#by do their thing i need them to somehow magic my parents into letting me have some tonight

[rainbluealoekitten]

being pagan is awesome because sometimes you're doing elaborate rituals with blood offerings to a being who might be older than earth, and then the rest of the time you could be trying to convince your ancestors that they could have cider offerings if they ✨ do their thing ✨ to get you some

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Seeing a post about the secondary school you attended and its extreme rules really gives war flashbacks, I swear.

[sugoroo]

warnings. fem!reader, oral (f receiving), face-sitting, ruined orgasm, satoru gojo is his own warning, 18+ minors dni.

thinking about absolutely insufferable boyfriend satoru gojo who always ruins your incoming orgasms by saying the corniest, most unserious things during sex.

picture him splayed across the bed, messy white locks stuck to his forehead with sweat and uncovered cerulean eyes clouded over with lust as you slowly lower yourself onto his awaiting mouth.

"mhm, that's it, baby," he's cooing, pale hands snaking around your thighs to help you stay upright as he impatiently pulls your pliant body down quicker onto his face. "sit riiight here."

and you're letting off a surprised squeak when he barely gives you a single moment to adjust to the new position before his full, grinning lips are planting a wet, obnoxious kiss right against your sappy folds.

"toru!" you giggle involuntarily, hips wriggling against his face as he continues placing such shameless, sloppy pecks against your sensitive skin — he's acting like a horny teenager making out with a girl for the first time, except in this case the girl is your pussy.

satoru's stupidly dopey smile never fades as he takes in your reactions to his ministrations, each whine and cute laugh just encouraging him to act even more ridiculous.

so he's flicking out his freakishly long tongue, gifting you with little kitten licks that are just barely enough to make your insides tingle but not enough to give you any real sense of pleasure.

and you rock against his face in search of the friction he knows you so desperately need, brows pinched in frustration and lower lip pushed out into an unconscious pout.

"aww, is this not enough for my pretty girl?" satoru chuckles, feigning obliviousness as he watches you restlessly grind into him — he just can't help that he loves seeing you like this, all needy and annoyed with his teasing.

"y-you know it's not," you grumble out, aiming what you hope is perceived as a scolding glare down at him as your fruitless wriggling slowly comes to a halt. "come on... please, toru?"

"now there's the magic word i was waiting for!" he cheers overdramatically, like a proud parent complimenting their child for finally using their manners like they were taught.

you roll your eyes in exasperation, but the action quickly morphs into one of them rolling backwards in pleasure when satoru finally drags his tongue properly through your sticky folds.

and you're rambling out various breathless 'thank you's, pent-up body relaxing onto his mouth as he begins to eat you out like he would've been doing from the beginning if he didn't enjoy making you work for it so much.

he's so unbelievably good at it too, wet lips peppering loving kisses against your cunt before he delves that lengthy tongue inside of your fluttering hole, effortlessly reaching your sweet spot without even having to try.

and you both know it's not long before you're going to fall apart, the thrust of the wet muscle in and out of you and the frequent pauses he takes to suck your puffy clit into his hot mouth just too delicious.

but just when you begin to feel that familiar feeling rising in the depths of your stomach, the metaphorical string of pleasure coiled tight and ready to snap at any moment, satoru just has to spoil it.

"yeahh, can tell you're close, baby." he groans into your pussy, the rumbling vibrations only adding to the colourful sensations coursing through your veins. "gonna cum for me?"

and you're nodding furiously, not even bothering to attempt to speak because there's no doubt in your mind that the words would end up sounding completely incomprehensible.

"mhm? gonna cum all over the strongest's face?" satoru adds in an exaggeratedly loud and sarcastic moan, the ridiculously corny words somehow managing to break through the fragile glass of your incoming orgasm, shattering it into a million pitiful pieces right before your eyes.

"g-god. why are you like this, gojo?" you groan in frustration, the haze of pleasure slowly but surely evaporating from your mind and leaving only a pathetic feeling of emptiness lingering in its place.

satoru just smirks smugly, shrugging as if he doesn't have a single care in the world and flicking his tongue back out to clear your glistening juices away from his lips. "like what?"

scowling in annoyance, you waste no time in swatting his hands away from your thighs and lifting your shaky hips away from his soaked face, rolling off of him and searching around the bedcovers for your panties.

"w-wait, baby, where are you going?" he mutters hurriedly, his entire face draining of all its colour as he watches you preparing to leave — it would almost be laughable how quickly he can go from teasing to pathetic in mere moments if you weren't so pissed off with him right now.

"to find someone who doesn't say shit like that when i'm about to cum." you state simply, tugging your underwear back up your legs before making a show of heading towards the bedroom door.

satoru is scrambling off of the mattress in seconds, almost tripping over himself in his determination to stop you in your tracks. "no, don't go, pretty girl! i was just joking around— h-hey... i'll make you cum as many times as you want if you stay, promise!"

...and that's the story of how you finally made your insufferable boyfriend satoru gojo learn his lesson.

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

[mischievousmoony]

hello ! i saw that you were open for requests. could you do sick reader and james being the best bestfriend ever (and oblivious as hell) takes care of them? maybe they could be childhood friends so james doesn't realize that what he's doing in inherently romantic, like kissing reader's forehead to check their temp, giving his shoulder to them to lay on, sleeping in the same bed, and such.

AND even after reader is no longer sick, james still insist on spoon feeding them and acting like a helicopter mom.

- 🌱

what a lovely idea! thank you for the request <3 i love this because earlier this summer i had a nasty sinus infection for like 3 weeks :/ i wish i had a james potter then lol also i noticed you used they/them pronouns in ur req. im not sure if you wanted gn!reader, but i think it ended up being that way anyway. i didn't need to use pronouns, or even y/n, in this fic <3

𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.4k ⟢ warnings/tags: fluff, no use of y/n, no magic

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It was only an hour ago that you told James over the phone not to worry about you.

Now, he stands in your bedroom, having let himself into your flat with the spare key that you that keep at his parents' house for emergencies— which he uses very often, but hardly for emergencies.

"James," you complain in a nasally voice, "I'm going to get you sick."

He plants his hands on his hips and looks at you scrutinizingly. It reminds you of Euphemia when she would scold you and James as children, and truthfully, when she sometimes scolds you these days.

"Nonsense, my immune system is built like a tank."

"James," you whine further.

He ignores you as he approaches your bedside, frowning as he takes in your sickly appearance. He gently brushes away the sweat-drenched hair from your forehead.

"My poor thing," he comments before bending down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"You don't feel terribly warm, but you look flushed," James' wrist swivels to press the back of his hand to your cheek, "Do you feel hot?"

"A- a little," you croak, knowing full well that a raging blush is the real culprit behind your reddening face.

James' frown deepens as he dives into his next area of concern, "Have you been eating? You hardly had anything in your fridge."

"I have enough peanut butter and jelly to get me through an apocalypse. Why were you in my fridge?"

"I had to put away the groceries."

Your eyebrows draw together, "What groceries!?"

"I bought you groceries," he says nonchalantly.

"Why would you buy me groceries!?"

James is suddenly sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck, "It's not much. Mostly ingredients for the chicken soup I'm gonna make."

"Make? If you really must you could've just gotten a can of–"

"Eugh! I would never subject you to canned soup!"

You roll your eyes at his dramatics.

"That processed shit is just going to make you feel worse," he adds.

"Does Effie know she's created a monster?" you mumble to the ceiling.

James' chuckles, "Look, I'm already here, I've already bought the food. Just let me make you a nice soup and then I'll get out of here." James raises his hands in the air to indicate his surrender to compromise.

Your head hurts too much to continue an argument that you know you won't win, so you relent and wave him off to the kitchen.

Before James leaves you, "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything before I go?"

"I'm fine."

"You sound stuffy. Is there a lot of pressure? Do you like a hot or a cold compress?"

You wince as you imagine a cold compress, feeling like that would make your headache somehow feel sharper against your brain.

"Hot."

James smiles, happy that you're beginning to give into his care, and disappears from your sight.

He returns with a warm, damp cloth and a paper shopping bag stuffed under his arm. He starts unloading his haul onto your night table.

"I brought you the nice tissues, the ones with the lotion so that they don't irritate your nose. And are you taking medicine? I wasn't sure what your symptoms were or what you usually take so I got stuff for everything. I've got nasal sprays, decongestants, cough syrups— which I'm pretty sure you hate so I bought lozenges too."

You watch despairingly as he sets medicine after medicine down.

"I took paracetamol an hour ago," you inform him.

"That's it? You could at least use the nasal spray then. Here, let me–"

You place a hand over his that fiddles with the cap of the spray, "I've got it. Just go make your soup."

James looks up from the little white bottle, "Oh yeah, sure." But he hesitates before he goes, "You want a lozenge though?"

You yield to James' incessant efforts, figuring he would feel better if you let him do something for you. You hold out your hand to accept the lozenge but as soon as he sees you nod, he is already set on removing its waxy wrap and popping it in your mouth himself.

At last, he presses the warm, damp cloth gently over your closed eyes and retreats to your kitchen.

He reappears every so often to rewarm the cloth that's over your eyes, bring you cups of water or herbal tea, and make sure that you're still comfortable. He's offered to fluff your pillows five times.

The next time he enters your bedroom, he's finally carrying a bowl of steaming soup, one of your dishcloths a barrier between his hands and the hot porcelain.

You sit and hold out your hands to accept the bowl.

"Oh, it's far too hot for you to hold," James says, choosing to ignore the fact that he is doing just fine holding it himself.

He plants himself on the edge of your bed and starts blowing on a spoonful of the savory soup.

"You can't be serious," you mutter, sniffling.

"Just lean back and relax," James instructs, "let me take care of you."

James looks at you with the roundest, most doe-like eyes can can muster. Oh, those stupid big brown eyes— it's impossible to resist them.

You let James feed you what just might be the best soup you've ever tasted. Rich flavors dance on your tongue and you try not to let your eyes flutter closed in bliss, but the enjoyment is written across your face anyway. He refrains from teasing you, feeling too much pity for your being unwell to make any fun.

"Is this helping any?" James checks, blowing on another spoonful of broth.

You hum affirmatively, "It's really nice," you murmur, letting the warmth of the soup spread across your chest.

A prideful smile finds its way onto James' lips.

After he he scrapes the last bit of soup onto the spoon and brings it to your mouth, he places the empty bowl onto your night table. You realize that you still need to thank him and you share words of gratitude as you wring out your neck.

"You alright?"

"A bit stiff from being cooped up in bed," you roll out your shoulders.

"Well, you needed your rest," James says, studying you. "Here, scoot up."

You look at him curiously as he helps you scoot forward. When he starts settling in behind you, your eyes round.

"James!"

You've lost count of how many times you've uttered his name in scolding today. Your face flushes crimson and you count yourself lucky that he at least can't see it this time.

James shushes you, and your protests die in your throat when his hands apply a satisfying pressure to your neck.

He can't help but chuckle, nor can he help seek your approval, "Helping?"

"Uh-huh," you sigh, your eyes fluttering closed, and you feel James' body rumble with laughter against you.

The coming days play out similarly, and you've quickly ceased protesting against him. James attends to your every need and casually showers you in affection day after day.

He even insists on staying over some nights, which you do protest against, as he means to sleep on your couch which is not even long enough for him to lay flat. But you need not worry about that, because when night falls he ends up dozing off next to you in bed, where he intended to only stay until you fell asleep.

In the mornings, neither of you seem to mind waking up in each others arms.

Within a few days, your health improves, but this doesn't stop James from continuing to tend to you.

"I haven't run a fever in days!" you protest as James' lips still against your forehead for several seconds.

"You never know," James mumbles against your forehead before pulling away.

You huff as you meet his eyes on his retreat, "I'm not sick anymore, James."

"You still sniffle sometimes," he shrugs, turning to collect the empty bowl on your night table, which he fed you fresh stew out of for lunch this afternoon.

You chuckle at his antics, "It's just a lingering sniffle, it will probably clear up by tomorrow. Besides, I hardly need someone taking care of me for that."

James pulls his lips into a timid line, feeling quite sheepish. He hides his face as he turns to leave your room with the dirty dish.

He tsks as he formulates an excuse for himself, "Or it means that your illness is coming back for a second round. What kind of friend would I be if I don't make sure it's gone before I set you loose?"

James makes his way to the kitchen to wash your dishes, seemingly unaware that he might enjoy taking care of you a bit more than a friend would. Or maybe he’s simply embraced the comfort of being exactly where he wants to be.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[oh-no-its-bird]

Look all I'm saying is that if I were going to make a minecraft movie.

Well, first off I'd put down the first person to even reccomend we do it in cgi. Not just because it looks objectively terrible and half of the magic and nostalgia factor of minecraft is in its texture but holy shit budget much??? You are literally looking at a situation where the cheaper option is also objectively the better option. What the fuck are you doing

But I mean, after that.

Second off, all my writers must watch popular smps and minecraft roleplays/let's plays to understand the "magic" of the game. That's how we're studying for this, not the game books or whatever. Those guys are clearly doing smthn right, and as the executive/writer who knows very little about mineraft that I am in this hypothetical scenario, I need to do my best to make money. And that means learning what people like about the game and community.

Maybe even bring on some popular (non controversial please god) smp writers for consulting. They literally make minecraft movies as their fucking job, they are the expert u need to consult

Story wise, you NEED to choose if you wanna play this straight or silly. I'm so sick of movies trying to be all emotional and "ohh this world is so beautiful,, if u could only understand,, woaa" with their epic sound track and dramatic lighting, but then the dialogue being ripped out of a stupid marvel knockoff trying too hard to be witty

Anyways. Give me a generic "kid has a hard life and uses [thing] to escape it but then their parent trashes [thing] to teach them a "lesson"" movie.

The thing is minecraft and this kid is totally in love with letsplays and smps and has a server with their online friends (get a sponsorship from discord for that good good film sponsorship money, have them play while in call)

The mom or dad or maybe both trash the kids computer for some reason (bad grades maybe or one of those shitty "you need to talk to us more!!! That computer is killing ur brain!!! You don't love us as much as you should and it's that damn games fault!!!" But like it's actually just a kid being a normal fucking kid and having normal fucking kid hobbies things and the parents are dicks)

They delete the minecraft world rip

Them boom, kid somehow gets stuck in the game

Switch to NON CGI FILMING IN MINECRAFT. If you really need to add your stupid shitty fucking cgi then at least make it look like an ACTUAL MINECRAFT ANIMATION holy shit

It'll save us so much money too

So main plot is this kid, being trapped in minecraft, actually falling through different minecraft servers.

We can have different cameos from popular smps and youtubers, get some old youtubers and gameplay in here too. Get fucking dantdm and the diamond minecarts og series with the lab thing, it'll make the old fans lose their fucking MINDS.

The youtubers themselves don't even have to show up, just shove the kid into settings that are clear references to smps and letsplays. Have them wander through Aphmau's OG minecraft diaries sets or Sundee's lucky block series

The best part is that as backdrops, you don't even have to fully commit to "you'll only get this/find this interesting if you know these guys" bc if your writing is good enough you can still make people care by just. Introducing it correctly. Don't present it as "Aphmau's old minecraft diaries series world" go "oh wow look st this cool village,, woah I wonder who built this ,," And have them interact with NPCs organically

Meanwhile the parents go into the game after the kid to bring them back and we do this whole world hopping adventure where the parents learn that,, minecraft can be fun? Actually?

They find the kid and the kid is like "nooo I'm having too much fun the real world SUCKS!!!" but then we do that "it's cool to have fun and indulge but you still need to be present in the real world and do real people things too in order to have that fun responsibly" where somehow the kid realizes that moderation is good for u.

Maybe they almost die in game fr fr? Every world they enter has its difficulty upped a little bit till they enter *gasp* a hardcore world (oh no)

So like the kid learns that you can't just lock yourself in the room and wish the world goes away while you play minecraft for 12 hours straight, and the parents learn that minecraft is cool and fun and can be a good outlet and outlets are important for adults and children alike. And also that they totally pulled a dick move and they need to try to understand their kid instead of just demanding the kid understands them

Somewhere along the way, the kid ends up in their friends server and the friends help to pull them out of the game w the parents

We end the movie with the kid making an effort to be more present with the parents, and the parents also making an effort to interact with the kid in ways that they know the kid will enjoy and respond well to— shown a family dinner scene where the kid very eagerly eats their food while talking about school, then they all go to play minecraft together

The end <3

Oh right and if you seriously want Jack Black there so fucking bad then make him either the dad or like. School computer teacher who helps the kid use Minecraft EU to learn science (shows off that some schools use minecraft for education purposes) who also helps the kids friends pull them and the parents out of the game

Overall, lots of themes not just about how the game is cool and can let you do cool shit, but also about how the community is cool, and how it's provided so many kids and adults outlets to express themselves and have fun together

That's how you do a game movie

Anyways yeah, minecraft movie looks shit. Hire me instead next time

[fangirlingpuggle]

I had an idea for an AU of your "the twins are bill and Fords kids AU"

So bill finds out about the kids before they hatch(?) a bit of time before it happens in your AU Bill basically kind of just remembers "oh shit I did that with Ford I should see if it actually worked"

and then he hatches(?) them and takes them and at first because it's a ✨manipulation opportunity✨ but then oh no at least some parental instinct has emerged as he takes care of them because they're his and they're wonderful

And as they grow they develop personalities and Mabel oh how she reminds Bill so much of himself the little creature of chaos she is

And Dipper reminds him of Ford (and himself too) with that insatiable hunger for knowledge to see the secrets the universe has to offer

(And when Mabel starts becoming a bit boy crazy Bill just tells her that when she's a bit older he'll let her start her own cult)

And instead of creating things with glitter Mable creates things with the stardust her dad stole from the sky when she wanted to bedazzle her scrapbook (and also glitter because it is an item that breeds chaos and that is something Bill approves of)

And Dipper has a journal that never runs out of pages where he writes down the secrets and stories of the universe (both freely given and stolen by Bill)

And they are Bills children because how could they not be they are so fundamentally weird these nigh impossible creations that were made in a drunken haze a combination of magic and science that somehow breaks the laws of both

And Bill dreams of how when the time finally comes he shall finally bring Weirdmageddon

and he'll give them like a 10th of the planet where they can do whatever they want (because he may be a parent but he still likes to party and also doesn't want his kids to accidentally eat some hard drugs so it's basically a dedicated area for the kids where he doesn't have to worry about them too much because sometimes you just need a little you time okay!!!)

And getting back on track with the original plan surely when Ford meets the kids surely he'll at least love them as much as Bill and they can finally play one big happy Family ruling the world together

[In the meantime Ford had no idea any of this was happening didn't even know he had kids so imagine his surprise on Weirdmageddon

(Should Ford even trust these children they are Bills kids not to mention the fact that he's the one who raised them

a part of Ford wants to protect these kids another part of him thinks that Bills spawn shouldn't be trusted shouldn't exist)]

Anyway do you like my idea do you have anything you'd like to add (please say you like it 🥺🥺🥺)

(I just thought this would be a fun AU for your AU I got a bit inspired do you like it? you better like it because you have infected my brain with your ideas it's time I returned a favor with mine)

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!

Bill being so ready to use these kids as pawns and then he sees them and his heart instantly melts and 'I have only had these 2 for a moment and if anything happens to them I will burn the worlds down to the ground'

Him telling Mabel she can start her own cult is hilarious!

Dipper being like him fascinated by things out of his reach like the stars were for Bill and Bill encouraging him and making sure he can get all knowledge he wants.

Them breaking both magic and science is just perfection.

Bill giving hids a part of the world to have fun and sew their own chaos so he can have some me time, 'Ok kiddos go and do some destruction Dad is going to hang out with some friends and make a throne of human suffering ok'

OHH Ford's reaction to them is brilliant him being torn between wanting to protect his kids, but also these kids are Bill's and like him and raised by him. Probably twisted and manipulated by him and what if these kids are a trick a trap just a manipulation... he'd be in full paranoia mode.

This is so awesome!

[seshathawk]

I’d like to address something from season four that I haven’t seen anyone else address yet, though some people have spoken critically of the plots surrounding it.

A quick caveat: this is based off of my own experiences, and is not by any means an attempt to excuse, forgive, or erase any of the many mistakes that season four made. (This is going to be about parenting, for anyone who would like to avoid said topic.)

Hi. I’m the mother to a 4.5 year old child. When I met my husband, we were both working jobs, although he made more than me. I quit my job eventually for reasons that don’t need to be detailed here, and three years later had a baby and ended up being a stay-at-home mom to our child. At the height of the pandemic, I felt this was lucky; we wouldn’t have to scramble to find child care or anything like that.

Two years later, I was absolutely miserable and a completely different person.

Parenthood changes a person. A lot. Like, a lot. You have to sacrifice things, things that used to be important to you, again and again, in order to support your children, and you do it because you love them so much and you want them to succeed.

But something else happens, specifically to women who become parents. Some women intend to go back to work and never do. In some families, it’s cheaper for mom to provide childcare than it is to pay for daycare. Somehow, women end up being the managers of the household and primary caregiver for any/all children, all day, every day. This isn’t to say that these women don’t love their children. But, rather, that women end up carrying the burden of the invisible load for their entire household, including their husbands.

And this also isn’t to say that those husbands aren’t loving, or that they don’t take care of their kids too, or that these women don’t love their husbands. But it’s a huge burden.

Some examples of the invisible load: meal planning, grocery shopping, packing bags for outings or school, managing the family (kids) schedule, arranging for childcare, managing communication with childcare or school, making all appointments for kids or entire family, planning parties, making holiday (Christmas/Easter/4th of July/take your pick) magic, finding activities for kids to do, packing lunches, restocking things like toiletries or pantry staples, cleaning up clutter or getting family/kids to do same, putting away laundry, doing laundry, and…the list goes on. The list is eternal. There is no end to the invisible load.

And when you’re managing all of this and your husband does things like not know if you have a pantry staple at home, isn’t sure where your child’s clean underwear is, or forgets to do something very simple such as grab extra milk, it’s really easy to feel frustrated and resentful.

This is never explicitly stated in The Umbrella Academy, that this is how Lila feels. But it was pretty obvious to me. Her random statements like, “Why are you doing the cake now?” and “I told you to do the pinata two hours ago!” and “This isn’t about you!” felt true to me. Like, OH MY GOD, I do this every day, HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS SO WRONG. And, also, Diego casually says, “Hey, let’s just up and leave just like the old days, the kids will be fine with your family,” without appearing to have ANY IDEA about what goes into planning for kids to stay with relatives for what has to have been at least two days. (Sidebar: I’m not sure if the writers thought that bit through but I definitely read into it that Diego thinks it’ll be easy to slip away while Lila understands the intense logistics of this suggestion.)

So, when Lila said, regarding book club/undercover operations that she just needed something just for herself, I felt that, SO hard. Because you know what happens when you’re a mom? You’re doing the invisible labor and the emotional labor for (in Lila’s case) a family of five. When you finally have some time to yourself, it’s maybe an hour, and your choices are to try to do something relaxing by yourself, spend time with your husband (who you might resent a little), or do something for the house/family. Getting to escape and do something fun, just for you? That’s SO magical.

I do wish we’d seen more of their domestic life together, because I think that could have said a lot about their relationship. But I didn’t think for one second that Lila was unhappy because Diego is never present and never stops complaining, although I’m sure that’s part of it. I saw instantly that she was unhappy because her personhood has been crushed under the weight of motherhood and wifehood and that she was struggling. And that all she wanted—all any of us in similar situations want—is for her husband to understand that and step up, in a way that husbands really don’t understand, because patriarchy.

Does it mean she’d cheat on Diego? Does it mean she’d cheat on him with his brother? Not necessarily. Does it mean she might look for companionship or friendship elsewhere, outside of her family life? Does it mean she might be happy, for a while, living a more adventurous or quiet life, away from the demands of her family? Maybe! Would have been great if the show had explored that a little instead of turning her into part of a love triangle.

But I thought that Lila, burdened with motherhood in a way that Diego cannot ever truly know (because patriarchy), felt true to me and was one of the highlights of season four to me.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Breakfast

George Weasley x Reader

Summary: It was finally the weekend, which meant rest for you. Not so much for George, but that wasn’t an issue. He loved his job. Regardless, early mornings can be lonely. Luckily, he always does open the store later in the day. So today, you THREE get to spend time together. You, Georgie, and little Freddy

((Btw yes I’m using ASL instead of BSL. It’s easier to get accurate with research, and it can help teach more people to!))

“WHOOPSIE-!” Certainly a concerning word, in any house hold. Was what made you wake up. You didn’t want to, but oh well. The sacrifices every parent makes. George wasn’t in bed with you anyway. No fun being in bed, with out someone to cuddle.

You would pull yourself out of bed, while steal your husbands sleep robe, and proceed to try and figure out why your son was going Whoopsies. Because if he’s saying that, something’s probably on fire. Or exploded. Or currently trying to climb itself out of a trunk.

“Hey, accidents happen. Don’t worry. Here, I’ll clean it up-“ That sweet voice would comfort, as you entered the kitchen. The smell of breakfast heavy in the air, and the windows open to the early morning noise.

What a sight it was. Seeing your handsome husband. That ginger hair all a mess in the early morning. Plaided pants, with hand me down shirt that was somehow surviving from either spite or love. (You bet it’s a mixture of both, with those Weasleys)

Little Freddy himself was in a bright purple pajama set. With the cutest little designs all over it. Just like his uncle, he just adored purple like no other. Like hell you wouldn’t let him enjoy such a color.

Your husband would wave his wand, and repare the broken plate on the ground. Nothing magic couldn’t fix. Seems like the two of them were making breakfast together. George teaching little junior how to cook, and clean. Made your smile, as you leaned on the door frame.

“See? No harm no fowl. You did the right thing, though. The plate was hot, and you let go before it could hurt you.” He would encourage, as to make sure little Freddy knew that everything was alright. Gentle, calm, and soothing. No need for yelling, after all.

“Can you sign Hot-?” He would ask Freddy, as he quickly nodded. His tiny hand would make a claw shape towards him mouth, before turning it away. As if eating an apple, and placing it down.

“That’s right-! Good job-!” George would cheer, as he yanked his son into his arms. Got him to giggle, as he was attacked in kisses. Such a proud father. You swore you might cry. George just adored his son to no end. It reminded you of the many, many, reasons you fell for him.

“Well now, look who’s awake-!” George would smile at you, before your son made grabby hands at you. That was your que, and you happily took it.

You would steal your bouncing baby boy, and pepper him in kisses all the same. A good distraction for George to make the plates for breakfast. Just laughter, and the sizzle of food.

“What has my little trouble maker been doing this morning?” You asked your son, as he gave a big smile. One that echoed the likes of his father. Helped that the ginger curls were over those chubby freckled cheeks.

“Daddy and I made breakfasts together! And he’s teaching me how to sign stuff that means breakfast!” Freddy would giggle, as you gave a wide eyed expression of curiosity. A means to encourage such behavior.

“He’s gotten so good at it. He’s gonna be better the me even. And I’m the deaf guy-!” George would snort, as you rolled your eyes at him.

Did have a point though. Being raised to learn sign language is alot different than having to learn it later in life. Luckily, though, George is far smarter than people give him credit for. Just look at the empire he made. Even with Fred’s help, it’s no easy task.

“We made waffles, and pancakes, and and-“ Freddy would babble on, and you listened to each little word. Cherishing it all, as you helped him sit at the table. Making sure he was secure in his seat, before sitting next to him. With George on the other side of him. Your shared bundle of joy, between his parents.

“You did a good job. It all looks so yummy.” You praised, as you gave his chubby cheek a kiss. Had him giggle, before he grabbed his sippy cup. Happy to enjoy some morning juice, as you reached behind your little boy.

“Just perfect.” You almost whispered, as you held George’s hand. The grip was returned, as he stole your fingers to his lips. Kissing them over, and making you blush all over. As if just an early year again, and admiring his skills on the quidditch team.

“Terrible.” You tease, as he gave an eyebrow wiggle at your manners. Had you snort, before he was quick to lean himself over. Had to make sure his partner got a kiss too. A kiss you oh so happily returned. All to the ‘gross’ babble of your son.

That soon had you both pamper his face in kisses, as he squealed at such an attack. Flailing little fingers, as you made sure he was adored in all the love you two could muster. That was quite alot, mind you.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You asked, as George gave a groan. Had you giggle that he never truly gave up all his childish habits. As if you would want that. You needed to smile, after all.

“Work, work, and more work. Love the job, I do. Wouldn’t trade it for anything, but I wish I could just close the doors for one day…..I mean, I can do exactly that. I’m the boss here. Hm…..Maybe I should do that. ‘Closed for a family picnic’ and all that. Yeah, yeah I should do that-“ He spoke out loud, as he enjoyed his waffle.

“We can see uncle Fred!” Freddy would shout, as you would wipe the syrup off his face. Messy eater he was, but you savored it. Just was nostalgic, after all. A messy eater like when his father was young.

“The cemetery normally has, like, no people this day in the week. That could work, honestly. Just a private little family get together like that.” George nodded, as he showed he liked the idea. Made junior grin, with such pride.

“Sounds like a plan then. A nice picnic to see uncle Fred, and just a day to spend with us three. I love it. Good job.” You would add to George, as Junior was just all smiles. So much like said uncle, but certainly George all the same.

With the plans all set, the three of you enjoyed the breakfast between you all. With plenty of George teasing his boy. With silly faces, and stories of his youth. Was just divine to watch. To see him so happy again.

“All done-!” Freddy would suddenly shout. Was followed by placing both his hands to his chest, before bringing them back to the table. Multiple times, as to practice what the sign meant. Warmed your heart. Smart like his daddy.

“Good job, Freddy. Now, what do we say next?” George would ask, as Freddy had to think. With his little brows furrowed, as he huffed. Trying his best to remember what to sign next.

“We clean….” He muttered, as he gave sign language babble to himself. Trying hard to figure it out, as you both waited. With no rush. No yelling. No pressure. Just waiting, and letting him breathe.

“Clean….” He muttered, as would place his right hand on his left hand. Then he made a swiping motion, as if trying to wipe something off his hands. It wasn’t quite as smooth as it should be, but he still remembered it regardless.

“Got that right. We clean up. Well, try to.” George would give that awkward smile, as you gave him a knowing look. No yelling, like Molly would. George had a bad habit with his messes, but no one is perfect. He had quirks to make up for it. Much like yourself held your own bad, and good, habits the same. The goal was to try and prevent such to junior. The best you could, anyway.

“Yeah-! Clean up!” Freddy nodded, as he would stumble out of his chair. Adorable little waddle was made to the sink, only to realize he was to short. Made him frustrated, as he gave an angry little stomp. As if that would somehow make him grow.

“I’ll never get tired of that.” You sighed, as George nodded. The both of you enjoying the sight of little Freddy trying to figure out how to reach the sink. Just enjoying the moment, while you could.

“I’ll help him. You go out the sign up.” You said, as you stood up. He was quick to do that same, before stealing you into his arms. Just to hold you a moment, and savor it. Savor the bliss of the morning. With his head resting against yours. No words were needed, as you cupped his face. Tracing the scars, and admiring him in his entirely.

“Love you to, you big trouble maker.”

[sparrowrye]

Alastor x Fem! Reader {soulmates} Part 9

Synopsis: soulmate AU where you have the same mark on your body as your soulmate, and if your soulmate dies, you die too. Alastor needs to make sure that his soulmate is safe so he can continue his reign - whatever that takes. Though it looks like we have a couple secrets of our own.

Previous Part

Part 9: playing mind games

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

I started noticing books being left on the ottoman at the base of my bed. Their old covers and texture of the pages told me of their age. I didn't know what any of them were about unless I read them. I knew it was Alastor's doing, though. I kept them by the window and didn't touch them.

I sat out on the porch with Husker again. This time I shared with him what happened in the library. His grumpy face didn't change and he often let out an exasperated sigh over Alastor’s behavior. It felt nice to complain about him to someone. Husker somehow managed to coax me into talking about the big fight.

"I thought you said your powers were dampened up here," I finished.

"They are. But I also told you that Al is different."

"Why?"

He shrugged and took another sip. "Beats me. And I don't really care to find out either."

"What...do you think it would be...easier for me to practice my powers in Hell?" I asked slowly.

His sharp pupil looked at me sideways. "I don't think that's really a place you'd want to explore."

"I didn't say explore. But it might be easier for me to unravel my curse if a Demon's powers are stronger in Hell."

"That's something you'd have to ask Al, about." He leaned his face on his paw.

"The answer is no." Both of us jumped when the Radio Demon appeared by the door. "A curse is a curse and it's just as hard to unravel no matter where you are."

I sighed and leaned back in the chair. I stared off into the white landscape as Husker and Alastor talked about something else. It didn't make sense what he had said. How could it not be easier to unravel a curse? It would make my magic easier to handle and learn from, which would in turn make it easy to unravel it. So why not?

I thought back to my meetings with Rosie. She would always make a comment about the progress I was making. When she would ask me to do something with magic, it took minimal effort compared to when I used it in the house. Did Alastor have some kind of magic constraint on the house to keep me from using too much? Or to keep Husker in check? I had seen them disagree before.

Or—

My eyes widened. I slowly turned my head to look at the two of them bickering. Husker noticed first and went quiet. Alastor uncomfortably turned his head first, then his shoulders followed.

"Is..." My claws dug into the wood of the chair's armrest. "Is Rosie's place...in Hell?"

Husker's eyes snapped up to look at Alastor. His lips parted into a toothy smile. "Of course it is darling. Where else did you think it was?" I couldn't tell if he was angry at me. He always sounded so condescending so it was hard to tell the difference.

"I don't know. I just...didn't know."

"Indeed, she resides in Hell as Cannibal Town's prestige Overlord."

"Cannibal Town?"

He chuckled. "What did you think all their pointy teeth were for, darling?"

I leaned away from him despite the distance already. I couldn't help but stare at his own sharp teeth. There was always something he was neglecting to tell me.

"It's why we always visit Rosie at night and why we always use the back door. Hell isn't exactly the safest for you."

"It would have been nice to have known, though."

"There are some things you don't need to know." There it was again with the condescending tone. I felt like a child being lectured by a parent. "But this you do," he leaned down toward me, "You are not to leave her estate without me. Wouldn't want you getting into the hands of any cannibals, or worse."

"Worse what?"

He straightened up and placed his cane down. "My dear, you are not yet ready for Hell. You have still a long way to go. Speaking of which, I do think it's time for another lesson, don't you think?"

I squeezed my hands tightly together. "Do all your lessons use fear and pain?"

"That all depends on you, darling. Come along." He went into the house, leaving the door open for me to follow. I let out a huge sigh and gently hit my head on the back of my chair.

I dropped my human appearance and walked inside, leaving Husker to his whiskey bottle. I found Alastor waiting in the library, his claws drumming his cane impatiently.

He can't get mad at me for using self defense, right?

The doors all slammed behind me and the curtains were drawn. "Conjure light." To my relief, I could still make out everything in the room. I focused on my palms and conjured light from my hands. "Give shape to it."

I hesitated. Then I cupped my hands together and imagined rolling up a snowball. I took my hand away to reveal a sphere of light.

"Excellent." He appeared directly in front of me and lifted the sphere from my hands. "Now, I want you to snuff it out."

"How?"

"Use your imagination dear." He looked near the window at a sharp shadow cutting through the wood. He wanted me to control the shadows.

I looked around at all the other sharp lines from the single light he held. How did I move shadows? I only ever saw him disappear into them. And how did I get them up to the light?

I tried moving the single shadow from a chair's leg. I saw it shaking at first. Eventually I managed to pull it towards me along the floor. I was practically reeling it in with my hands. It felt heavy. I lifted it up Alastor's leg and to his arm where it promptly disappeared.

"Let's try something more simpler," he said. He lifted his cane and the room was plunged into utter darkness again. His face was illuminated in a nightmarish way from the sphere he still held. "This should be easier. Try again."

My cheeks burned with embarrassment. I looked around at the darkness as I struggled to think. He and Husker always used their hands when they were casting. So I opened my claws and imagined the darkness infecting and surrounding the little ball of light.

The light disappeared.

"Well done." Alastor appeared beside me as did the sunlight. "You seem to have a good grasp on shadow work.” He walked behind me to the other side. "You must really be in touch with your Demon side. Good job." With his condescending comment, he slipped into the shadows and back upstairs.

I looked down at my black claws.

****

I met with Rosie again a week later.

"My my, you've made even more progress," she marveled at the touch of our hands. "I'm so impressed. You must be practicing a lot."

"Yeah," I laughed nervously. I had just gotten comfortable with her before Alastor revealed who she really was to me. I couldn't stop staring at her teeth.

"Well, let's not linger any longer. Let's get right into it." She held my hands and I grudgingly closed my eyes. Would today reveal anything more than just more memories?

We started a trip down my teenage-hood when Striker owned me. He was the roughest when it came to discipline. He always grabbed my hair, held me right up to his face, and whipped his tail at me. He hated my snide comments.

We continued through the years. She asked me to focus on the faces in the crowd above me and those in cages beside me. There were faces in the cages that I recognized, many of whom were now long dead, but the crowd was never recognizable. Until one face stood out.

Husker.

His red wings caught my attention real fast. I could see him pushing through the crowd collecting bets and dishing money out. He wore his usual grumpy face but he wore a long jacket of some kind. I felt hot anger in my arms but my opponent slammed me into the ground. I finished the memory exiting the ring and walking onto a cobbled street. I looked around, utterly confused.

"What do you see?" Rosie asked.

"A town. I'm...wait...I'm in Tidebring."

"Where's that?"

"It's on a beach of the fishing district. It was where I first escaped."

"Tell me what you see."

"I see people walking. All people I don't recognize. And I see children. Their parents are holding their hands and moving quickly. It's almost sunset."

"Good. What happens at sunset?"

"It's more dangerous. Things come out of the ocean and..." I turned around to find myself in Ultopa. It was the city Striker found me. "I'm...I'm...not safe."

"What is it darling?"

"This isn't...They legalized ring fights here." I started spinning in circles. "There's no one on the streets. He's...he's going to find me."

"This is a memory, darling. Don't let the fear get to you."

"He's looking for me. He...he wants me back. He wants...he likes to play tricks." I found myself walking further down the street. I suddenly spotted the orphan boy I had saved in the alley. He was hugging a woman in the doorway. "This isn't...this isn't how I remember this."

"Darling, I need you to pull out of the memory."

"This isn't a memory." I looked intently at the boy. He was smiling and rubbing his face in his mother's skirt. Rosie was saying something else but I couldn't hear. He opened his eyes and waved to me. I waved back. When he smiled his face got really big and he laughed, revealing a set of sharp teeth.

I spun around right as Striker lunged at me. My head slammed into the concrete and his claws tightened around my throat. I could hear Rosie yelling but I was too focused on Striker's teeth near my nose.

I tried pushing him off with my legs but he wouldn't budge. He laughed loudly in my ear and ran his tongue along my neck. My blood ran cold. My struggling turned frantic. I couldn't breathe. He was too heavy.

"You're mine, oh you're mine." His voice didn't match. It wasn't his.

Cold water slammed into my face. I sucked in air and water, rolling over to cough it up. I dug my claws into the wet carpet as I hacked up more water. I could still see his face but I could feel that I was in Rosie's store.

I frantically shook my head and blinked several times. I couldn't get his smiling face out. I began clawing at my eyes but something cold grabbed my wrists and pinned them against a wall. They were glued there. When I couldn't move them I brought my face to them, desperately trying to get his face to go away.

Rosie was frantic as she tried to tell me to stop. "Get him out! Get him out!" I yelled. I dragged my face along the carpet but he wouldn't leave. His smile only grew bigger and closer. I could feel his tongue still on my neck. "Get him out!"

I could sense Rosie wasn't near me anymore, which made me panic even more. I started slamming my head into the wall, repeating the same words over and over. I tried smelling for anything but all my senses were blocked. I was floating in nothingness.

Someone grabbed my chin and pulled it up. Another hand covered my eyes and dragged it across my face. I furiously blinked and the image of Striker faded. His yellow eyes were replaced by red ones and I soon found myself staring up Alastor.

My breathing slowed as I realize I was back. Alastor gently let go of my face and I fell down on my elbows. I slowly looked around at the small, pale room. Rosie stood behind me with a hand on my back. I let out a sigh.

"Welcome back, sweetie," she said softly.

"What..." I swallowed with a dry throat. "What happened?"

"Someone got in your mind," she answered.

"What?"

Alastor stood up from his kneeled position and started looking around. Rosie went to my hands and took the old handcuffs off. I hadn't noticed the random white bar that ran along all of her walls. Was it a decoration style?

I sat up and pushed my wet hair out of my eyes. I started shivering and Rosie was quick to put a blanket over my shoulders. I could still see a faint outline of Striker's face still.

Alastor walked back over. "There was air magic involved."

"I'll have my boys clean all the vents," Rosie declared. She kept rubbing her hand in circles on my back. All I could do was stare at the floor and tremble. "It might be wise for me to visit you next time. She'll need to learn how to use mind magic before she can come back here."

"I think you're quite right, Rosie." He stood next to my cowering figure. "Thank you for saving her." He attempted to pick me up but I panicked and practically jumped over Rosie.

"I—I—I can—I can walk. I'm fine!" I yelled. Rosie looked between the two of us.

"Then let me at least help you, darling." He held out a clawed hand. Still shivering, I slowly accepted the gesture. He carefully lifted me up from under my arm and let Rosie wrap the blanket around my shoulders again.

"I'm sorry it even happened, Alastor. I didn't notice anything different."

"It's no worries," he reassured her, "It might've been too small for you to detect. We'll arrange for you to visit us soon."

"Of course. You may leave in here. I'll need to scrap this place clean again."

Alastor simply nodded before wrapping an arm around me. I felt uneasy and grabbed onto his arm when the ground fell away. We came back to the moon's blue light reflecting off the snow. The cold grabbed at my wet body and my shivering worsened.

The world went dark a moment before I found myself in front of the fire. I knelt down and pulled the blanket tighter. I stared into the fire, not yet feeling it's sweet warmth. I watched the flames wave back and forth.

I flinched when Alastor touched my chin. He still had a smile on his face but he wasn't showing any teeth. He knelt in front of me and carefully touched my chin again. He used his other hand to run his fingers along my face. It wasn't until he touched a wound that I realized my face was covered in them. It had been from my own doing.

They stung every time he touched them. I closed my eyes and braced myself every time I felt his fingers on my skin. My claws punctured holes in the blanket from holding it so tight. I didn't like how gentle he was being. It was uncharacteristic of him.

He eventually moved down to the sides of my neck. If I wasn't tense before, I was now. His claws occasionally brushed against my skin but it was mostly his fingers running across the bleeding cuts.

Then his hands froze. I opened my eyes to see him staring intently at my neck. He ran his finger along a certain path on my skin.

"What is it?" I asked in a hoarse voice.

"You have a rash here. Nothing to worry about." He pressed his palm against the spot and it tingled as his magic worked. I could see the glow of green outlining his figure again. He then touched the remaining wounds and stood up. "Nifty," he called. She appeared a second later excitedly. "Draw a bath for her." She crawled quickly up the stairs.

"What happened to me?" I asked. I was still crouched by the fire and soaking wet.

"Someone got into your head with mind magic." His cane appeared in his hands and he suddenly looked much taller. He looked out the window. "And I know exactly who it was."

"Who?" I coughed up more water. My lungs burned with every breath I took.

He finally turned to look at me. His smile widened but not enough to show teeth. "No one you should concern yourself with, darling. I'll handle it." He held out his hand, helping me to my feet.

The world went dark and my body felt like it was in water again. A moment later I was standing in my bedroom. Alastor let go of my hand as Niffty walked out of my bathroom. "It's all done!"

"Excellent." He turned to me and panic ran through me. "Perhaps you'll ensure that she's well on her own, Niffty?" My shoulders dropped with relief.

"Of course, sir!" she saluted him with the wrong hand.

"You have nothing to worry about tonight, dear," he told me, "You're safe in this house. Husker will be up shortly to watch over you."

"Where are you going?"

He took a step away and half bowed his head. "I have someone to speak to on this account. To ensure they don't try this little trick ever again." With that, he faded into the shadows.

The hot bath water was instantly soothing. Everything in me slowly began relaxing until I could move my limbs properly again. The relief brought tears to my eyes as I sank lower into the warm water. I kept my eyes on the faucet because closing them made me see Striker's face again.

I wasn't so sure I would be able to sleep tonight.

[faeriekit]

Regarding health and hybrids: I have so many questions!! This is amazing! Like, will JL dark ever play a role in this? Or would that be to easy? Since Constantine and co could maybe understand ghostspeak or at least clock Danny as undead? What about Jason? Does Danny have a secondary protection obsession, and will that make it impossible to stay out of heroing for good? He's already friends with young justice. Or, if not, could we have an epilog we're the whole JL shows up to Danny's collage graduation, with Diana as his legal guardian? All of them happy crying, look at our son, the normal one, this is the greatest day! He doesn't need to breathe NASA, what are you waiting for!

I'm glad you have questions!!

At this exact moment, there's no reason for the JLD to specifically get called in on Danny's case; when it comes to resource allocation, every "Superhero" probably has a pretty tight schedule. They do all the heavy lifting and have specialized skills to tackle specific world-ending threats and can't be overworked, and are probably constantly healing/calling in for professional or private time/turning evil/etc, which means that their time for addressing non-critical issues is super limited. With no obvious supernatural component to the recovery of an 'alien' teenager, the focus is going to be getting time in with other extraterrestrial personnel, rather than magical/supernatural. Danny's not a critical issue. He's not murdering anyone and he's not a security risk. He's just a teenager, who needs help. They can absolutely help with that.

What this means though is Diana, basically, is doing extra overtime on top of two jobs. This only works because she is immortal. Damn, ma'am.

...And, of course, JLD presence or lack thereof may change as more details come out, of course. 👀 But! At the moment, there's no reason to doubt that this kid is anything but a more standard half-human who needs help.

Jason is currently doing crime on earth! He's got no reason to run into Danny at the moment, haha, considering that he's hanging out on the Watchtower and can't move, but like I said, if details end up changing... 👀

I decided against making Danny have an official "obsession" other than space, purely because Danny doesn't have an interest in protection: he's literally just traumatized. That's a normal human brain function. Danny's obsession with Space is based on who he was as a living person, with his spirit of exploration being part of the reason he died; as a ghost, willpower and motivation come from who he was, not who he is, and Danny's combat-related trauma is very, very recent, and very situationally dependent. You know. 'Cause his parents blew open a door between worlds in his basement that lets people who hurt him through. (Womp womp.)

I have a plan for the future ending of the fic!! 😉 You'll have to wait until we get there, though...this was originally going to be an eight-chapter sort of fic and now it's somehow the most complicated thing I'm currently publishing lol. Whoopsie. C'est la vie. Depending on how his long-term hand recovery goes, Danny's going to limited in some ways more than others...but hey, who knows what that'll do to his future job prospects? Not me! They keep making ergonomic and low-mobility tech equipment like keyboards and mouses that boggle my mind design-wise, so who knows how that would play out in the future, and in the high-tech space of DC...!

...But that's neither here nor there, haha! Thank you for taking an interest in the fic, and I hope this answered the most burning questions you've got!

[tetitous]

Everyone, I have done it.

So, the post about Yugo and queerness in Wakfu is a 3 parter due to my use and abuse of pictures. You'll be able to enjoy part 2 here, and dw I'll add one at the bottom too

First, I would like to preface this by saying that, while I do believe they didn’t create or write Yugo with the idea making him queer in mind, I do not think the creators made things unintentionally either. What I think they actually wanted to do with Yugo, was to have a character that felt as gender neutral as possible, in order to make him relatable to the show's originally young audience, without alienating girls or boys. A character not leaning too much one way or the other.

But as such Yugo is a character that can be read within a queer lens without that much of an effort. I know a lot of people on this site hc him as on the aro and/or ace spectrum, some degree of nonbinary and in my specific case as genderfluid bi/pan, and I'm even considering possibly intersex.

Wakfu also happens to be the kind of show that, whether intentionally or not, just finds itself to have a ton and a half of queerness in it: from simple implications to actually out queer characters, the world depicted in the show is a diverse one, in that sense and more.

That’s why I genuinely think that it's not just random readings that come from fandom's typical queering goggles, I think there are elements in the show that do help these readings, precise elements as well as elements that need a little more digging.

So here's what this post aims to do: to find those elements and compile them in as clear a way as possible. Please do take into account that I am very easily prone to reaching so if you don't see it, that's totally fine, and I may end up structuring things in very chaotic ways, but I am doing my best.

I decided to separate my writing between the gender elements and the sexuality elements, with a listing format. One element, one dash. Since I am french and don’t know much about the english translation, I’ll be illustrating everything using screenshots as reminders, and will be adding some small notes and quotes translated by myself when needed. Well then, let's get started!

The gender category, or as I'd like to call it "this could have been an email- but make it about a trans character":

Yugo's name: first, this one is 100% due to a fic I read that made me reflect on a very interesting fact: in s1ep1, when Alibert finds Grougal's message, Yugo's name is never mentioned.

During that scene, he’s only called “this child” and “that small one”

What that means, given that Yugo's name has been "Yugo" since previous lives, is that either Alibert somehow picked the right name on first try, or, more logically, that he didn't. That Yugo got called another name for some years, until he got old enough to correct them.

And you would think the argument stops there, but in s2ep12, a character gets openly deadnamed and mocked for it by literally everyone, saying "his real name is…". There is one exception to this,

Yugo, who never mocks him and says "It’s not because your parents named you… ", which is a very interesting nuance in phrasing. It implies that, while to others the name their parents chose is a "real" name, an immovable fact of life, to Yugo it is a choice made by others for them, that can be wrong, that can be changed.

Yugo's relationship with femininity (and masculinity): Have you ever noticed that the Brotherhood of the Tofu very frequently separate themselves with gendered terms? You’ll often hear Tristepin and Ruel call Amalia and Eva “the girls” and Eva and Amalia call them plus Yugo “the boys”. Prior to the OVAs Yugo only does so in one episode, s2ep21, the one episode where he's magically seduced into being aggressive towards "the girls".

“You are so strong and smart, right guys?”

“If you aren’t happy you can go with the girls!”

Prior to this, Yugo never really plays into gender roles, and after it will be mainly due to his aging process, which we will discuss.

Yugo seems to treat socially gendered activities as if they weren’t, I believe it is also noticeable with his relationship to heroism, though that one can only be inferred in contrast to Tristepin's former very strict hero/princess binary viewpoint.

(Here I would have put an exception about the OVA and him admitting he always wanted to save a princess, but given that in the most recent manga the term is used as a pet name for him I guess I’ll let that one slide)

During s1ep4, Yugo crossdresses and not only is he comfortable with that fact, not only is he the one who came up with the idea (although Amalia gave him an unconscious push), he is thriving in it.

Look at the joy on his face upon putting a bow on.

I feel the need to remind everyone Yugo is 12 during s1, an age at which young boys are definitely aware of a gender divide and typically reject girly stuff like the pest.

Back to the Boufbowl episode once more, in s1ep10, you may have noticed Ruel calling being a cheerleader “being the girls”, and while Yugo may be on the bench as a substitute, he does participate in cheerleading right in the next episode.

Two three very motivated children and their unconvinced chaperone.

Actually he is the only character in the Brotherhood of the Tofu to be a cheerleader during both Boufbowl arcs.

His outfits are also not strongly gendered, especially compared to Tristepin's chest-out s2 design or Eva and Amalia's early short skirts, his most gendered character design might be his adult-form one, and even then, when compared to Nora's, you’ll notice Yugo is only ever wearing the same thing as her with added details (royal details?) and his own color palette. My take is he’s actually meant to look like the Eliatrope goddess, with his cape reproducing her hair.

S4 teaser Yugo because we don’t have a clean pic of his s4 design, and I did my best for Nora.

Yugo's aging process as a metaphor for transness: as we all know, from the OVAs until the last quarter of s4, Yugo is a young adult trapped within a child's body. He gets mocked and infantilized on the regular, his status as king belittled. The only thing that he maintains some form of respect for is his status as a hero. And you can tell it is weighing him down. For one, this body is an obstacle to his relationship with Amalia, not just due to the eyes of others,

"I grow slowly whereas she, she became a queen, a woman...", with the implication "and I'm not a man” or “I don't pass as one"

but also due to his own degrading self-perception.

“Let’s see who’s small!”

(notice how easily he gets tickled by a simple comment on his size, how the mere notion of his body being revealed becomes reason enough for violence in s3ep7).

Yugo gets angry and violent, a lot, and more than is typically expected of him.

“I tried thinking like Yugo, I’m sure he would have preferred this to the hit-you-in-the-face method.”

“Dear little brother, I don’t know what happened to you these last few years, but I don’t recognize you anymore!”

A result of trauma, sure, but if you're like me you may have noticed how turning into an adult made him feel very… relaxed, suddenly. In a way that can be compared to the disappearance of symptoms of body dysphoria with people who go through a process of gender-affirming transition.

As an aside, his s3 design really makes him look like he's wearing a binder, in addition to the turtleneck that would hide the absence of an Adam's apple, the look is very transmasc.

That one particular art of him is what really marked me, because of the slight shade under the chest. Doesn’t mean it is a binder, just means it could look like one.

Yugo's Eliatrope hat as a metaphor: There may not seem like there is much to say, but the fact is that this hat was very mysterious for a very long time. If you were part of the fandom before the s2 finale you may have been theorizing on a forum about what was going on behind that hat (I was on the "a second pair of ears but these are shaped like cat ears" team, but still slightly unconvinced), and you knew that there wasn't anyone more curious about this than Nox.

“We may finally get to find out what you hide under your hat.

-Even my friends never forced me to tell them!”

was a very iconic line, one that definitely could remind people of the infamous "what's in your pants" question.

Well the Brotherhood was curious as well, but mostly respectful and patient with their friend.

It was clear that there was discomfort with that part of him that he refused to reveal, so much so that he probably never washed with any of his friends. When they would hang around for days, when the girls wouldn't care between each other (and neither would Eva and Pinpin between each other, wink wink), when they would all sleep together, Yugo probably would still never take it off in front of them.

Overall my point is just that inthe rare times the hat gets discussed, it just doesn't sound cis.

the Eliotropes: they're coming back in the sexuality section, dw.

But, as Yugo himself says, they are "versions" of himself. The interesting question now is "in which way?" Since they are not "past versions" of him, and since they seem to "inherit" some of his personality/physical traits, I do believe them to be an expression of his own fragmented sense of self. Some of them may be men, as a reflection of his own perception of himself as one, but then some may be women for that same reason, and well some are women, some even are canonically enby.

Character on the far left is enby and character on the far right is a woman. Obviously Echo is not an Eliotrope.

One could even go as far as considering these traits can physically express themselves only because Yugo's anatomy reflects them, and in that case we can go into not just a gender reading, but into an intersex one. Pushing further into it, Yugo, being their creator, effectively gave birth to them, and as such they call him father, but the act of giving birth itself is typically associated with the feminine, sowe could argue that Yugo’s position is both one of father and of mother.

Of course they also have physical and mental aspects that are separate from Yugo, like none of the ones we met are the same sandy blonde as Yugo is for example, but the ambiguity of the existence of the Eliotropes is and will always be a matter of "where does Yugo end and where do they begin?".

A little question mark for the road: In OVA2, as a joke, Rubilax “reveals” that Tristepin was actually a woman all along. This is a sample of everyone’s reaction:

1st, Amalia is so bi it’s insane, but that’s not my point here. Yugo’s reaction being of absolute shock, even more so than Tristepin himself always had me wondering what was going on in his head. Through a queer lens it remains just as hard to read through, so my personal take is that Yugo is amazed at how male-“passing” Pinpin is, so much so he may think “You mean to tell me I knew that guy for years and never realized he was trans too?!” I don’t know, I’d love to get some feedback on that one.

That first section was 2 pages-long without the pictures, so let’s take a tiny break and enjoy some Yugo cuteness as a breather.

Just the cutest. He doesn’t even need to try.

part 2

[wastelandmoony]

Heyy I don’t know if you take requests or not but I saw you write for both HL and the marauders, and I’ve had this specific fic idea that I cannot find to save my life (and I’m a shit writer) so I was wondering about like fem!hufflepuff!reader during the marauders era, but she has like the ancient magic from HL (maybe voldemort is trying to harness it instead of ranrok) and nobody knows except her 😳😳 and she’s friends with the marauders but she kinda has a thing for remus and he does too but they’re so shy, and somehow her powers get revealed, she gets hurt, angst + hurt/comfort???

Hi!!! I don't explicitly take requests, but I'm also not opposed to them so thank you for submitting one! I feel like this is a little more angsty than you were originally after, so I apologize lol

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

Icarian Carrion

Pairing: Remus Lupin x F!reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: Angst, language, sexual innuendos

Hogwarts, 1978

The Room of Requirement was silent as she inhaled deeply, letting both eyes sink shut. The wand hummed against her palm, a constant almost imperceptible vibration that kept her grounded. She listened closely to the chirping birds, the rustling of leaves, the creak of branches. Exhaling slowly, she opened her eyes and braced for the targets. Quickly, multiple dummies rose from the bushes, and she unleashed her attack one after another. The power flowing through her spanned back generations, handed down by her mother, from her mother before her, her mother before her, and so on, tracing back to the 1800s. She’d known she was different from a young age, having abilities to see things others could not, being able to wield magic far beyond her years; her mother was not surprised of course, being the one to harness identical power, and the moment she was able to fully comprehend the scope of it, her mother sat her down and explained their family history. 

During the Goblin Rebellion in the late 19th century, her great-great-grandmother uncovered a hidden repository filled with ancient magic. To ensure the magic was never able to fall into the wrong hands, she absorbed it, passing it down generation after generation. Her mother instilled in her the knowledge of how large of a responsibility this was, that this power could still be harnessed by outside forces by coercion and manipulation. She would always need to be on guard, and always trust her instincts. 

So here she was, blasting at dueling dummies in the Room of Requirement during her free period between classes. The news had been getting increasingly more dire, and it seemed like James had a new update from his parents on the war efforts almost every other day now. Her mother worried that the day might come when her abilities would be necessary, so she had warned her via owl post months ago to be ready for anything, whether that be fighting back or disappearing completely. There was already a plan in place to pull her out of school and lie low outside of the country should her parents feel that she was in danger. But she refused to run, refused to hide, especially with her friends all eager on joining the Order. The lot of them had vowed to do it after leaving school in a few months, Sirius and James foaming at the mouth for the chance to fight. None of them knew about her abilities, a secret her family had kept for generations, but continuing that tradition was becoming harder and harder because of one person in particular. 

She exited the Room of Requirement quietly, keeping cool and neutral to avoid being caught. As she rounded the corner towards the main stairway, a hand pulled her down the opposite hall.

“What were you doing?” Remus stared at her curiously, the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“Studying?” She choked out, trying her best to sound convincing and normal. 

He didn’t buy it.

“Bullshit,” he rolled his eyes playfully, “don’t lie to me, you’re a terrible liar, love.” 

Fuck. He always knew how to rip at her heartstrings with a single word. She had met the boys during her first year at school, quickly melding into their group seamlessly. They became a tightly knit group, over the years folding in more friends like Marlene, Lily, and Mary. Out of them all though, Remus had always been her closest confidant. They were never far from one another, always drawn in like magnets. She loved him fiercely, a feeling that up until the past year or so she had thought was strictly platonic; ignoring all of the butterflies and skipped heartbeats when he was near. She loved him. She was in love with him. She would rather die than risk their friendship and address it.

Pushing past him to continue back toward the stairs, she huffed. “I’m not lying, I was studying for Defense. Something you could probably benefit from…” she gave him a sarcastic glance, catching his overly-dramatic scoff. 

“Excuse me?” It only took him a few long strides to catch up to her, falling into step as they made their way downstairs, “I’ll have you know that I’ve received top marks in Defense every single year.”

She bit back a grin, walking towards the Great Hall. The distant sound of students eating echoed down the corridor. 

“You’re up to something,” Remus narrowed his eyes suspiciously, just as the smell of lunch permeated the air. He was always so easily distracted by food, something she never failed to use to an advantage. “I’ll figure it out soon enough, don’t you worry.” He smirked playfully, immediately dropping his crusade in lieu of joining the other boys at the table. 

She sighed with mild relief, taking her place beside him.

———

It was stupid of her to assume that Remus had forgotten about seemingly catching her at the Room of Requirement, though hindsight is 20/20 after all. The following week, she made her usual trip up to practice with the dummies again, only this time she had a visitor. The corridor outside the room was clear (she always made sure to triple check), so she quietly whispered the phrase to make the door appear. As she slipped into the room, Remus snuck in behind her, eliciting a swift shove against the wall. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed, slamming the door shut before anyone else could come in, keeping her palm flat against his chest.

He smiled triumphantly as she backed away, “I followed you.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Creep.”

Remus chuckled quietly, peering around at the Room of Requirement and whistling low in admiration. “This is…something else…”

Sighing, she sat in a chair beside a large wooden desk strewn with papers and books. “I come here to study.” Not a complete lie, which kept the guilt from eating away at her. 

Remus hummed questioningly, staring out at the dueling dummies that lined the magically-created forest off to the left. 

“I don’t think you do, at least not for classes anyway,” he mused, gaze coming to a scrutinizing rest on her. “Tell me what’s going on. You’ve been my best friend for years, I know when something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong Remus,” she mumbled, heart beginning to beat out of her chest. 

“Whatever it is,” his expression softened slightly, “I can help. Let me help you.”

She shook her head, resolve beginning to chip. “You can’t help this time…”

She watched as he visibly swallowed dryly, “So…there is something going on then, isn’t there?”

For a few moments, they stared at each other, standing at the edge of an impasse. Finally, she sighed, and began to tell Remus everything. 

———

“So you’ve been preparing to fight?” Remus had paled slightly when she explained her end goal. No matter what her parents wanted, she was going to use her abilities to fight back. It could be a turning point in the war, if only she could strengthen and control them fully. 

She nodded firmly, unwavering even after hearing him beg for her to stay out of this. “Do you—do you want me to show you?” 

Remus smiled slightly, eager to see the ancient magic she had described in action. He watched intently as she cast some of it towards the dummies, illuminating the space around them with bright blue light before each dummy shattered into pieces with barely a flick of her wrist. When she finished, Remus stared at her in awe, like a goddess come down to this earth. She blushed at the intensity of his gaze, “Please stop looking at me like that.”

He didn’t. Instead, abruptly spitting out a sentence that froze her entirely.

“You’re so beautiful.”

She stared back at him, “…what?”

Remus shook his head, averting his eyes quickly as he realized what he had said out loud. “I uh—I should go actually. I forgot I told Sirius I’d meet him—“

“Yeah. That’s…fine,” she coughed nervously, “I’ll see you at dinner later?”

Remus nodded, and she didn’t miss the blush that dusted his cheeks as he turned towards the door.

———

London, 1979

Sirius swung his legs as he sat on the kitchen counter, watching as the two of them bickered back and forth. “Oh come off it Moony!” He smirked, taking a sip of his coffee, “Let her go, she’s one of the best fighters we have.”

She shot Sirius a wink, quickly focusing back on Remus’ scowling face. 

“I’m not letting her go off on this completely insane mission for Dumbledore!” Remus snapped, folding his arms across his chest in finality. 

“You’re not letting me?” Her eyes widened, “I'm sorry, but who are you to determine what I may or may not do with my own life?”

Remus visibly bristled, “Your best fucking friend! Someone who cares very deeply about you!”

She hummed, just as Sirius mumbled something that sounded an awful lot like “that’s one way to put it.”

“Well as my best friend, you of all people should respect my wishes. I’m doing the job, and you can’t stop me,” she pushed past him to exit the kitchen they all shared, but not before Sirius could let out a frustrated huff of annoyance.

“Can you two just please, do us all a favor, and fuck already?” 

She stopped in her tracks, Remus freezing as well. Neither of them made a move until she turned slowly to glare daggers at Sirius.

“What the fuck is wrong with you…” she mumbled, finally storming down the hallway and slamming the door to her room. 

Sirius smirked, hopping off the counter to clap Remus on the shoulder. “All I’m gonna say, is that I’m going to James’ house for a few hours. So feel free to be as loud as you want. Get out some of that anger.”

Before Remus could swat him, Sirius ducked and apparated to meet James. 

He sighed, collecting his thoughts before making the walk down to her room, unable to let her leave on a bad note. The mission she had be asked to lead was a dangerous one, Dumbledore had asked for her personally. Remus wasn’t sure of the entire job, seeing as how he wasn’t involved, but he had a feeling it had to do with her abilities. Dumbledore had found out about them shortly after they all joined the Order, but only because she had let him. She wanted to show him that she could be a weapon, and a devastating one at that; one that the Order could use (or exploit as he put it) to end the war. The notion didn’t sit right with Remus, something he had tried to express multiple times to her with no response other than “Dumbledore knows what he’s doing, Remus”. Knocking softly, he listened for a response.

“I don’t want to talk to you Remus,” she called through the door, immediately knowing he would show up and apologize moments after their fight. They’d been friends for too long, their habits and quirks were as familiar as a reflection. 

Remus sighed, “Please open the door. I just…I need to talk to you.”

The lock clicked, door opening a crack to reveal her stoic face. “Go ahead, then.”

He resisted rolling his eyes, “May I come in?”

“You don’t seem to have an issue dictating my actions, so you tell me.” 

Before he could respond, she turned and sat on her bed, allowing him entrance into her room. Even though no one else was home, he shut the door quietly to create more tangible privacy. She looked at him expectantly. 

“I’m sorry, okay?” He offered calmly.

“No you’re not,” she sighed, “You’ve done this before, and you’ll do it again. I just—I just wish you’d have more faith in me, I guess…”

Remus stared at her like she’d struck him. “Have faith in you? Love, I’m in awe of you always.”

Her heart began to flutter erratically, meeting his eyes to try and find any bit of mockery in his words. She found none.

“How could I not be?” He continued, “You’re the strongest witch I know, and one of the smartest people I’ve ever met—and that’s not even taking into account your ancient power.”

She blushed, giving him a small smile as she looked up at him, “…One of the smartest?”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Fine. The smartest person I know.”

She stood up and hugged him, melting into his warmth as he returned the embrace. “Apology accepted. But please…can you try to not control my every move from now on? I’m going to be a part of this war whether you like it or not.”

Remus rested a cheek atop her head, “I just can’t lose you…and I know how determined you are. I don’t want you to get caught up and become involved in something you can’t come back from.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise. The mission isn’t even happening just yet, there’s still time to prepare. You just need to trust me,” she looked up at him. 

“I promise to trust you if you promise to always come back to me,” he murmured. 

For the briefest of moments, she hated him. Hated the way he made her heart soar, hated the way her fingers itched to trace every scar that marred his skin, hated how her lips craved to discover what his felt like. But more than that, she hated the coward within her, the one that didn’t dare reveal the truth to him. So instead, she buried her face in his chest and squeezed him tightly. “I’ll always come back to you Remus.”

———

London, 1980

Her bag had been packed for over a week, sitting underneath her bed as it awaited retrieval. The war had taken a turn for the worse, all of them living in a constant state of fear for not only themselves but for others. She knew the orders for the mission were incoming; she could feel it. James and Lily had told them all about the prophecy regarding their unborn child, a boy if it was believed to be true, a little boy they were to name Harry. The news had struck her so hard she had almost vomited right there on the Potter’s carpet. Remus’s arm around her waist was the only thing that kept her upright. That night, when they arrived back at the apartment, Sirius went straight to his room without another word, silent and angry. She had sat in Remus’s arms and cried until the tears wouldn’t come, settling for the sweet oblivion of sleep instead. She’d awoken pressed against his chest, Remus choosing to stay intertwined on the couch instead of depositing her sleeping body in her own bed. The memory of his peaceful face inches from hers that morning is the one that kept her moving as she threw the bag strap over her shoulder and apparated to a small house near the Forest of Dean. She thought of him and it gave her a reason to leave; she needed to help save him. She needed to help save all of them. Her non-essential belongings were left behind in the apartment, along with a note for Remus that she placed atop his dresser.

“I’ll always come back to you,” is all it said.

———

Islington, 1995

Remus followed the scent of coffee from their bedroom on the 2nd floor of Grimmauld Place. It was one of life’s simple pleasures that he still managed to hold onto during times like this. As he trudged into the kitchen with a yawn, Sirius placed a mug on the table and smiled softly. 

“Morning, Moony,” he said as Remus sat down, offering a fond look of his own. They were both confined to the townhouse, Sirius in all actuality, but Remus more in solidarity; and though the isolation was sometimes stifling, Remus quite enjoyed the domesticity it allowed them. It reminded him of her. Sirius tossed the Daily Prophet onto the table in front of Remus, another daily habit of his being combing the paper for any news or breakthroughs in the war. He still couldn’t believe it was all happening again…

On the fourth page, about halfway down, a small article caught his attention:

Dumbledore Loyalist Spy Found Dead in Ireland.

Smiling in a Ministry photo below, was her. 

He couldn’t breathe.

He’d spent 15 years searching for her, trying to find any information as to where she had disappeared to that night over a decade ago. Her letter was still in his drawer. Remus would read it every now and then when the memories got to be too much. 

I’ll always come back to you.

He had believed it.

He was a fool.

“Oh my darling, what have you done…” he whispered, hand coming to cover his mouth. 

Sirius appeared over his shoulder to see what was going on, immediately gripping Remus’ shoulder in support. “Fuck…” he whispered, “Moony, I’m—“

Remus shook his head, “He knew…”

“Who knew?” Sirius kept a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“Dumbledore fucking knew she was alive this whole time!” Remus slammed a fist onto the table, rattling the coffee mugs. “Sirius, he knew I was looking for her! He saw it all and said nothing! He let her—he let her die…” His face crumpled as the tears began to fall, dropping onto the newspaper and smudging the ink in their wake. 

“Remus,” Sirius said softly, holding back tears of his own, “I’m so sorry…”

A low growl sounded from Remus, standing up to launch his coffee mug across the kitchen, smashing against the far wall in a spray of ceramic. “He used her! He made her into a fucking weapon that he just—that he just could throw away!”

Sirius gripped his arm, moving around to hug him, letting Remus release a deep sob into his chest.

“I loved her,” he whispered, “I never told her…”

Sirius swallowed the lump in his throat, “I know…we all knew.”

Remus sniffed, “Do you—do you think she did?”

He sat with the thought for a moment, remembering the way Remus and her had always looked at each other, how they would always be within arms reach. He remembered the night he found them on the couch, a week before she disappeared, Remus cradling her closely as they slept. He’d suspected for years that they were in love, but that night had solidified it. 

Sirius met his eyes, a corner of his lips quirking upward, “She did. She might not have realized it…but I think she knew.” 

Remus inhaled a shaky breath, and Sirius moved to sit on the bench. “She loved you too, y’know.”

Remus lifted his gaze, eyes red and glassy, “How d’you know?”

He shrugged, giving him a small, sad grin, “I just…it was obvious. At least to the rest of us apparently.”

Remus huffed out a sorry excuse of a laugh, the two of them sitting together in silence for a moment.

“I miss her Pads…” he whispered.

“I know, I do too,” Sirius threw an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in. Remus reached forward and tore out the article, ripping delicately around the photo so you could no longer see the headline. It was just her. The same eyes he had loved since they were eleven, the familiar smile that she’d give whenever she saw him. She looked older, they all did, but she was more beautiful to him than ever. 

Remus stood from the table and went back up to his room, Sirius beginning to clean up the shattered coffee mug against his friend’s insistence. From his drawer, he pulled out the wrinkled letter, unfolding it to re-read the scribbled handwriting he’d spent years memorizing. Placing the small photo atop the note, he folded it back up, kissing it once.

“You broke your promise love,” he whispered, “but I forgive you. You know I could never stay mad at you for very long.”

Remus placed the note back in the top drawer, and headed back downstairs to help Sirius clean up the mess he had made.

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER EIGHT - READER

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

 Today has literally sucked every single last bit of energy I had left inside of me. Dark coffee with six packets of sugar and a fruit bowl could not have prepared me for the day I had. 

 I’m not sure if it’s because I stayed up late last night to put together lessons or how active my students have been during classes, but a bottle of wine is well needed right now. 

 Days like this make me want to quit my job and move out of the country. Usually, I would feel this way if I was teaching elementary school kids. Not high schoolers. 

 Sometimes they refuse to listen to you. Somehow, they magically forget about their homework, so they beg for an extension. And a lot of times they talk while they’re supposed to be silent reading. 

 It’s overwhelming being a teacher. Anyone who does it, is simply for the passion because the pay isn’t the greatest. 

  Thank goodness for my savings. 

 Anyways.

 I’m ready to go home. This parent-teacher conference is going on longer than expected, and it absolutely has nothing to do with the divorced single dad in front of me that won’t stop flirting. 

 Cons of being a younger teacher. Dads. Lots of them. Some are handsome, but I didn’t become a teacher to be hit on while trying to discuss their child’s grades and curriculum. 

 “Mr. Anderson, your son has been falling behind in class,” I begin. “He’s been on his phone lately and tends to talk over students while they're reading.”

 “I see. I’ll be sure to talk to him about that, Mrs. L /N.”

 I give him a tight smile— “Miss, —” correcting him. “Any other questions? I believe we discussed enough these past ninety minutes.”

  Even though the conferences are expected to last only thirty minutes, max, forty-five . 

 “Apologies thought a woman as attractive as yourself would be married,” he says with a smile that might’ve been charming if I was drunk, but right now—it makes me cringe. 

 I nod. “Well, I appreciate your compliment, Mr. Anderson. If there’s nothing else, then I do have to go-”

 “Dinner?”

 “Excuse me?” I stuttered. 

 He lets out a nervous laugh. “Sorry. That was my failed attempt at asking you out to dinner.”

 And here I thought I almost had him out the door. Like I said, some of the dads are attractive. I can’t deny that about Mr. Anderson. Tall. Smooth skin. Nice smile. Salt and pepper hair action going on. I would say he’s probably in his mid-forties. 

 However, I’m not interested in building a roster full of DILFs to keep in my bucket whenever I need sexual relief. 

 One should suffice.

 “Mr. Anderson, although I’m flattered, it’s best to keep this professional. I don’t want to get involved with my student’s father that way. So, I’ll have to decline.” What a hypocrite I am . “Come, I’ll see you out.”

 He gets up and follows me to the door. The woman in me knows he’s staring at my ass right now, so I turn to my side. And of course, I caught him in action. 

 “Apologies if I made you uncomfortable, Miss L /N.”

 “Apologies accepted. Enjoy the rest of your day,” I tell him, sounding sarcastic as ever. 

 Actually, two bottles of wine are much needed. 

 After two more excruciating hours at school, I eventually made it home. I think to myself one day I’ll leave work before it hits four, but I guess that’s inevitable when you’re an overachieving teacher like me. 

 To prepare myself for the next day, I usually stay later than usual to lay out all my lessons. However, I think it’s time for me to use one weekend to plan a month’s worth of lessons so I can stop staying so late. 

 Isn’t this what I complained to Nanami about? I remembered being tired of him staying after hours or bringing work to our home when all I wanted to do was read a book and lay under him. 

 It seems like his habits grew onto me. 

  The irony. 

 Probably if I had someone to come home to, I wouldn’t be thinking about work after I clocked out. Being single and thirty isn’t the worst thing ever, but I honestly thought I would’ve been settled down by now.

 That was the plan with Nanami. 

 I still can’t believe the nerve he had the other day during brunch. To ask me if we could try again after I already gave him two chances? Like I would ever sacrifice my happiness just so he could get his shit together. 

 My patience is high but not to that extent, and I refuse to wait for anyone to love me properly. I just hated that it had to be that way with Nanami. 

 We felt right together. He loved me. Made me feel beautiful. Extremely kind and gentle with me. I was one of those girlfriends that would “ my boyfriend” people to death because he made me happy. 

 Our way of meeting was such a cliché and it convinced me we were going to last forever. It’s only right to feel that way in a five-year relationship. 

 But after a while, what Nanami and I built became dull. Our relationship felt more like a chore than love between two people. It was transactional in a way that benefited him more than it did me. I didn’t want that anymore. 

 I didn’t want to become a wife and bring a child into the world with the possibility of being a single mother in a marriage. Nanami knew how much I wanted to start a family together, but he chose his principal duties over us. 

 I deeply sigh. “See what happens when you drink wine, Y/N,” whispering to myself. 

 Gosh, I shouldn’t even be drinking on a school night. I check my phone to not only see that it's eight-thirty, but also to be left with no new messages or missed phone calls from…

  Toji . 

 He’s had my number since yesterday, however, I have yet to hear from him. I mean, which is understandable. He works a late night job and has a fifteen-year-old son, so I’m not first of his priorities. Though, it would be nice to hear from him. 

 Thinking about Toji Fushiguro makes me feel like a high school girl who’s excited that her crush finally notices her. His gruffness, demeanor, how he carries himself. . . It’s different. I’ve had my fair share of relationships in the past before Nanami, but I’ve never come across a man like Toji. 

 At least, I don’t think so.

 A complete stranger Toji is to me yet the comfort he gives me is weird. Weird in a good way. I can only imagine how it’ll be the more we learn about each other. That’s if he doesn’t back out. 

 Only time will tell. 

 It’s time for me to go to sleep. If I stay up any longer, I’ll finish this bottle of wine and throw my mind into a frenzy for the rest of the night. But the minute I slipped into bed, my phone rang. 

 A number that I’m not familiar with calls me and I’m left to believe it’s only one person.

 “Hello?” 

 “. . . Hey .” I know that voice from anywhere. Deep, soothing, and spreads chills across my body. 

 “Mr. Fushiguro. Calling me after school hours? I’m not on the clock, you know?” I tease. 

 He chuckles, a little more faint than usual, but still a sound I enjoy hearing. “Remember you saying I can use your number however I please.”

 “I did say that didn’t I?” I can’t help but smile and stay up a few minutes extra to talk to Toji. “What’s up, big guy? You okay?”

  “Sounds like I’m not?”

 “A little.”

 He hums. “ I see. . . How was your day? ”

 It’s clear there’s something on Toji’s mind, but I’ll listen to him when he’s ready. 

 “It was… long. Draining,” I answer. “I was close to pulling my hair out.”

 “ Want to talk about it? ”

 I sit up in my bed.  “It’s just work being work. Not much to say that won’t cause you to get tired of hearing me talk.”

 The laugh he lets out this time has a little more life in it. “ I called you to hear you talk. . . Your voice is calming. ”

  He says things like this and expects me not to feel warm inside?

 “You need some calming?” I query. 

 “. . . Maybe .” 

 “Tell me, Toji.”

 I can only picture Toji staring into nowhere to see if he wants to open up to me or not. Whatever he shares, I’ll take it and offer my comfort. 

 He sighs. “ Was trying to have small talk with the kid about school and I guess that annoyed him. ”

 “What did he say?” I asked, knitting my brows together. 

 “ That he wanted to eat in silence, so he went to his room. ” 

 “He’ll come around.”

 Toji snorts. “ Yeah, I hope so. Took him school shopping earlier and he didn’t even want to be seen with me. ”

 “Did he tell you that?”

 “. . . No, I just assumed .”

 Although Toji isn’t physically here, I give him a reassuring smile like he could see me. “Assumptions will lead you to spiral. Next time try to be around him while keeping a comfortable distance,” I tell him. “I doubt it’s because he doesn’t want to be seen with you. I mean, Megumi is an exact replica of your face. It’s not like he can hide that you’re his dad.”

 “ You’re good with your words, Y/N. ”

 “I’m good at a lot of things, Mr. Fushiguro.” My tone came off way more suggestive than I expected but fuck it. I’ll blame the wine. 

 It’s like I can hear the smile on his face. “ You can’t say shit like that while calling me Mr. Fushiguro and expect me not to get turned on. ”

 “And what if that was my intention? Maybe to help get your mind off of things?”

 “ I can think of other ways for you to help. ”

 “You called me for some late night action?” I begin baiting. “What’s next? You’re going to ask me what I’m wearing?”

 “. . .  No... Well, if you want to share- ”

 I giggle, cutting him off. “Toji, anyways.” Hearing Toji genuinely laugh makes me feel better because I know how much mending his relationship with Megumi means to him. “I think you should continue with what you’re doing. I don’t know much about Megumi, but he seems like a kid that has to warm up. Even if you’re his dad, after years of neglect, comfort isn’t automatic because you’re blood. When he feels it, you’ll know.”

 “You’re right.”

 “Your mind feels cleared?” I try to contain my yawn, but it slips outs. I don’t want Toji to think he’s keeping me up because hearing from was actually the highlight of my day.

 “ After this walk and talking to you? Yeah. ” 

 “Don’t think it’s too late for you to be walking?” 

 “ Worried about me, Y/N? ” He asks, and I can hear the playfulness in his tone.

 I shrug. “Maybe. You’re a big boy, though. I’m sure you can take care of yourself.”

 “ I’m glad you know. ”

 I admire the comfortable silence Toji and I have sometimes whenever we talk. In a way, and hopefully he feels the same, it’s like we’re soaking in each other’s energy. And maybe Toji does feel the same since he decided to call when he needed help clearing his mind. 

 “ I’m keeping you up, Miss L /N? ”

 “Hm, I don’t mind giving you some of my time,” I pick on. “Just next time, schedule a conference.”

 He keeps the banter, saying, “ I’ll be sure to do that. . . I’ll let you go, though. Need your energy saved for Friday. ”

 “You’re going to put me to work on our date?”

 “ You’ll see, ” he says, smiling. “ And Y/N? ”

 I yawn again. “Yeah?”

 “ Thank you. ” An explanation of his admission isn’t needed. I know exactly why he’s thanking me. “ Night .”

 “Good night, big guy.”

 After we disconnect, I smile and internally feel giddy inside. It’s almost embarrassing how Toji makes me feel. I can’t help myself. 

 Going to sleep will be easier these next few days knowing I have something to look forward to on Friday. 

 As I described before, Toji Fushiguro will definitely be a beautiful catalyst that I’m excited to see. 

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

discussion question #4 — reader has made it clear that she doesn't want to reconcile any romantic relationship with nanami anymore, do you think he will become an issue to reader and toji's developing relationship as the story progresses?

[pendragonloki]

Why did JK rowling use owls anyway?

I get why they're meant to be familiars and historical they are associated with witchcraft and magic yes that makes sense congrats rowling you read a book about witches and yes all the other animal opinions are also familiar animals

Yes rowling very clever you get to choose one of the historical familiars of witchcraft very cool but heres the thing...

...They're not familiars?...

Like at all like within the context if the books and movies what do they do that's similar to witchcraft familiars?

Ok so the owls are the only one with a purpose that is society wide yes they are messenger, the famously nocturnal and slow birds yes lets use them. And the only other pet that has a use is

The chipr frogs? Is this the equivalent of parents buying their kids art supplies?

But like this is a serious wasted pontenial for the pets to actually be familiars and be apart of magic and spellcraft but they're not in the slightest we see them be used once

We only see them involved in magic once where ron turned his rat into a cup

(Which is really weird what scenario would you need this? And also we dont talk enough about how this is actually a person? Like this spell works on people?)

But yeah whenever i bring up that rowling should have used literally any other bird for messengers someone brings up the familiars arguement but this doesn't hold any water to me. Like they just aren't maybe if rowling tied the wand cores to the familiars like owl feather cores, or rat tooth, frog wart and cats hair ball or something would have been cool or if the pets somehow helped the wizards control their magic. But otherwise it doesnt add up

Rowling really should've used crows and or ravens they both have magic association, and if she was a good author would have also connected them to the deathly hallows with death playing a major role in the story.

They are also infinity more trainable than owls who i remember the story from the production of the first movie them being horribly untrainable like each owl could only learn 1 trick each. Crows are highly intelligent and recognise human faces imagine your post man couldn't recognise your face

And then theres the hidden aspect of it. You're telling me the muggles arent recognising the random snow or barn owl flying near their house semi consistently? Atleast with crows/ravens would blend in with cities and then pigeons would make even more sense.

Pigeons are super caring, they dont bite, they have historically been messengers and they're ancient, theyre the first and only birds domesticated and rowling saw their rich history and said "nah"

Owls are silent flyers so makes sense for a secret society but you know what doesn't blend in? A giant owl, people dont even think when they see pigeons or corvids. Plus if she chose pigeons she could have written that they're navigation is magic and muggles dont understand it.

If you have to use animals as messengers

(They dont need animals they have flying paper aeroplanes and can make flying notes)

Thanks for coming to my ted talk, rowling missed out on much better animals

[dreamsinger-rose]

Of Magic and Mating

Looking back over all the movies and specials, it seems to me that trolls are very magical creatures, whether they realize it or not. They are so magical that other species can actually make use of that magic. Velvet and Veneer could draw upon the trolls’ musical talent and the confidence to use it. The bergens did much the same thing, except their way of absorbing whatever makes a troll so magically “happy” was much cruder, by just eating them whole.

Maybe because of their generous natures, I feel that the trolls are open to being used by others. I got the distinct feeling that Floyd had befriended a shy Veneer and somehow given him a bit of his musical ability/confidence. Then Velvet found a way to exploit Floyd’s good will, which is why he was so bitter and sarcastic later on, having been betrayed by this “friends.” Thankfully, Veneer proved to be Floyd’s friend in the end, and turned against his sister.

My point is that rolls are steeped in magic. Their hair tends to be the main repository of it. They can move, stretch, and shape their hair. They can use it as an extra hand or foot, for travel, and object manipulation. They can change its color and texture to make it look like other things, like bushes for camouflage. They can use it to store items and carry babies. From what we’ve seen, they also create babies within their hair.

Now we learn that trolls can procreate with other species. Most likely due to their magical hair somehow making them compatible. It is worth noting that Bruce’s children are not trolls, though. He only seemed able to help her reproduce. Unless Brandy’s species can also self-clone, like Guy Diamond did with Tiny.

But if she does need a mate to produce babies, maybe his hair gave her the ability to self-clone like a troll. Maybe even produce eggs – which would explain why they had so many kids. I’d imagine Brandy would be delighted not to have to go through traditional pregnancies, lol. Or maybe Bruce’s hair actually produced their egg-babies.

That leads to the question of whether or not trolls have other reproductive organs, like humans (and possibly bergens) do. They probably don’t need them, but I like to think at least some have them, just for fun and frolicsome times 😉 Oh, so many questions…

On cloning… Poppy mentions DNA at one point, so genetics must have some effect in the trolls’ world. Branch and Poppy’s siblings look similar but not identical to them; brothers and sisters, not clones. Did each set of siblings truly come from a single parent? Then what about how some trolls seem to have two parents, like Cooper and Prince D’s parents? Their sons are twins who share identical coloring, but neither matches their parents. That suggests two-parent mating, not cloning.

Maybe it’s optional. Some animal species in our world can either self-clone or mate with others, if there are mates available. Maybe trolls are the same way.

Or, magic is involved. The fact that Bruce and Brandy reproduce together baffles even them. I say it’s got to be yet another magical-hair-related ability, fueled by more magic than they know they possess.

Of course, the trolls’ world itself could be considered magical. It has physics that wouldn’t work in our world, like seeing sparkles and musical notes in the air. Talking, self-aware clouds. Water made from glitter. Creatures like glowbugs that shouldn’t even be able to fly, let alone carry trolls. Animals with books growing out of their faces. Seriously?! Enlightened gurus like Cybil (and, I suspect, Tiny Diamond) can float. Which proves that Creek wasn’t a true guru – he used bugs to carry him and make it seem as if he were floating.

So we might as well call alternate-world physics “magic,” yes? 😉

I hope you all had a great holiday 😊

[thecubspeaks]

[Gale/Shadowheart, because my boss is randomly not in today]

The water laps softly against the dilapidated dock and Shadowheart beckons him over. The others are discussing plans, swapping gear, the air heavy with an inexplicable certainty that this is a point of no return. Gale sends her a silent, questioning look, but approaches, tucking themselves just far enough from the others that they can speak quietly and not be overheard.

Shadowheart just looks at him a moment, green eyes solemn, her pale hair bright even in this dim underground light. She reaches out and lays a hand on his chest, over the orb. Automatically, he lays his hand on top of hers.

“She never took it away.” Her voice is very, very quiet.

“The orb? I’ve explained, she will once I–”

“The spell. The charm Elminster brought you. To detonate it, should you need to. She still wants you to be able to do it.”

Gale can’t speak for a moment. But such moments never last, for him. He forces out a laugh. “I could hardly bring her the crown in that case.”

“Then why didn’t she take back the spell?”

It isn’t like that, he wants to protest. Shadowheart has seen the worst of a goddess’s vindictiveness, and– well, yes, at times Gale has felt that he has, too. But Mystra has forgiven him, or at least begun to. He has promised his way back into her grace, and she will cure him. This is the beginning now.

But none of that actually answers Shadowheart’s question.

Shadowheart clenches her fist in his robes. She, of course, knows all too well what it means in those vanishingly rare moments when even he cannot supply something to say. She is one of the only people– perhaps the only person– with whom he feels he can be silent. But this is not the easy silence that settles on them when they sit together in the early mornings, she in prayer and he in study, or at the end of a long day when they have both tapped the very depth of their magical ability and just sit, slumped together on his bedroll or hers after everyone else has gone to sleep.

When Gale can’t break it, Shadowheart does.

“You can’t. You have to promise.”

He tightens his hand around hers. “I can’t promise that.”

“You have to.” She squeezes her eyes shut. The first time he saw her cry was only a tenday ago, when he held her in front of a crumbling statue of Selune and felt his eloquence fail him once again as he tried to reassure her that she had freed her parents��� that she had done the right thing. He can hear the threat of tears now, but they haven’t fallen. “I can’t… I won’t let you.”

“We cannot know what we will find when we reach the brain,” Gale says. It feels like something inside of him is crumbling apart. The newborn confidence, perhaps, that all could go back to the way it had been. That he could be himself, Mystra’s Chosen, once more, and the rest– the orb, the demand she made– could somehow be forgotten. That he could unknow what he has learned about the whims and will of gods. “If it comes to a choice between me or the entire world…”

Her eyes flash open, and she pins him with a look of fierce determination he hasn’t seen in a long time– perhaps even since the Shadowfell, since Shar spat her out a crumpled heap on the ground, looking like something inside of her had broken for good.

“I choose you. I choose to believe in you, in us.” Her gaze softens slightly, but there is still a stubborn set to her jaw. “If this is the end, my love, then it’s the end for both of us. But I have had enough of loss.”

“I don’t want to die,” he whispers, his own voice growing rough. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Then promise, you idiot,” she says. “Now is not the time to suddenly discover humility. There will be another way, and you will find it. So promise.”

He laughs and bends to kiss her, heedless if the others see– and for once, she seems to be, too. But they’re either too distracted, or uncharacteristically decide not to comment. She holds him tight, too tight, and then lets go. Tears shine in her eyes, but they still don’t fall.

“Let’s go,” she says.

“Let’s go,” he agrees. “To victory, my love.”