has a wicked right hook"

"this is just embarrassing" draco threw the newspaper down in front of him. 

"what?" pansy giggled "the newspaper or that theo and blaise are going to slap each other even more stupid"

"take a guess"

"guys" theo sighed, annoyance already taking over the worry that was bubbling inside him. "i'm not going to fight blaise and y/n is not my girlfriend"

"no yet" enzo wiggled his brows.

"y/n, huh?" mattheo said with a mischievous smile.

"oh god" all colour drained from theo's face. "please tell me the two of you didn't hook up with each other"

"close to it" mattheo shrugged. "she tended to my wounds in the infirmary once and i could tell she had the hots for me"

"wasn't she the one who said you had the charm of a troll and the brains to match?" blaise offered with a smirk.

enzo's mouth almost hit the table infront of him by how fast it flew open. "that was y/n?" he giggled.

theo had to smile. "that does sound like something she'd say"

"she sounds lovely" draco nodded sarcastically "but at least she never saw mattheo naked. that does make her at least a little likable"

"i already love her" pansy quickly said, before draco could continue his judging. "seems like she knows how to handle little annoyances" 

"i'm not a little annoyance"

"yeah" theo nodded "you're a quite big one, actually" 

theo couldn't tell what had led him to the idea for your date, but he had known in that moment what the both of you should do. 

"so hot chocolate was your huge idea?" you smiled as you sat down in the booth across from him, the server already putting down two mugs with steaming hot drinks in front of you. 

"i saw how your friends gave you their hot chocolate packages after dinner and figured this might be something you liked" he shrugged "and before you call me a stalker again, i'm just very attentive to those around me"

you giggled as the grandma at the table next to you send you a worried glance at theo's words.

"he's harmless" you laughed in a way to assure her. 

theo managed an awkward wave and the woman turned away quickly.

"well, it seems those around you are very attentive too" you giggled. 

"i'm sorry" theo tried to hide behind his mug, feeling a tad bit ashamed at the awkward encounter, but having to laugh at the same time. 

"don't be" you smiled honestly "rather tell me something i didn't already find out by snooping around"

"you snooped around?" theo exclaimed surprised. 

"i had to get even, after you found out everything about me" you shrugged "i met this lovely boy, i think he goes by the name enzo, who told me a whole lot about you"

"oh god, no" 

"quite interesting to hear about all those things from someone who has no interest in sleeping with me"

"what? i don't—“

"so you don't intend to sleep with me?" you smiled. "don't be ridiculous, theodore nott"

"i'm just not used to being this straightforward, admittedly"

you completely ignored the surprise swinging in his voice and went on with your story. "enzo did give me some exciting information and i wanted to talk about one thing in particular"

theo was ready to close his eyes and open them back up after you had screamed and left him sitting alone at the table. he had to admit that he wasn't particularly proud of his dating history (or lack of) before he met you and he was sure you weren't happy about that either. 

"before you say something" he interrupted you, before you were able to let the words slip past your lips. "i'm not like that anymore, i was young and not interested in a relationship and just wanted a bit of fun—"

"what are you talking about exactly?" you asked, a susprised smile on your face. 

"that wasn't what you wanted to talk about, was it?" theo asked and you shook your head giggling. 

"i mean, don't let me tell you what to talk about" you managed to say between your laughter. "we can talk about your previous hookups if that's something you'd like to discuss"

"i'd rather not" theo shook his head and his cheeks turned rosy. 

"fine" you smiled "now back to my question: how did you manage to play out that prank on professor binns in our third year?"

theo's features relaxed at the simple question and he smiled, recalling the memory. "so it all started with a ridiculous idea from mattheo and me getting roped into something stupid again"

you spent the rest of the night talking and ordering one hot chocolate after the other. there was not one second of awkward silence, even as theo brought you back to your common room. 

"i had a lot of fun tonight" theo smiled, hands sinking into the pockets of his trousers. 

you had admired how well dressed he was when he had come to get you in the afternoon. 

"me too" you said honestly. "i can't wait for the next one"

"so there will be a next one?" 

"don't be ridiculous, theodore nott" you smiled, before telling the password to the eagle ontop of the door. "of course there will a next one" you slipped into the common room and away from the smiling boy in front of it. 

"are they weirder than you?" 

the voice startled theo, as he was standing in front of the shelf in the library. he turned around, not surprised that it was you who had asked that question. you mostly started your conversations in the middle, without so much as a hello or some kind of warning. 

"what?" theo wasn't sure what else to ask.

"you friends of course" you shrugged, like that had been obvious "we've been together for a month and i've never even met them" 

"well, you have met them" theo corrected. "like in the hallways or during dinner" 

"you know what i mean, theodore" you rolled your eyes. "i don't think a grunting sound could be classified as me meeting someone"

"that's just blaise, honestly" theo muttered "but pansy waved to you during dinner more than three times now"

"theo" you pushed "either something is completely wrong with them or me and i'd like to know what it is, now" you sighed, before you added "just say if you're ashamed of me or something, i know i can be a bit rude to people i don't know"

"tesoro" theo sighed "i'm sorry that i let you think that. they're just annoying, that's all"

"and you thought they would scare me away?" you smiled, touching his cheeks with your hands. "you stalked me for weeks and i'm still dating you, aren't i?"

"that's never gonna be funny" he called after you, as you walked out of the library. "fine, breakfast at the slytherin table for you tomorrow" 

"aye, aye" 

"she's not hideous" was the first thing you heard when you sat down at the table the next morning. 

"well, you aren't either, zabini" you smiled, not even fazed by his assumption. "even though theo warned me about you" 

"burn!" enzo called, exchanging a high five with pansy. 

"i'm so glad we finally get to meet" pansy smiled. "i've just been waiting to have another girl around, it sometimes gets to much with all the testosterone"

"i don't know how you manage, honestly" you smiled.

to say theo's friends and you hit it off immediately would be an understatement. it took approximately ten minutes for you to become part of the group. enzo and you had been friends before, unlikely study partners, after you had helped him on a potions assignment once. pansy was ready to keep you by her side for the rest of the year and even blaise took a quick liking to you.

mattheo and draco were harder to break. mattheo, still having a pretty hurt ego about you turning him down the year before, was sure that you were just dating theo to get back at him for whatever reason and draco was just not interested to have any relationship past a simple hello and goodbye. 

you didn't mind their antics, even if theo repeatedly apologized for it. 

yours and theo’s relationship lasted for exactly two years. theo broke up with you one day after your anniversary.

the break up was painful, the fight that followed even more and still, you held him that evening, both of you understanding the severity of your situation and the war that was waiting to happen.

“theo” you cried, rushing through the ruins of the courtyard just months later. 

you had been on different sides after all. you had followed harry potter into the war and theo had been bound to his father and to the promise the man had given to the dark lord. just like draco, mattheo, pansy, blaise and enzo. 

your friends had gotten lost in the fight and despite not being supposed to, you were desperately screaming for them. 

you ran back into the castle, not having found theo outside. you send curses at the death eaters that tried approaching you, having more luck than an actual plan. you were simply determined to find him. 

you were thrown down to the ground as the doors of the room of requirement suddenly appeared and flew open. just as quickly as they had opened, they closed again, spitting out people in the procress, before the fire was tamed behind the doors. 

harry potter, hermione granger and ron weasley were standing up from the ground slowly, black powder darkening their cheeks and clothes. 

it took a moment for you to realize who the other two people were, as you quickly got up from the ground. 

draco was breathing just as heavily as blaise was, both trying to fill their lungs with air. 

“oh god” you mumbled, before you finally started moving, your legs guiding you into the direction of your friends, falling into their arms and pressing them close to you. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry” you cried. 

blaise and draco held onto you just as tight, not being able to let you go as they cried into your hair.

“be honest, draco” you said when you broke the hug, completely ignoring the trio next to you. 

“theo” draco muttered, knowing what you were talking about immediately. blaise and him exchanged a look. 

“is he dead?” you asked, heartbreak already burning in your limbs and throat. you were ready to mourn, ready to lose your life just like him. he had died for the wrong cause, but you hoped, heart heavy in your chest, that death was more forgiving than his life had been. 

“we don’t know” blaise finally said. “we got seperated in the halls, theo—he was looking for you i think”

“i have to find him” you muttered, touching each hand of the boys in front of you. “stay safe” you kissed both of their cheeks, before you turned on your heel, running down the corridor opposite of where you had come from. 

“theo!” you called once more, running up the stairs and through various hallways, hopeless to ever receive an answer.

“y/n” a voice called and you almost crumbled from the surprise it reached you with. hope was hard to keep and you had thought, really thought, that he was dead. 

theo wasn’t dead, but close to it. he was laying on the ground, his back against the wall, while the rest of his body was bathing in his own blood. his cheeks were empty of any colour, lips dry and almost blue as he looked up at you with tired eyes. 

“oh god” you muttered in shock, slipping onto the ground beside him, your uniform soaking up the blood like it was water in the lake. your hands touched his chest and the big glass shard that was stuck inside of it. theo hissed in pain. “sorry, sorry” you whispered. 

“they surprised me as i came down the corridor” he explained. “i was looking for you”

“you found me now” you whispered once more. 

“i don’t think they meant to do this” sweat dripped from his forehead. “they were kids, not older than fourteen, but they left and they took my wand”

“oh god” you repeated as you shook your head, holding his face in your blood soaked hands and kissing his lips softly.

“i thought you were dead” tears slipped over his cheeks and you shook your head crying. 

“i’m gonna help you” you said quickly, before reaching for your wand and using it’s magic to extract the glass from theo’s body. he was winding on the ground, the pain probably unbearable. but you had to do this in order to help him. he would heal, he would survive and that was all that mattered to you in this moment. 

“i don’t want to fight” theo cried “not for them, not against you” 

“i know, my love, i know”

the healing had begun, slowly but surely his wound closed up, only leaving behind the blood around you and the worry on your face.

“come on” you said, as soon as he looked less pale. you took his hand and he followed you through the corridors of the castle, standing next to you when you had to fight death eaters, even beginning to send curses himself. 

“you don’t have to fight, theo” you called over the loudness of the fight. “confringo! i don’t want you to fight against him” 

“i’m not leaving you” theo called back, his voice nearly drowned out by the deatheater across from him, who was screaming curses and uttering threats about theo’s betrayal at the same time. “he doesn’t mean anything to me”

“what?” you send the deatheater flying against the wall, effectively knocking him out. your wand was now facing theo's death eater too.

“i don’t care for my father” theo said, before he too send the man flying. “i only care for you and your well being”

you made sure it was safe, before you pulled him in and kissed him so passionately that you almost forgot you had ever been apart. “don’t ever let me go again, theodore nott” 

“i wouldn’t dare, y/n l/n” 

you took his hand, walking back into the entrance hall, looking if you were needed anywhere. that’s when you saw them coming over the bridge. 

“he’s here” you said, pushing theo behind you if there was really anything you could do to save him. “he’s—“ you paused, as the both of you walked closer up behind the rows of people already standing in the courtyard.

“harry…?” your voice was quiet, as you adressed the boy you had put all your hope in. someone you hadn’t known well, not well enough to be on first name basis, but what did it matter now that he was. what was he?

“harry potter is dead!” voldemort announced loudly, while the deatheaters broke into laughter. 

ginny weasley dashed forward with a heartbreaking scream. “no! no!”

“stupid girl! harry potter is dead, from this day forth you put your faith in me” you looked down onto the ground in front of you and then back at theo, who looked like he was being painfully tortured by voldemorts words.��he too had set his hope into harry.

“it’s done” you said softly. “the war is over”

“we lost”

“harry potter is dead!” voldemort repeated once more “and now is the time to declare youself. come forward and join us.. or die”

your ears were drenched out by the wailing sound in your head. it was loud that you missed everything neville said. you pressed your eyes close, wishing to be anywhere else. to be free from this destiny, but you knew you could never just leave. you wouldn’t be able to leave all these people behind. 

it was theo‘s voice that woke you from your half sleeping state. the word he muttered was foreign on his tongue, but ignited a flame inside of you immediately. 

“harry”

your eyes snapped open like a gun shot had rung through the air. but it wasn’t the sound of a gun. it was harry potter, who was running and firing spells at voldemort. you just had seconds to react, before the fight broke out again, no end in sight. 

you had never thought to be happy that a war continued.

but continuation meant that you hadn’t lost yet. there was a chance to win as long as harry potter was alive. 

when voldemort finally dies, it’s nothing like you ever imagined. he bursts into the air, pieces by pieces disappearing until only his wand is left. 

the deatheater in front of you let’s his wand fall to the ground and you don’t have any interest to finish the job as you sank into theo‘s arms. content is flashing through your body and immediate tiredness is dragging you down. theo holds you as all your weight crashes against him. 

you‘re tired of fighting and of war and death and fear. there is nothing in your head, apart from the thought that you will never have to endure all of that again.

theo and you went away after the war.

you travelled europe for a year, before you came back to hogwarts to finish the school year you were still missing. 

theo got a job at the ministry, you started working at hogwarts. he proposed to you the day that you signed the contract. 

your wedding was beautiful. pansy and luna were your bridesmaids. draco and mattheo were theo‘s groomsmen. all of your friends were there. you had even invited the golden trio, it was only thanks to them that the both of you were still alive and able to celebrate your connection.

“you lost your bow again, robin!” theo picked up the little pink bow and clipped it to his suit, knowing that your daughter was way too busy to even hear him call for her. 

“maybe you should just give up” you suggested, picking up luke who was softly hitting your leg, seemingly tired of walking. 

“but she looks so cute with it!” theo protested, the disappointment sipping from his voice as he pushed the trolley through the wall. 

“it‘s no use if she always loses them” you shrugged. “what is it? like the tenth one you’ve gotten her in the past month alone? just wait until she’s older, love”

theo sighed, but nodded at your suggestion. 

“grace, robin” you called, looking around the people in front of you to spot your girls. 

“well, lucky you’ve got me” mattheo popped up next to you, robin in his arms, as he threw a wink in your direction. 

“why are you even here, mate?” theo asked annoyed “you didn’t have any children the last time i checked”

“well, theres still a few women we���re not a hundred percent sure about yet” pansy joked as she appeared in front of you. “hey sweetheart” she kissed your cheek, before she took luke out of your arms. 

“haha” mattheo rolled his eyes. “i was just accompanying my nieces and nephew’s like a good godfather and uncle should do”

“nope” theo shook his head. “you’re still not grace’s godfather, one daughter of mine has to be enough, riddle” 

“yeah, yeah” mattheo shook his head, clearly not caring about anything theo said “we’ll get there eventually”

“no, we won’t, that’s the point—“ 

“hello nott” blaise greeted, draco following, scorpius and grace behind him. you sighed in relief, glad you daughter had not gotten lost.

“blaise” theo nodded, while you went around the trolley, hugging both men. 

“amazing style choice” blaise pointed against his chest and theo's eyes fell down on his own chest, having completely forgotten about the bow he had pinned there. “looks great on you, mate”

“it’s robin’s”

“sure, keep telling yourself that” blaise said with a sarcastic smile “i heard denial is a river in egypt, y/n”

you giggled, but promptly stopped when theo elbowed you. “you’re my wife. mine” he muttered between clenched teeth, but clearly joking. 

draco took a look on his watch. “there are places we have to be, aren’t there?” he set a hand on both scorpius’ and grace’s shoulder, who were talking to each other excitedly.

“of course” you nodded, following your friends to the platform and hugging your daughter so close, as if that might make her leaving a little less hard. “stay with scorpius, sweetheart. stick together, the both of you” you advised. 

“i think isaac was trying to safe a department for the three of you” blaise told you daughter, who smiled gratefully. 

“yes, mum” grace nodded, before you swapped places with theo, who was already crying. 

“write to me every week, honey!” he declared. “stay far away from professor trewlaney and close to your mother as soon as she’s back at work”

“theo” you shook your head “she should have space to develop” you watched grace and scorpius board the train, waving as it slowly left the station.

“i’ve seen people develop at hogwarts!” he shook his head “it lead to a pregnancy in your case, tesoro”

blaise and draco choked on their spit simultaneously.

“that was after i became a teacher and you know it, dear husband”

mattheo held robin away from him, to take her in fully. “were you made there too?” he muttered, more to himself than anyone in particular.

“mattheo!” draco, pansy and you scolded loudly. 

“hey guys!” enzo appeared behind you suddenly, startling all of you. “oh no, they’re already off, aren’t they?” 

you nodded sadly, feeling sorry for the poor bloke who couldn’t arrive on time if his life depended on it.

“half an hour too late” draco exclaimed with a look at his watch. “as always”

“well you know the traffic is being a bitch” enzo slapped a hand to his mouth, before he took a quick look at evie next to him. “sorry, love. well everything’s been a b-word since jacky started forcing me to use muggle transportation.”

“i do not envy you one bit” mattheo shrugged.

“well, evie” enzo shrugged “the train is gone, but i hear that the weasleys have this super cool car, that—“

“no!” you shook your head, taking the little girls hand in yours. “i’ll take her!” 

“so get-together at yours or what, nott?” mattheo asked “gonna have to know which of your kids were conceived in hogwarts” 

“mattheo!” all of you scolded at the same time.

[flippinpancakes64]

can you please write some headcanons for Carlisle with male reader who is a workaholic and Carlisle constantly has to remind him to go to bed (sometimes even having to drag him to bed)?

Carlisle Cullen with a workaholic Reader

Thank you for requesting and I hope you like this!

Again in your request you mentioned a male reader but I tried to make it more gender-neutral I hope that's okay

Also I tried doing something new... I tried actually writing a narrative story to go with this. Carlisle is one of my favorites and I got really inspired. Tell me if it sucks please like genuinely

Yeah edit here from after I'm done writing this, I got really carried away...

He understands what it's like to be obsessed with working

I mean he's been working for like 400 years

And he doesn't even need to

The only difference is that it doesn't matter if he spends all of his time working

He doesn't need to sleep, eat, or rest

He could literally do the most back-breaking labor in the world for two weeks straight with no breaks at all and he would be fine

A little bored but fine

But you?

This can't go on

For as long as you guys have been dating, he has noticed the same pattern repeats basically every week

You work yourself to the bone for like four days straight, he steps in finally and tells you to take it easy, you take it easy for a couple days, and then you're back at it

He understands, your work means a lot to you

But you mean a lot to him

So he does his best one day to show you what he means

You're sitting at Carlisle's desk in the Cullen house. You didn't even need to ask anymore to be able to use it. What's his is yours. It's late at night, the moon is high in the sky and the house has quieted down. No one is asleep, of course. And if you were awake enough, you would be able to hear the hushed, quick conversations taking place through the house. But as you sit at his desk, finishing some paperwork that didn't even need to be done for another week, your eyes were drooping.

This was the third day in a row that you had done this, and Carlisle was tired of it. He was sitting on the couch downstairs, not really paying attention to the show that Rosalie had on the TV, when he heard your breathing begin to slow. He heard your pen strokes become less and less frequent, and he finally heard you drop your pen altogether. With a sigh he stood up and ascended the stairs. And there you were, one hand propping your head up as your other arm laid atop the stack of papers sitting in front of you. Eyes closed, breathing even, peaceful.

He would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't so frustrated. He had no idea what to do anymore. No matter how many times he has asked, begged, pleaded, and bargained with you to just simply take care of yourself, you've never listened. All it's ever gotten him have been empty promises that end up with the both of you here again. Him watching his beloved human mate working themself to death.

So he starts on his final plan. Last ditch effort.

You wake up to the feel of your pen being taken from your lax hand. You blink the sleep out of your tired eyes to see your boyfriend standing above you with a smile on his face.

"Oh, hey," you say, yawning slightly. "I was just, uh, resting my eyes."

"Really?" He says with a hint of playfulness in his words. "Looked to me like you were sleeping. Maybe even like you're tired and ready to go to sleep for the night."

You sighed. "I told you already, I just need to finish these reports for Wednesday."

"Wednesday as in next Wednesday? As in a whole week from now?" He says with a frown, "Why do you need it done so soon?"

You groan in frustration, "I just do, okay? I've already told you I just like to be on top of things."

He sighs and grabs your face, forcing you to look at him. You shiver slightly at his cold hands. "This is not 'being on top of things,' this is full-on obsession," he says sternly.

You huff and pull your face away. "You're not one to talk. You work all of the time. So stop being a hypocrite."

"I'm not trying to argue. All I want is for you to see what you are doing to yourself, and to me." He sighs.

And that's when you finally let your eyes fall on the man that you love, really taking him in. His hair is disheveled, his eye bags are pronounced, his clothes are ruffled. This is the roughest you've ever seen him look.

"I'm worried about you," he says in explanation of his appearance. "I love you, I want- no I need you to take care of yourself. I worry, constantly."

You sit there stunned for a second, processing the fact that you have made this perfect man, the epitome of surreal beauty and professionalism, practically get on his knees and beg you to go to sleep. You steal a glance to the stack of papers on the desk, calling your name, crying for just one more to be completed. Your mind fills with the anxiety of turning in your paperwork late, the embarrassment of facing your boss, the stress of catching up. But one more look into his golden eyes and you stand up.

He flashes a blinding smile and drags you to your shared bedroom. He waits patiently, following you around as you change, brush your teeth, and finally crawl under the sheets.

It's only as you're cuddled up to him, looking into his beautiful eyes and stroking his handsome face that your thumb smudges something under his eye. Some more rubbing and the "eye bag" under his left eye is gone.

"You liar!" You gasp indignantly.

All he does is chuckle and kiss you.

Outside the door you can swear you hear Alice laugh lightly.

[panickingpansexuality]

Mommy Issues

Your mother comes to visit you

Warning this story contains a not wonderful reunion with a toxic parent

For five years you have been no contact with your mother and everyday that her words didn't dig into you was another day that you were healing.

Elliott and you were at the Saloon sharing a drink in celebration of him coming home from a second book tour. He was working on another novel but was having trouble finding a good antagonist, luckily for him and ill fortunated of, you fate was just about to deliver one.

The door to the Saloon opened and your entire body went rigid.

"Ellie.." you whisper out. "We gotta go."

Elliott doesn't ask questions, the woman's back is turned to you two as she chats up Gus, quickly you two make it for the door and out into the night.

"Who is that?" He asks as you two speed walk home.

"My mother.." you say your heart clenching in your chest. "I can't believe she's here."

Elliott knew the relationship with your mother wasn't one to write home about, he knew that she had ripped your heart out with her narcissistic personality and you had fought hard to get away from her.

"Breathe my darling." Elliott said grabbing your hand

You went through your breathing exercises feeling the bile rise up in your throat. A thousand questions ran through your head as you wondered why she was here. Why now? Who had told her you were here? Dad?

You didn't remember the walk home, the feeling of Elliott holding your hand and controlling your uneven breaths were all you could register.

The lights were out, Elliot's body held yours as a form of sensory seeking.

"I hope she doesn't find the farm." You say quietly

Elliott stayed up with you until two when you both went to bed.

The next morning there was a knock on your door around ten. You went to answer it, Elliott was in the barn with Bubba the pig. Which left you alone with the woman you hated the most.

"Mother." You said.

"Hello (y/n), my darling. Stand up straight will you? Is this your home?" You stepped back as she let herself in.

"My, have you only just moved in? It looks like it needs a lot of work."

"We do ask." Elliott said from the doorway, "that guests take off their shoes before entering."

"Who's this?" Your mother asks taking a seat the table.

"My husband." You say tightly.

She looks Elliott up and down like a stain in the carpet, then turns to you.

"Well, I suppose that he's your type, though I think that he could do a little better."

"Do not speak about my partner like that." Elliott says coldly.

"Oh are you still in with that gender nonsense?" Your mother asks you. "Seriously darling, you're a perfect girl I see no reason to-"

"They," Elliott says tightly "are a perfect person and I think it's time you leave." Elliott says, "I spent four years chasing after that human. Four years of hoping and praying that I would get a single date and Yoba granted me with a partner more perfect than nature itself."

Your mother leaned back in the chair and looked him up and down.

"I came all this way and you're going to tell me to leave my daughter?"

"You came all this way to ridicule your child and I'm telling you that I will not stand by and have you rip away what they've been trying to heal for the last five years! Now you can either walk out or I can have our trusty goat kick you out."

"You let a goat into your house no wonder it's so-"

"Taylor!" Elliott yells outside, with a quick a high pitched whistle your goat jumps the stone fence and runs up past your dog and into the house.

The goat belts innocently at you, with a quick wag of it's tail it looks at the stranger and goes behind the chair she's sitting in.

The goat headbutts the chair and the woman stumbles out of it, she screeches as the goat and pulls the hem of your mother's skirt. She screams and runs out of the house cursing you both.

You run to the door and yell;

"Fuck off with you and your curses you hateful cunt!"

Elliott laughs and Taylor the goat belts after her, then innocently leaves the house and goes for the berry bush for a well deserved treat.

"Are you alright?" Elliott asks you.

You sigh and lean against the doorway, heart pounding, shaking your head you wordlessly allow Elliott to hold you in his arms.

"I froze up..thank you so much for standing up for me."

Elliott shakes kisses the top of your head, his arms like a weight holding you to reality that you're safe.

"I will always do what I can for you, please don't thank me for doing the bare minimum."

"Elliott, it isn't the bare minimum to me..its more than I could ever dream of someone doing for me."

Elliott sighs, a knot in his chest forming at how such a little basic action means the world to you, he feels good that he made you feel good but he hates how it was through him doing something anyone should do for you.

Your husband is almost startled when suddenly you pull away and place a sensual kiss to his lips, his arms coming to your ribcage to hold you close, a small groan escaping him as you kiss.

Someday you'll realize that someone who loves you should do more than the bare minimum for you and your confidence will truly thrive then and he can't wait to grow with you through that.

[sodalitea]

I - Miracles of the White Nights [Il Dottore x Reader/OC]

For Valentine’s Day I’m sharing the first chapter of my longer fanfiction about Il Dottore and my Genshin OC Marie Snezhevna (this story can be perceived as reader insert type of thing; the characters' names play a big role in the plot and I decided to pick them by myself). In this chapter I have not provided the most detailed background of the current circumstances between Zandik and Marie, but I plan to do so in the future. I don’t really know if I’ll update it in any regular schedule, but for sure I’m going to continue this story. Meanwhile, enjoy!

TW: Minimally suggestive! Mentions of Marie's guesses about Dottore's true intentions.  Summary: Small gestures make a big difference. Due to the long lasting effects of a serious argument with Il Dottore, Marie Shnezhevna gets degraded on the lower position in Haeresys despite being one of his most reliable workers in the lab. Three months later a ceasefire is established. Zandik finds surprising but efficient way to trick her into getting promoted again. Don't repost my artworks/writings please! I'll appreciate likes, comments and reblogs. I am the author of both text and signature illustarion. ♡ English is my second language, there may occur some grammar issues!

AO3 link

I - Miracles of the White Nights

“The days in Snezhnaya seem identical. Wherever you go, you will find your hair and eyelashes frozen. It's so cold that you have to keep moving your body constantly in order to survive, even in the properly chosen clothing. Everywhere you look, you'll be surrounded by the snowy desert. If you stray too far from human settlements, your eyes will be obscured by one of the sudden snowstorms. Bunch of snowflakes will cut into your face like tiny, marvelously crafted blades. Somewhere on the horizon you may spot the outlines of deep, impenetrable, coniferous forests. You will find it difficult to stand straight due to the violent blows of the whistling wind trying to bury you alive in the frosty grave. It's worth mentioning that the typical Snezhnayan days are rather short in comparison to local nights that can last even for months. This land is harsh, but it still possesses unique, raw beauty. Those cold nights offer truly charming views in the form of multi-colored aurorae you couldn't experience anywhere else in equally rich form. The artistry of almighty Cryo Archon is undeniable, only the canvas she uses to paint her abstract compositions are painfully fake. Of course, these aren't the only charms of the Ice Nation. This country is huge and full of contrasts. What may seem surprising is this special time of the year when the sun takes control over the sky completely, so it doesn't set at all. The local population describes this phenomenon as the "Miracle of the White Nights''. Over the course of four hundred years, one could experience many of them, but they could not compare to the fragrant, inflaming nights in the Nation of Wisdom.”

Zandik, as he wasn't holed up in the deepest dungeons of Haeresys, stopped next to one of the windows in the southern part of his mansion and locked his gaze on the distance. The scarlet irises wandered somewhere along the glittering horizon, seemingly without any specific goal as the Harbinger enjoyed pervasive silence. Since he got rid of the segments, it had been happening more and more often. Sometimes he was just trying to shake off a strange feeling of lightness inside his skull. He was fed up with everything. Exhausted with the amount of delayed work. Instead of dealing with serious matters, he wasted too much time on trivial affairs such as correcting the mistakes of people less competent than himself. For centuries he wasn't relying on his employees that much and now he was just even more disappointed with them. After all, they were only humans with ordinary lifespans, without the satisfying amount of experience that would possibly match the level of Teyvat's most powerful mind. Zandik felt frustrated by the lack of quick alternatives to slow down the pace of his own work. He was alone with all of the projects he started when his other selves were still present. By the time he still handled most of the things on his own in different forms, but for now he couldn't even rely on himself truly. This would be a disgrace to him if he addressed this issue to Pierro or their Archon, since for hundreds of years he had been an exceptional professional, the master of planning and reacting quickly to every breakthrough revelation. He was always a few steps before everyone. At this stage, it was not possible for him to return to such a tedious work alone. It would be much less problematic if only deadlines never existed. Escape in thought was his way to break away from the unfavorable situation at least for a short moment. His thoughts traveled to the place where it never snowed. To the forests that sheltered a much richer variety of living organisms. The days were longer there, and the hot nights often made it impossible to fall asleep. The scents in Sumerian air could effortlessly mess with the restless minds of angry young men living for some greater purposes… For the Second Harbigner of Shneznaya, looking towards Sumeru was an involuntary, bitter flirtation with his own past. Currently he was in a place so incongruous to his homeland, but it was the only nation that guaranteed him complete freedom and support in turning his wildest daydreams into reality. It was the only place in Teyvat that allowed him to prove himself the way he was. He had everything he wanted to continue his journey and test the ideas that many would not even dare to think about… And yet, somewhere in his suppressed consciousness, he understood perfectly well that even here he was just a stranger meant to simply play his part. This time, as the man continued staring out the window, he heard the echo of someone's slow footsteps on the marble floor behind him. He recognized the sequence of these steps extraordinarily well… Those were inimitable. If only their owner walked barefoot, she would reach him in perfect silence. The corners of the Doctor's mouth turned up involuntarily.

“Marie Snezhevna,” he said without even turning towards the woman. Instead, he laced his fingers together behind his back. “Is this an emergency? At this hour I would rather expect to witness your presence in the laboratory or in your chamber.”

His voice echoed crystal clear between the walls of the corridor occupied by him and his underling. As usual, the scientist chose his words in a stiff, somewhat archaic way. Although it added seriousness and supposed politeness to his overall image, he himself seemed distant. Despite Zandik's cold demeanor, his interlocutor did not feel rejected. She was used to talking to him. Marie's interactions with Il Dottore resembled rituals based on some unwritten rules which the main participants managed to learn over the last few years. If there was an ordinary side witness there, the said unrefined observer could experience the eagerness to say that both Marie and Dottore enjoyed engaging in these subtle games.

“I will leave immediately if I interrupted something important,” the woman replied calmly, keeping her demeanor professional. Zandik remained silent for a moment, giving her no answer. This made the woman sigh heavily before she turned her back towards him to fulfill her promise. The quiet rustle of her clothes alerted the Harbinger, who slowly turned towards her and squinted his eyes hidden under the raven mask.

“Stop.”

It was an order. Naturally, the woman immediately stopped and turned her face towards him, allowing him to continue his speech. After all, she had to respect his will. He cleared his throat, seemingly offended by the whole situation.

“You wouldn't come here without a reason. Besides, I don't think it's respectful to be in a hurry when you're talking to your boss.” Indeed, he had known her for a long time and he knew what he could expect from her. He had to play it cool, precisely because — since he had fully understood his own position over the last few months – he didn't want to miss the opportunity to finally talk to Marie alone.

Since he delivered the two gnosis to Tsaritsa, he cut off almost all forms of communication with his former main assistant except her reports on the progress of her research under his command. Although the heretical scientist usually didn't care about time, now it felt like the whole eternity had passed. A really strange thing. Deep down in his heart he was a simple coward, or maybe his unwavering patience was reasonable and had finally paid off as the woman herself announced her readiness for a face-to-face confrontation? Marie shrugged her arms and shifted her body weight to one of her hips before shaking her head, sighing again with a faint smile on her lips. It was an extremely familiar gesture, as if everything before had never had the opportunity to set them apart.

“Of course, naturally…” she looked up at him, and then her facial features softened noticeably. “I just want to thank you for everything you did for me. I really didn't expect this. Certainly not after I caused additional problems in a very crucial situation. I made it all about myself. I think you deserve an apology for what I said, when I stated that you're…”

“Your apology is unnecessary.”

The Harbinger made a gentle gesture with his hand to silence her. He didn't want Marie to take old skeletons out of the closet. He also did not want to elaborate more about the choice of his that had a negative impact on his daily functioning. He wasn't even bothered by the earlier behavior of his former assistant anymore. Even though he still couldn't fully accept what she truly meant back then, he understood her perspective on an intellectual level. During that mission, he was caught off guard by Kusanali and he just did what was necessary to succeed. However, he could have done it all more skillfully to minimize the unpleasant side effects of the special operation. However, he did not take this into account at the time, so he was delaying an adequate response to Marie's complaints. No honest apology passed his lips in ages and he wasn't very likely to utter that magical word anytime soon.

“Follow me. It will be much more beneficial,” he gestured and clasped his hands behind his back again. Then, he started moving further into the southern nave of the mansion. He walked leisurely, visibly waiting for Marie to go after him. True to his expectations, she caught up with him very quickly. When Marie glanced at his face from closer distance, she spotted his poor state immediately. He looked extremely tired and couldn't hide it even under the mask. His skin was paler than usual and it had a sickly greenish undertone. Exhaustion would explain his growing isolation in a convincing way. His own pride was his downfall. As they walked through the corridors in silence, listening to the wind blowing outside, Marie noticed that they were approaching the sector of private chambers. His intentions could be... everything and anything.

Dottore's supposed intentions caused Marie's consternation, but in order to avoid hasty guesses, she decided to keep all comments to herself. The time on his side teached her that the worst things were usually caused by the incorrect assumptions about his agenda. Yet, when Zandik started unlocking the door to his dorm, the woman cleared her throat quietly and took a step back.

“I'll wait outside.”  

Slightly awkward smile appeared on her face. She received a reply in the form of a nod. It seemed that he didn't care about the goal that could stereotypically motivate any man to take a woman to his apartment. Overally, Zandik loved privacy, so Marie was going to respect that as well, leaving aside the obvious moral issues. The Doctor disappeared inside his apartment for around five minutes. When he came back, he handed her a small box wrapped in a papyrus. He had a gentle yet wry smile on his lips that only fools could trust. He warned the woman before she started asking him any questions.

“In Sumeru I managed to obtain some new chemical samples which I expect you to analyze, describe, and maybe even extract something completely new from them. I just require you to be extremely careful when handling them. I didn’t choose any intermediary, considering the high value of those resources… I'm strongly against unpacking them outside of the laboratory environment.”

“I see. I will do my best to keep them safe,” Marie took over the package with extreme caution. She seemed to turn pale when she heard a silent clink of glass under the packaging. She looked fearfully at the Harbringer, who rubbed the tip of his nose with his knuckles, covering the lower part of his face at the same time. It took a lot of effort for him not to burst into manic laughter. Fortunately, Dottore was an excellent actor.

“This is another urgent project that has been delayed unexpectedly, so get on with it immediately… If you can make it this evening, I might even consider promoting you again.”

The man sounded as categorical as promising. Yes, exactly, it was a great idea for Marie to return to her previous position. Of course, if only that's what she wanted. Zandik just intended to convince her to do so, being fully determined to achieve the desired effect. Among all of his employees, he memorized cooperation with Marie as the most pleasant. Moreover, he could keep an eye on her constantly to avoid particularly embarrassing accidents involving her... This woman's reliability required appropriate supervision to shine fully.

“Promoting me, you say… For how long?” Although the woman turned it into a joke, she slowly moved towards the opposite side of the corridor, remaining very careful around the package received from her boss. Since Marie was cut from the same cloth as Zandik, she also didn't want to admit that she simply missed the infamous heretic's company. “Apart from formalities, I just wonder what it is. Naturally, I will prepare the report as soon as possible!”

The Harbinger watched as the woman took up her task. It was amusing to witness her curiosity and willingness to gain knowledge. In this particular case, he had a feeling that it would herald a real breakthrough in their united research.

“I'm counting on your expertise, Professor,” he added in Fontanian as she left, before the storm of woman's black curls disappeared from his sight. He expected very quick results from this long-awaited experiment.

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

When Marie entered her study room in the lab, she put the package on the table and rubbed her hands together with excitement. Sumeru was the region with the best samples of poisons. What could be inside the parcel? Small colorful frogs for the production of poison darts, medicines and antidotes, rhizomes, roots, leaves, mushrooms, insects… The tropical jungle hid countless treasures and the fact that Il Dottore himself managed the trouble of obtaining raw materials was exceptionally valuable. Marie didn't know anyone who was more familiar with the local flora and fauna. She herself might not have even paid attention to some things during her on field delegations, but now she had the opportunity to learn something new directly from the mastermind himself. On top of that, he offered her another promotion. Wonderful. Low importance tasks weren't as fulfilling as experiencing the true science. After conversation with Zandik she felt extraordinary happiness that she had not expected to return these days. The way he referred to her as Professor scratched the right part of her brain a bit too pleasantly. She was more willing to try to forgive him for scaring her to death when he destroyed his segments out of nowhere. At the same time, was this really necessary to wait so long before handing her the new project?

The woman tied her hair back and put on protective clothing, quietly humming the first random melody that popped into her head. Then, she walked over the table and began unrolling the package. As soon as she saw its contents, she felt the wave of heat on her cheeks. This wasn't what she expected… She slipped the protective mask off her face in bewilderment, and then, with wide eyes, she began to look at the containers. The bottles indeed contained chemicals, but at first glance none of the substances had something to do with the poisonous flora of Sumeru. Those weren't even standard vials from Zandik's laboratory, but some colorful glass flasks decorated according to the Sumerian manner of design and sealed with appropriate labels. Marie sank heavily onto her stool and began carefully turning the bottles over in her fingers. Maybe… Dottore made a mistake or someone miraculously robbed him, replaced the original cargo and even managed to escape with his life? Sounds a bit too silly, but it was all just women's cosmetics. Nothing really valuable to the scientist.

Rose water, kohl, aker fassi and several niche perfume oils. What's more, at the bottom of the package there was an original Sumerian halva decorated with dried fruits.

Marie tried to maintain her denial, but instead of relief, she felt a pang in her heart. At this point her face felt as if she was on fire. If Zandik planned to give it to her right after he returned and her sulks prevented him from doing so… She felt so bad about herself. Willingly or not, she blinked her eyes a few times, as for a moment her vision became blurry. He had no reason to be so generous. Maybe it was a suggestion that he noticed her getting old slowly, or maybe she should just look for some specific, new purposes for simple household chemicals? Maybe the halva was poisoned or packed with elixirs he hadn't tested before? After all, Dottore always devoured it himself and he was reluctant to share it with anyone. Or maybe Marie was just overthinking at the moment and what Dottore really expected from her was terrifyingly simple. Was it that he wanted her to try those substances on herself, like she always used to do in her job? Zandik wished to see the effects of her work in the evening, which meant there was no time for typical scientific inspection… Marie had just enough time to do her makeup. It was exciting, moving and scary in its own way. It wasn't usual to get any prosaic, non-scientific gift from Zandik.

However, if this was the only requirement to restore the old order in the laboratory, Marie was willing to do it for both of them and touch the precious part of Sumeru that he brought to Snezhnaya for her. Soon the woman's green eyes got embraced by a beautiful dark frame. Her cheeks and lips got touched with the color of a pomegranate with a golden glow. She placed the sweet scent of honey, sandalwood and rose behind her ear. She cut the halva into pieces. For now she was almost ready to face him again. It was one of those white nights, when endless days asserted their domination over the lenghty times of darkness again.

[ingravinoveritas]

The fact that in that scene in the doctor who special Donna’s about to go off with the doctor in the end and her husband is like yeah most husbands would be jealous of their wife hanging out with men in a small space alone but then he looks at the doctor and is like nah not him. Like he knows the doctor wouldn’t be interested in Donna in that way and that she was completely safe from cheating on her husband. Shaun took one look at the doctor and was like I know what you are . He was NOT worried about Donna being alone with him

So, I did watch the 60th special today, which I originally wasn't planning to do, since I'm not much of a Whovian. But curiosity got the better of me, and once your ask came in, I figured why not give it a watch.

After sitting through the whole episode, I still have no idea what the hell actually happened, or what a Metacrisis is, or why they were all fighting evil anthropomorphized dryer lint...but I was still thoroughly entertained. Haha. And there were moments I liked (disability rep with Shirley Bingham whose character actually wasn't about her disability but just her as a badass person!), moments I didn't like, and moments that made me unexpectedly emotional (the mention of Wilf, which given Bernard's passing last year was incredibly poignant and left me in tears).

But what I was really living for with this episode was how unbelievably and incredibly gay it was, in absolutely the most phenomenal way possible. Again, I want to emphasize that I am a very casual DW viewer, so I can't speak to previous seasons or incarnations, but this certainly felt like the queerest Doctor Who ep I have ever seen. The awesome Yasmin Finney as Rose. Describing the Doctor as "male...and female...and neither...and more." Having legend and lesbian extraordinaire Miriam fucking Margolyes as the voice of the Meep.

And of course, the moment you mentioned...

What's really interesting to me about this is so much of the writing in this episode was pretty on the nose (thinking in particular of the scene about the Meep's pronouns, which was very well meaning but felt a bit heavy-handed in both the writing and some of the delivery). But I wouldn't say Russell T. Daddy was really going for nuance in a lot of what ended up on screen, which is why this moment stands out and is so interesting and hilarious. You can almost feel Russell abruptly stop short of saying what this is clearly meant to be saying, and leaving it as subtext instead of, well...text. And I've mentioned on my blog previously about seeing the Doctor and Donna's (as well as David and Catherine's) chemistry as very "exasperated straight woman and her chaotic bisexual BFF," so this really seemed to validate the hell out of that. Haha.

So yes, overall, I enjoyed "The Star Beast" much more than I ever expected to, and I'm definitely intrigued to see what the other specials will entail (especially "The Giggle," since NPH is in that one, and the queer quotient will no doubt be off the charts, at least if the production stills/BTS I remember seeing last year are any indication). It will certainly be interesting to see if we get more moments like the one above with Fourteen (Ten? Ten-Four?), so I suppose we'll find out soon...

[lawluaficionado]

Pregnant Luffy + Distressed Law

Law was stressed most of the time, we can say it was the default setting. Having been dating Luffy for well more than a year is the cure for his depression, and the introduction to anxiety, massive panic attacks and mild high blood pressure.

When he'd met Luffy (again) two years ago, the younger had claimed "You had the yummy tattoos at the hospital!" Yes, claimed. He hadn't even responded when his brothers had already wrestled him to the ground saying he was a creep. THIS HAPPENED AT A COFFEE SHOP!

Two months later they were dating, so...he couldn't be all right up in the head either.

Now, at the age of 28, he's decided it's finally time to invite Luffy to move in with him. That's the plan at least.

Nothing, absolutely nothing goes according to plan with his boyfriend. NOTHING! Here he was making steak when his boyfriend barges through the front door, luggage in hand. "You got me pregnant! Now you hafta take all the responsibility!"

This is what Law meant with the panic attacks...

=-=-=-=-=-=

To be continued later...

=-=-=-=-=-=

So much for Law asking Luffy to move in. When he'd told Luffy about his botched plans, the shorter male had laughed and said "Silly Torao, don't you know by now those never work?"

Needless to say, it's now been two months since Luffy had moved into his house and things had gone from 'We still have time before the baby' to 'oh shit there's literally only three months left'. When Luffy had moved in, he was already four months along, and based from his latest doctor's appointment, their baby is on the smaller side. Which would explain why even at six months, he's much smaller than other pregnant people (on average).

"It's okay, he just takes after me then," Luffy's carefree laugh rang in the exam room.

It eased Law's nerves more than he would admit. "So I guess this means we don't have as much time as I thought to get everything together."

Luffy just waived him off. "We have to get a big party and tell people!" Luffy watched with a odd sparkle in his eyes as the jelly was wiped from his abdomen. "Can we stop for grape jellies at the store? And meat?"

Law instead made a detour into their local supercenter. He had a mental checklist of every single thing he researched on what newborns need. But first... He went straight to the paint section. "Want to choose the color of the nursery?" He smiles down at Luffy.

"Really!?" Luffy bounces around toward some really bright yellows and reds. "I like these! It can be like a sunrise and then we can paint clouds and birds and a pirate ship!" He let Luffy ramble on about the decoration. And from there Luffy started putting in more things into the shopping cart. A lot of carved wood decorations, which he swore he'd paint himself and place in the nursery.

They'd have to call in Ussop, no way was this nursery going to look decent with their art skills.

"Whatever you want Luffy, but we should really at least buy the crib."

"Ohh, I didn't tell you. Your dad, my dad and Gramps got everything already. They said it was going to be a surprise. But if they told me, they should have know it wasn't going to last long," he shurgs. "So we only need to decorate really." By Luffy's dad, he meant his birth father, Crocodile. Guy scared Law as much as Sabo irritated him. The only tolerable one was Ace, and that was pushing it.

Law relaxes a little, "Wait, so when you say they got everything, you mean all the crib stuff and rocking chair, and then the changing table and the stroller and-"

Luffy shuts him up, standing on his tippy toes to kiss him. "You worry too much."

"No, you worry too little," Law leans down, cradling his boyfriend's face between his hands.

"Our dad's were really happy to be grandparents. My Gramps is not as happy but he's gotten over it. They said it was a gift."

"Well, okay then, that makes me feel ten times better than this morning."

Once they are on their way home, Luffy has an epiphany. "Oh I forgot to mention! Your dad and my dad are going to stay with us the last month I'm pregnant. That was kinda the deal we made." He continues laughing as Law's eye begins to twitch.

[anidiotwithfanfiction]

"How is their company still going? Who knows. They had one brain cell and they lost it at the stock market."

- cofeewithaleks on tiktok

Bright florescents hum obnoxiously, the red velvet walls encasing are starting to feel stuffy.

Nervously, the redhead preens himself in the mirror behind.

Over the top extravagance crammed in every nook and cranny. Expensive marble statues, expensive leather chairs, expensive suits and ties.

It was like everything in the building needed to wear a price tag to get in.

And Pickles could not feel more out of place.

Stuffed into his thrifted tux, he played with cheap cuffs as the elevator went up.

He really didn't know how he landed this job. His resume was far from impressive. Fired from three jobs in the last four months, he applied to this one out of delusional hoping. He was nowhere near qualified. The job required and extensive background check, random drug tests, and 5 years of experience.

And he had a good one and a half at best. From a shit job he took back when he'd just graduated high school.

The elevator dings, and he spins around to face the front. His stomach swirling, he really needs this job...

The light is blinding, pouring through drawn crimson curtains. Windows from the floor to the ceiling, like a wall of glass, illuminate the figure hunched over at a large mahogany desk. He blinks hard, and steps into the room, suddenly feeling all eyes on him.

Nervously, he clears his throat.

"Uh, hi. 'M here for tha job."

Another figure emerges as green eyes adjust.

"Welcome, ah" the man moves beside the one sat, adjusting glasses as he peers down at a stack of papers "Pickles, is it?" He glances back up and it strikes the redhead that this isn't a rhetorical question.

"Yes- sir, uh- I'm s'posed to start my training today for-"

"Security, I'm well aware. It's a pleasure to be seeing you again"

And as the man steps forward, holding out a hand, it clicks just how familiar that voice is.

"Charles, right?" He asks, nervous to get it wrong.

"Yes, you may remember me from the interview." He retracts his hand. "You made quite the impression" he looks up, as Pickles pulls his hand back. God he hoped his it wasn't too sweaty.

There's a pause, the room quiets for a moment too long and green eyes drift to the left, the shadowy man beginning to form into something tangible.

"Ah, and this is Mr. Explosion, our CEO"

A freckled hand reaches out, as he stands in front of the desk now.

"Pleasure ta meet ya sir"

Shoulder length black strands part, as mossy green eyes greet his.

He glances at the outstretched hand, before awkwardly seizing it with a grip a bit too tight.

"I told you to call me Nathan" he looks over to Charles annoyed.

The man simply rolls his eyes.

Mr. Explosion turns back to Pickles, those intimidating eyes boring into his soul.

"Call me Nathan."

"Nat'an', got it" dry lips crack a smile.

This job might not be so bad.

"So you're like, my body gaurd?"

"Not yet" Charles interrupts "we still have to train him. But yes, Mr. Explosion, he will be your body guard."

Nathan does a once over of the poor ginger again, his eyes trailing a little too long for comfort.

"Metal"

Charles simply sighs, before adressing Pickles directly.

"If you'll follow me, I can begin to show you your on shift duties."

The rest of the day goes by uneventful. For the most part anyways. Following Charles around like a lost puppy was far from interesting. But there was a moment in the breakroom that felt odd to Pickles. Even now, as he lays in his shitty little bed, he keeps thinking about it.

Everything was fine, standard "I say jump, you say how high". Learning safety protocols, the itinerary, how Nathan likes his coffee.

Straight black. No sweeteners, no creams. Just a plain Jane coffee. And though Pickles could never sip on something so tasteless, he could respect it.

But it was as they were pouring a fresh cup he noticed Charles tense up.

And it was so fast, he wasn't even sure he saw it correctly. It was like pure instinct. The redhead heard some shuffling, a few beeps, and then a metallic clink.

By the time it clicked and he finally turned around it took a moment to process what he was looking at.

In part, due to the much-taller-than-he-thought CEO himself standing there beside the microwave. He hadn't really gotten a good look at him earlier, but the guy was easy on the eyes. He had sharp features, his eyes, mouth, nose. Like he was chiseled from marble.

But the most distracting feature was just how unserious he seemed.

Every other suit walking around this place carried themselves like they owned the joint. Practically shoving their wealth and entitlement down your throat in just the way they walked.

But here was the guy running the place, slouched over with piss poor posture, trying to heat up some Ramen in the microwave.

"Nathan" Charles cleared his throat, bringing the redhead back to earth. "What have I told you about putting metal in the microwave"

"To uh, not do it" he looked over at Charles confused, before looking back to the microwave. Swiftly the elder man moved forward, picking his pen from the floor and reaching into the appliance.

"Can you tell me why you put a fork in there just now?"

The raven haired man just stared. Like a laggy computer screen processing indefinitely.

Charles sighed, set the fork on the counter, and started his food up again. Metal free this time.

It was a stupid thing to fixate on, but it showed him a lot about the pair.

Like Charles, he came off as just another bureaucrat. But he was smart. Smart as hell. It was something he tried to downplay, but Pickles noticed it. Even in his little mannerisms, the way he tapped his pen against the paper instead of the clipboard. Or how he changed his style of speaking depending on who he was talking to. Proper and strict with the managers. Softer with the regular guys, the janitors, the cafeteria ladies, even him. He just spoke different.

And then there was Nathan.

He seemed to lean more into "Well meaning but exhausted father" when he spoke to him.

And Nathan was something else.

Quiet, for sure. He'd hardly spoken. He seemed to have a bit of a staring problem too. Those vibrant eyes boring into him whenever they found themselves in the same room.

And he was a total mystery.

Pickles had heard of him before, he did his research when applying. Kid's made it on the top 30 under 30 for the last three years. The details were a bit unclear, he didn't take many interviews. But from what Pickles could tell he had inheritaded the business from his grandfather, and somehow quadrupled profits in the first year.

He couldn't help but pull out his phone and type in a quick Google search. Because honestly, he just couldn't fathom how. Like the guy seemed cool, not one of those stuffy jack asses Pickles had had the displeasure of bumping into today. But he also seemed... aloof? In a way. Like sticking a fork in the microwave. He'd be lying if he said he'd never done it. But the way the guy looked at Charles, like fork and metal were two separate objects.

It just wasn't adding up.

And Google gave him nothing of substance. Just gossipy tabloids extensively covering his dating history. And it felt weird, but Pickles was a nosey guy. If he's gonna be spending every day glued to this guy's side he might as well get an idea of who he is.

Countless pictures of expensive dates, interviews of scorned lovers, tasteless speculation on the man's "prowess". He was starting to feel bad for the dude, these chick's were ruthless in their reviews.

But there was one that caught him off guard. No pictures, no proof, she choose to stay anonymous. But the way she spoke about him just felt too genuine to be faked.

"What was it like, dating the Nathan Explosion?"

"Well at first, a dream come true. He really is a sweet guy. More than generous, he even helped me pay off my student loans."

"Was that common for him? Using his wealth to make problems go away?"

"I don't know about that... he just. He didn't like to see people struggle. Not when he had the means to help."

"Well it must have been hard, dating someone like him"

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well, someone of such high status. Someone so sought after."

"It was different for sure. He really is a romantic, despite the playboy persona he gives off. In real life, he's nothing like that at all."

"So then, why did things end?"

"He just... it didn't work."

"How so?"

"I don't want to speak ill of him, he truly is an incredible guy. We just... didn't click. We want different things in life and, well, honestly, things were just going too fast for me."

He rubbed his eyes, glancing at the time.

With a sigh, Pickles tossed his phone to the side. Pulling the scratchy comforter over his small frame.

He had a long day ahead of him.

"So uh, how long 've yew been runnin the place?"

"Couple years"

The red velvet of the elevator is beginning to feel like the interior of a coffin. Self contained and suffocating.

He knew he was expected to be around his new boss constantly. But he wasn't expecting the guy to be waiting at the door for him.

After an awkward exchanged they had shuffled into the quiet ride to the top.

"Yew grow up round here?"

"No"

His smile stretches thin.

"Yew don't talk much huh?"

Nathan break his short responses, turning to him.

"Depends on what we're talking about"

He looks so nonchalant, like there's not a thought behind those gorgeous eyes.

"What kinda stuff do ya like?"

The Ceo turns back towards the door, his shoulders raised as he contemplates the question.

"Chips, I guess. Fuckin love chips."

Sometimes Pickles thinks about bashing his skull in. The mirror in here would probably do the trick.

But before he can fully entertain the idea, the elevator door chimes, as they begin to part.

He's ready for the light this time, unwilling to be blinded by the massive windows view.

They step into the office, finally free of their awkward confinement.

"What about you?"

"Huh?" The question catches Pickles off gaurd.

"What do you, um, like?"

Theres an antsy fidget in the looming man's demeanor. Like a shy school girl introducing herself to the class.

It strikes something endearing in him.

"I dunno. 'M pretty kick ass on the drums."

"Yeah?" Nathan turns his head back, after pacing towards the curtains. He begins to tug one side closed with his eyes still locked on the red head.

"Yeah, I mean. Me an' my friends had this band back in highschool. Weren't nothing big, but we uh. Played a lot of parties, couple a' dive bars." His eyes cast down to freckled fingers clawing at themselves. He's rambling too much. "It was fun" he's too old to be reminiscing about high school.

"That's fucking metal"

It catches him by surprise. The room much dimmer than before as the CEO pulls the second curtain closed.

"Thanks? That was forever ago though-"

"How old are you?"

Wow this young man was brave.

"Twnety eight" There's no point in lying. He's pushing thirty working a menial job.

Nathan finally rests in his cushioned throne, rummaging through the drawers.

"You're older than me."

"Five years" he clicks his tongue, his piercings clinking against chipped teeth.

Nathan stops for a moment, dark eyes raising to meet his. The redhead felt his heart drop. Did he say something wrong?

"How the fuck do you know my age?" The CEO's voice deadpans, something terrifying in that flat tone. Those expressionless eyes.

His face grows bright red

"I was- shit" God this is embarrassing "it's just, like, yer in the news. I've seen it mentioned before" no way was he outright admitting he was fucking googling the guy.

The pair froze for a moment, either unmoving. Something tense in the air.

"Huh." Cold eyes calculating, prying him apart.

"That makes sense." He shrugs his shoulders, turning back to his desk.

Pickles could feel the air return to his chest. His heart still pounding. Christ that was nerve wracking.

This was a side he hadn't seen.

He's brought back to earth by the flick of a lighter.

He looks up, finding his new boss sparking up a joint.

"Wow"

Brilliant puffs of white pour from thick lips.

He turns to the new hire, holding it out.

"You smoke?"

His mind runs wild.

This is a joke right? Or like, some weird test designed to get his ass fired?

"I uh"

But what if it's not? What if he offends his cool ass boss's offer and is marked the lame ass square for the rest of his time here?

"I dunno bout that. Tha job listing mentioned yew guys drug test randomly."

Nathan pushes back in his chair, chuckling.

"Dude that's for like, meth and shit. Nobody gives a fuck if you smoke."

"I-" His face feels warm again "is this like a test?" He can't beat around the bush any longer. There's no way this guy is for real.

Nathan sits up, pulling himself towards the desk, a red button beneath his fingertip.

"Watch this" He's grinning as he presses down, the intercom clicking on.

"Hey Charles. Tell the new guy it's cool to smoke"

"Nathan."

He sounds so done with him.

"Don't be an asshole. Tell him it's cool."

"Tell me you aren't smoking right now. On the job."

"Quit being a square. Just tell him."

With a heavy sigh, Charles responds.

"While we do not test specifically for Marijuana, it is highly discouraged to engage in getting high at work."

Nathan laughs as he releases the button.

"Told you dude. We don't give a shit."

Pale hands outstretch again, passing the torch. It feels like he's in middle school again, the cool kids giggling as they hand him the bud.

He swallows hard, fingers brushing against rough digits.

"Fuck it" he pulls in deep, his lungs set ablaze.

"Fuck yeah" Nathan's eyes light up "Finally someone fucking cool."

[hsgwrld-archive]

-JUST FRIENDS. P.SH

-pairing : best friend!Sunghoon x gn!reader

Genre : fluff ,, angst (?)

-inspired : just friends - Virginia to Vegas!

-wc: 1036!

Warning : mention of smoking ,kinda drinking (?)

Sunghoon being asshole at some point.

-100.flw masterlist

Note - big thank you to @redm4ri for helping me !!!. This is first story from 100followers masterlist !! Anyways I hope everyone who reads it enjoy this 😸feedback is appreciated 🫶🏻

taglist : @wanna-live-yn-life | @ddenoudepression

——-

“Friends?” It was exactly 2 years ago that Sunghoon asked you to be his friend. It was the start of high school, you met him through a mutual friend

Now everything is changing slowly. You developed feelings for him but just as a friend right? It was hard to understand. He treated you more like a lover, less than a friend.

And you're telling me you wanna kiss me

But we shouldn't 'cause we're just friends

“Sunghoon we shouldn't," You lightly pushed his face away from you with your hand, his face getting red with every moment as he stared at you. Walking together home from practice, you never knew Sunghoon would wanna kiss you. But you both knew that shouldn't happen.

“Why not y/n, tell me why not“ groaning Sunghoon said, looking straight into your eyes.

“We are just friends right?”

“yea we are”

Smoke a cigarette and talk shit about exes,

Take a couple shots and see where the night ends.

Another weekend, there you were, standing beside Sunghoon with a cigarette between his fingers. It was a chilly night. At a party Heeseung hosted. It wasn't a party but more like a gathering.

You believe Sunghoon saw his ex, at this point, He knew she hated seeing him smoking so why not show her that he doesn't care anymore? The only thing Sunghoon wasn't aware of was your feelings. You hated seeing him like this and it hurts.

“Have you seen her?” you turned your whole body towards him while leaning on the balcony railing. You crunched your face in disgust when Sunghoon exhaled the last blunt. The smell was disgusting. Sunghoon turned his face toward you.

"Yes, I saw her, but I don't care anymore. I'm glad I broke up with her. The rumours about her lately are disturbing."

Sunghoon let out a small chuckle. He threw the cigarette away and fully turned towards you.

"And y/n, you should forget about Jake, I saw you staring at him“

The second most thing you hated about this gathering was Jake, your stupid ex. He made you so happy, but it didn't last long. But at least you have Sunghoon now.

“Let's forget about them both, let's go take some shots and let's see how the night will end”

Tomorrow when it's over and we're sober

I just want to believe that you'll miss me

That shouldn't have happened. The kiss shouldn't have happened in the first place. It was a huge mistake, right? Everything happened too fast, from getting drinks at the counter to sharing a kiss on the couch. For you, the whole night was blurry, but the moment you both shared was stuck in your head.

You were regretting everything that happened. The question was what Sunghoon was thinking at this moment. Was he upset about it? Or did he not want to see you anymore? Days go by. You didn't see Sunghoon at school, you wished he missed you as you miss him. He didn't even bother to call you or text. You would be happy if you get a small text saying 'I hope you're doing okay' but you can only wish for that.

Hoping Sunghoon hasn't turned his back on you at this moment, and that he still sees you as his best friend.

Days still go by. That is, you thought two years of friendship was gone.

Going home from school, you were almost there. You never thought of seeing him in front of your door. Wait what?

There he was standing, with flowers in hand. Wait? Flowers.

“What are you doing here?” you narrowed your eyes at him. Almost four days went without him talking to you, and now he is in front of your house, smiling at you.

“I wanted to see you, and I missed you“ he smiled, stepping closer to you, and embracing you in a hug. You feel your cheeks heating up. Maybe you liked him more as a friend, but he didn't see you that way, right?

Sunghoon explained he didn't reach out to you because his phone was broken, and had family business to attend to.

Stop pretending like we're just friends

It has been a week since he showed up in front of your house. Something has changed. He treats you differently? More like a lover than a friend? You were sure of it this time. Holding your hand, kissing your forehead when you both hang out in public. It was giving you a headache. Confusion, everything he said was confusing.

Once again he was at your house. For the usual movie marathon you both have.

That is, you thought, you needed to ask him. Pausing the movie, what was going on in the background, turning full attention towards Sunghoon, who was sitting beside you on the couch.

‘“Hoon, what are we?”

‘“we are good friends y/n”

Friends? It was the biggest bullshit you have ever heard from Sunghoon. But this made your heart shatter.

Just friends? His words were stuck in your head.

Friends don't treat each other like we do.

Friends don't kiss each other randomly.

“You're lying to yourself and to me Sunghoon" you exclaimed, your voice breaking. Tears escape your eyes, taking your head between your hands. It wasn't your first time crying in front of Sunghoon. Failing a grade or a boy rejecting you, it was always Sunghoon who comforted you about everything but this time it was different. You were crying because of him.

Sunghoon understands your feelings, it hurts him too, seeing you like this. He knew to him, you weren't just a friend but something more. He was scared to hurt you. You two were too opposite. Sunghoon was a so-called cold type and didn't care about grades or others' feelings but when it came to you, He wanted to be the better version just for you.

Sunghoon wished to be more than friends.

Seeing you crying broke his heart more than ever.

Moving closer to you, putting his hand on your back and rubbing it. A smile broke on his lips.

“Maybe I am lying to myself, and we should stop pretending that we are just friends“

[lorata]

Speaking of the evil witch Gloria, how long was D homeless for? (I know she basically kicked him out in August but I don't remember when the Centre found out) Also Eibhlin would definitely resort to violence if she ever found out about what happened, but, did she ever find out? (Wait now that I think about it, that was probably included in his file right) Did you ever write out Lyme's initial reaction to his file? Like what stood out and made her go "this one, this right here is mine"? (Sorry about the amount of questions!)

he was homeless for just under 6 months? she kicked him out in August and he was picked up sometime in winter

I feel like Eibhlin would have found out eventually, probably when inquiring (tactfully) about Claudius' respiratory issues as he's the only one in the VV with chronic bronchitis. and he's like oh yeah yeah that goes back to when I was homeless as a kid, shit sucked

(eibhlin: kill bill sirens)

re: the last question, I DID write that for a prompt meme uhhhhh *checks math* sweet mercy, 10 years ago

I did not clean this up or anything but have a deep cut.

FIC BELOW:

Mentors tended to be a superstitious bunch; when dealing with the death of a tribute year after year after year, sometimes it was easier to pretend that at least some of it was up to a higher power that only needed to be appeased by wearing certain shoes, or not washing socks, or using a particular headset. Lyme never bothered with any of that; to her it felt more like courting bad luck, the exact opposite of the intention. What happened if that lucky mug broke, if something interrupted the prescribed routine?

No. Sitting and watching her kids die was bad enough without adding additional blame on herself because she didn't follow a particular ritual. Brutus didn't do it either -- no room for the supernatural when there were rules -- and the two of them let the others keep their habits. Everyone pretended not to notice anyway, and while Lyme didn't approve exactly, she still knew not to touch the coffee cup with the cracked handle if Chaff had a tribute last the bloodbath, and if she did a food run she only ever brought Wiress orange vegetables.

But Lyme wasn't completely immune, no matter how much she tried. Rather than enforced habits and catering to the capricious whim of luck, Lyme believed in something else: that tributes and mentors were meant to be, and that the spark of recognition should come soon, and strong.

It made mentoring harder than she'd like -- Brutus puts that kind of thought away until after he has a victor to look after, no point in going for mysticism when it just means that four times out of five they're destined for death -- but Lyme can't help it. Years and years ago, back when she first picked up a weapon in the training centre, Lyme felt her connection with swords like a jolt of lightning straight down her spine. Picking a tribute had that same moment of connection, of feeling right.

Other people, people with facile thoughts who didn't have to help children do their best not to die every year, might call it like falling in love at first sight. In a way it was, only so much more important than love; Lyme had never been in love, never wished for it and would be happy if it never afflicted her, but her tributes -- that mattered. Even if she only had them for a month or less.

The 67th Games are up next, and Lyme puts her name in for the boys. She loves Misha and would never take any of that back, but her first victor excepted, Lyme has always connected better with the boys, the angrier the better. She doesn't bother asking why; let the mentor analysts try to dredge up her psychological profile, but Lyme doesn't care. If ever a girl catches her fancy she'll take it, but the math favours the boys. Brutus and Nero take most of the girls anyway; Lyme does wonder, when she lets her mind go down that road, whether cross-sex mentoring is a kind of penance, since in order for them to stand here in the victors' box another Two got shipped home in a box of their own.

Teyla, the Head Trainer, hands Lyme the stack of files for the short list. "Here," she says. "We have a couple of strong candidates this year."

She doesn't tell Lyme which; they never do, preferring to see if the mentor's instinct lines up with the Centre testing. It usually does, though on occasion there have been surprises. Lyme picks up the first file -- a large, handsome boy named Raymon -- and flips through it. Good scores, of course, and his photos show him alternating between a winning smile and the typical Career scowl of intimidation. Lyme taps her finger against the table, then sets the file aside.

The next one's name is Linder, and Lyme pauses longer on this one -- he's meaner than Raymon, who uses size rather than meanness, and he nearly got cut for excessive violence in his field exam, gutting his final target and spreading the insides out over the grass -- and moves him up into the maybe pile before going on to the next.

The next file is three times the size of Linder's, and Lyme's eyebrows skyrocket. Teyla chuckles at her expression. "Yeah, we have a lot on this one. See what you think."

Lyme flips open the cover, glancing at the name -- Claudius, a good name, solid and Two without being on the nose -- and she leafs through to the photos before skidding to a stop. She sucks in a breath against the sudden ache in her chest, like she stopped a punch from Brutus with nothing more than her torso.

"Ah," Teyla says quietly. "I wondered if you'd pick him."

The seven-year-old who stares out at her from the page is ugly, as Centre children go; there's a note that says he doesn't pass the looks requirement but shows enough determination to allow for an exception at this stage. He has a sharp, crooked nose and dark grey eyes, and his expression is defiant and challenging, chin raised. But there's something in his eyes, a desperation that pinches them at the corners and shakes the hard line of his mouth, and Lyme recognizes it because she saw it on her own face, over twenty years ago.

This is not a boy who showed up to the Centre for the promise of good food and rough play, or who had the choice of attending or being expelled from school, or who wanted the status so he could brag to his friends about having the bracelet around his wrist. This is a boy who saw the Centre as a lifeline, and who, if they didn't take him, would have drowned.

Lyme swallows and turns the page. As the years pass he doesn't get any prettier -- worse, even, as the awkward stage of puberty takes what baby fat he had in his cheeks and makes him lean and almost rat-faced before his teenage years fill him out -- and the desperation doesn't fade. Each year it blazes out of him so fiercely Lyme almost expects it to radiate off the page like physical heat. He knows why he's here, what he needs to do, and he is going to do it.

If his scores weren't impressive then he wouldn't be on the list at all, but even so, Lyme's eyebrows creep back up her forehead. Top of his class in everything from weapons to endurance to media training, and he only has three kills to his name because the trainers didn't need to see any more. Even Lyme had four, their memories burned into her wrist in circles of scarlet ink.

In his hallucination test, when the trainers pumped him full of tracker jacker venom to see what they could dredge from the depths of his psyche, Claudius saw himself alone, unwanted. Lyme lets out a long breath and places her hands flat down on the table.

"What's the rest of it?" she asks, indicating the giant stack of pages.

"Just go through it," Teyla says, and Lyme gives her a look before moving on.

Foster records. Lyme hisses -- Two's system might not be the best but it's better than most, and almost all the kids placed into homes by the Centre are happy with their families -- because Claudius' file shows him bounced from home to home in unprecedented numbers. The foster families didn't want him; the group homes didn't want him. Each file is filled with complaints, of violence, jealousy, bouts of rage.

The final note is a form granting Claudius dispensation to live in the Centre dorms -- in Residential, with the fourteens and over -- from the age of seven. Lyme turns the paper over, stares at it and rereads it five times because that can't be right. No one has ever been given leave to stay in the dorms early, except for this boy. He grew up in the thick of it, surrounded by kids who'd taken their first kill -- when most kids his age were still getting used to playing dodgeball and not getting in trouble for breaking noses.

"He had massive behavioural issues," Teyla says, and Lyme reads through his psychological evaluations ever year and sees the same thing. "One of the neediest candidates we've had. We tried sending him home several times, giving him the chance to leave, but he wouldn't take it. He begged to stay, for us to let him volunteer."

Lyme frowns. "What happened to make him latch so hard?"

Teyla rifles through the pages and hands Lyme an incident report, then watches her carefully and nods as Lyme hisses in a sharp breath and grits her teeth. Allegations of abuse against his birth mother, including emotional cruelty and physical abandonment; she left him on the streets when he was seven, and the Centre didn't find out for almost six months. Since then, the file notes, Claudius developed a strong mother complex, drawn to female trainers who had children at home, though it didn't stop him from achieving a high pass on his first kill, a woman specifically chosen because she'd had children.

It's been a decade and a half since Lyme last saw her father, and her memories of him have faded to a dull sludge of discomfort and vague, swirling nausea in the back of her mind, but she remembers the feeling. How it felt to be a kid whose parents didn't love her, who learned to defend herself because she had to, and who turned to the one place that wouldn't punish her for turning into the only person she could in order to survive.

Lyme has already made up her mind, but she keeps going. There's a supplemental file marked for hers and the Head Trainer's eyes only, and Lyme hesitates for a moment before opening it. It's a sheaf of papers from his schools, starting from the year Claudius entered the Program and going on until he left at the age of thirteen, and Lyme can't remember the last time any candidate's file included anything other than academics.

She gets it as soon as she opens it to the first page, a 100-word essay entitled "My Favourite Victor".

My favourite Victor is Lyme, Claudius wrote in his large, childish handwriting, and he misspelled several words and mixed up letters like d and b fairly consistently, but Lyme reads on. I saw her Games last year. That's when I knew I wanted to be a Victor. Lyme isn't pretty but she's smart. Most other Victors are pretty but I like her because she's not. Because I'm not and people make fun of me but she's not and no one makes fun of her. So if Lyme can be a Victor and be not pretty then I can be not pretty and do great things too. I want to win the Hunger Games and then we can be friends and no one will hurt me ever again.

"There's more," Teyla says, and Lyme turns over the pages and sees that Claudius wrote about her for every essay he could get away with it. She's his favourite Victor, his role model, his hero, his vote for most influential person from District Two. There are crayon drawings of the two of them together, and Lyme recognizes herself even as a stick figure, hair cropped and arm muscles bulging.

By the end of the file Lyme is shaking, and she pushes it away and takes several long breaths. Her first instinct is to say no, to choose Raymon and be done with it because there have been supply delays and a handful of small uprisings all over Panem in the wake of Johanna Mason's victory and that means this year will be different. There's been no word but there's always something, a nastier Arena or an unusual twist, when the Capitol wants to send a message, and Lyme doesn't want to send this kid -- this desperate, broken boy who latched on to the Victors' Village as the only place that would ever love him -- to his death. He thinks he knows what he's doing, but like all of them, he has no idea.

Except. Except there's record of a conversation he had with one of the trainers, where he said that if they cut him he would kill himself because he had nothing else to live for. Lyme could still say no, and the Centre has this on file which means he'd be sent to an asylum on suicide watch until they could deprogram him, but even the thought of it burns in her like a swipe from a poisoned blade.

She can't say no. Not to those eyes, angry and desperate and doing their best to hide the dark flash of hope and greed. Not to this boy, who by all rights should have been trampled years ago but who still stands there, top of his class, and demands that the world pay attention.

"I want him," Lyme says, and she's surprised -- except not -- that her voice rasps hoarse in her throat.

"He'll be a challenge," Teyla says. "His looks alone will limit the kind of role he's able to play, regardless of what the Games require."

"I don't care. He's mine."

Teyla's mouth twitches up in a hint of a smile, and she nods. "I'll put you on the list for his mentor and tell the trainers. The decision will go out next month, but we'll keep the mentors from him until just before the Reaping. I'm not confident in his emotional state if he knows he's getting you."

Lyme nods. She signs the paperwork without recalling much of what she's doing, and when she leaves she has to fight the urge to run back inside, grab Claudius and pull him out, take him back to the Village with her, Games be damned. She doesn't; instead she scrawls her signature across the bottom of the page that signs his death warrant.

His eyes stick with her, burning in the back of her mind, long after she leaves the Centre and the gates of the Victors' Village close behind her.

[emjae]

i think i don't hate you ²

diluc x gn!reader

following the acting grandmaster and her girlfriend librarian's talk with y/n about their feelings towards diluc, they decide to act on it tonight. after a few drinks with a few hisses thrown at their friends kaeya and venti, they begin their conversation with the winery owner with a heavy heart.

2.6k words

tw: drinking of alcohol, traumatic past go brr, related to the manga, angsty beginning but it's probably gonna get a whole lot worse in the next chap, pretty wordy; also goes a bit into depth about the feeling of isolation

* reader will be referred to as y/n here, yes diluc makes an appearance yeheyyy

If sounds could have emotions, then the plop your body made as it met the couch was definitely exhausted. You had just come back from the Favonius Headquarters and the walk was boring and tiring, piling unto the hours and hours of work you'd done with Jean and Lisa. Earlier, when you were about to leave, Kaeya stopped you and invited you out to the tavern, which was definitely the last place you wanted to be. Sure, Charles is always the one manning the bar but Diluc always makes unannounced drops and judging from your luck, he'd most likely be there tonight. So, naturally, you declined and did a rain check.

You leaned your head back, staring at the ceiling blankly and thinking about everything your life ever meant (which was to be Diluc's top one struggle, problem, and enemy). He did some pretty bad shit to you after Lord Crepus passed. You gave him what he needed: time, space, and comfort while Diluc gave you the complete opposite.

That's right. Once upon a time, you two were friends—great friends, really. But once someone fucks up that bad, everything you've ever had was tossed into the fire.

Every moment of his eighteenth birthday was vaguely remembered for your head was really foggy and was mostly fueled by a lot of negative emotions. After a few insults here and there, you also recall breaking down and crouching for a healthy five seconds before standing up and telling Diluc how tired you felt. The rest after that, you'd never forget.

"If you're so tired, maybe you should leave me," he laughed dryly and exhausted. You scoffed, running a hand through your hair.

"I never said anything about leaving you, Luc. I'm trying to be your friend here, I want to be there for you but I can't do that if you keep pushing me away!"

The maids had left a long while ago after Diluc dismissed them when you'd started raising your voice. Elzer felt compelled to stay for your and Diluc's support but left as well when things started getting personal. You two had been fighting, screaming for hours. By then, your guys' breathing were as heavy as the weight on your chests.

Hands and jaws clenched; chests heaving; tears pooling. This had to be the most emotional day in your life—it was a big fat lie when you said you didn't remember when was the last time you'd cried. It was precisely mid May, four years ago after the tragic events on Diluc’s birthday.

"I'm not asking you to be there for me," he says, taking a deep breath in through his nose. "I never did."

Your eyes widened at this. Something bubbled in your chest—it wasn't anger anymore. You could feel Diluc watch you as if you were some lunatic, in which you did feel like one. Fighting your best friend over something like this? It was ridiculous.

"You're not thinking straight; you're in mourning right now. I'll come back to check on you tomo—"

"Didn't I just say that I don't need you here? Just go, I don't want to see you again," he looks away, yet there was no shame laced in his voice as he said that. You swallowed, hard. Another laugh leaves you but you shut yourself up by breathing in slowly. It took you one blink to get the tears falling.

"Diluc, please," you whisper, stepping closer to him. Yet he stepped away. "You need someone now more than ever, let me be that someone. I want to be, it's not– I don't –"

"It's not what? An obligation? Responsibility?" He finally looks up, advancing towards you and looking you straight in the eye—his crimson reds glossed in tears just as yours. He whispered as if raising his voice would make the tears spill over. "So go. I don't need you."

You could feel your throat closing up, followed by a sob. Your arms raised to his waist, wanting to hug him, but you pull them back before you could touch him. "Don't hate me for anything. I tried to be what you needed, but if you don't want that, so be it," wavered your voice as you said this, walking backward until your hand felt the doorknob. "I love you, Luc, alright? So I'm sorry if my feelings change."

And so the door shut. And once again, Diluc was alone.

Suddenly, your vision of the ceiling blurred. When you blinked, something wet trailed down your temple. Tears? Oh. You were crying.

A groan left you as you sat up straight and wiped them away. You would drink your sorrows away at the Cat's Tail if it weren't for your deadly allergies. Maybe you should take up that offer with Kaeya. You hadn't thought of that day in a while now. Perhaps it's a good thing you saw Diluc tonight, you two could straighten out everything and unpack all your emotional baggage.

"Good Gods, let’s just get this over with,” you say and get up, grabbing your coat and leaving.

You lived a good few blocks from the tavern. You always had to use the long way because of the gods-forsaken amount of cats lying outside and inside of Cat’s Tail. The walk was never too long but never too short, however, with the number of thoughts running around your head, it felt like it was way, way, way too long.

Although you were dazed out for most of the trip, your legs made it to Angel’s easily. What should you say, do if you see him? Good Celestia, what if you make eye contact? That’s the worst type of interaction anyone ever has to go through.

The night you said it—the I love you part—you initially meant it as a friend. Back then, you’d always said that to each other as a joke at first, like a sigh of relief when a favor was done by one another, or when one of you saves the other’s ass. You two went through a lot and for a long time too, it was natural that some form of platonic/familial love grew in the midst of that.

But now that you think of it. . . at that moment, maybe you did mean it in another way. You couldn’t remember; again, you were fueled by lots of negative emotions. Before you could process what you had said, you were already out the door. Elzer was sat outside by the staircase and was alerted by the door. The minute he’d seen your red, tear-stained face, he stood up and ran over to you and offered to get you a ride home. Thank the Archons for him, by the way.

Before you knew it, you had arrived at the Angel’s Share, staring at the door like some idiot. Another groan leaves you yet again. A long groan that went on for five seconds until you lazily pushed down the doorknob and entered.

“Ah, captain! I thought you weren’t available tonight?” Kaeya greets. Despite hearing his voice first, you already had your eyes on the bar and who was managing it. Despite it being Charles, it still made you feel kind of. . . not relieved.

“Sorry, Alberich. Changed my mind last minute,” you smile softly and took a seat. “Something really strong, make it three.” Kaeya’s eyes flew wide at this, chuckling in amusement.

“Ohoho, what brought this on? Stressful day in the office?” he prods, swirling a glass of wine in one hand while he leaned his cheek on the other. “Don’t answer yet, I’d like to guess.” He takes a sip of his wine slowly, looking for an answer.

“Anything go through your wine-fed brain, friend?” you ask sarcastically while muttering a “thank you” to Charles who had just slipped three glasses of whatever strong alcohol they had on hand. Kaeya clicks his tongue and takes another sip of his wine.

“Too much paperwork?”

“Similar to your first.”

“That sounded. . . oddly sexual? Ooh! Ditched a one-night stand?”

“What? No! Last guess,” you cringe, both at Kaeya and the drink. Your friend and colleague turns to you and looks you in the eye—a very uncomfortable move for you, for some reason. You tried to scooch away, but he scooches closer.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I gi—ooh! Is it love~?” he sings, catching the attention of Venti who had just walked in.

“Love? Now, this is the kind of juice I’d drink that isn’t grape juice,” the young bard grumbles as he takes the seat next to you, furthest away from Kaeya and closest to the wall, a spot he always occupies when you drink with the two. “What’s this about love? Is a certain someone in looove?” Venti giggles as if he were already drunk despite the fact that he was nowhere near touching a glass.

You huff and cross your legs as you down the entire glass. “Mhm, that’s not good,” Kaeya mutters and snatches the empty glass from you. “Seriously, Y/N, what’s going on with you?”

“I don’t know anymore,” you mope into your hands. “Kaeya, did you ever smooth things out with you and L– Diluc after. . . you know?”

Kaeya gives you a puzzled look, just as Venti did. “Why’re you asking?”

“I may kind of, perhaps, maybe have thoughts about doing just that.”

“What? Why? When? Why???”

“Smoothen what? What’s the big deal?” Venti chimes in, thanking Charles for his wine.

You and Kaeya wince at the question, visibly and internally tensing up. “And did I forget to ask why?”

“Exactly three times, and besides, I just. . . it’s been weighing on me—”

“Oh my, GODS, Diluc is the dude you like?”

“No!” Venti gasps dramatically, slapping a hand over his mouth. Your heads slowly turn to him, to which he gets the message and sinks back. “Shutting up,” he says with his hand still over his mouth.

You turn back to Kaeya and reach out for your second glass. “Yes. Maybe. Kind of? I don’t know! Listen, Lisa and Jean were just teasing me and then things got a little serious and when I got home, all I could think of was that day. Night? I can’t even remember anymore,” followed by you downing the glass again.

Kaeya sighs and sets down his glass. “You know that I’m all about helping you but Diluc? As much as I want to be his brother again, him being your friend is off the list. What he said and did isn’t forgivable,” he says, seriously this time. The usually carefree Kaeya must’ve been shocked out of his body.

“I know, I know, but that’s exactly why I need to fix things between us. It’s been four years, Kae. Plus, we weren't thinking straight. When you're that overwhelmed, you would’ve said anything. He did exactly that—”

“So why are you thinking of letting this go?!"

"Because! Despite everything he said and did, and all the swearing at each other the last four years, and the awkward encounters in public that lead to little roast battles, I think everything I ever felt for him is still there. Was and never left," you hid your face behind your hands again, confused and extremely unsure of what to do. Venti, who you kind of forgot was still by you, placed a hand on your shoulder. "Look at me, I'm acting like some lovesick dick."

Kaeya sighs, drinking a bit more of his wine and watches as you do the same. "I think you should talk to Master Diluc," Venti says and snatches a bottle of wine from behind the counter when Charles wasn't looking. "I may not know what's going on between you guys but you should go with my advice 'cause I'm always right," he shrugs and takes a nice long swig that took three whole gulps. "B'sides, it's been four years! That's like. . . four years!"

"Thank you, Venti, for your wonderful insight," you turn to Kaeya. "See? He agrees."

"That's because he doesn't know anything about what happened. You deserve better, Y/N!"

Another groan leaves you, irritated by the fact that you didn't know what to do. "And how is Venti already wasted?"

Kaeya laughs lightly, swirling his glass and begins a new topic, the front door of the tavern opens with a tiny jingle. Neither of the three turn and continue to softly converse among themselves until Charles leaves his spot just as Venti was about to ask for another refill.

"Master Diluc, thank you for taking over my shift for me."

Your entire body freezes. Drats. The entire reason for your presence in Angel's was to drink your problems about Diluc away and to avoid him, not to drink in front of him now while you're still trying to figure out if you wanted to reconcile or leave things as is. Why must making amends be so difficult? Is it a trauma response thing?

"It's no problem, Charles," says the voice you so didn't want to hear tonight. Kaeya nudges you with his elbow, gesturing to the second floor with a raised brow. An easy signal to get, so you slowly move your head to nod, but then change your mind midway and end up shaking your head. The cavalry captain shrugs, asking why. You shrug back, confused about your answer too. "Give my birthday wishes to your daughters as well. Enjoy your time," followed by his boots softly clicking on the floor and Charles's slowly fading away.

"I will, Master Diluc. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Take care."

When the door shut with that jingle again, the four of you remained awkwardly, hellishly silent. Six Fingered Jose's lyre and the hushed conversations from throughout the tavern thankfully made the silence between you all less insufferable, including the occasional loud laughter from the celebrating people from the Adventurer's Guild by the corner. Even as Diluc filled Venti's cup with hesitance and a very evident roll of his eyes, he still felt uneasy by your quietness. No catty comment as a substitute for a welcome? No dissing of his grape juice in his face while calling him nicknames related to his favorite beverage? Nothing?

Admittedly, it was a new feeling. Different, but in an uncomfortable way. You could feel his vermillion eyes staring at you with the slightest bit of concern while he put away the now-empty wine bottle (courtesy of yours truly) into the full crate of glass bottles carefully. Sighing, he picks up the bin and walks out the door to discard the trash.

When the door jingles close, Kaeya leans in. "What the hell?"

"What now?" you complain out loud, making Venti giggle.

"You made Y/N mad~" he burps out cheers-ing to no one in particular before downing the very glass.

"That was so much tension—and I'm saying that, me, the absolute god and king of tension!" Kaeya whisper-yells at you, desperately finding ways to change your mind and forget about anything related to his brother.

“Oh calm down you big baby, I’ll handle things myself.” That was a lie, a cold-faced lie. Sure, you can carry your own weight but confrontation, where your feelings are involved, isn’t your forte. “Just trust me on this, would you?”

Kaeya purses his lips then leans over to Venti, who was already passed out on the counter, and retreats with another sigh. “I have work early in the morning so I have to go, but I’m leaving my door open for you in anything goes wrong, alright?”

Your eyes soften at your friend’s support before nodding. “And–”

“Bring this little guy with me, yes.”

Your fellow captain picks up Venti and easily piggy-backs him and walks over to the door, but not without giving you a small, reassuring smile. You return the favor with a wave. Before Kaeya could open the door, it jingled open, a man clad in black and red filing in.

Here we go.

be in the taglist? just dm me!

taglist:

@lez-zuha

@dancing-hillary

[sunnyie-eve]

2 | Bring us closer

Series: Uttermost Lifestyle

Paring: Johnny Knoxville x Original female character

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Mention of rape

| MASTERLIST |

~

This morning Caiden begged to go to work with me so I agreed to keep him off to the side. He was actually just excited to see a small film crew for a tv show.

"Great, Alex is here to watch me get sprayed by a skunk." Johnny smiles as I walk into the building.

"I don't have to join, right? I've been sprayed when I was younger and it was terrible." I look at the crew.

"Nope just watching." Jeff tells me and I'm thankful.

"When you aren't doing anything we wanna have you just watch some of us so we can get close to you. So you feel comfortable around us." Johnny walks over putting his arm around my shoulder.

"That's fine by me. And if I wanna try something anyone is doing, I can right?" I ask them.

"If you want to go for it." Jeff says as they get things set to go.

"Oh, I hope it's okay I brought Caiden today. He begged to come with me." I move over to him.

"I didn't know you have a little brother." Johnny smiles at him.

"He's not, he's my son." I wrap my arms around him but as soon as he sees Chris he takes off.

"I'm sorry for assuming." Johnny apologizes.

"Don't I get it all the time. I had him while in high school because of my ex. It's a long story." I didn't wanna just throw all my personal stuff at him when this is our second time meeting.

"I got time. That's if you wanna tell me." He takes a seat on desk behind him.

"We were at his older friend's party and he made me drink a lot. I wasn't all there and he took advantage of me." I lean against the wall.

"He raped you and got you pregnant." Johnny says not sugar coating it like I do.

"Yeah but I got my world out of it. It's just us two most of the time, along with Chris." I laugh adding him.

"I have a daughter whose four. My ex and I have good relationship so I can see her." He tells me.

"Kyle, Caiden's father, wanted nothing to do with him for six years. Suddenly he pops up on his birthday wanting to try but always gets Caiden's hopes up. Yesterday Caiden told me Kyle went to the school trying to take him out early. For school records he has no father information. When he was born the only dude by my side was Chris. Yeah, Kyle is on record as the father but I gave him my last name."

"Good, he's a piece of shit that doesn't deserve to be apart of Caiden's life. He has a wonderful mother." Johnny gives me a smile.

"You don't even know me." I laugh.

"Chris said a lot trying to get you this job." He laughs standing up straight.

"You still technically don't know me. Especially what kind of mother I am." I cross my arms.

"I don't need to know because I can see it and it's all in the eyes too." He points at them.

"Why you starring so deep into my eyes, man?" I make my eyes wide.

"You're supposed to keep eye contact when having a conversation with someone. Let's get going because I gotta skunk to meet." He grabs my arm pulling me with him.

"Are you coming Caiden or are you gonna stay with Chris?" He asks as we pass the two.

"Chris wanted to show me some things. Is that okay mom?" He asks me.

"I don't care. Chris behave." I point my finger at him.

"Okay, that means I get mama Alex today." Johnny says making me shake my head.

"Don't call me that." I make him laugh.

"You can call me daddy Johnny if you want." He jokes.

"I'll pass. Hi Ryan, Bam." I wave as they walk pass up to go inside.

"Hey, Alex." They wave back.

~

While Johnny talks to the skunk lady I try not to laugh at his face while she informs him about them. "I'm Johnny Knoxville and I'm about to get sprayed by a skunk."

"Hello. Hello, Mr, Skunk. Hi, Mr. Skunk. How are you? Come here, Skunk- AHH!" He gets sprayed and I laugh at me.

"Let him out." The lady tells him.

"Well, damn it, I'm trying to." He just keep get sprayed. "So that's 5 squirts. He's gotta be out after the next one, right?" He asks so we say yes.

When he was done he walks towards us so we back away. "What's wrong?" He laughs coming towards us.

"You smell." I jog backwards.

"We need to bond. Come here." He puts the cage down walking faster toward me.

"Don't you fucking dare!" I point at him as he starts to jog over to me.

"Johnny no!" I run away from him trying to put other crew members between us.

"Fine, fine." He stops walking away from me.

"So Alexandria, you've been sprayed before?" I'm asked.

"Yeah, when I was ten. My brother locked me in our shed with one. It was the worst thing in the world. Any time I see one or smell it I try to get as far away as I can." I laugh.

"Why did you come out today?"

"I walked into the building and Johnny volunteered me to watch." I notice it was too quiet around me then scream as arms are wrap around me and I get picked up.

"You fucking son of bitch!" I curse at him as he rubs he body all over me before letting me go.

I start to cough because all I could smell was skunk now and I couldn't breath clean air. "Fuck you!" I start to punch him.

"Ouch! You hit hard. Ouch!" He tenses up as I keep hitting him.

"Fuck you." I curse as we all get in the van.

"Now you need to take a bath in tomato juice to get that smell off." Johnny gets told.

"We have a problem." Jeff says.

"What?" I ask annoyed.

"We didn't get enough big cans for two people."

I turn my head slowly to look at Johnny and he laughs but puts his arms up as I pull mine back to punch him again.

For the bath situation Johnny was gonna use most of the tomato juice because he was actually sprayed while I was hugged by him.

"Gonna strip all the way down right in front of me?" I laugh as he gets undressed.

"It's gonna bring us closer." He gets fully nude. "I'll try to save you some." He runs to the bathroom.

As I sit outside, because I couldn't get the smell on anything, I hear the crew yell my name.

"Alexandria! Johnny's about to pour the last can on him so you won't have any!"

"Fuck it." I get undressed staying in my bra and underwear running to the bathroom. "What happened to I'll try to save some for you!" I startle him.

"I am..." He smiles lifting the last can to pour on himself.

"I will get in there with you fucker. I don't care if you're butt ass naked." I excuse myself passing the crew.

"How often do you see two people, one nude and one semi nude, take a tomato bath together?" Johnny asks the camera as I join him in the shower.

"Just pour that on my back because that's were you rubbing yourself all over." I snap my finger at him so he does then dumps it on my head like he did to himself.

"I'm just happy I'm not wearing a white bra." I stare down at myself.

"Rub it into my back?" Johnny turns around.

I look at the camera, "I didn't know this was something I sighed up for when Chris got me this damn job."

"Getting in a shower with a fully nude dude you just met yesterday?" Jeff laughs at me.

"No, rubbing in the tomato juice/sauce whatever for him." I message it into his body than I do myself.

He goes to turn on the water but he doesn't fix the temperature right away. "Ah, that's hot." He backs away from the water moving behind me.

"That's burning me! Why did you push me forward!" I punch him in the chest then fix the water to a warm temperature.

"We'll leave you guys to shower alone. We'll get some new clothes for y'all." The crew leaves us alone.

"Hi." Johnny gives a smile.

"I hate you but can you make sure my whole back is covered?" I put my back to him so he rubs in all around my back.

"I'm surprised you aren't uncomfortable in this situation with someone you barely know." He says still touching my back.

"People hook up with someone they met in a bar one random night, right? Our situation is just weirder." I look back at him.

"You make a good point. Plus you know you work with a cast full of guys so I'm sure your gonna see some dicks at some point. I also respect how respectful you are. Not once have you looked down even for a second." He laughs.

"You're supposed to keep eye contact when having a conversation with someone." I say what he told me earlier making him smile.

"Well this is one bonding experience for us." He changes the topic.

"This already made us super close."

When he was done he gets out putting a towel around his waist. "I'm gonna get fully undressed now because I got tomato in my bra." I let Johnny know.

"Don't worry, I'll be respectful too." He turns his back to me.

I quickly wash the rest of myself before turning off the water so he hands me a towel. "Thank you."

I get out and we both just look at each other. "Are they gonna bring us clothes?" I ask so he opens the door calling out for our clothes.

"Did something happen?" Jeff laughs handing us clothes.

"No, he got out and I took off the rest in the shower then got out." I take the clothes going to change first.

Back at the office Chris asked what happened to my original outfit. "Skunk ass hugged me and rubbed himself all over me so we had to take a shower together." I say as Caiden hangs onto my waist.

"Together?" Chris looks at us.

"I was fully in the nude, she was semi with her bra and underwear till I got out." Johnny adds.

"Well once she sees your dick you're automatically best friends." Chris motions between us.

"I'm elementary he was peeing outside during recess and I turned the corner and saw him." I explain to Johnny.

"And we became best friends that day." Chris kisses my cheek.

[backupanddoitagain]

Independent Claws

Summary: You are lost in a cycle of avoidance caused by a painful past. Peter shepherds you towards a happier future.

Pairing: Peter Parker X Reader; written as mostly Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Alcoholism (mention), Hurt/Comfort, Language, Mature situations, etc, etc Minors DNI

*Reblogs, reblogs, reblogs, and likes are great. Please do not post, copy or transfer to other sites on social media or use with AI.*

Chapter One: Tense

Your skin appears orange under the glow of the street lamps as you chain the rusty bicycle to the fence railing and tread softly down the street. A mental image of black gloves, left sitting on a desk back home, taunts the only part of you uncovered. "Idiot," you mutter to yourself, looking down at your hands, balling them into fists. It isn't the weather for which the gloves are necessary, although your breath frosts in the night air. You need stealth. But at least the navy blue hoodie, t-shirt, and pants are dark so you keep on walking, head down, going over your plan in your mind. Going over it and over it as you had done ever since this afternoon when the devil of opportunity presented himself and then your stupid angel conscience sent by your late mother decided to make an appearance to even the score.

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

You had been watching and crushing on Peter Parker since forever, and he often wore sweaters and hoodies back in high school, but over the last few years he seemed to grow warm so quickly and shed them as if he radiated thermal energy beyond what was normal. On the first day when he made eye contact, you'd given him a shy nod of recognition in the college class you shared, surprised he had even remembered the green-eyed classmate from long ago who hugged the walls and lockers always looking for a place to hide, to avoid interaction.

As the semester continued, you tried desperately to remain inconspicuous, unapproachable, but still watching him, wide eyed like a cat in the darkness under a bed. Peering up through your fingers while taking notes in class as he pulled a sweater over his head, watching his thick brown hair go awry and stand up as if he was touching a Van de Graaf Generator at the science museum. Yeah, it shocked you too because sometimes his t-shirt would ride up higher and made your own neck hairs stand up as straight as his hair. But the hoodies, Peter wore those hoodies the most often. They looked so soft, so touchable and when you heard the faint but crisp ziiiiip as he ran his hand down the front and shook his arms out of the sleeves it always made your head turn. Not too fast though. You had learned to be careful. Once, hearing the familiar sound you flicked your eyes up when he removed his navy blue hoodie, which happened to be your personal favorite hoodie, and caught his brown eyes staring straight at you. That was when you dropped your pen just so you could duck to the tile floor, missing his smirk and lifted eyebrow as he shrugged the hoodie over the back of his chair.

The disrobing, as you mentally termed it, became a regular habit and made worse by the quieter nature of the calculus course compared to the mayhem of high school. No class clowns making noise, no troublemakers. Just students watching the professor while taking notes, and you, despite the mental scolding you gave yourself, watching Peter. Any notes you took on him were seared to the back of your eyelids. You rarely spotted him outside of class, even though you had grown up not too far away from his street and you tried very hard not to see him outside of class anyway. What point was there to extend your martyrdom outside of the hour you spent within four walls? You were more than a little ashamed of yourself already. The devil on your shoulder often smiled and said just a little more time when you gazed at Peter's left ear and the brown hair that curled temptingly around it; but the angel on your right gave you that sad somber look that made it clear Peter Parker wasn't for the likes of you. Not when he had been in love with Gwen, who was an angel on earth and now an angel in heaven, and not now, with your feral attitude and your heart hardened against anyone who might try and lure you to comfort and safety. That was what that hoodie symbolized if you'd bothered to analyze it. Maybe you were aware of that in some remote way, but it was like the craft store heart-shaped cardboard box you had painted for your mother when you were a child. You kept those thoughts hidden away in a part of you that hurt too much to look at. Just like that paper scrap and photo filled box, the only thing you’d kept of your mom after she passed away. You couldn't touch either where you'd hidden them; you couldn't look at them, it kept everything remote and cold and manageable.

Perhaps, just perhaps, it was your mother sending an angel friend that placed the opportunity before you, although you scarcely believed in heaven, not anymore. Or maybe there was some cosmic electric charge that rearranged and short circuited Peter's brain so that he left the hoodie, the navy blue one, resting on the back of his chair when the class ended. You didn't notice at first, you were staring at the back of his head as he walked toward the door along with everyone else, while you were busy memorizing the muscles that ran across his shoulders. Shoulders and biceps that you just then realized you could see as his short t-shirt sleeves pulled tight across them. But most likely it was that wild devil that forced your eyes to cut to Peter's vacated chair and there was the hoodie, forgotten. A quick glance to the door of the classroom revealed he had disappeared.

Without a word, you snatched the hoodie to your chest and left quickly, searching around the building exit for Peter but with no sign of him, the choice was made with no regret. You scurried silently down the hallway and went straight into the restroom where you stuffed the hoodie into your backpack. Five minutes later you were on your bicycle pedaling home with a hoodie, a backpack, and a devil of a grin on your face.

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

Home is where you should be right now, not in the shadows creeping down an alley by Peter Parker's house in an attempt to do the right thing. After sitting in your upstairs room while your dad was somewhere out drinking himself into a bitter and vengeful stupor, you had lost the battle with your conscience. Your dad's worldview had always been finders keep, losers weep. Even if he was never around any more now than he was when your mom got sick, somehow he hadn't been quite able to make his the world owes you something kid type of logic stick with you either, another disappointment that he never failed to point out.

No matter how you tried to justify it, no matter how much you wanted just some thing to hold, to wrap around you, never mind some one, you could not keep what was never yours. Stupid old hoodie you told yourself as you put your arms on your knees and breathed in the essence of Peter in the soft fabric. That scent almost broke you... almost. It felt like what home could be when there were warm hearts and hands that comfort each other. When tired eyes were allowed to close because there was no need for a wild-eyed wakefulness that danger downstairs had crossed the threshold drunk and delirious. That thought, the thought of a different disappointment, that the example of how to do the right thing had been forgotten was why you were tiptoeing past a run down garage to reach an old beat up car so that you could return Peter's hoodie. It may have been a stupid plan by someone who couldn't seem to muster the courage just to hand it to Peter the next time class met, but then again it was academic not emotional intelligence that was supposed to be your asset anyway. Your intelligence being the academic asset that was to get you a degree and take you far away from the warm memories and cold reality. Far away from watching what the one you could never have. At least that is what you told yourself as you stopped at Aunt May's car. You had only met her a few times, crossing paths at the store, picking up medicine for your mother. May had asked after her and your look of surprise at her knowledge didn't go unnoticed but her eyes were soft and kind, not unlike Peter's.

The lights were on in their house; maybe in the kitchen and an upstairs bedroom. You were confident from years of climbing up and down stairs silently in your own home that none of the neighbors had heard you in the alley, and perhaps that made you careless. The plan was to leave the hoodie in Aunt May's car, a place where anyone might forget a hoodie. Since the car was an older model it probably didn't have an alarm, at least you hoped it didn't. You also hoped it wasn't locked, but that hadn't occurred to you until just now. Too late. You stood there for a minute, just a minute; the brief thrill of having the coveted hoodie and its symbolic aura now fading as you pulled back the hood and tugged the zipper down, not thinking about the ziiiiip.

One last soothing stroke of the soft fabric and the hoodie was in your hand, ready to toss in the front seat. One tug on the driver's side handle and whew, it wasn't locked when...

"In the future, if you're going to steal cars, you really shouldn't dress like a car thief."

Out of the shadows stepped Spider-Man.

Shit. You are in trouble.

To be continued...

A/N: Please let me know if I left off any warnings you think would better serve readers.

[simply-un-well]

school has been brutal, but finally got the chance to write some more !! intro to some of the team + heat exhaustion. requests are open, but i was thinking about doing a motion sickness one next ! or maybe an oc intro, who knows

-

A sharp whistle echoed around the field, drawing the attention of the players. It's boiling outside, but for some horrid reason, Coach has decided that today would be a perfect day to do stamina training. As the team starts to gather around, he explains the plan for today's practice.

"Okay, I know that it's still relatively early into this year, so we're going to start conditioning your bodies. This exercise will count as both endurance training and a bonding exercise with your teammates," he recites. "In this park, there's a five-mile trail-"

There's an outbreak of murmuring after that, five miles isn't too bad normally, but in this heat? Jason groans audibly before getting elbowed in the side by Blake. Glaring he gestures for Jason to shut up.

Coach claps to get their attention back on him. "Yes, I know it's hot out, but you're going to be playing in heat like this during some of your games. I'll be dividing all of you up into groups. You will introduce yourself to each other and run the trail together."

Jason sighs, tuning Coach out as he begins to read off the names of each group. Blake and him are the only two first years that he knows of so far. Running with upperclassmen just doesn't seem that fun, but at least they might not-

"Tucker, Ackers, Salem, Hakashis," Coach calls out. Jason glances to the side, meeting Blake's eyes and sighing exasperatedly. Of course, it's their luck to get out in the same group.

It takes them a minute to find who else is in their group, only figuring it out when one of the taller guys waves them over. He's the second tallest of the three people huddled together, with tan skin and brown hair. The other two have the same black hair and cream-coloured skin.

Nudging Blake, Jason frowns. "Wasn't only four last names called out?" His question earns him an eye roll before Blake pushes past, leaving him to catch up.

"I'm guessing you two are first years?" The guy who waved them over smiles at them. "Name's Tavin, most people on the team call me Tavi. I'm a fourth-year student."

Nudging the taller guy next to him, Tavi gestures for him to go next. The guy shakes his head amused before introducing himself. "Jesse, fourth year, technically captain. It's good to see some new people on the team."

Jason grimaces internally, it's just his luck to be placed with the one guy he's hated for most of his life, and two fourth years, where one of them happens to be the captain. Before either Blake or him can introduce themselves, the third person standing there cuts in.

"Ace Hakashi, they/them, third year, unfortunately, related to the captain." That makes a lot more sense as to why there were only four names called out.

"You're just annoyed that you have to listen to me," Jesse smirks before turning back to Jason and Blake. "What are your names?"

Jason glances at Blake before hesitantly speaking up. "Jason or Jay, either or works, first year." His face feels hot with embarrassment as he trails off shrugging slightly, unsure of what else to say.

"Blake, first year," his voice is careful, introduction straight to the point.

Tavi nods before smiling. "Have either of you run this trail before?" Two shakes of the head from both first years. He grins, "You'll love this trail. It's not super hard or anything!"

Jason can't help but feel a little eager, he's always been a pretty big runner. Same with Blake, the two of them constantly competing against each other for speed.

"-we're probably going to go at a bit of a slower speed to warm up in the beginning." Jason tunes back into what Jesse was saying. "If anyone in the group needs to slow down, take a water break, or anything, let everyone else know so that we can adjust accordingly." There's a few nods of acknowledgment before he seems satisfied.

Jason spends the next few minutes lost in thought as the third and fourth years talk amongst each other a bit. Occasionally Blake or him would chime in when prompted. Eventually, Coach calls their group over to start running.

They take off and it's smooth for a little bit. They're all sweating like crazy even before five minutes have passed. The sun is brutal, but thankfully most of the trail has little periodic bits of shade every five to ten feet.

All five of them end up settling into a formation of sorts. Jesse and Tavin are in the lead, as they're both accustomed to this sort of training. Ace is slightly behind them, but it seems willing like they just don't want to be running next to their brother. This leaves both Blake and Jason in the back of the group.

The two of them are engaged in a familiar silent competition of who can keep up the best. Their teammates, having more practice with these types of workouts, can hold a faster speed throughout. This leaves the two of them to try and keep up the best they can.

Sweat drips into Jason's eyes as he keeps running. Calves burning as they pass the two-mile marker. He's always had a rather low heat tolerance, so as much as he loves running, this is starting to feel like his own personal hell. Out of the corner of his eyes, he can see Blake starting to speed up a little, maintaining the gap behind Ace.

Jason glares at him before speeding up a little faster. From there a push and pull begins where every time one of them would speed up, the other would too. His mouth is dry, chest burning from exertion, but at the same time, Jason is far too stubborn to call it quits or ask for a break.

Blake glances over at him as they pass the four-mile mark. Slowing down a little, his face holds a weird expression. "Ace," he calls out. They turn their head slightly, indicating that they heard him. "Can we break?"

Jason snorts quietly. "Are you really that tired already?" It feels like a small victory to have Blake ask for a rest of some sort despite the blistering heat being a pretty valid reason.

Blake rolls his eyes in response but doesn't engage verbally. Everyone in the group slows down to a stop, ducking into the shade. Jesse looks slightly concerned, eyes lingering over each person in the group.

"Is everything alright?" He frowns worriedly, shoving Tavin when he starts making mom jokes at him.

Blake nods. "Just a bit hot. Needed a few minutes."

Taking advantage of the break, Jason leans his back against the tree that all five of them are under. It is hot. The ground practically looks like it's swimming from the heat. Wiping his sweat off his face with his shirt, he closes his eyes trying to imagine that it's cooler out than this.

It feels like it's all too soon before the break is over, Jesse and Tavin start to move out from under the tree, followed closely by Blake. Jason opens his eyes before pausing, the world spinning underneath him. It's disorienting and he blinks rapidly to try and get rid of the feeling.

He feels exhausted all of a sudden, leaning more heavily against the tree. Ace glances over at him before freezing, looking over him more closely. "Hey, Jason, are you okay?" The question brings the attention of the other three to how he's slumped against the tree.

Jason only manages to lift his head, vision swirling, before doubling over his knees gagging. Vomit splatters the grass in front of his running shoes. Tavi stands there a bit shocked by what just happened.

Quick to move, Ace is there to support Jason right before his knees give on the next retch. Vomit splashes into the growing puddle. There's a choked gurgling noise before he opens his mouth, sick pouring from it like a faucet, too out of it to properly heave.

Jesse checks his pulse before frowning. "It's too fast. Probably heat exhaustion." Moving his arms to help support Jason a bit better, he pauses for a second. "Tav, Ace, finish the run and let Coach know what's going on. We're not going to be able to carry him back. Ace, stay with Coach. Tav, get cold water then come back."

Both of them are quick to nod before dashing off at a faster pace than before. Blake hovers around, unsure of what to do before hesitantly crouching down where they are.

Jesse keeps a hand firmly pressed on Jason's back, a grounding presence that he appreciates. The world is spinning off-kilter and he just feels bad. "Blake, you feeling okay?" Jesse asks cautiously, unsure if he should have sent him back too.

He receives a brief nod of confirmation. "I'm fine. Jason has a worse tolerance to heat."

As if he heard his name, Jason glances over. There's vomit clinging to his lips and his eyes are unfocused. He squints before jerking slightly. Jesse is quick to push him forward between his knees just in time for him to add to the puddle in front of him.

"M'gonna pass out," he slurs and it's the only warning they get before Jason slumps to the side, falling into Blake.

A few minutes pass by in silence, Jesse rubbing circles onto Jason's back as Blake lets him lean on him despite their rivalry. It feels like forever before Tavin returns. He's panting heavily from sprinting there and back, cold water in hand. Passing it to Jesse, he frowns at the way Jason's limp against Blake.

"Passed out," Jesse explains briefly as he presses the cold water bottle to Jason's neck, passing it to Blake so that he can hold the bottle in place while he gets the update.

Tavin nods worriedly. "Ace should be here with Coach in a few minutes. We just need to keep him alive until then." Looking over the two youngest members of their team sat together under the shade of the tree. Blake who has a weird mix of annoyance and worry on his face, Tavin smirks. "Shouldn't be too hard."

Looking over, Jesse pauses. "Yeah, shouldn't be too hard."

[tomcat-radio]

Some disjointed thoughts on the bathroom scene/needle in the hay scene from The Royal Tenenbaums (2001)

ok first up, major tw for suicide/suicide attempt, and spoiler for The Royal Tenenbaums (do I need to spoiler warning for a movie from 20+ years ago, I don't know). If you haven't seen the Royal Tenenbaums go watch it and come back to this, hell, watch it twice if you want.

I geniunely believe the bathroom scene from The Royal Tenenbaums is one of the most interesting and important scenes in Wes Anderson's entire portfolio. It might seem insigificant if you watch his movies from oldest to newest, but if you go backwards you might notice some stuff. A lot of the darker moments of his films are still coated in a layer of whimsy and a lot of his typical aestheticism, especially in his newer stuff. Not that that's a criticism at all. But when you look at the bathroom scene it has this unique rawness to it that I've never really seen anywhere else in all his movies. It feels like all of the layers that his characters tend to sheild their emotions with have suddenly and viscerally been ripped away. And the visuals of this scene contribute to it too, it's two things not often seen in Wes Anderson movies: very saturated and somewhat dark/has dimmer lighting. The bathroom feels so out of place in a way that really makes you sit up and go "oh shit, something's happening", the music too, not only does the song choice never fail to make me sob, but the way it stays quiet as Richie stares into the camera and cuts his hair off, and at the final moment of tentsion as his life flashes infront of his eyes the background music slowly grows louder, climaxing as he bleeds onto the tiles before finally stopping abruptly.

The scene itself is truly one of the best scenes Wes Anderson has under his belt too, despite bringing me closer to tears every single time I happen to watch it. Something that'll always stick in my mind is the exact moment Richie Tenenbaum takes off his glasses, the first time in almost the whole film where we properly see his eyes. Richie is a character that has been hiding, both literally seperating himself on humanity by living on a boat for the last four years before the beginning of the film, but also mentally. He's clearly bottling up all his emotions and problems throughout the film (symbolised by the sunglasses, long hair, beard, even margot's line "stand up straight, let me get a look at you") until he cracks under the weight of them and we get, well, the bathroom scene. Seeing his eyes not only, as the saying goes, gives us a window into his soul, but also truly communicates the amount of pain he's in. Pain that's beyond margot, beyond Royal's betrayal of him, and deep within himself.

Richie never finishes shaving, and in my opinion it's a nod to the fact that he himself as a person is unfinished, unresolved, incomplete. Even his plans lay incomplete with the death that would have met him if he wasn't found by Dudley. His only line in the scene is simply "I'm going to kill myself tomorrow" unfinished because well, he tries to that day. Richie to me is one of the most interesting characters in the movie, if not the most. I didn't think that on my first watch-through, but as I watched the movie again and again it quickly became my opinion. He's someone who unlike Chas and Margot is holding onto an idealised version of his childhood, still mentally stuck there and unwilling to believe Royal as a bad person because of the blurred vision of him that he saw as a kid. His concept of human connection is as equally broken as Margots but instead of filling the empty abyss left by it with unpassionate affairs such as her, he cuts himself off from society, and once he's ripped away from and pulled back into the very family he always thought of as a perfect world he breaks just a little more.

I find his relationship with Margot very interesting too, as I don't belive it's simply a case of "these two flawed people are doing something socially unacceptable because they're flawed". Infact, from Richie's point of view I don't even believe it's romantic. Margot and Richie clearly became codependent on eachother from a very young age due to the childhood they were put through by Royal and to a lesser extent Etheline, and as they grew into emotionally broken people with twisted ideas of love and connection they mistook their relationship for romantic love instead of a platonic relationshop, because that's the only way they know to express a close platonic relationship. Being reuinited with Margot is the only thing keeping Richie together throughout the film and when he learns of all her infidelity he unravels immediately something that was hinted at, began to slip through when Richie puts his hand through the bird cage after Raleigh shares with him his suspicions of margot cheating, he's lost his last coping mechanism in other words.

And so we return again to the bathroom scene, hopefully this helped whoever may be reading it appreciate such a tragic scene a little more, or maybe it just made it sadder, I'm not sure. Stay safe out there and remember that help is always available and things will get better.

[elcorhamletlive]

Yeah sorry for asking byl3r questions again and filling your page, but yeah I agree. I think one of the things that makes me not vibe with Byl3rs' thoughts is that, they say Mike has been leading El on since S2 or at least since S3, and that he never actually loved El romantically, he's just been with her to hide his sexuality and be 'Normal' and he continued to be with her because that's what she wanted. They're saying it would make sense because 'gay people go through this all the time in real life so it is realistic', but i think they do not get the narrative. El is like you said, the show's protagonist. Having one of the hero guys (Mike) lie to her for 3 seasons straight about loving her and lying to her for basically years would just take a lot of time to wrap up and it just messes up the characters. It simply makes no sense. Especially when they made El get strength from Mike's words.

And thats where a lot of Bylrs logic falls IMHO because they have to come up with contrived narrative reasons and bend the story to make bylr make sense within the show. Because as it stands, bylr makes no sense. So for that reason, they have to come up with contrived reasons or not-likely-to-happen scenarios. It's laughable to expect that Mike will say he's never loved El romantically and he's been lying to her and lied in his monologue. That's just not what you do as writers to the show's protagonist... and it makes no sense for the characters either.

They also use 'Mike and El will move on from each other during the time skip' argument but by that logic, it makes more sense for Will to move on from Mike in that time and find another love interest. Actually it's like a perfect narrative setup, but ofc they don't entertain that idea bc for them 'it's bylr or not'. They do actually lack any real engagement with the canon source of the show too IMHO because their wish fulling thinking prevents them from coming up with fitting expectations. And at that point one might ask, why should bylr even happen if it is happening in the show's last season at the last second?

Yeah, pretty much. The thing about the "realism" argument is that it doesn't hold true in a manufactured narrative. In real life, yes, it's totally possible that a young boy could behave exactly like Mike does towards El for four seasons and still be gay, because you never really know what is going on in someone else's head. But in fiction, character arcs need to be shown to the audience. Even if Mike himself wasn't able to admit to his sexuality yet, the viewers, at large, should be able to tell the storyline is taking place - like they can with Will.

Re: the time skip, I think B*lers assume everyone else is as immediately willing to have Mike and El break up as they are. Now, I'm not a M1leven shipper, and I don't think the audience would, like, quit the show en masse if they broke up, but it would confuse a lot of people. I think most viewers would be left wondering why so much time was spent in the relationship in the first place, if they were never meant to last.