#i also didn't go into it because there's really no way to know and it's already hard enough to refer to that character

[suiana]

yandere peacock x humming bird darling? :3

dont know about the humming birdbut i can DEFINITELY do peaCOCK yandere

in a world of demihumans, male peacocks are known for their bright and vibrant feathers. it is said that these feathers are usef to scare predators away and to attract any potential mates. however, in a society where looks are becoming more of the main focus, male peacocks have started to just use their flamboyant feathers to appear, well, more flamboyant. especially that one, your neighbour.

he's a flamboyant man, that's for sure.

he moved in next door and you haven't really saw him much. that was, until, he heard your singing and went 'holy crap, you're a beautiful singer'. well actually, you don't know if he said that. but he only started showing interest in you after you caught him standing outside the door to your karaoke room.

conveniently enough, that was when he started showcasing his... army of feathers, passing by your door several times as other neighbours complained about him blocking up the whole damn hallway. you live in a tiny apartment complex after all. that meant tiny hallways and little to no space to walk if someone decided to spread his feathers and pace up and down a certain door.

you don't know what to do except tell him you're not interested repeatedly. because let's be honest, do you really think this guy is gonna leave even after you reject him? he's just going to come back for seconds and say that he's simply showing his feathers because they're beautiful! not because he wants to woo you...

that definitely didn't happen already. yup, definitely not.

"𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓰𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓸𝓾𝓼..."

"good morning."

a quiet sigh escapes your lips as you lock your front door like you always do. lately though, you think that your door might be broken. it's always open whenever you return from your job. did you not lock it tightly enough? also for some reason there's always a hint of expensive floral fragance in the air. were you hallucinating? maybe a neighbour just bought some flowers?

well whatever, you'll just get a locksmith to see to your lock soon. maybe this weekend? as for the floral scent, it's no big deal. the scent is rather pleasant so you don't mind.

"heading to work, beautiful?"

you nod your head. yeah... another day of work at your boring job. you're really wasting your potential as a hummingbird demihuman. you could've been a famous singer by now!

orrrr... maybe not. you'd lose all your privacy if you became famous. no way in hell did you want that.

"be careful my pretty, i heard there's been a ton of accidents on the road these days. wouldn't want my neighbour to get hurt now, huh?"

oh how considera-

and there he was, flashing his damned feathers at you as a mysterious sparkle flashes around him. this... this stupid golden light that seemed to shine down on him, illuminating his godly sculpted features even more.

what a damn adonis.

no, he's more like narcissus. always admiring his beauty. you swear you've caught him staring at himself in a mirror store before while out shopping. that was one hell of a time.

you deadpan at him for a moment, just staring as he strikes pose after pose, body carefully twisted in such a way that would show off not only his feathers, but also his slender body. he's gorgeous, you have to admit that.

"have a good day neighbour."

"𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓸𝓸 𝓭𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰- wait what? you're leaving already?"

your peacock neighbour deflates IMMEDIATELY, lips turning down into a pout as his feathers grow soft, falling down behind him. do his feathers act like a dick? you've always wondered that. they get hard and erect and soft sometimes. maybe you should ask him that someday.

"yeah, i have work dude. i'll be late if i stall any longer."

you waste not a single second before leaving him behind to pout childishly as a dark aura envelops him. you swear you even heard him mutter something about showing your boss who's in charge. what a weirdo. how would he even know who your boss is? dumbass.

what a weirdo your neighbour is, am i right fellas? definitely don't want him as your secret stalker, that's for sure! haha!

[womenl0verr]

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧.

|| 𝐂𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧-𝐣𝐮 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

|| 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬!: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐬, 𝐫 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

|| 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐨, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫?

|| 𝐀/𝐧: 𝐒𝐨 𝐮𝐡𝐦... 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧-𝐣𝐮! 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐢 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠, 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲!! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢 𝐫𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐥! 𝐈’𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐬! 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐢 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐢 𝐚𝐦 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟.

As always, your morning was filled with happiness and joy. Yes, you do feel sadness, though you'd rather get through the sadness by the help of staying happy. Even if it means getting beat by the loan sharks that threaten your life every single second of your pathetic life. Their words not yours, so that's how you ended up here.

Dress in a green jumpsuit, with the number 192. The big room was filled with people, with their own numbers displayed on the back of their jackets. Soon the first game started.

Deadly, yay!

Then the second, you walked around the room, your hands fiddling with the hem of your jacket as you searched for members. It was good that you were also confident (enough) and friendly, you thought at first that getting four other people to join you was easy.

But one look at you and they say no. You understood them, you're really understanding also yay? But you understood that they didn't want you in their group. By one mere look, it was obvious you were frail and weak, it didn't also help that the next game was a secret.

And just when you were loosing hope, you walk past a group of four, knowing they would probably say no to you too. Especially when most of them are women already, and the only man looks...

"Hey." A deep voice called out to you from behind. "Yes?" You turn around, an automatic smile came on your lips. "Do you want to be in our group? We're missing one more member."

And with that you put on a genuine smile, and with a nod you found your team. Your right leg was strapped with the tall woman's left, and every time you would mess up she would be there to comfort you and help you.

She's really sweet. And beautiful.

After the game ended, you automatically went to your designated bunk and laid there, starring at the metal bunk on top. Trying to calm your breathing as you had just witnessed multiple death and so much blood.

You were definitely new to seeing this, your life, which was once filled with sunshines and rainbows went away with a blink of an eye. You thought of multiple way to try and get over this, yet none could ever work.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the same tall woman's earlier, which you now learn is Cho Hyun-ju, pretty name for a pretty woman. "Hey, do you want to go stay with us instead? It would be good to stay with people." She smiled as you did too.

With shaky legs you get up from your bed and walk with Hyun-ju towards the small space they occupy. The rest of the team talk with amongst each other and laugh of course, until they reach a certain sensitive topic about Hyun-ju.

"Wait, you're trans?" You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "Yeah." She nods with a soft chuckle. "I didn't know that." You mumble. "Really? With my deep voice? And adams apple?"

"Well, the adams apple thing, i thought that a rare percentage of women have it, and the deep voice was because you're a contralto or something." You shrugged your shoulders, and with that she chuckles once again. "And you're really pretty." You subtly add, looking down at your lap.

She blushes and gets flustered at that. The little moment was cut off by a loud noise, and the last players enter the bunk room.

Then the next game happened, and everything went to hell after that. Young-mi died. The only person that you thought was just like you, died. She was too young to die, every one here is too young to die. Except for player 100. He can drop dead anytime.

After her death Hyun-ju mostly kept to herself, you were there trying to somewhat cheer her up. "Hyun-ju." You say coming back to her with a roll of gimbap in hand. "Eat up." You say with a small pout as you bring a piece of gimbap near to her mouth.

"You're gonna need energy, Hyun-ju." You offer her a small smile. "Fine." She huffed giving in and eating the gimbap. "We can share this one. I can't really finish this." You tell her with a big smile as you eat a gimbap.

After a few minutes the two of you finish your gimbap, and soon enough it was time to close the lights.

You and Hyun-ju hid under the bed as the lights went out the killings started, you closed your eyes and covered your ears. Hyun-ju noticed that and instinctively wrapped an arm around you. "I'll keep you safe, i promise." She whispers to you.

And you fell, at that moment. You fell for her.

The lights went on, and then it was time for you guys to move. You acted as if you were dead for a distraction so Hyun-ju could grab a gun. You helped Hyun-ju kill the guards, though you weren't an exact pro at using guns, you still knew something.

"How are you good at guns?" Hyun-ju chuckle as she killed a guard, the two of you hid behind to reload. "My dad was an illegal arms dealer, he thought me a thing or two." You chuckle. "But you're so..."

"Bright? Joyous? Full of glee? Beautiful?" You giggle as the moment fully took over you, your eyes boring into Hyun-ju's.

Though that moment ended quick, by a gun shot sound.

Oh, and also a bullet entering only your arm, thankfully. "Hyun-ju." You mumble gripping the wound tight as she killed the guard. She carried you towards the nearest bed, carefully setting you down.

"Hyun-ju, i'm fine." You choke out a chuckle, as blood poured out of the wound, she ripped a piece of cloth from the bed sheet and wrapped it near the wound tightly.

Geum ja (i don't know if i got the name right) arrived helping you with the wound. "I promise, i'm fine." You smile widely even after getting hurt. "Now go, explain to them how the gun works before they kill themselves." Hyun-ju reluctantly walked away, her eyes glancing over to you.

"You like her don't you?" Geum ja teased you. "I don't." You mumble looking down at your lap as a pink blush covered your face. "You do. Don't lie to your elders." She warns. "If you do, you should go for it. Ask her out, the two of you are very beautiful ladies. You have my blessing to marry her."

That shocked you, a lot. "Woah, marry already? I haven't even asked her out yet." You laugh with Geum ja, and at the right moment Hyun-ju glanced at the two of you. The sight of seeing you laugh making her heart melt.

"Geum ja, please look over her." Hyun-ju told the older lady, whilst you raised a brow at that. "What do you mean?" You slightly chuckle. "Y/n, do you really think you're in the state to fight with us?"

"Yes, to be frank. I do think so. I've been through something much worse." You nod your head, your smile faltering. "Honey, don't." You fell even more at that.

"Don't, i can do this." You mumble standing up and walking towards the guns to get one. "Y/n, stop." She held your wrist tightly, halting your movements. She pulled you behind one of the fallen bunk beds. "Stop. I am not gonna let you die. I told you. I would protect you, right? And i am not gonna let you die."

"Why? Why do you think that i'm gonna die there?" You argue with her, (first argument with the loml!) "you have a gun wound. You can barely move your arm, do not test me." She points a finger to your face. "I'm sorry." She apologized soon after.

"I..." like you. Hyun-ju thought as she gripped your hands with hers. "Fine, i won't go." You mumble looking down at your shoes. "Thank you." She smiled lifting your head by pulling your chin upwards with her finger.

Hyun-ju and the others, grabbed guns and ammunition whilst getting ready to head out. "Hyun-ju." You called out to her. "Before you leave, i have to say something."

"What is it?" She asked with a small encouraging smile.

"I-I don't really know how to do this but, i like you. Like i really do. I don't care what people will think about us, i honestly only care about what you think. I liked since i first saw you, your dark eyes gazing into mine leaving me to feel completely hopeless. And whenever i'm around you i feel as if like i'm protected. And i promise you, when we get out i will treat you—if not better, than any person can. I will respect you, always. A-and.." You trail off as you grab a ring on my hand and put it on her pinky.

"This a promise ring, for both of us. I promise to treat you like the best girlfriend ever, and always love you through sickness i will always take care of you. But, promise me. You will make it out alive with me, or without even. Just make it out alive." You say, finishing your rambles.

"Shit, i accidentally proposed didn't i?" You cursed under your breath which she chuckled at. "What ever it was, yes." She nods, her head leaning down slightly to capture your lips into a kiss.

"I promise." She intertwines your pinkys before she leaves, you blow her a kiss as she closes the door.

In the end, the promise was kept. You two did get out of there alive and wealthy, the both of you went to thailand, got engaged, then adopted multiple cats.

Every once in a while, the both of your visit Geum ja and her son in korea.

And you both lived happily ever after!

[sheep-from-rad]

About the Reader who became Jason's roommate and all. I wonder what if they were so cold and distant with the family, they made sure for them to know that they are not a family. (They already closed their heart).

It can be things like, in class they won't talk with Tim unless they have to, like having a project together and if they do they'll only talk about the project if he tries to talk about something else she changes the subject or shut it down. All with a smile on their face, the way they talk is too professional and they won't let him involve emotions. "We are only talking about what needs to be talked about" they say.

The less subtle with Dick, Bruce and Damian because they come to them as vigilantes. Waking up to Batman and Robin cuddling them. They snap at them. Because first, "when did dressing as a furry and making kids fight crime with you turned to doing that to stalking civilians? And you claim to be my 'family' yet what family breaks into the house of someone and touches them in their sleep? That's not like family behavior but one of creeps!!"

They also snap at Dick for coming to them in his Nightwing costume. "Are you trying to put me in danger by associating me with your vigilant persona? What a good hero- what a good 'brother' you are."

With Jason, what if the reader didn't snap at him till now and told him about the three show up as vigilantes to a civilian, using his protectiveness against them in that way.

I don't know how may readers treat Jason but I can imagine that they don't cook for him and they don't eat what he cooks for them. They keep personal stuff like tooth brush and all of the personal things in their room. If he comes with injuries they will give him a first aid kit and clean the mess he made but mostly won't help him unless it is something he really needs help in like bandaging his back. Stay in their room for most of the time they are in the apartment.

I can imagine reader apartment hunting after Bruce by there's and stuff but also what if Reader got a better job that can help in that? What if the Reader decided that they will pay Bruce rent because to them he is nothing but their landlord? What if Reader managed to find another place to live in and became the roommate of a friend?

If the fam asked them to hang out or visit the manor they'd use the same words who were used against them when they were in the manor like "not now" "I have more important stuff to do" "don't you have other things to do?" "Go bother someone else" "stop nagging me". So it's like how they used to treat the reader at the manor.

I also feel like what they are trying to do is swipe things under the rug so, I can imagine them reaching the point where they try to confront reader and they just say "after treating me like nothing in my most valuable times of my life you think you can waltz back in my life and play family and I'd welcome you whit open arms? What kind of delusion is this?" "You are not my family and made it clear from day one. You can't just take it back, not after all the damage you've done."

Original fic: Jason's sidecar (Yandere Batfam x Neglected!Reader)

Titling this as 'Batfam trying to reintegrate themselves back to reader's life'

Masterlist

Jason had anticipated it. He was a child of neglect as well not just from his original parents but also partly from Bruce. He blames himself too when it comes to you. He’s the smart one next to Tim and he had read a lot of books on how to end the cycles of neglect and emotional abuse and yet he wasn’t able to help you. He may not say it but he feels like he deserves the current treatment he’s getting from you. And honestly, he’s fine with it. He’s fine with the coldness, he’s fine with the emotional distance. He’s fine by just being the shadow in your apartment who tucks you in your sleep at night whenever Bruce and Damian are out. 

Tim is not satisfied with it. He will pull strings to make sure that you and him will always be on the same assignments and projects. If he’s not in the same group with you then he will quickly bribe the weakest link in your group to swap with him. Tim would also use his bad sleep habits as a weapon. It started with him passing out of the class and the professor having to call you to get him home and now the professor has you on speed dial (do people still use speed dial) whenever it happens. Most of the time it’s just a ploy for you to go home to the mansion because sometimes you can’t just say no to Alfred. 

Bruce and Dick were hurt but it makes sense. The cowl and the masks protect the cities but too much attention is just as dangerous. At the end of the day even when they are tired, they have made it a habit to change clothes before coming to see you. Bruce is saddened over the fact that his relationship with you became transactional but much like Tim he would find ways to outsmart you. Whenever you pay him rent every month, he would slip back a hundred or two in the less conspicuous places. Most of the time you end up thinking it’s just money you forgot about. If you have those physical piggy banks, he will surely slip the rent back little by little. Dick would make it a part of his routine to be on constant lookout on Gotham’s apartment rent and leasing. Everytime an apartment lowers its initial rent, he would immediately book it and give it to a poor citizen (he’ll do it in secret and help citizens pay for the rent and even find a stable job to keep the apartment). He is also on the constant lookout in other cities as well with help of his other friends. 

Damian hates it. He thinks you’re being a brat and that you’re doing it for attention. The estate is the safest place in Gotham and you left it for independence? Why would you ever gamble your life for it? He wasn’t in the whole ‘get you back home’ plan and he respects your decision on leaving even though he hates it. He wasn’t on it until he found his fist clenching hard as he stood inside your now empty room at the estate. He knows of emptiness and yet the feeling of you being missing in that very room felt like he’s falling down the abyss. Bruce holds you two tight every night but Damian will hold you tighter. Arms tight on your midsection and head on your chest. He’s partly glad those grip training worked off.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Hiii!! is it okay if I request a comfort(?) scenario/headcanons with Vil, Idia, Malleus and Lilia where a female protagonist feels self-conscious about having stretch marks and/or cellulite, thanks (Sorry if it's not spelled well, English is not my native language)

COMMENTS: So... even though I myself am a woman, I genuinely never saw stretch marks or cellulite as something bad or ugly, and I still don't. So maybe making the characters share the same vision as me would be accurate? The only exception to complete indifference is Vil, but not in the way you might be thinking.

Btw, I didn't see any point in writing this in a context other than an already advanced relationship given the topic. Fortunately, the 4 characters are 18 years or older so it doesn't end up being... you know, too weird.

I explain at the end why I couldn't write anything for Malleus or Lilia. But despite that, I hope you and all like what I managed to write. ❤️

CHARACTERS: Vil Schoenheit / Idia Shroud

TAGS: Fluff; Fem!Reader; Comfort; In a Relationship; Suggestive(?)

WORD COUNT: An average of 580 words per character

CONTEXT: I don't think it would make sense for two people to have this kind of intimate conversation outside of a romantic or even sexual relationship. So in that situation, he and you would be in a relationship.

This was an insecurity of yours from the beginning. After all, your boyfriend was none other than Vil Schoenheit. It would be worrying enough if he were a normal model, but he's not only a super model but one of the biggest in all of Twisted Wonderland.

He had already noticed that since you started dating you seemed more worried and less confident about your appearance and that was when he said to you:

“I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. If I wanted to date a model I could do it, but my standards in romantic relationships are others. Different from some of my colleagues in this field. I will always help you to further improve your image if you wish and feel comfortable with it. Please don't see this as me wanting you to change your appearance, but as an attempt to make you as beautiful on the outside as you are on the inside.” He pauses for a second. “However, for some reason, there's something that bothers me about the possibility of making you start living the same lifestyle as me.”

But he would only get the answer to why that bothered him later.

“The truth is: you are my escape. I don't feel the pressure to be perfect with you because... you know I'm not and yet you look at me with more admiration than anyone else. You are my escape from the superficial and futile parts of my professional life. When you live in these types of environments, you start to lose track of what really matters and what really does you good. Thinking about you being swallowed up by this... and losing your genuine smile... because of me... I can't allow it! Please know that no opinion about your appearance matters other than your own. And it wasn't just that that made me fall in love.”

This may have made you feel more comfortable and confident about your appearance again, but as the relationship became more serious and you became more intimate, eventually your problem with stretch marks and cellulite began to affect your mood again.

At home, Vil had massage sessions from time to time not only to help him relax but also for other healthy effects it had on his body. He thought that now that he was dating you, maybe it would be interesting for him to buy massage products and for you to start having these sessions with each other.

“You deserve a massage probably even more than I do.” He tells you, referring to the hardships you go through with Grim and the others.

And that's when he realizes from your hesitation that something about your appearance has bothered you again. He asks you to tell him and that you can trust him. After all, if you couldn't, what kind of boyfriend would he be? And you end up talking about your stretch marks and cellulite.

“I see.” He says understandingly. “I've never had them myself, but I've met many women in the beauty industry who talk about it to each other. Not to mention the advertisements for products for it. Do you remember what I told you when we first started dating and you felt less confident about your appearance? I am the one who needs to be perfect, not you. Furthermore, from what I understand, these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs.” He looks at you seductively. “You don't really think I would have any kind of criticism if you gave me the honor of seeing these parts of your body, do you? Why don't you let me give you that massage? I'll show you what I truly find beautiful about you.”

At first you didn't even think about it. It was only when the relationship started to get more serious and you started to sleep together from time to time that you started to worry.

Especially when Idia started having less of a problem walking around you shirtless. And giving hints about how he would like to see you wearing his shirts, without pants.

One day he says he wants to acknowledge the elephant in the room, but instead of asking why you hide your body so much, he asks if you still don't consider him worthy of seeing his girlfriend comfortably sexy.

“You never hid the fact that you like to see me shirtless.” He says while playing some game on the computer. “I also want to see you like that. Not necessarily shirtless, that's another level, but like, you know I don't like to embody the confident handsome guy who likes to walk around with little clothing on." His hair starts to turn hot pink.” But... I like how you look at me when I do. And what you say. Which I never understood ‘cause I don't even have good physics. But you do! You would be that character that every player simps for.” He sinks into his chair. “But I understand, getting that kind of look from me is disgusting...”

You may have your insecurities, but he has them too. And finally you feel the need and the comfort enough to reveal to him that that isn’t the problem, that you would also like him to find you hot as you find him and that the problem is your marks.

“What marks? Like scars? Don't tell me you have cool battle scars, like doesn't that make a person even sexier?”

You say you're not talking about scars, but stretch marks and cellulite.

“... Yah... sorry, I think I rolled a natural 1 in intelligence for this. What was that again?”

You say they are marks, irregularities and dimples in the skin and that he can search them on the internet. He does that.

“It says that these are natural things that don't do any harm. But they can impact self-image.” He researches a little more. “Wait! Are you trying to tell me that you find these strips and irregularities ugly enough to the point that you have to hide them? THIS?” He smiles mockingly “Oh no! How horrible! Your skin looks like... skin! What a tragedy!”

He will be very happy if you can laugh with him.

“As if I would even notice that. It says here that these marks are usually found on areas around the stomach, hips, breasts, and thighs. Do you really think that if I saw these parts of your body it would be little stripes and dimples that would catch my attention?” The pink in his hair becomes more intense. “I may be a shut-in but don't lump me in with those worms who define their standards based on adult videos. I can assure you that's not what you'll have to worry about if you take your clothes off in front of me.”

He finally looks at you with a seductive look and smiles confidently when he sees that you are flustered.

I really really really tried to imagine scenarios with Malleus or Lilia, but I couldn't think of anything very meaningful.

Malleus wouldn't understand the problem even if you tried to explain it to him because... it doesn't make sense to him. They're just marks. He also has marks, like, on his forehead. Is there something wrong with this?

And Lilia would just laugh for you thinking this is a problem and just tell you to forget about it.

They wouldn't understand, because it wouldn't make any difference to them at all. And that's it.

With Vil and Idia I was able to think of something because they are, like, from this generation, and because one is in the beauty industry and the other is, probably, chronically online, they can see where your insecurity comes from. But for someone like Malleus or Lilia, this type of insecurity has no basis whatsoever. I really don't know what to write with them.

Sorry. 🥺

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[jinlin-at-the-moon]

gonna be a bit nitpicky about the last reblog above, but what is tumblr for if not discussions, so...! i feel like many forget to take into account that airplane didn't originally set up binghe as a stallion protagonist of any kind - in fact, in the original outline, luo binghe never had any romantic interests at all, which is a VERY interesting tidbit that i wish more people would remember, because what the hell was the original outline is something that keeps me up at night.

THAT BEING SAID: personally, i do like to go with the interpretation that airplane was fully aware of his own sexuality, because it kind of makes the whole pidw-as-a-stallion-novel thing more tragic given luo binghe is... well, kind of airplane's self insert in many ways. and, honestly, he probably created the commentary aspect of it that is so clear to us as the readers unintentionally - at least at first; honestly he might have leaned into the irony of it all later imo, given his own seeming awareness of how utterly sad everything he writes is (because let's all face it as a community - given what we know of the original draft, airplane shooting towards the sky was a pure whump writer before he got forced into writing bad het porn for money. this is fascinating to me for other reasons, but i've already gone way off topic for this post, so uhm. another time on that maybe).

also, on the original post- i personally see binghe in general as pansexual-but-severely-demiromantic adjacent, given that, like.... i really don't think one could have sex with That Many Women without feeling something, and i also feel like it would be kind of dishonest to completely disregard him being anything but gay-or-straight when he did, in fact, in the end sleep with all those women and marry them. i do still think airplane's gay though, actually, because binghe's eventual sexuality meta-reflecting airplane's need-money-to-survive based writing decisions is deeply interesting to me- but all this leads back to the demiromanticism that op has already mentioned, in that it's likely bingge never formed a deep enough connection with anyone to truly fall in love the same way binghe had a shot to in his own life. (i'm honestly also of the take that bingge doesn't actually fall in love with shen qingqiu in the bingge vs bingmei extra, but AGAIN that would be material for an orginal post and not a reblog that's already full of me yapping for far too long.) so. yeah, he's just really fucking sad in any universe huh

you know I am willing to give luo binghe massive amounts of shit for being totally deranged because he is such a dick but also like, his very favorite person in the world did open their relationship by abusing him for actual years and then just turn on a dime and start spoiling him

and since he never got an explanation for any of that, even before he got thrown off a cliff into hell he had to choose between rejecting one of three positive personal relationships he'd experienced in his entire life (and the only one where he was getting as much support as he needed) or structuring his understanding of personal interaction so that history was actually cool and okay somehow, and like

literally anyone in that situation would have come out with some fucked-up norms about relationships and boundaries. i can only blame him so much for not knowing where lines ought to happen! his dataset is fucked.

[melminli]

ex, for a reason

summery - your boyfriend was the sweetest guy in the whole world, but maybe that was the problem.

pairing: kang dae-ho x fem. reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: modern au, angst w/ comfort, fluff

the request.

He really shouldn't worry about it as much as he did right now because the whole thing was just totally stupid, and all the stuff that had been going through his head was irrational. Dae-ho knew that and yet, he just couldn't stop himself from imagining multiple crazy scenarios in which you were breaking up with him - he didn't want any of this, why would he? The only heart that got broken in the process was his and it was all because of nothing.

Well, maybe there was this one thing, and that was that Dae-ho had been feeling a bit - well let’s just say - insecure about your relationship. He was very much aware of the fact that he had zero resemblance to the guys you usually date because he wasn't, well - he wasn't an asshole. You and even most of you’re friends make fun of it now that you two are together and it actually turned into some kind of inside joke that you broke the curse with him. Though, Dae-ho didn’t really feel like laughing about it right now.

This whole thing is so stupid, he thought to himself as he absently watched some show on the TV before he suddenly heard you laughing next to him. He just looked at you shortly and knew that it was probably because of something funny you saw on your cell phone. But, he just couldn’t restrain himself and had to remember the conversation you had a few days ago. He sighed again with a heavy heart at the memory because apparently, your last ex - some guy named Thanos? - had messaged you out of the blue and asked you what you were up to.

"Hey, look who just sent me a text. I thought I had blocked him everywhere?" you exclaimed, laughing as you shoved your cell phone in his face. Dae-ho just looked a bit confused at the message after he read it because he didn’t really get what you were talking about. He read it one more time, though, he was still kind of lost because it honestly just looked like a normal message, how was he supposed to figure out what was going on?

You then decided to reveal the whole thing since your boyfriend just continued to send you confused glances. "It's my ex. You know, I told you about him. The one I dated before we met."

Yeah, he could remember bits and pieces of that. "So, what does he want?" he asked, still not quite sure what was going on.

You sighed at his innocence. "He obviously wants to get back together.“

"Does he?" Dae-ho asked and was seriously surprised. He pointed at your phone while he talked. "But he just asked if you still had his old sweater, that could mean anything."

You waved as you laughed. "Oh, trust me. I know what that means.“ you assured him and thought back to the old days, which was something you didn’t like to do. „We were pretty much on and off in our whole relationship because I always tried to break things off after fighting - but then always take him back afterward. So, it just started to turn into a really bad cycle at some point, I guess.“ you tried to explain. „Anyway, he used to text me about some meaningless thing as soon as he wanted to get back together and this is one of those texts since he's also not the kind of person to send you a message if he doesn't want anything from you. I’m just surprised that he would try this again because I broke things up with him for real the last time, trust me.“

Oh. It felt like Dae-ho should be laughing at your ex's desperate attempt to get back together with you now, but he felt more like ugly crying, to be honest. „Yeah, that is pretty funny.“ he just decided to say with a forced smile on his face.

Since then, the whole situation just wouldn't let him go. No matter how hard he tried to. The way you told it, made it seem like you two got back together a lot and who was to say that maybe a part of you wouldn't want to try again - purely because of muscle memory? He wasn't the type to get irrationally angry over something like that, but he'd be lying if he said that all these negative thoughts didn't make him incredibly depressed the past few days.

"Hey, I know I've asked you this a few times now, but are you sure everything's okay?" you finally asked him when you noticed how he wasn't really paying attention to what was going on in his show. It was unusual for him to be so quiet when usually some comment about what was happening would leave him every minute.

He just nodded under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine," he said, feeling guilty again for being the way he was right now.

You moved a little closer to him and hugged him lightly from the side. "You're lying and I'm tired of waiting for you to come to me on your own because, as you know, I'm not the most patient person on earth."

He avoided your gaze guiltily. "It's stupid."

"It's clearly not, because you've been acting like a depressed housewife for days."

He laughed lightly along with you at that little joke of yours. "And how is that supposed to look like?"

You smiled. "You know, you're like you always are - you make dinner, you bring me my favorite tea, but you sigh very loudly every now and then plus you're also a bit distant." you continued to broach the subject in a slightly joking manner to get rid of the heavy air around you two.

Of course, you would be aware of his bad mood. "Well, I just noticed that I'm not like the other guys you've dated before," he whispered casually while playing with the fabric of his shirt. Even though, you both knew that it seemed to be a topic that was bothering him.

You nodded. "So?" you just asked him, thinking something other would follow since you couldn’t see what the problem was. Though, there didn't seem to be anything more coming. "That's all? You’re upset because you're not like my shitty boyfriends in the past?" you repeated a bit in disbelief.

Dae-ho looked to the side, embarrassed. "I told you it was stupid..." he whispered. "I just don’t want you to think that I’m boring or something…"

You just took him in your arms and tried to suppress your laughter so as not to add salt to the wound. "I didn't mean it like that, but I'm telling you this now because you obviously to need to hear it," you said as you placed a kiss on his head. "You're not boring. You’re the sweetest boyfriend in the whole world and I would never trade you for any of my past relationships. I love you and I've never even said those words to any of my exes, did you know that?" you asked him, watching as he slowly looked up to you. "…really?" he asked you shyly, even though you had been together for a while now.

You smiled. "Really," you assured him and were glad to see your boyfriend in his normal happy state again. However, you then remembered the conversation you had a few days ago. "Was this whole thing about Thanos? You don't have to worry about him. I hate that guy, he like probably cheated on me more times than he admitted." you laughed and stopped when something else came to mind. "Besides, I think he also stole some money from me..."

Dae-ho looked at you worriedly as he held you even tighter. "Oh my god, are you serious? You never told me that, is that why you broke up with him?"

You looked away a little embarrassed yourself this time and didn't dare to confess to him that it had unfortunately taken a lot more than that for it to end between the two of you. Those weren't your proudest moments in your life. "Yeah, sure..."

But who cared about all that, right? You were the happiest you could ever be with Dae-ho and that was all that mattered. Maybe you should remind him more of that because he really didn't deserve to feel inferior to someone like that damn Thanos.

[secriden]

There's something so wondrously momentous about Style only saying his "I love you" now, when he realises that all the secrets he was keeping from Fadel are already laid bare.

He says this a significant time after Fadel has said his (and, in the context of the wider narrative, after Kant and Bison) and for the character we have seen as prone to glibness, exaggeration and flippancy with his words, that feels incredibly intentional.

Because this confession was the only truth Style had left to give.

Fadel is finally done playing his (poorly thought out) game, done with his (already cracking at the seams) charade, done with giving Style more opportunities to pull at his heartstrings with his earnestness lies.

Fadel is demanding the truth, and tells Style exactly what truth he wants to hear.

And the thing is, there is truth in this: Style's motivations at the start were wrapped up in a deception specifically targeting Fadel.

I know we, as a fandom, harp on about Style "doing all that for a car", but something I would like us all to revisit is what Kant actually says to Style when he first asks Style to "hit on" Fadel:

Kant: You need to help me. You know I don't usually feel this way about someone. And then shortly later, after Style refuses: Kant: Hey, hold on. (Kant grabs Style's hand.) What do I have to do to for you to help me out? Should I pay you?

(Please forgive my inability to gif and watch Style's reaction to this.) Style is visibly surprised and intrigued. Kant seems to be serious about this request, and I think Style decides to test just how important it is to Kant by asking for the one thing he knows Kant will not give up.

Just look the expressions on Style's face. We didn't have the context of knowing Style back then as well as we do now, but this is the look Style gets when he's throwing out a challenge (to Fadel), when he's trying to ferret out some new insight (from Fadel), when he wants to see how someone (Fadel) will react to whatever outlandish (provocative) thing he's said or done.

And when Kant agrees, Style even checks again if Kant is serious about going through with it -- and it's this that convinces Style of the sincerity of Kant's request.

Yes, the car was a factor, and yes Style also wanted revenge and to humble Fadel, but at the centre of Style's motivation has always been a plea for help from a friend.

In episode 1: Kant: Under one condition. You have to make him head over heels in love with you. Style: I'll do it. Not just for the car, but someone like him needs to be humbled by someone like me.

But in agreeing to help Kant, Style really was damning Fadel to play the fool because Fadel's feelings (his heart) was a commodity that Style was fully willing to play with back then.

And there are aspects of truth here too. When Kant tells Style about Fadel (and Bison) being hitmen, Style decides he's done and wants out. Kant reasons that it's more dangerous for Style to break up with Fadel now, because it would look suspicious, but crucially this isn't enough to convince Style.

So Kant, once again, makes the plea to friendship and to his need for Style specifically, and it is this that causes Style to finally cave.

But in doing so, the things that Style agrees to are:

Kant: Work with me. Help me get more information about them. Once we get that, it's done. Captain puts them in jail, and we walk free.

So while Style may not be directly working with the police, he is working with Kant who he knows is working with the police. By proxy, Style is involved with the police, but in front of the empty pool, he makes it clear to Fadel just what that involvement actually entailed:

Style: Kant asked me to take you out so you could leave him alone and he could freely investigate. Fadel: What did he get out of it? Style: I don't know! That ain't my business! All I was asked of is to take you out.

And this, too, actually is true! Since finding out, Style has literally not discovered a single thing that could be remotely useful to the police investigation:

He's found out that Fadel likes to gym at night. He's found out that Fadel uses tenderloin in his burgers. That he runs in the morning before going to the market. That he attends a grief support group.

But these were all things Kant also already knew and could have given the police if it were in any way useful for the investigation.

Even his attempts to get Fadel to confess to his "other job" (something the police also already know) were clearly in service of wanting to save Fadel and/or convince him to give up the life of crime in the hopes that Fadel wouldn't have to be sent away from Style to prison.

But the truths are tangled up in misunderstandings and Fadel's own assumptions now; and also further tainted again by Bison's own hurt over Kant's betrayal. And Fadel literally cannot see -- because his eyes are filled with tears [see: @thisautistic's gifset + my tags] (good grief, Joong, the actor you are) -- the honesty Style is bleeding from the marrow of his bones.

Because the truth is that along the way Style has also found out that Fadel is a good older brother. That Fadel is still hurting and bleeding inside because his parents were murdered. That Fadel wears his favourite bands' make up in secret because he cannot bear the thought of other's judgement. He's found out that Fadel misses Style, wants Style, and hates himself for it. That Fadel is afraid to love. That Fadel is acutely aware of his own darkness and cannot comprehend an existence that would not involve someone (Style) rejecting it. That Fadel does not believe that 100% trust is possible, but that he will get himself drunk so that he can offer Style as much vulnerability as he can physically make himself give.

Because the things that Style did find out were all the ways Fadel's heart is soft and tender and precious and worthy worthy worthy of all the love Style has to give.

And Style will stand firm on this truth because this is the only thing he has left to give Fadel.

Because Fadel knows, now, all the ways Style was unworthy of his trust, but crucially has not figured out the most important truth:

Because in a very significant and profound way, Style is wholly deserving of Fadel's trust. Because in all the ways that Fadel has ever known he should want, Style actually IS worthy of his trust. Style knows the truth Fadel is hiding, knows what this man is capable of, knows the danger of being in his arms, knows the likely nonexistent future Fadel has to offer him -- and wants him anyway. -- Quoted from my meta post on the "One day, I'll be your 100%" line.

And as I alluded to in the tags on @yinwaring's insightful post: Style fully embodies the belief he espouses; because even in the face of a gun to his head and Fadel threatening to kill him if he will not admit that this, too, is a lie, Style refuses to give Fadel anymore dishonesty.

And this is because Style knows that the truth matters; now more than ever.

Because Style has had days to grapple with his worry after Fadel's disappearance. Style has had a week's worth of checking the diner only to face the regret he feels about not handling things differently. Style has had to recognise the terror of thinking he had lost something he never even knew he wanted in the first place.

And while Fadel had his realisation back in episode 4, Style never had to face this until Fadel vanished from his life and left a gaping hole in the shape of the absence of Fadel's smile.

So if this is what it takes, if this is the penance that Fadel demands of him, then it is a price Style is most happy to pay.

Because Fadel does not realise is that Style, too, now knows what it means to lose a love worth fighting for.

And in the war Fadel now feels compelled to wage against Style (because, yes, that's definitely still going on), the one damning thing Fadel has failed to recognised is that his only true weapon was leaving Style behind.

Which is why Style has already won. Not because Fadel's walls have crumpled again or because they don't still have a ton of things to talk through and work out (they really, really do), but because Style has already been stripped bare (and I mean this literally, like we all recognise THAT was the reason why Dunk is only in boxer shorts in that scene, right?? Like, I know we were joking about it, but seriously, that was so very intentional and a visual representation of Style being both stripped and, most importantly, freed from the lies he felt compelled to tell Fadel) and this means he has nothing holding him back.

And Fadel can wield his gun and his words and his anger and his hurt, but Style will die on the hill of the truth that he knew and understood and chose to love Fadel anyway, and saved this last confession for when he knew he could tell Fadel the truth without any lingering deception; and when the time is right, when Fadel is finally ready, Style will be there to welcome him back with open arms and, without any hesitation, an open heart.

[zepskies]

Omg really? Wow, thank you so much. That's honestly amazing to me, considering this was one of the hardest for me to write in Smoke Eater. 💞

(But after reading your wonderful review, thank you for making me cry. 🥹💗💗)

First of all, please don't apologize for the heartfelt thoughts you want to share with me. No matter how long or short, I love hearing what you think about my writing, and this is genuinely one of the best reviews I've ever received, because I can tell it came from the heart.

What's crazy is my mom and I also used to watch Chicago Fire together when she was trying to recover from surgery (where she had terrible complications and wasn't well for a long time). It became her comfort show, and I was happy to introduce it to her/have that bonding time where it kept her from thinking about her pain. But I'm so glad you thought to come here to perk yourself up after a rewatch.

honestly I have so many thoughts for each wonderful chapter but I would feel super guilty for spamming :’) this chapter in particular though, hits me harder than anything i’ve ever read before — not in a bad way!🤍

lol girl that's the best kind of spamming. I'd never be upset with that! 😂 Oh good, I'm glad it doesn't hit in a bad way. I was concerned about that for readers when I was first posting this part of the story. 💙

my mom had epilepsy, and I was her caretaker pretty much my entire life. I connect so much with this story because it, feels like i’m reading a mirror, if that makes any sense at all. with all the doctors and the worrying, it’s written so authentically, which is understandable after reading your author’s note. i’m so sorry you’ve experienced such difficult hardships and losses yourself honey, I offer my sincere condolences. and i’m sending you the biggest hugs 🫂🤍🤍

I'm sending you the biggest hugs right back, friend. I'm so sorry about what your mom went through, and what you went through too. Being a caretaker is not easy. I've seen it enough in my family that that's what I drew from in order to write this, so I'm glad it felt authentic to your experience. 🫂💞

now these lines/parts specifically had me crying like a baby lol. december of 2021, my mom had to have surgery at the start of the month. her recovery was going a little slow, but well. however she passed away overnight, 2 days after christmas, completely unexpected. the day before she had been doing so well too— she had more energy and was more mobile without needing as much assistance. came to find out later that’s something nurses call a surge? :/ either way, those moments in particular really tugged at my heartstrings ❤️‍🩹

I'm so sorry for your loss, my friend. It is blind sighting when it comes so unexpected like that. I haven't shared this publicly, but something similar happened with my grandfather this past December. His health declined suddenly, to the point we had to take him to the hospital. After seeming to get better after a few days, he went downhill even harder, and he passed away in mid-December. It's not the same thing as your situation, but I understand the feeling of "why did this happen like this?" But now he's at peace with my grandma. And your mom is free from her pain and discomfort too. ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

this line too. I felt this way for so long after my mom died. I didn’t get the final cause for a while since she passed at home and not at a hospital, and to this day I wish I could go back. wish I could’ve done something different. but SUDEP (or, sudden unexpected death in epilepsy) is completely unpreventable so far. I just find it so cruel that this illness I spent my whole life helping her with, ended up taking her anyway and nothing I did mattered in the end. so reading that line, how she broke down, and everything she had been holding in, it really made my heart ache but I also felt less alone in a way.

And I'm sure you did everything you possibly could, just like the reader in this story. 💞 I didn't know about SUDEP, but I have a family member who takes medication for his epilepsy, so I'm going to be reading up on that. I'm so glad that this simple line made you feel less alone in any small way -- I also thought when I was writing that it not only fit what the character was going through, but that other people who've been caretakers for a family member like this would be able to identify with this feeling as well.

everything that followed, it’s like reading a reflection. I shutdown and just went through the motions afterwards too, but ohhh how nice it would’ve been to have a dean ❤️ his support, how he takes care of her, it’s so heartwarming. and it’s really comforting to read. <3

It's that awful "autopilot" thing that somehow allows us to get through the aftermath, in a way, right? If only we could all have a Dean to support us in those moments. Somehow, reading hurt/comfort fics help me feel better too though. 💓💓

a lot of my family distanced themselves afterwards which, it is what it is. that being said, the sentiment in this story of family isn’t always blood resonates with me a lot. my support system is really small, but they chose to be there for me unlike my blood relatives so, that theme in this story means so much — the way dean’s chosen family shows up for her as well, it’s so sweet. 💖

Ugh really? I'm sorry to hear that. 💙💙 But thank you for pointing that out -- that is the overarching theme of this story, a la SPN style. 🥹 Your chosen family can be just as powerful, if not more, than your blood family. And in this story, Dean's family is basically "adopting" the reader/you into it. 💕

I guess the gist of what i’m trying to say, is I wholeheartedly adore this series and it truly means so much to me 🤍 I appreciate your work so much, and I love the unique feeling each piece of your writing brings 💗💗 I know I may sound like a broken record but truly I don’t think I can ever put into words how much I love your blog. you are an absolute sweetheart, truly a light peeking out between cloudy skies 💞

Wow, I really did tear up of happiness. Thank you. 🥹🥹 I appreciate you right back for reading this story and connecting with it like you did. And I'm so glad that you enjoy my blog!! I've only been here on Tumblr for about 2 years actively, but connecting with people like you is what's keeping me here, and honestly gives me energy to write and express myself when I'm going through hard times.

This chapter specifically was very difficult for me to write for multiple reasons, as you saw in my AN, but again it makes me all the more grateful that this is the chapter you connect with the most. I'm very sorry for your loss though. I'm really touched that this story can give you some small comfort. 💞

(And no it's not too much. Thank YOU for taking the time to share this with me.)

Smoke Eater - Part 11

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.

Part 11: “Heart of the Home”

You sat very still.

Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.

You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.

But your life had never been quite that easy.

“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.

He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.

The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.

George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.

“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”

George thanked him.

And you sat very still. 

A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.

His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.

“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”

You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.

Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.

Your fault.

When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.

“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.

“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”

George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.

“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”

“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”

George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.

You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.

You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.

“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.

“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.

He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”

“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”

“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.

“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.

You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”

“Is there something going on?” he pressed.

You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.

“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.

You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.

“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.

“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.

Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”

You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.

You could no longer be still.

Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.

Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.

He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.

“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.

“Normally?” you echoed.

“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”

“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.

George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”

“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”

At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.

Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”

“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.

Benton met the other man’s gaze.

“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”

Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.

Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.

“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.” 

You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”

“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.

“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.

Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”

And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.

He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.

Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.

“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.

“Come ‘ere a sec.”

Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.

“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.

“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.

George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.

“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”

Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.

“How’s that?” he asked.

“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.

Dean’s lips quirked.

“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”

Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.

“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”

George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”

He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.

She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.

“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”

Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.

“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”

George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”

He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.

Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.

Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.

Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.

“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”

“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”

“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”

“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”

“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”

Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”

“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.

“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”

“Will do.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.

Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.

So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.

Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.

However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.

While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.

“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.

“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.

“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.

It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.

On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast. 

“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.

However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.

“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”

She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.

“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”

You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.

“Nothing.”

Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”

“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.

“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.

Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.

“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.

“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”

Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.

“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”

“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”

By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”

“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”

You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.

Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.

All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.

She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.

But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.

By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.

Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.

He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.

“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”

Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.

“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.

“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.

“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”

That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.

Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.

George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.

“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.

“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.

“Just some water,” the older man replied.

“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”

“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.

“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.

When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.

“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”

Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.

“Tell me,” he said.

“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”

Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.

That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.

But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…

He realized that he only had one answer.

“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.

George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”

And that night, an agreement was made. 

In the morning, your grandfather was gone.

Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.

In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.

This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.

But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry. 

He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.

So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.

And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.

“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.

He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.

Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”

You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.

“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”

Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”

You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.

“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.

“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”

“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”

Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.

“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”

You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.

“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.

Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.

Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.

“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.

You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.

You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.

“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”

“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part. 

“I’m not leaving you with this.”

Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat. 

“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.

For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes. 

He’s not leaving you. 

Not like everyone else in your life.

You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.

When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.

It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.

“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”

Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.

“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”

“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart. 

“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”

You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.

Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.

Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.

He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.

Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.

But he couldn’t leave you. 

I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.

“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”

A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.

“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”

You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.

Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”

With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.

“That matters to me,” he told you.

You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”

Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.

“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”

You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.

“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand. 

“For what?” he asked.

“For staying.”

AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.

But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.

Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙

Next Time:

The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...

You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 

Dean smiled.

“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”

You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.

Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.

“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.

Keep Reading: PART 12

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[ooooo-mcyt]

I also can't stop thinking about Scott's closing statement of Wild Life;

"Aw, Etho got me!- I'll take it! It wasn't Joel! Well that was an interesting finale!"

Because this breaks format for a closing statement from Scott.

Think about "You deserve this more, Pearl, Tilly death do us part", think about "My own mean gill..I wouldn't have it any other way", think about "Sometimes you just have to take one for the band"

Usually Scott has a clean and pretty way to wrap things up, a silver lining that highlights the ways his death helped someone else, how he took a measured sacrifice because it was simply how things have to be. Scott's closing statements are always calm clean platitudes in which Scott convinces himself that being a perfect sacrificial lamb is the way he wanted to go out, really.

But at the end of Wild Life, there's actually real energy there. Scott doesn't even mention his team, he didn't have any choice behind his death, and he didn't try to spin it to sound like he "needed" to die. And you know what? He sounded energized and genuinely satisfied. Disappointed about his death, yeah, but he went down in a real fight and he sounds alive because of it, unlike his more..practiced..ending notes.

This is a big reason I love Scott and Joel's rivalry. Because Joel brings out the "worst" in Scott in a way that means Scott doesn't feel the need for platitudes. He doesn't have to be everyone's favorite sacrificial lamb, calm and accepting of his "necessary" death. Scott can act like any other player, running into a fight, dying, and speak freely, bemoaning his death and celebrating his kill without censoring his own feelings down to something easier for him to swallow.

There's a level of immense freedom there that Scott doesn't usually allow himself.

[life-is-more-than-just-a-game]

Can you make a jealous chishiya? Where chishiya tells the reader to thet information about arisu but the reader and arisu gets along prety well and chishiya gets jealous? Thank you.

♠️ Chishiya being jealous about you and Arisu getting along pretty well ♠️

A/N: Hey, sorry for letting you wait so long. Maybe you have already forget that you wrote me this request but I like the idea behind it, so I decided to make this my "comeback". 👀

I'm actually not sure if I understood it the correct way, but I definitely understood you want a Chishiya who is jealous about the fact Arisu and you are get along splendidly. 😋

Hopefully it reaches you and I also hope you will enjoy reading this. ♥️

Characters: Chishiya

POV: gn!reader

Warnings: Not given.

C h i s h i y a

I don't see him being a jealous person actually.

Unless you give him a reason to ...

Chishiya isn't even a person who falls in love easily.

But when he is falling for someone, he falls pretty hard.

So, you have to deal with his feelings and his behavior when he sees you together with Arisu, chatting and laughing together as if there would be no tomorrow.

Okay, to be fair, nobody knows if there would be a "Tomorrow" ... but that's something different!

Arisu may be a great help to him when it comes to collecting all the cards, but sometimes Chishiya thinks Arisu is his downfall.

Especially when it comes to you.

Yeah, but don't think he will talk about it- he is more concerned with hiding his feelings from you than actually speaking about them.

Even if you already have realized something isn't okay with him, he wouldn't admit it.

"I'm used to it that you are not talking much when there is nothing important to discuss about." "I can hear your "but" even though you didn't said it yet." "Then guess what I wanted to say next." "I don't have any problems, I feel fine, no worries."

Nobody said it would be easy with him. He can be as cold as he looks and it's hard seeing through him, even for you.

Still, he can be a calm and cool person as much as he wants- but he's just a human being. You can endure a lot, but at some point everyone reaches their limits.

You and Arisu are talking a lot? Fine.

Arisu makes a joke you find funny, so he watches both of you laughing and having fun with each other? Alright, you aren't his trophy, everyone can have other friends next to his own partner.

But seeing both of you hugging after a game ...

Because you saw someone die in front of your eyes and you are now overwhelmed by many different emotions ...

Well, enough is enough.

"Step aside, Arisu, that's not your part, alright?"

He was waiting for you the entire time you were in the building, so it's not hard for him to find you both outside being ... needy.

"In the future, you'd better keep your hands to yourself." "Excuse me what was that?" "You already understand."

While Chishiya switches positions with Arisu and holds you captive in his arms, he just gives the dark-haired man a warning look.

… Even if unintentionally.

… And unconsciously.

"Well ... I better go then and ... leave both of you alone ... for now." Arisu lets off of you, leaving you to the person who means the most to you. "You better do."

Trying to catch your breath and calm down, you look up to Chishiya and Arisu alternately, feeling the tension between them.

Still, you can't help but start giggling a little.

Arisu und Chishiya both start looking at you now, irritated and confused.

"W-Well, wait ... just to make it clear- is there someone ... really ... jealousy?" "Yes, he is." "No, I'm not", he says calmly. "Okay, then ... let me hug Arisu again ... s-shouldn't be a problem when everything is okay. Right?"

Silence.

You smiling up to Chishiya, who is now biting his tongue and pressing his lips together, not even thinking about letting off of you.

Arisu watching in amusement.

"I'm ... just not fine seeing another one be there for you while I can be there for you. It's my job to cheer you up- even though I'm not the best in it, but I'm trying very hard." "You ARE jealousy, Chi!" "Oi, stop saying this, will you ... ?"

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Something that's ours

Written for round one of the @steddiebingo

Prompt: Basketball

Rated: T

Tags: Modern AU; No UD AU; Steve is Dustin’s dad; Established relationship; Moving in together; Domestic fluff; Found family; Sexual innuendo

Notes: Happy birthday, @thefreakandthehair! It's the Someone who cares boys! It's basketball! It's for you! Hope you have the greatest of days! 🥰

“So,” Robin’s voice crackles over the speakers. The car is a little older and a lot less less fancy than the one Steve used to drive, and he's still getting used to the tinny sound. “That's it, then? You sold the penthouse?”

“Yup,” Steve agrees. “Signed and sealed.”

“How do you feel about that?”

He hums in thought.

“Dunno. I thought it would feel different. I've lived in that place since I got out of college. Dustin made his first steps in the living room. But now that it's gone … It's weird, but all I feel is relief.”

“I don't think that's weird at all,” she says. “That place never really felt like yours.”

“You're right.” Now that the glass and chrome of the skyscrapers outside has made way to the smaller houses and green lawns of his new neighborhood, he feels like he can breathe more freely. “My dad got that place for the son he wanted, not for me. It feels good to finally get rid of it.”

“I'm happy for you, dingus.” Even with the tinny speakers, he can hear the fondness in her words. “Any plans for the shitload of money you got for the place? You gonna treat Eddie to a romantic luxury cruise? Propose on the beach at sunset?”

“Very funny,” he quips, turning into their new street. He's been thinking about proposing an awful lot lately, but she doesn't need to know that yet. “Most of it is going into our savings. God knows we'll need it until I fall back on my- Jesus fucking Christ!”

The tires screech as he slams on the brakes and the car grinds to a stop at the edge of the driveway.

“What?” Robin shrieks. “What is it? Are you okay?”

It takes Steve a moment to tear his eyes away from the sight behind his windscreen.

“I'm fine,” he mumbles when he finally does. “I’ll call you back.”

Then, without waiting for a reply, he disconnects the call and climbs out of the car.

“Eddie? What the fuck are you doing?”

Eddie, perched atop the large folding ladder that's inches away from his bumper, glares down at him, like an angry, curly-haired gargoyle.

“The question is what are you doing? Trying to kill me? Because that's how you kill a guy, Stevie!”

Steve has half a mind to reply that this is how a guy gets himself killed, wobbling around on ladders in the middle of driveways, but he's way to confused. He didn't even know they owned a ladder.

Then again, he also didn't know they owned a basketball hoop, yet here they are.

“Why are you mounting a basketball hoop to our wall?” he asks dumbly. “You don't even like basketball.”

“You wound me,” Eddie pouts as he clambers off the ladder. His hair is tied away from his face with a bandana, his cut-off band shirt is sticky with sweat and there's a screwdriver sticking from his back pocket. Steve wants to bite him. “I said you'd never catch me playing, but I don't mind watching. And besides, we're a good, honest suburban family now. You gotta throw hoops in the driveway.”

Steve is about to open his mouth to ask if he's met Dustin, because the kid wouldn't touch a basketball if his life depended on it. But that is when Eddie picks up the ball he had lying by the garage door and presses it into his hands, and it clicks.

“Wait, what? Is this for me?”

Eddie shrugs. “You said you always wanted one growing up, didn't you?”

Steve nods, a bit dumbfounded. It's true. He always wanted one, but his father said it would damage the facade and ruin the appearance of the house.

“The beauty of having your own place,” says Eddie, leaning over the ball for a long, lingering kiss, “is that nobody gets to tell you what you can and can't do, right?”

“Right,” Steve says. He knows he's grinning like an idiot, but he can't stop it. Not like he wants to. He wants to take this house and make it a home, wants to fill it with all the things that are unabashedly theirs. His sports equipment and Dustin’s science stuff and Eddie's books. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome, sweetheart.” Eddie wipes his flushed face with the hem of his shirt, grinning at the way Steve's gaze catches on the naked stretch of his chest and stomach. “Now, Dustin won't be home from school for another hour or two. How about you try this out, work up a bit of a sweat … and then we hit the shower together? There's some other balls I wouldn't mind playing with.”

More Steddie Bingo

[beyond-far-horizons]

'Ati was once a kind and generous man, and you saw what became of him.'

Just one line from an epigraph of Way of Kings that isn't really related to the main narrative at the time that lives rent free in my head.

This line made Ati one of my favourite Vessels, if not my favourite. Ruin in Mistborn has always been far more intimidating that Odium (the god of literal Hatred) for me. Then we learn that this being was once the total opposite and, if he were ever free of Ruin's influence or 'Intent' would be distraught that he had become something that he loathed. The tragedy of Ati just in the background of the cosmere meta story just makes me feel so sorry for him and love him. I just know Brando is going to make the eventual origin story for the Vessels so tragic.

But two things:

First, his characterisation of Ati is quite inconsistent. In one WoB he implies Ati is quite weak and unable to resist Ruin's destructive impulses, which is in line with what we see in Mistborn. He pretends to be compassionate, but he's sadistic and revels in the destruction he creates. But later, Brandon says Ati actually forced Ruin's Intent into a safer version of 'Entropy', indicating he was strong-willed. Problem is Ati talks about being a version of Entropy, but he's laughing ecstatically at the planetary destruction he's causing (horrific, but also wonderfully hammy and why wouldn't you?) and causing people to horrifically murder each other. That doesn't say Entropy to me, that's scarier than Odium. So which is it, Brando?

Second, I've always wanted to see Ruin go head to head with Odium and I didn't like WaT's implication Ati was afraid of Rayse, because if he's that far gone with Ruin's Intent, my boy would totally be up for a fight! I wish Brando had just said, Ati wanted to help - he's totally up for some Ruination - but he was restrained by Preservation at that point. (Tanavast, you wouldn't have wanted Ati's help at that stage, lol, all of you would would be in the firing line. Except maybe Cultivation, I think her and Ruin make a great pair.)

cannot stop thinking about "Ati, perhaps kindliest among us, who had boldly taken up Ruin." the mistborn brainrot never stops. he was the kindliest among them. the man that became the ruin we know, that the final empire crew had to defeat, was the kindliest of the sixteen Vessels. hello is anyone out there

[mysoftboybensolo]

Things I Don't Understand of Audiences Reaction of Nosferatu 2024

Complaints of how this is a ripoff of Dracula, and I am like, of course it is! The original 1922 film is the most famous ripoff in the history of cinema, but it is also one of the best ripoffs ever. Maybe know your history just a bit.

Why are people saying that Ellen dying was stupid or unnecessary? Firstly, that has been the ending in the 1922 and the 1979 film, this wasn't just anything Eggers pulled from nowhere. Secondly, people don't seem to understand that the Gothic genre never not one that allows it's characters to walk away unscathed, whether it is physical damage or mental damage. Blood is demanded, and hardly a truly happy ending is found, at best a bittersweet ending or at worst an ending where everyone is unhappy. I think not only is it true to the films this one is based on, but also the only satisfying ending. Ellen wouldn't have been truly happy if she had survived, because she still will be a seer, she will still have darkness looming inside, and Thomas is either incapable or unwilling to accept it. He's belief that killing Orlok will bring a reset to everything, even bringing Ellen back to how she was before, but the Ellen she was before was still suffered. He brushes aside her nightmares without comfort, he doesn't take into account how she views their marriage (when she insists that she doesn't need material things but he acts as if he knows better), and when she tries to express her suffering, he would prefer her to suppress it. She would never be truly free, but to die doing a good thing, to have control over her death the way she didn't in life, it's an empowering end, if bittersweet.

People complaining about the pace of the film, saying it starts off fine but then drags in the middle? I think the film flowed wonderfully, there was never a moment when I was thinking how much longer to the end or felt it rushed in the story. I personally cannot wait until we get the extended version, but I am happy with how it came out.

Where are people getting "Orlok groomed Ellen" from? Grooming is when someone goes after a minor and gets them to be emotionally attached to them for a long period of time in order to achieve some sort of goal (often times sex). People have been saying Ellen was a "literal child", but we don't know that for certain. Yes, Ellen described herself as a child, but it seems that the term child is used more as a synonym of "inexperienced" or "young". Also, we are not sure how old any of these characters are. If we were to go by actors ages as guidelines, Lily-Rose Depp was 24 when filming this, and all we get in between the first scene to the present day is merely "years later". That can mean two years or ten, we cannot be sure. And while Lil-Rose Depp can look younger than her age, no one better try and say she was playing a 12 year old or whatever in that first scene, because there is no way you can convince me she is as young as that. Also, Ellen hadn't been emotionally attached to Orlok between the years to make it grooming. I can make a better argument of grooming in another famous Gothic movie the 2004 "Phantom of the Opera" then I could with "Nosferatu".

Listen, this movie won't be for everyone, that is fine, but what I have an issue with is saying people are dumb or evil for thinking Ellen x Orlok is interesting/has romantic elements to it. One person commented on another's post about saying that the cast are dumb for seeing this as a love triangle, especially Lily-Rose Depp for not seeing Ellen as a victim. The director, who also wrote it, wanted this version to play up the Death and the Maiden themes, that was their vision, and I don't think it's right or fair to say they are dumb because the original movie wasn't a love triangle. If we were to be really anal about it, so many pieces of media we have we wouldn't be able to enjoy because it's origins are not the same. Sorry Disney's Hunchback fans, you can't enjoy the happy ending because the original was a downer. Sorry Wicked fans, it's nothing like "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz", so it shouldn't be enjoyed. See how ridiculous it sounds? You can debate if whether or not they managed to achieve their goal, but you can't deny that was the intention and say people are dumb for picking up what they had intended.

I also feel that it's quite hypocritical of people to say that the relationship between Orlok and Ellen is evil and creepy, but then go off and say that the scenes where Friedrich has sex with Anna's corpse as "romantic" and Thomas' couch scene as "hot", when both deal with dubious/no consent at all. Just admit it, you are fine with dubious stuff so long as it's a hot guy doing it. The couch scene was quite uncomfortable for me, Ellen is clearly not in her right mind, even if not by some kind of possession, but emotionally, and it didn't sit right what Thomas did. I am not saying he raped her, but she wasn't in the right mind space to have this be a passionate moment. And he wasn't doing because of love or passion, he was doing it because he didn't like hearing Ellen say how he couldn't please her like the Count could. We had seen what they are like when they are in a good head space and the feeling mutual, as we saw in the den of the Harding's home. I feel like this scene wasn't meant to be a hot and sexy moment, but a incredibly distressing moment when two individuals are acting at their worst.

I don't understand how people feel that this film isn't a feminist film. I've seen people claim that the movie shames Ellen and that her not finding out how to stop Orlok is robbing her of her agency. Here's the thing, yes, many characters shame her for what she feels, but the narrative doesn't. As the audience, we feel sorry for her, feel bad for everything she is going through, and given the time period, of course there would be many people (mainly men) who will shame her passions or deny her darkness in favor for a more "womanly behavior". We are meant to see how the human world would never understand Ellen the way Orlok would understand her, why she would have called out a force that is inhuman, because humanity has turned her away. What's fascinating is that Ellen has control of Orlok, being able to call him, speak to him as an equal, and get him, a powerful centuries old being, to admit that she is his affliction, his weakness, and in the end, it's proven right. This mortal woman is able to defeat a supernatural being, all the while him loving her, how is that not awesome and feminist?

In regards to her finding the cure; true, in both the '22 and '79 film, Ellen figure out on her own what needs to be done to stop Orlok, but that doesn't mean '24 Ellen isn't smart or in charge of her own actions. We've seen Ellen say what the future holds multiple times, so it isn't crazy to believe that she would have seen what her fate would have been as it drew closer, and her need to talk to Von Franz read to me as her knowing the cure. When Ellen walks Von Franz to his home, she says that she knows what must be done, and they work together to make this happen, with him promising to keep Thomas away. Out of all the men, Von Franz had been the only one to take her feelings and thoughts seriously, and he does so here, including her in the plan (where Thomas had refused her to help), even giving her the chance to be stop Orlok without interruption. He isn't denying her agency, he's keeping others at bay so she can be the hero.

I like the moustache, just like a Romanian nobleman would have had, exactly what the director wanted. After leaving the theatre, my friend and I were discussing the film, and of course the design of Orlok was brought up, and she said "I liked it, especially the moustache, very Vlad the Impaler". She isn't a massive Dracula fan but she understood what was the inspiration behind it. Y'all are just uncultured swine.

In the end, I love this film, and wanted to just share my two cents.

[genderqueerdykes]

I can't reply to the post directly but I saw a post where you were talking about trans masc erasure especially when you were in college and like....I feel it. I started college in 2003 and identified as a cis butch lesbian because I didn't know there was anything else to be, but also MOST IMPORTANTLY because my "resources" and info on trans men were basically Boys Don't Cry, which every lesbian I knew referred to as a lesbian film and Brandon Teena as a lesbian. There were also vague comments from time to time about Chaz Bono at some point, but again, everyone around me was referring to him as a "confused lesbian". What's frustrating these days is that while there is more information out there and more spaces, there still isn't enough. Like, I learned basically everything I know about my body from Gen Z friends who had better education and affirming teachers. And also finding space when you're almost 40 is an impossible task sometimes. At almost every trans masc group I've attended I've been the oldest by almost 10 or sometimes almost 15 years. It's a really lonely experience. A handful of times we've had moderators who are young and not trans masc and they've talked over me and tried to "correct" the language I use to talk about my experiences - for example, I call myself FTM, and I also say things like "when I was presenting as a woman" or "when I thought I was a lesbian". I use this language intentionally because there were over 30 years of my life where I had no idea of the possibility that I could be anything but a woman and that IS how I identified, and there are over 30 years of experience with that identity that I am still recovering from and that shaped the course of my life in a way that's difficult or impossible to explain without acknowledging it. Part of our erasure unfortunately comes within the community and people not listening to the experiences of others whose journey doesn't line up with the plot beats of a cinematic, linear coming out story (not to knock that if someone has it! But leave room for those of us who don't!). Even though I'm on T and have had top surgery, there's still so much I've had to figure out myself and it's a lonely life. I don't know how to date or make connections (or even if I should! I'm aromantic which I think complicates things sometimes). Anyway I don't know if any of this is relevant but like. I just wanted to say I relate to the erasure stuff. Wouldn't change who I am for anything, but I would change the world in which I had to figure it out.

im really sorry you can relate to this, it affects so many people and a lot of people are proud to say they don't care. it's not okay. trans men and mascs need community irl. i'm bet things were way harder back then, i can't even imagine how hard it must've been to talk about being transmasculine in 2003.

im going to keep my reply brief because i do not want to distract from your experience

[bugslaststraw]

See it's funny because in the games, and in any other assorted media before the movies came out, everyone low-key just hates Robotnik. And not even in the fun dedicated way like they all seem to think he's a bit of a failure. Which sounds weird if you don't know anything about Sonic (and certainly sounded weird to me three weeks ago when I was one of those people) but it really is just genuinely the case. I think?

Obviously his family all hate him. Movie-only fans will have an idea about this one; we've got good old Geralt Robotnik who didn't give a rats ass about him in favour of his long-dead cousin Maria, whom he wants revenge for. Geralt manipulated him and used him and said "oh Ivo you're no Maria" even though Ivo probably doesn't even know who the fuck Maria is in the movie universe and so on, et cetera. Geralt sucks just as much in the games and did approximately the same thing there.

What you may or may not know is that in one of the games, Eggman runs into a descendant of his from generations into the future. That guy's name is Eggman Nega, and he absolutely hates his ancestor. He thinks he's cramping his style? He's trying to go back in time and kill him to restore his reputation as far as I remember. Not to mention he has other family and cousins, none of whom give a flying fuck what happens to him. I distinctly remember someone who's name was Collin but who's nickname was Snively and who also worked with Eggman at some point, but hated him, and then later betrayed him. I can't remember a single family member of Eggman's that actually seemed to like or even tolerate him.

He's had a lot of henchpeople too. Most of them were robots. A lot of them, like Omega, and Gamma, and Sage to an extent (although she was more like a robot daughter he built for himself) betrayed him and joined the good guys too (Sage is another outlier, she isn't exactly switching over I mean she definitely likes him but she definitely isn't loyal either so.??) I mean, Eggman isn't even surprised by the fourth time. Smaller minions like Orbot (and Cubot? another outlier) and their predecessors weren't able to betray Eggman, but definitely would've if they could've because they all disliked him because he's allegedly a shit boss. (Who says he isn't. He's evil after all.)

He "contracts" a lot of spies and stuff too. Animal characters. They all hate him as well, but he tends to hate them in return, so at least those are entirely fair game.

Not to mention all the villains he's conveniently happened to need the same thing as at the start of the game, but become inconvenient to towards the end, so they betray him as quickly as possible to get ready for their final boss fight with Sonic towards the conclusion of the story. There's more of those than I can count or care to remember. He meets his alternative universe self once and they hate each other. There's even a moment in I think the comics where Eggman loses all his memories and temporarily becomes nice, and hangs out in a village and builds things for the furry people who live there. He makes a wooden puppet style robot that also becomes like a daughter to him. She's good at engineering, just like him. Of course when he gets his memories back and becomes evil again she leaves as quickly as possible and later helps Sonic & co. She's very resentful about it all, I've heard.

None of that is surprising, of course. Eggman is an evil villain to the heroes and a loser to the villains. It's funny! It's a joke. They need to introduce scarier villains in the games to ramp up tension but they can't exactly just drop Sonic's nemesis down a hole somewhere, being as iconic as he is... So he sticks around. But as a joke, rather than an actual threat. And it's a little sad, yeah. But he deserves it! He's trying to create some sort of totalitarian egg-state and he bullies Sonic for having friends, for Christ's sake. Why should anyone want to stay loyal to a guy like that- and why should anyone do it at all? Joining the heroes is the cool thing to do! Shadow does it, Knuckles does it, Omega kinda sorta does it, Sage is toeing the damn line from what I've heard, it's...

Okay, it's kind of a lot? I mean I understand having nobody that's a good guy like the villain, but like... Not even his damn henchpeople robots? In a lot of the animated shows and comics he keeps building robot wives for himself that are explicitly created just to like him, by him. That or he's into someone who's into one of the animals, or similar. I mean, it's that bad. And it's like... Nobody? Not even once in like thirty years did anyone come up with the idea to give Eggman?? This behemoth among famous pop culture characters? A loyal henchman?

And- well, okay, nowadays this isn't true anymore. I'm sure we all know why. And that's kind of fun; in 2020, Doctor Robotnik gained his first and only loyal henchperson. Great! But...

Jeff Fowler is a Sonic fan, isn't he. Would he know..?

Would anyone involved in making the movies know that Eggman famously... Doesn't have any friends? That nobody seems to like him? That he's apparently infinitely betrayable? Do they know? Do they know? Is that why the third movie is written like that? Is it not just a character complex pulled out of someone's- I mean, when movie Eggman says that there's only ever been one person who actually liked him and one person who actually cared about him... He's quite literally right, isn't he. As in... Since 1991... Like 34 years since conception as a handful of red pixels in the hottest new platformer game there's actually, literally only been one character..? ooh I think I need to lie down for a bit

[iamnmbr3]

ok unpopular opinion time. hermione was more into quidditch than ginny. i know what you're going to say. but hear me out.

there's no denying that hermione doesn't care about quidditch as much as harry or ron do. BUT she does get invested. sometimes more than she wants to admit. she comes to every quidditch game and to many of the team's practices, just as ron does (even when he's not on the team). she sometimes forgets to be reserved and gets genuinely excited about winning. especially when the rivalry between the houses is high. like after she hits malfoy in book 3 and tells harry he better beat him in quidditch etc.

and yeah she doesn't really care about krum's fame the way some people do, but she's nonetheless impressed by his flying in book 4 and what it says about his character. (also if you ship harmione you could totally read this as her having a type).

ginny, by contrast, doesn't participate in the quidditch talk at all in book 4. and her only real reaction to the game is the moment where she is very concerned and upset by apparently seeing a player injured (and doesn't seem to know enough about the game to realize it is a relatively common and not very serious type of accident - as Charlie is immediately able to see).

it really feels like her getting interested in quidditch later was an attempt to get closer to harry and become his "perfect girl" and get to spend time with him. (joke's on her because harry's reaction to her being on the team in book 6 is to...not really notice and 'never have been less interested in quidditch' because draco isn't there, and apparently having a perfect excuse to spend time with his alleged crush isn't enough to keep him engaged.)

jkr is weirdly sexist and so ginny being into sports makes here '#NotLikeOtherGirls' and thus superior. it's supposed to show how ginny's superior to hermione and harry's perfect girl TM or whatever. but... it doesn't really fit with canon. ginny's character thru book 5 was fine as it was. out of universe jkr didn't need to totally retcon it. and in universe ginny shouldn't have felt that she needed to turn herself into another person to get harry to like her. that isn't healthy or sustainable.