#i wanna read a hundred pages of it

[clenastia]

when your brain rabbit traills from your task and you re-read an old original ficlet and you sit there like bruh where's the rest of it.

and there is no rest of it.

because you never finished it.

but you love it.

(you also do NOT want to finish it)

[br-kker]

I hate flying through books so quickly and not enjoying them to their fullest extent

[starbuck]

My new favorite activity is scrolling through the black sails tag and commenting my interpretations on random people’s posts and they’re like “wtf are you talking about?” and i’m like 👍🏻

[applestorms]

morality in the world of good omens

so i wrote another (admittedly very messy) essay on good omens not long ago right after watching season 2 but after finishing that, rewatching all of both seasons multiple times, and reading through the book, i have a couple more distinct ideas to get out...somewhere...if only for my own sanity. this is me throwing my thoughts into the internet before i pop, if you will. just 3 sections, below the cut.

1. environment, characters, & transformative fandom creations

to start this post off a bit more broadly, i've been thinking a lot recently about transformative fandom and the reasons why we write fanfiction/create semi-original works in the first place, as well as why certain aspects of fandom (writing, art, analysis, etc.) will be more appealing to me for certain shows/series than others. correct me if you have a totally different view of this, but in my experience i've found that i tend to naturally gravitate towards different parts of fandom depending on what the original medium of the story was- podcasts tend to lead to some of the most interesting art trends, for example, since there's more room for interpretation and character design tends to be more of an ongoing community project than something set in stone like for a tv show with live human actors.

in my own observation, i've noticed that a lot of the really big & excitable fandoms, the ones that generate tons & tons of fanworks more naturally (a.k.a. just because of the story itself & not other factors like a pre-existing franchise or hype about new great gay representation, etc.) tend to surround stories that fall into a kind of "sweet spot" that makes the creation of fanworks really appealing. if you've ever wondered why there are so many ravenous artists bending over backwards to draw gorgeous fanart for stuff like homestuck or south park or even minecraft youtubers, it's likely because those stories all fall into a sweet spot for drawing, with character designs that are recognizable at a glance and yet still simple enough that there is plenty of room for personal creative touches. (think also, if you're familiar with such kinds of homestuck terms: hyperflexible mythologies, A4:1524, and/or this archive link cause the official thing is down now for some reason)

the conclusion i've come to is thus that even something as basic as the original medium of a story can dictate a lot about what kinds of fan activities are more common or popular within said story's fandom.

so, back to good omens- for me, this all relates back because of a question i've been messing with in my head recently, about why i've been less interested in fanfiction for good omens than i have been for the last few fandoms i've been, almost all of which have basically broken my ao3 bookmarks.

this question has been fucking with me for a while now, largely because i'm not entirely sure what's motivating it. a lot of times i can figure out pretty easily why i might personally not be interested in some parts of fandom, but that's not really the case here. from what i've seen this fandom seems to be pretty mixed in terms of age, & the writing that i have read is certainly no worse than i've seen elsewhere, perhaps even better in some places- and yet, i can't seem to get entirely into it, even getting frustrated as i can't find something to my tastes for an ao3 bedtime story as i've grown so accustomed. what caught me off guard is that this was an issue that i ran into while watching season 1 as well, back when the series was still quite popular but not blowing up like it is right now.

a lot of this may seem like (and likely is, at least in part) basic overthinking, but i mentioned it all here because the answer i eventually came to is reminiscent of my previous reflections above on the nature of fandom & how/why fanworks are created.

a couple paragraphs above, i used the example of art as an example of how fandoms that generate a lot of original artwork will often do the most when the original story falls into a sweet spot of character design, but notably i think that this sentiment applies to a lot more than just art. if you've ever seen the copious amounts of kpop & hockey rpf fanfiction that lives on ao3, it should be clear that this applies to writing too.

i wrote this essay a while back responding to an observation about the lack of a more extensive symbolic language in fanfiction & i've toyed around with the idea more since, particularly in considering the question of why a lot of what we see as the staples of fanfiction exist in the first place. in that post, my response largely revolved around an argument of why we create fanfiction- namely, that fanfiction is created as in tandem with deeper analysis of the original story/series, as a way of trying to practically apply character analysis to a new context.

the key part of that last sentence to me is how a lot of this revolves around character analysis (and shipping, but really it's the characters that motivate the shipping in most cases so. same difference).

i tend to instinctively separate fanfiction into two separate categories: fanfiction that is based out of the original world/canon of the story (including but not limited to fix-its, deeper analysis fics that take a scene & extrapolate from it, continuations, etc.) and fanfiction that takes the characters from the original story & plops them in an alternate universe/AU. while i separate these out as two distinct categories of fanfiction, i should also clarify that i don't think these two groups are necessarily equal in terms of number of fics- rather, the vast majority of fanfiction tends to be AUs, keeping the original characters & changing any & all aspects of the world around them. again, this may vary depending on the story & Vibe of the fandom at the time, stories like game of thrones or harry potter or homestuck might have a lot more in the canon category by nature of any major dissatisfactions the fandom has with how the original story was told, but in most cases AUs are more popular. this was a lot of the basis behind my argument that fanfiction is created as character analysis in fact, since the characters are the most important part that carries over from original story to fanwork, as well as can end up being one of the most debated/scorned parts when it comes to fandom drift (i.e. "that's out of character"/"he wouldn't do that"/and all other such arguments about fanon vs. canon characterization).

basically, my conclusion in this case was that i was a lot less interested in gomens fic largely because i have a really hard time separating the characters from the world in the case of this particular story. aziraphale & crowley being an angel & a demon and dealing with all of the bullshit of their world when it comes to heaven & hell are such integral parts of their characters in my mind that i have a much harder time getting behind AU fanfiction that plops them in a totally different context. it's just a much harder sell for keeping the characters in character for me. (i also tend to not like s2 fix-its just cause, idk they're just not my style, which is where a lot of the recent blast of energy has led us.) to clarify, this is not a judgement, just a matter of personal preference and a reflection of why, even if a lot of fandoms will look the same from the outside/involve the same things like art, fic, etc., an individual's mileage can vary wildly when it comes to how they interact with different things online.

*additional note, also for clarification: i do want to acknowledge that a lot of this depends on pure popularity as well, popular fandoms will often end up with basically everything in terms of fanworks just by nature of how many people are interacting with & thinking deeply about the story. my point here is more along the lines of the fact that even within the more well-populated fandoms, certain types of fanwork will often Stick Out more to me than others, or even be visibly much more common than in other fandoms, due largely to the original medium/structure of how the story.

so, speaking of aziraphale & crowley in more depth now- why does the world of good omens feel like such an integral part of their personalities when it comes to characterization? up next, let's talk about morality within the context of good omens' perhaps surprisingly secular take on heaven & hell.

2. the amorality of heaven & hell (ft. the crowley quote apples you know the one)

(warning in advance that this section may be a bit limited since i'm not going to get super far (or very far at all, really) into the whole religious-analysis aspect of good omens.)

i've been binge-reading the original pterry & gaiman book for good omens over the last few days and it's been very fun seeing all the slight changes between the tv show & the original. you can really see the hand of the original creators in how the tv show was translated, even just by looking at which parts made it and which parts were deemed worth cutting out. i suppose having one of the original creators right there helping build everything really helps make a book -> show translation work, since the ASOUE tv series was also pretty well received- something about knowing what's the core of the series & truly important to keep in, and having more time to tell the story itself?

anyways, i have a short list of notes that i've been taking as i read, conversations that stand out to me or footnotes that particularly amused me, but i keep coming back to one line that stood out to me quite early on. in context, this line comes from crowley during the conversation where he is first attempting to fully convince aziraphale about stopping armageddon, specifically when they're talking about exerting equal forces on warlock to make him normal:

"You're saying the child isn't evil of itself?" [Aziraphale] said slowly. "Potentially evil. Potentially good, too, I suppose. Just this huge powerful potentiality, waiting to be shaped," said Crowley. He shrugged. "Anyway, why're we talking about this good and evil? They're just names for sides. We know that."

(pg. 67)

"They're just names for sides." if i had to pick one line to sum up the view on religious morality of this series, this would likely be it.

on the one hand, i tend to interpret a lot gomens' take on heaven & hell within the context of its political stance, something that is particularly obvious through a line from gabriel in s2e2 where he tries to clarify to aziraphale that heaven isn't trying to hurt job directly, but instead is just not stopping hell from doing horrible things to him. while there may be some additional nuance to add to this take within the context of british politics that i don't really know well enough to add about, i'm inclined to see this from the side of my own familiar american politics, which might hold some weight considering how long mr. gaiman's lived around here. point is, my current interpretation of that line is that it helps in more clearly establishing the analogy of heaven & hell as the story moves forward into newer seasons and thus more contemporary politics, equating heaven with mainstream liberal politics & politicians and hell with conservatives.

this stance seems to be emphasized even more in the tv show than the book which makes sense considering its been coming out more recently, and especially in season 2 which is still quite caught up in a lot of quarantine-based reflection. (the tv show puts a lot more emphasis on heaven & hell in general, actually, perhaps initially a byproduct of actually being able to see those environments in their entirety and all the angels & demons that populate them- but we'll get to that.)

the book takes a slightly different stance that, fittingly, seems more reflective of the time it came out. in particular, i was struck a lot more when reading the book by adam's rise (fall?) to power, and how much of it was motivated by a burgeoning nervousness/pessimism about climate change and the anxieties of younger generations that comes with inheriting an earth that feels so fucked up. honestly if anything it's only gotten more relevant in that respect, what with the current vibe on the internet & the hopelessness of the doomer gen z gang, but it also has a distinctly different flavor to me from the tv show, which i think is largely because it's less connected to Formal politics since again we see a whole lot less of heaven & hell as such distinct, bureaucratic entities.

instead, there is a very distinctly amoral aspect to heaven & hell that we get through lines like the one above and especially from characters like crowley. this is why i argue that good omens, despite having so many religious elements, is such a deeply secular take, especially when it comes to its ethics & morality- Good and Evil, notably with the capital letters in this case, has very little to do with actual actions and much more to do with the name that you stamp on top of said actions. heaven & hell and the angels & demons that we see directing and watching and generally fucking with aziraphale & crowley throughout the story are distinctly separate from humanity, and as we see even more as the story progresses, distinctly unaware about what it even means to be a human, in both a deeper philosophical & very basic and literal sense. Good and Evil is simply another name for the sides- and thus the true ethics is something separate, and based in a deeply human experience.

in my opinion this is also why aziraphale & crowley, lovers of humanity and also to some degree spokespersons of it from how much they've "gone native," tend to be so deeply at odds with both heaven & hell and always end up agreeing with each other over their own supposed sides. what makes aziraphale & crowley so distinctly different is that they ascribe to the same ethics & morality that humanity does, or at the very least are trying to figure out ethics & morality & How to Be a Good Person in the same horribly messy way that humans do, separating them from the black & white "this side Good & this side Bad," logic that the rest of heaven & hell instinctively ascribe to.

there's a lot of nuance here, which is also why i think there is such an emphasis on moral ambiguity (and love, but we'll get to that) throughout season 2. the story of job, grave robbing, & questionable attempts at matchmaking- aziraphale is working through a lot of Shit right now when it comes to trying to figure out what the Good thing actually fucking is, and i think it's key that a lot of that is motivated by crowley himself. crowley might'e been cast out of heaven for asking too many questions, but aziraphale is there & listening to them & giving them the serious thought they deserve, and that can't be overlooked.

sidenote: i couldn't figure out a place to shove this in, but i also wanna point out that a lot of this is tied to the idea of growing over time too. on the same page as the quote transcribed above is another line from crowley leading up to aziraphale's question that puts a lot of emphasis on the fact that warlock is going to be a product of nurture, not nature. again, this is an argument against basic black & white assigned-at-birth morality for the ability of humans to grow & change over time and be influenced by the people around them.

it's notable that despite adam's supposed origin as a Son of Satan, what really gets him to stop the apocalypse in the end is the fact that he doesn't really give a shit about all this big plans but instead just wants to hang around his friends. there's a lot of emphasis in the book placed on how beautiful & nice tadfield is as a place for a young kid to grow up, how well loved & fiercely protected it as as something beloved to adam. while he might be overwhelmed when faced with the full picture of how horrible the world can be, ultimately what he cares about is loving & taking care of the people & places that he grew up learning were precious, and the only way to do that is to keep growing & changing yourself within that world and trying to help it also grow into something better, not throw it all away just for the slightest chance that you could restart. a message worth taking the time to think about, at the absolute very least.

3. finding morality w/in humanity: crowley & aziraphale and speculation for s3

i have complicated feelings about both aziraphale & crowley throughout a lot of the show and especially in season 2. i think a lot of people, myself included, are inclined to see crowley as the voice of reason in this season, and for good reason- as i mentioned before, a lot of aziraphale's deeper questioning of the status quo and goodness (Goodness) as a whole is motivated by questions from crowley.

i kiiind of mentioned this in my previous essay, but to state it more clearly, my take on crowley is that he's arriving at the right answer for the wrong reasons, and, conversely, aziraphale is arriving at the wrong answer for... kind of also the wrong reasons but also slightly for the right reasons. let me explain.

crowley is clearly much more aware of the flaws in both heaven & hell than aziraphale is, which seems to be the basis behind a lot of his motivation in asking aziraphale so many questions in the first place. he's also, as maggie & nina point out in s2e6, deeply lonely, often running away or getting ready to fight literally anyone that isn't aziraphale (or humans, but that's a little more complicated). from his reaction to beelz & gabriel getting together, i think it's pretty clear that he still hasn't entirely given up on the whole alpha centauri idea, and it makes sense- as i said in that last essay, crowley basically won the argument at the end of the previous season when it comes to aziraphale & crowley, "making [their] own side," so he doesn't have much reason to face any of his personal fears until maggie & nina basically point out that they exist directly to his face. once they do point it out, however, he's very motivated to act & does so almost immediately, even after hearing what aziraphale has to tell him and being pretty thoroughly devastated by it.

my point here is that crowley is correct in seeing the toxicity of both heaven & hell, he's just flawed and largely motivated by fear (up for debate if that's all it is, but i certainly think it's a big part of it) in his desire to run away from it all. it's not quite armageddon, again he's going more flight > fight here, but he's still ultimately giving up and that's not a great conclusion.

on the other hand, as some others on this site have pointed out, aziraphale is certainly showing a lot of strength in his willingness to keep fighting & try to change things for the better, but it's not hard to see how that belief has been twisted. one of aziraphale's biggest flaw in motivation at this point imo is that he doesn't just believe in goodness but Goodness, the kind that's tied to heaven always being right & all actions being morally Good so long as they're done under the name of heaven, and that clearly also isn't great.

thus what i think the both of these two really need ultimately is that deeper connection to humanity, and the ethics born from humans interacting with humans. we can already see how strong these two are when they collaborate, even when they're doing their absolute best to be as subtle as possible, but what i think they need is to once again be grounded by humanity, not to get so caught up in the bullshittery of heaven & hell and Good & Evil, but once again find a goodness defined by the world that they mutually love so much and stick with it.

i keep tossing a question around in my head about whether or not aziraphale & crowley are going to end up human by the end of this series. it feels natural that they would, they're already so at home and in love with earth & around humanity, but i'm also not entirely sure if that would be a happy ending for them considering how long they've watched & loved the world as it's changed. perhaps taking this post into account is another push towards humanity as a happy ending, not running away to a cottage to get away from the world (i just can't see running away to a cottage to be together as as happy ending, sorry- it might work for beelz & gabriel but not for aziraphale & crowley), but choosing to settle down within that world that is so dear.

[these-detestable-hands]

Had to be around people with no hobbies or passions today. I feel sick

[unholyfangirling]

FOR I HAVE FOUND YOU

Ten Times Steve and Robin Didn’t Talk About Feelings

by nbfutureboy

the comment itself was on the 3rd page of comments

go enjoy your cup of snakes you beautiful freaks

[gods-favorite-autistic]

“Ohh why do you read younger teen fantasy books all the characters are like 13 it’s for like middle schoolers” see what you haven’t considered is if all the characters are like 13 then I’m not worrying the entire book that they’re gonna start trying to make out in the middle of battle for no goddamn reason other than he boy and she girl and they both hot

[milaskrypte]

there's a special place in hell for professors who leave long-ass readings/work for the holidays, I swear

[pourquoiyyy]

I'm just gonna keep listening to Goodbye Lonely Heart on repeat and ignore that I have episode 24 to watch

[2hightocare]

PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷

“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—

Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..

Genre: established relationship!

Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)

a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍

for @ohsweetmimosa !!

Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.

Until you met him.

There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.

You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.

“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.

“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.

“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.

He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.

You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.

You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.

Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.

Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.

“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.

“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.

“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.

“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.

Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.

Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.

He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.

Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.

When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.

It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.

“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.

“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.

“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.

“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.

“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.

“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.

“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.

He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.

Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.

“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.

“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.

“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.

“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.

The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.

Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.

“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.

His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.

“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”

Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.

[luveline]

Hi!! Sometimes in ur bombshell reader fics she talks about how she has nervous energy would u ever write a bombshell reader fic where she has one of those days where she just woke up wired and Spencer tries to calm her down?

“Spencer,” you whisper. 

“What?” 

Spencer turns another page. You, across from him with your legs crossed, slouched, poke at his leg gently with your foot. “What are you reading?” 

“It’s just a book on Wyoming land boundaries.” 

You nod. Spencer watches you from across the top of his book, at first without worry, and then an attentiveness that furthers all the reasons you may or may not be in love with him. 

“You okay?” 

Everything should be fine. The case is solved. You’re heading home, without turbulence, two hours at most from touching down after a job well done. “I’m fine.” 

“You sure?” he asks. 

You smile fraughtly. You try your best to be the perfect image, to put that best foot forward, and you nail it ninety nine days out of a hundred. Nobody knows about your nervousness besides you, and that’s how you’d like it to stay, but Spencer clearly cares about you too much to look away. 

He closes his book and sets in on the table, pushing a glass into his hand. “Here,” he says, leaning forward. “It’s not poisoned.” 

You take it. Feeling his gaze, you drink a little sip that immediately goes down the wrong way. Your coughing swallow perturbs him worse. 

People tend to look at Spencer and see someone who needs more help. Even the people closest to him can doubt his ability, but as far as you’re concerned he’s proven to understand emotion quite well. He won’t shake a stranger's hand, he can’t flirt to save his life without notice, but he can make you feel better. He’s good at taking care of you, even if nobody else can see it. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, leaning right over to touch both your knees at once. He pushes your skirt up a half inch with the movement, but his eyes are on your face. “You have the jitters?” 

“Think so,” you murmur. 

“Maybe it’s the air pressure.” 

You’re sure he knows you get like this sometime, but his explanation is kind. His hands on your knees are somehow strangely placed and still a natural feeling. Just like sitting together at his place to watch TV, or elbow to elbow on the train into New York, your boundaries with one another are eroding. 

“Wanna come and sit by me?” he asks, like he’s thinking the same thing. 

You laugh softly. “In all that space?” 

The seat is big enough for a larger person, but not you and Spencer together. 

He squeezes himself right to the side. “Come on,” he insists, sitting back, “just sit with me.” 

“I’ll squish you.” 

“So squish me.”

You think about it before setting your traded glass down. You don’t know why you have these weird moods, you don’t understand what it is about Spencer that can make them feel better, but he’s offering to make it go away. You have no real reason to turn him down. 

In the end, you sit in the chair beside him, ignoring Hotch’s perturbed look as you stand and then quickly plop yourself down at Spencer’s side. Your thigh has to go completely on top of his, but otherwise, it’s not so bad. It’s more room than you thought. 

It works quicker than you could imagine. With both of your heads held back the space between you is still minimal, which means his face is in detail. His hair brushed back and with the barest traces of gel, a little curled, what had Hotch said? His boyband hair.  

Spencer turns toward you, eye shadowed as he presses his forehead to the chair. “Is it just jitters?” he asks. 

“Sometimes I think I get… weird,” you say. 

“Me too.” He pulls your leg further into his lap. You’re shocked at first, but it’s a friendly move that takes the strain off of your knee. “Can I tell you something?” 

“Of course you can.” 

“I’ve started to care a whole lot less about being weird since I met you.” 

You fight the urge to touch his hair. “I don’t think it’s about caring, Spence, I just.. don’t feel right.” 

“Okay.” He nods sincerely. “Okay, well, we can work it out. We’re still hours from Virginia, you can turn your brain off. We can work it out.” 

You’re relieved to have him promise it. This isn’t the sort of thing you can work out, but it doesn’t matter, Spencer caring this much makes all the difference. You take a deep, deep breath, and you give him a grateful smile, before you rest your cheek on his shoulder. That’s just wanting, no weird feeling or jittering at the root of you as he lets a warm breath kiss your forehead, his nose pressing into your skin. 

“Don’t let anybody see,” you mumble. 

His next breath is a little shaky. “I won’t.”

See what, you’re not sure. But soon you start to feel less like you’re gonna try popping open an emergency window, and that’s enough for now. 

[psychotrenny]

To all the Anarchists who don't read, could you please understand why people would like you to answer basic questions on the principals of how your planned future society functions. You don't have to produce a hundred pages of technical documents and 5 year plans, but at the bare minimum when people ask "Could you produce the things I/my loved ones need to not die badly?" you need a better answer than "Yeah man we'll work something out. I gotta buddy who's really into biochemistry I'm sure he'll cook something up". If you are unwilling or unable to provide said better answer, then it's only natural that people will be unsympathetic to your ideology and getting mad about it only makes things worse.

Like if you wanna pursue Anarchism as like some sort of Philosophy/Lifestyle/Mindset or whatever that's your business, it's not as though I can send you to a re-education camp* or anything. But doing that is not a very effective way to bring about actual change in the world, and you look fucking ridiculous when you act as though it is. You need to take your ideology serious if you want anyone else to

And to all those Anarchists who do read, do keep in mind that the largest and most vocal contingent of self-identified "Anarchists" are the various political illiterates and LARPers who therefore provide most people's primary point of reference for Anarchism. I'm sure it's very infuriating to see all the contemptuous mockery directed towards the the most weak and incoherent version of your ideology, but you have to understand this is mainly a reaction to what people actually experience rather than a deliberate attempt to strike at strawmen. Like if you're sick of seeing this then getting mad isn't gonna do anything either; your only real option is to improve your collective efforts at education and agitprop. And not only towards the "Statists" and undecided, but towards your supposed Anarchist comrades as well. It's worth preaching to the choir when none of them show up to church

[sturnsdarling]

teenage dirtbags, part three

Skater!matt and overachiever!reader study in the library

vibe check: enemies to lovers au, a lingering look from reader? matt being goofy, bickering, just all the shit we love guys come on

1.6k words

A/N: this is like a filler part before the actual fun bit where they aren't just studying and bickering. ugh i'm sorry its taken me so long to get out a part three i'm so busy with uni. send me ideas for what you wanna see from them because your girl is braindead. also you know i had to make matt a feminist skater boy...being able to yap about philosophy in my fics gives me a little too much joy. anywaysssss i hope you love this

intro, part one, part two

love and cigs, merc

You had told Matt to meet you in the library, not wanting to be in a confined space with him like your room like you had been the last few times you'd studied, being around him was painful enough, you didn't need it to be a private one on one situation every single time.

You were sat, one leg up on the creaky wooden chair with your head tucked in your current read, absent-mindedly twirling a small strand of hair by your ear into a ringlet around your finger. The library is near enough silent, the only sounds being that of a whirling printer and a few whispers from people doing joint projects a few tables over.

The serenity of the building was quickly interrupted by an obnoxious slam of the giant stain glass doors, one hitting the door frame after the other. Everyone in the room turned to look at the noise with a scowl, and the loud crash was followed by a small 'sorry'. You were torn from your book, only to be met with the apologetic frame of Matt, shuffling through the tables, his board in hand and an apologetic look, that was hiding a boyish grin, spread on his face.

you couldn't help but roll your eyes as he sauntered over to you, not a care in the world as he loudly placed all his belongings on the old, shiny oak table you were sat at.

"wussup, y/l/n" Matt said, shocked that you were already here, "am I late?" he said.

you looked at the gold, vintage watch on your wrist with a deadpan face, "only three minutes" you said, looking back to him, "lets get started" you pulled your notes for him out your bag, spreading everything out on the table.

"Jesus, not a minute to waste, huh?" Matt chuckled, sitting down opposite you and getting his notebook out, followed by all the readings you had assigned him.

"I'd like to cut the amount of time I have to be seen with you in public down to a minimum so, yeah" you said, shooting him a sarcastic smile that he returned.

Matt laid out his books on the table, all five of them riddled with little sticky notes and tabs, seeming to be very throughly annotated and read. You scanned his collection, you only assigned him three, albeit they were the heaviest with the dark green tabs you had given him, but not only had he actually done what you'd asked, he did more.

A small smile attempted to form on your lips but you quickly reminded yourself of your distaste and forced your face muscles into compliance.

"I, um, I liked this one a lot, she seems like she knows what she's talkin' about" Matt said, picking up Simone De Beauvoir's little red book and scanning it quickly.

"Beauvoir was one of the first modern philosophers I read, she's pretty cool" You nodded, focused on the hundreds of tabs in the pages, "you annotated these really thoroughly" you picked up his copy on Fanon, fanning through the pages and creating a little wind tunnel in front of your face.

"you asked me to" Matt said non-chalantly, shrugging.

You caught his eye line and let a downwards smile form on your face, raising your brows quickly before tearing your eyes from his.

You and Matt got right to it, going over everything he had written previously and cross referencing it with all the new content he had consumed. His approach was near enough perfect now it just needed its 'meat and potatoes', as Matt would say, and he was good to go.

It was nice, being able to talk to someone about philosophy in a way that wasn't just them trying to prove that they knew more than you, helping Matt study was easy and, despite the company, a nice break from the dick slinging competition your degree often felt like.

"I think I want to make Beauvoir more central to my point" Matt said, "I feel like this whole concept of 'the Other' can be applied to further corners of society and... I kinda wanna try" His final words came out more nervous than the rest, as if he lost faith in himself half way through.

"okay" You nodded, pulling out your own copy of Beauvoir and flitting through the pages, "you can definitely do that" you nodded with a shrug, not looking at the way his face lit up in response to your confidence in him.

You and Matt spent the next few hours reading basically every bit of text the library had on Beauvoir, silently flicking through everything she'd ever written, trying to find the perfect point. Matt was man spreading on his chair, back low against the seat as his leg bounced at a rapid pace against the old, dusty blue carpet, his fingers effortlessly twirling a highlighter in circles as he lost himself in the tattered book in his hand.

You were cross legged across from him, head hung low on its hinge as you chewed on the end of your pen, scanning through applications of Beauvoir, trying to find something that hadn't been said, and hoping Matt was smart enough to say it.

You knew he was, he wasn't an idiot, he just never tried. It was infuriating, how despite his complete lack of effort, he was still always on the podium with you, taunting you with his effortless wit and intelligence.

"can you stop shaking your leg" You said, growing more irritated by his movements by the second

Matt looked up from his book, "it helps me focus" he said, still shaking his leg.

"its annoying" you said, huffing and placing your feet on the floor

"more annoying than your little incoherent mumbles?" Matt said, cocking his head to the side

you slammed the book shut in your lap, "what are you talking about?" you screwed your face up at him

Matt chuckled and shifted in his chair, "so maybe if we, actually no, oh actually what about, hmm, no that won't work" Matt mumbled, mimicking you down to the pen in his mouth. Once he had finished his performance, he looked back to you with a smug smile

"I don't do that" you scoffed, looking him up and down

"yeah, you do" Matt nodded

"no, I don't" you pushed, tone growing more annoyed by the second.

"yes, you do" an unfamiliar voice sounded from beside you, a stranger, joining Matts side

You immediately turned your head to shoot him a dirty look, returning your attentions to Matt, his lips tight in a smile as he lazily pointed at the stranger as if to say 'told ya'

you rolled your eyes with a deep sigh, pulling your legs back up under you as you opened you book in a strop. Matt smirked, biting down on the end of his pen with a small shake of his head.

"nothing to say, y/l/n?" Matt taunted

"just read your book, Matt" you snapped, looking him up and down once more.

Matts eyes widened slightly as his smug smile grew on his face,

"yes ma'am" he said, sarcastically as he returned to his book, no longer shaking his leg.

You both returned to silence, losing track of time in your selected readings. Matts legs were crossed over one another on the table, creating a small bridge between the surface and his chair. He had taken his beanie off, exposing his fluffy brown hair that fell in a perfect yet messy middle part. A toothpick hung from his lips as he once again twirled a pen round his fingers, unable to just simply read without doing at least something. You were tucked up in a ball on your chair, back against where your ass should go and legs hung over the arm rest slightly as you held yet another text above your face, mumbling to yourself.

You caught yourself mid mumble, and it tore your attentions from your reading. You shifted in your seat, looking over to Matt, who was perfectly illuminated by the green table light, his bright blue eyes flitting over the lines on the page. You let your gaze linger on his mouth for a moment, watching how he let the toothpick dance over his teeth, guiding it with his tongue.

As if he could feel you looking at him, he locked eyes with you, his head and body unmoving. You quickly looked away and soon noticed that everyone in the library had begun to filter out one by one, leaving you the only people in there other than the librarian.

"we should go" you cleared your throat, sitting up completely.

Matt looked around, seeing all the lights other than yours turned off and hearing the jingle of keys from the librarian getting ready to lock up.

"why?" Matt said

"because the library is closing?" you said, explaining it to him in the tone you would a five year old.

Matt deadpanned at your condescending tone, tilting his head slightly, "I know that, dickhead, what I mean is, lets stay"

"but the library is closing..." you said, cocking your eyes to the side.

Matt let out a short chuckle and shook his head, collecting all his things messily and getting up, "come on" He said, ducking into the darkness of the towering stacks of books.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour @sofieeeeex @ncm9696 @lovesturni0l0s @pepsicola-pussy @ifwdominicfike @dani-sturn @stupendousjellyfishpost @aesthetixhoe @sturn-rose @mattsnronebitch @chriscorqutte @elizasturn @ribread03 @st7rnioioss @maggieflms

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝓉ℴ𝓇ℯ 𝒹𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓈

I wrote this while waiting for my fn queue, it took literally over an hour and I fell asleep, im so excited for the new season but omfg im so bored w/o it 😞 im getting Fortnite schizophrenia

thinkin bout rafe w a reader!gf, one smut joke that’s it

Masterlist

You sat behind him on his motorcycle as he sped up, your arms wrapped around him. He stopped, parking in a stop downtown and pulling his helmet off, shaking his head and fixing his hair. You took yours off, holding it.

He had a small smile as he looked at you already walking down, catching up with you. You were giddy all week when he told you he would take you to the Barnes and Nobles- even though it was far away.

“Slow down, slow down.” He said with a chuckle when he noticed you were walking fast down the sidewalk. You pouted and slowed down.

“Not my fault you walk so slow.”

He rolled his eyes at your antics, a small smile on his face. You gently pushed his chest as he feigned offense.

“How dare you?” He gasped dramatically.

“How dare you?” You mocked. You both laughed and soon you were met with the sign of the Barnes and Nobles, you practically running in, dragging Rafe.

Your helmet under your arms got hard to carry, he took it from you, both his hands full now.

“Thank you.” You told him quickly, giving him a kiss on the cheek and grabbing a basket. You scoured the sections for books, reading the backs, your face interested. But, Rafe noticed you were hesitating to buy some.

He took one from your hands making you smile, amused as he flipped through the pages.

“Baby, this might as well be pure smut.”

“It’s not all smut.” You argued, taking the book from his hands with a roll of your eyes.

“You seriously reading about this when we can do it?” He said, tone teasing.

“You’re gross.” You hit his chest, putting the book back.

And sometimes, you put back one and put in another. Soon, you said you were done but the basket wasn’t any where near full, and that wasn’t okay in his eyes.

“Why’d you put down the others?” He asked curiously.

“It’s expensive,” you shrugged. “I can’t waste all my money, I still have shit to pay off.”

“I’m paying for it.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“I’ll pay for it. This is a date, isn’t it? I should be the one paying.”

“But, Rafe-“ he always paid for you, despite your protests.

“Don’t worry about it. Buy anything you fuckin’ want, yeah? That’s what I’m here for.”

“Ugh, will you ever let me pay for something?”

“Nope.” He said with a smirk, you smiled back and went back over to the books you were originally looking at.

“Why don’t you get the uh… what’s it called?” He asked, picking up a hardcover.

“A hardcover costs more. I don’t wanna drain your pockets.”

“Have you seen my bank account? I am off perfectly fine. A little what, couple hundred bucks? Is not gonna drain my pockets.” He spoke, putting the hardcover in the basket for you before you could protest.

You rolled your eyes and began walking to the register when you were done, putting the books on as you greeted the cashier with a small smile.

“Find everything okay?”

You nodded, your eyes going to the screen as the amount went up.

“Rafe, that’s a lot-“ you mumbled, he shrugged.

“It’s fine, baby.” He said with a laugh, you looked up at him now and back down.

“Your total is… 246 dollars.” The cashier spoke.

“Jesus Christ, Rafe, are you-“

He swiped his card, and you had a small smile on your face.

“You didn’t have to.” You told him.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. I wish my hobby was this cheap.” He said with a laugh, giving you back your helmet so he could carry all the bags for you, flexing his biceps as he did so.

[vivwritesfics]

Amortentia

One particularly bad crash lands her in hospital, out for the count. Max, Lando and Charles visit her every single day. While she's out the reader lives several different lives. The one thing they all have in common? Her boys

Max Verstappen x Reader, Lando Norris x reader, Charles Leclerc x reader

The First Part The Third Part

Huge thanks to @amatswimming @landossainz and @honkyscats for all your guys help on this one! It wouldn't have been possible without you

Her car had gone into the barrier two weeks ago, and the boys hadn't left her side. She hadn't yet woken up, and Lando, Max and Charles were trying their best to be patient. But they missed her so damn much.

Lando dropped his bag by feet. It made an audible thud. "What the hell have you got there?" Asked Max as he sat back in the one seat available in the room. Charles was sat on the floor, visibly distressed.

"You remember she made us watch Harry Potter maybe a hundred times?" Lando asked as he unzipped his bag. He pulled out a book.

"You brought those all the way from Monaco?" Max asked as he took the the philosophers stone from Lando's hands.

He nodded his head. "Of course I did," he said, pulling out the rest of the box set. First editions. They had been incredibly expensive, but it was worth it.

Charles looked up, his eyes bloodshot.

"I was thinking we could try reading them to her. It might wake her up, or something," Lando continued.

Max looked across the room, looking straight into Charles' eyes. "You wanna read it, Charlie?" He asked, holding the book out towards him.

Charles nodded his head. He took the book from Max's hands and opened it to the first page. He looked at Y/N as her chest gently rose and fell, and began reading.

***

He was back, and he wanted Charles. The only place he was safe was Hogwarts, but even that wasn't a guarantee anymore.

Just the year before in the triwizard tournament Charles saw him return. He was the only one meant to be there in the graveyard, not Pierre. Pierre didn't have to die, and it was all his fault. He'd been killed, and his assailant didn't care.

Returning to Hogwarts for his fifth year, Charles was terrified. Professor Hamilton believed him though, and that was the most important thing. There were people, like his housemate Carlos, who didn't believe him, but Lando, Y/N and Max did, and that was the most important thing.

Max had been the only one of their quartet receiving copies of the Daily Prophet through the summer, he was the only one seeing what Bernie Ecclestone, the minister for magic, was saying. Awful, terrible things that Charles couldn't defend.

When he arrived at Hogwarts, Y/N was the first to throw her arms around him. She squeezed him and Charles wrapped his arms around her. This was the only comfort he allowed himself at this point. She was the only comfort he allowed himself at this point.

Max and Lando stood behind her, Max in his green tie and Lando in his yellow one. They offered him sympathetic smile as he looked up from her shoulder. "Come and have something to eat," she said quietly and pulled him into the great hall.

The whispers started as Charles walked between the tables, heading to his house table. Y/N went with him. She ignored her own house, left Lando to walk back to their table on his own, as she sat with Charles.

Nobody said anything to him at dinner, not unless they wanted to deal with the wrath of his Hufflepuff best friend. It was when he got to his common room, when Y/N wasn't there, that people started.

Carlos was the first to approach him. "My mother says you're lying," he said, cutting through the noise in the common room. All conversation stopped as they stared between the two.

"You listen to everything your mother says, do you?" Charles challenged, annoyance instantly bubbling up inside of him. He couldn't make Carlos believe, he knew. But Carlos didn't see the things he saw every time he shut his eyes.

***

Professor Danica Patrick was new to the staff, the new defence against the dark arts teacher. And she was the worst. She smiled at her fifth year class in a sickly sweet way, but it was patronising. "Ordinary Wizarding Levels. OWLS," she said as she pointed to her blackboard. "This is what my class will be all about. In here I will be preparing you for your OWLS."

Y/N frowned as she looked at Charles sat beside her. He too was frowning as he patted his wand in his pocket. "So, we're not learning how to defend ourselves?" Y/N called as she turned her attention to Professor Patrick.

Professor Patrick didn't let that smile drop from her face. In fact, she smiled wider, but it was only more patronising. "Miss L/N, what could you possibly need to defend yourself from?" She asked as she walked over to her desk.

It wasn't Y/N that answered her. No, Charles piped up. "Oh, I don't know, maybe Jos?" He suggested, but it wasn't in a friendly manner. No, Charles was clearly pissed.

Professor Patrick cleared her throat and sat on her desk. "Mr Leclerc, I can assure you that Jos has not returned." Y/N couldn't help but turn to Max, who's knuckles were white as he gripped his quill. "The minister has stated-"

"I don't care what the minister has said," Charles suddenly said. "How do you think Pierre Gasly died?" He challenged.

The smile finally dropped from Professor Patrick's face. But she quickly replaced it with one filled with sorrow. "Mr Gasly's death was a tragic accident," she said slowly.

This only further fuelled the rage in Charles. "It wasn't an accident!" He suddenly shouted as he stood up. "I was there with Jules in the graveyard. I watched him die." His voice cracked at the end and Y/N grabbed a hold of his arm, pulling him back into his seat.

"Detention."

"Fuck," Charles whispered under his breath.

After weeks and weeks of Professor Patricks useless lessons, Y/N knew he had to do something. "Jos is back," she said as she led Lando, Max and Charles into the Hufflepuff common room. "If professor Patrick isn't going to teach us to defend ourselves, we need to find somebody who will."

All eyes turned to Charles. He looked between his friends, eyes going wide as he held up his hands. "I can't," he said as he stepped back with his hands up.

"Yes you can, Charlie," Y/N insisted as she walked towards him. "I mean, who else? You're the only one of us who has faced any real danger before."

"Yeah," Max agreed as he stepped forward, stepping inline with Y/N. "We've all see what you can do in that Ferrari."

Suddenly Y/N turned to him. "What did you just say?" She asked him.

Max rolled his eyes. "C'mon Y/N. You were there! You must remember when he saved himself and Jules from the dementors."

Suddenly she was very short of breath. "That's not what you said," she said as she sat on the sofa in the Hufflepuff common room. "Why are you talking about Ferraris?"

Lando, Max and Charles ignored her. Or they couldn't hear her.

"What if we got together a group of students who want to learn from you? Would you teach then?" Lando asked as he sat beside Y/N, his arm on the sofa behind her.

"Nobody wants to learn from me," Charles said as he sat on the window ledge.

Y/N looked up at him, all thoughts of Ferraris leaving her mind. They were wizards and witches, not race car drivers. "I do," she said to him. "I bet half the people in the common room do."

Nobody else in the Hufflepuff common room agreed, but mainly because they weren't listening. But Lando stepped up. "I do too," he said as he sat up straighter. "And I know Max does."

Max grinned at his best friend. Of all of the people in Fifth year, Max wasn't one who needed Charles to teach him. He was brilliant in his own right, he just hadn't had a chance to prove it yet.

"Are you sure?" Charles asked as he looked directly at Max.

It was a tricky subject. The person that they wanted to defend themselves from was Max's father. But he didn't want anything to do with his 'blood traitor' son. Max wanted to fight him now. It had taken him a while to come around to it, hadn't wanted to believe his father was bad. But, after spending the last four years at Hogwarts, everything hit him all at once. His father was bad, dangerous, and Max wanted to be the one to stop him.

Max nodded is head and they began drawing up plans. Weeks later they were in Hogsmede, gathered in the forgotten Hogs Head pub. It was surprising the amount of students that showed up. Even Carlos Sainz was there, asking Charles about the night that Pierre died.

After a rousing speech that, upon reflection, was more frightening than encouraging, they had a plethora of students signing up. And then they just needed somewhere to practice their magic, somewhere Professor Patrick wouldn't find them.

It was Oscar Piastri, a young Ravenclaw that found them somewhere to practice. Daniel Ricciardo, Lando and Y/N's housemate, had been hunting him down, trying to get him to do his homework, so Oscar hid himself away in a room he had never seen before. That was because, most of the time, the door wasn't there.

"Brilliant, Osc," Y/N said when he showed the group. The door to the room of requirement opened and she led them in, Charles close behind her.

Every other day a large group of students met in the room of requirements. Under Charles's leadership they practiced spells, learnt how to defend themselves. Charles taught new spells, such as the Patronus charm, and allowed them to practice on each other.

There was one particularly brilliant moment where Lando and Max stood opposite each other, ready to practice the stunning spell, stupefy. Lando was filled with far too much confidence, and Max knocked him down a couple of pegs. Lando's sisters giggled as he got up and walked over. "I let him do that," he muttered as he straightened out his uniform.

Charles had a favourite student. Of course it was Y/N. A few of the other students noticed that he spent the most time with her, holding her wand in the right position as he had her practice the charm his body pressed against hers.

But, at the stares of the other students, they stepped apart and cleared their throats.

Before long Christmas was rolling around. Y/N knew how much Charles wanted to stay at Hogwarts. As he said his goodbyes to his other students, she hung back, looked at the pictures they had stuck up.

There was one of Pierre, smiling down at them. Next to him was Professor Hamilton's original group, Hamilton's army. They could see Professor Alonso in the picture, along with Professor Rosberg, Professor Vettel and Professor Button.

"What're you still doing here?" Charles asked as he approached her. He stood himself behind her and looked at the pictures over her shoulder. Pierre was a hero, Charles made sure everybody knew it.

Y/N turned to him. "I know you don't want to go home," she said, stood so close they were chest to chest.

A sad smile crossed Charles's face. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her flush against him. "None of this would have been possible without you," he said as he looked around the room of requirement. "You're wonderful."

"I know," she mused and laid her head against his shoulder. "I don't want to go home either," she said, her eyes shutting.

Charles gently rocked her from side to side. He kept her tucked against him and leaned down to kiss her head. But that wasn't enough for Y/N. She lifted her head from his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. She rose onto her tiptoes and pressed his lips to hers.

***

It took a matter of days for Charles to get to the Order of the Phoenix. It was his favourite of the Harry Potter books, the one he read with the most passion.

Lando and Max stayed and listened to him for most of it. But they sometimes went home, fed their cats and got on with things. He stayed with her through this though, under the promise that Max was going to read the next set of books to her.

"What house would you be in?" He asked the boys as they walked into the hospital room. The last book was open in his lap and he had taken a break from reading.

Lando shrugged his shoulders as he sat on her bed. "Y/N always says I'd be in Hufflepuff with her," he said as he patted her leg.

"Slytherin," Max answered and Charles and Lando gave him a look. "What? They don't have to be the bad guys! They just happen to be the bad guys."

"I'd be in Gryffindor," Charles said confidently. He began reading again, and Max and Lando were only happy to listen. Max was going to read the next set of books to her, they'd decided.

They listened until Charles finished the book. That was when they sent him home to finally have a shower. "Goodbye chérie," he said and kissed her head. "I'll be back soon."

Permanent Taglist: @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minkyungseokie @formulaal @darleneslane @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris

Taglist: @hollie911

[phfenomena]

❝in that lavender haze❞ || tom blyth x f!reader

| request- hear me out! lavender haze with tom 🤭

| A/N- done and done. im hearing you out and im listening so hard. i’ve been high probably like hundreds of times but still cannot properly word it sorry 💔

| WARNINGS- marijuana consumption (mega slay), kissing, eating, wine, tiktok, tooth rotting fluff,

(divider by @benkeibear)

the feeling of your lungs being filled with smoke made you giddy, everything with sharp edges turning soft and fuzzy. coughing lightly at the larger hit you’d taken you passed the blunt to your left, to tom.

your eyes fixed on the way his lips wrapped around it and the way he closed his eyes at the sensation. your hopeless crush on your mutual friend with rachel had been developing for months, seeing him at every gathering and meet up.

he was fairly nice and polite, the true english way. you just wished he’d converse with you, more than small talk. you’re laying on your back on the floor and studying the swirling patterns on the ceiling. out of your peripheral vision you see tom lay down next to you.

staring at the ceiling with you, you don’t ever say too much. and you don’t really read into my melancholia.

“you don’t have much to say, do you?” you question into the air hoping that tom would cling on. he hums and says “yeah, i don’t know what you like or what you don’t like so i jus’ say nothing.” you turn your head to face him- all caution thrown to the wind. you find it hard to care about your words in your state. “when i first met you i thought you hated me, you wouldn’t talk to me like how you talked to everyone else. thought i might’ve done something. sometimes i still think that.” you confess and it hangs lowly over both of you.

“i was honestly kind of scared of you. in my head you’re this cool actress who does slashers and everyone loves her. i didn’t wanna say the wrong thing.” you smile and place your hand on your chest. “you think i’m cool? i think you’re cooler, tom.”

his eyes crinkle when he laughs and you love it. you find it hard to decipher where the high ends and where how tom makes you feel starts, but they’re mixing. “i think you’re really cool. you do these cool like artistic horror movies and i’m kind of obsessed with your acting.”

i find it dizzying, they’re bringing up my history. but you aren’t even listening.

the group on the couch and chairs above you pass a bottle of wine and finish off the blunt. your friend laughs loudly and you turn to look at him. “do you remember that time last year when you dated the like entire cast of that one movie? what’s it called? i can’t remember. that was funny as shit.” you cringe and cover your face trying to forget.

tom lightly grazes your shoulder with his finger and whispers “are you hungry? i really want pizza right now.” you smile and nod. he wasn’t going to ask about your questionable past times. he pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to you. “i can’t function enough to order pizza, could you do it?” you happily nod and scroll your way through the menu before you both agree on toppings you both like.

i just wanna stay in that lavender haze. talk your talk and go viral, i just need this love spiral.

the pair had found themselves in a corner, talking and giggling over pizza whilst telling stories. “yeah! and she kept asking when i was going to settle down and get married. during an interview for a horror movie.” tom shakes his head and laughs. “i couldn’t get through one promo or interview without someone showing me at-least one edit of me. it was torture.” you pull your phone out and show him how edits of him had filled your timeline.

“you’re literally everywhere. i’m not complaining but sometimes i want to see something else!” he picks his phone up and shows your his own home page. “i’m sorry i ruined your tiktok, but this might make up for it.” his entire for you page was filled with edits of you and you co-stars from your latest movie.

you laugh and watch them “i had no idea people made edits of me, i feel honored. it’s like a right of passage.” he sets his phone down as well as his pizza. “they only the use the same ten clips of you covered in blood, i need more content.” you place you own pizza down and lean towards him.

“do you wanna know a secret i’m not supposed to tell anyone?” he nods and leans closer. “i’m gonna in the next scream movie and i’m one of the ghostface’s, you’re gonna see me murdering on the big screen.” he raises his eyebrows and you barley take into account how close your faces are.

“i love everything you’re in. when i first met you, i went home and watched everything you’ve done.” he confesses with a smile and red eyes. “i did the exact same thing, rachel told me i was creepy! we’re like each others biggest fans.”

get it off your chest, get it off my desk. that lavender haze, i just wanna stay.

you’re sitting in the bathtub of your bathroom passing a blunt back and forth between you and tom. “it’s so much quieter in here, i love them but they’re so loud.” you say leaning your head back on the tile. he softly chuckles and looks at you. “i can’t believe we could’ve been hanging out for months, i should’ve just talked to you.” you smile and set the blunt in the ashtray you brought with you.

“yeah but where’s the fun in that? this is probably the best night i’ve had in a while.” you turn to look at him and you study his features. you’ve never had a chance to really look at him, your glossy eyes try to memorize each slope and curve of his face.

“can i kiss you?” you whisper out before even realizing you’ve said it. he mutters a small ‘yes’ and you’re leaning in, like your body’s on autopilot. he tastes like weed and pizza, you couldn’t find a bone in your body that cared. you sluggishly manage to inch onto his lap. “you’re so pretty.” he whispers in between kisses. his hands find purchase on your waist, not letting you even dream of getting off of him.

you reluctantly pull back and his lips chase yours. “do you wanna hang out tomorrow?” you ask him with a smile. “i would be honored, maybe i’ll take you out on a real date.” his hands are rubbing small circles on your waist. “the press is gonna love that one.” you mutter out before leaning back into him.