#i will have to. i have to be brave about this it's hard but i have to do it

[icaruspendragon]

I dropped out of college at the end of my last semester because according to my therapist dalton i'm "hard-wired for self-destruction," because I have control issues. early on I somehow managed to convince myself that I couldn't be subject to the future's uncertainty if there is no future that requires relinquishing control or whatever.

anyway. it's four years later and I have two and a half years of therapy with a trauma specialist under my belt. and in two weeks time I'm being incredibly brave and going back to finish my degree.

I'm sure some of you may be wondering, "what's your degree in?"

english literature and professional writing.

and of course the people in my personal life are proud of me for going back. but a lot of them also think it's kinda funny, too.

and it's not like they think it's funny in a mean way or anything. they think it's a bit funny because in march of 2023 I wrote and released a silly little book. a poetry collection about love, grief, searching, sacrifice, absolution, and what lies in between.

the book is called lazarus rises (amongst other things) and was created because I watched season four episode one of hit cw show supernatural, "lazarus rising" a few too many times and then decided to get real weird with it.

the book itself isn't why some folks think me going back is funny. it's because my silly little book is a bestseller.

I'm a college-dropout-turned-bestselling-author-turned-college-student-once-more.

like this situation is literally a fanfic au in the making, right? and as a lover of both a silly au and tomfuckery, I've decided I'm not gonna mention it. as a lover of stories and literal bestselling author, I cannot in good faith do anything other than keep it a secret.

who am I to deny someone a "my life is a fanfic" moment?

I have no choice but to sit back and see what happens.

and boy am I excited to see what happens

[faithshouseofsmut]

Only you|| Lando Norris

Summary — you and Lando are best friends who have feelings for each other

Warnings smut p in v nipple play teasing

Word count 6934

Reposted form my old account which was deleted

You had been friends with Lando for as long as you could remember—back when the world was simpler, and the only thing that mattered was which video game you were going to play or which movie you’d queue up for a late-night marathon. You’d met at the race track a few years ago, and the connection had been instant—easy, comfortable like you’d known each other for years.

But lately, things have been changing. And neither of you was brave enough to address it.

"Hey, you alright?" Lando's voice broke through your thoughts as you fiddled with the edge of your drink, staring into the cup more than you should. He was leaning on the table, casual as ever, but the way his gaze lingered on you for just a fraction too long made your stomach flip.

You blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You sure? You’ve been kinda off tonight.”

“I’m just... not used to these late nights,” you shrugged, a half-lie, but it was easier than admitting what was going on—your thoughts had become a jumbled mess of *Lando this* and *Lando that*, and you were pretty sure that it wasn’t just a passing phase anymore.

Lando tilted his head, clearly considering pushing further, but he just gave a small nod. “Well, if you need me to kick anyone’s ass for you, just say the word.”

You laughed, trying to shake off the tension. “You’re such a dork, Norris.”

He grinned, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Like you were still the same two idiots who spent hours arguing about nothing and everything at the same time. But then, for a split second, you saw the way his eyes softened, and for the briefest of moments, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe... maybe he wasn’t joking about being there for you.

Lando felt a pang in his chest at your words—it was so obvious you were deflecting, but he couldn’t press any further without giving himself away. The truth was, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way his heart sped up whenever you were around, the way his skin tingled whenever your hand accidentally brushed against his.

But he couldn’t say anything. There was too much at stake—the friendship you’d built, the comfort and familiarity of it all. It was too good to lose over a silly, confusing crush.

He sipped his drink, trying to act casual, but he could feel the tension growing between you both—awkward, charged, like the air before a storm. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension, but every opening line he could think of sounded wrong in his head.

Instead, he just settled for watching the way your eyes darted around the room, never really focusing on anything for more than a second. You seemed... off, and the fact that you wouldn’t tell him why was eating him alive.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned a little closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Seriously, you’re sure you’re alright? You can tell me if something’s going on, you know. I mean, we’re friends, right?”

He didn’t miss the way you tensed up at his question, and it sent a pang of anxiety through him. Had he said something wrong? Was he pushing too hard?

You forced another smile, trying to maintain the facade. “Yeah, of course, we’re friends. Just like always,” you said.

Lando’s frown deepened. That wasn’t the response he was expecting. He had a feeling there was more going on than you were letting on, and the thought was driving him crazy.

He chewed on his lower lip, weighing his words. “Then why do I get the feeling that you're not telling me something? You've been acting weird for a while now—you're not as yourself.”

He waited, studying your reaction. There it was again—that flicker in your eye whenever he mentioned something to do with your behavior.

You swallowed hard, the guilt churning in your stomach. You wanted to tell him—you did. But the words lodged in your throat stuck somewhere between fear and uncertainty.

“It's...it's nothing, I promise,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone light.

But Lando wasn’t buying it. He knew you too well at this point—he could read the signs of a lie better than the track maps he studied religiously.

Sighing, Lando set his mug on the coffee table before gently taking yours out of your hand, setting it right next to yours, and holding your hands in his own.

Lando's touch was soft, his eyes fixed intently on yours. The heat from his hands soaked into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Please, just talk to me,” he said, his voice unusually serious. “I know something's not right—I can see it, okay? Do you think I haven't noticed that you've been acting weird around me? And you won't even tell me why.”

You could hear the worry in his voice, see it in the lines of his face. Dammit, you had made Lando Norris worry. Guilt clawed at your chest—you hated that you were the one to cause that look in his eyes.

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight. You wanted to pour out all your feelings right then—about how every touch lately made your skin blaze and how you stayed up at night listening to old voice notes he sent you.

But instead, you just sighed, your shoulders slumping in defeat. “It’s just...it’s complicated, okay?”

Lando tilted his head, a silent encouragement to continue. He was listening now, really listening, his gaze never leaving yours. “Did someone hurt you? Because if they did tell me I’ll take care of it.” Lando says slightly panicked he couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt in some way the whole thought made his stomach upset.

Your heart clenched at his words—he was always so protective, so quick to defend you from any possible harm. The thought of him going to bat for you was both endearing and a little heart-breaking.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that, I promise,” you reassured him quickly. This wasn’t what you had been worried about, but somehow, your lie only made you feel worse.

“Then darlin tell me what’s bugging you” he pleaded. There was that nickname again. The one that made your heart skip a beat and your palms start to sweat. You bit your lip, hesitating, wondering if you were ready to bear your soul to him like this.

“It’s…it’s stupid, really,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Lando leaned in closer, a crease forming on his forehead. “Hey, look at me,” he said, gently tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “If it’s bothering you like this, it’s not stupid.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his touch, the soft pressure of his fingertips on your skin. Lando was closer now—so close that you could see the flecks of gold in his normally blue eyes. Somehow, despite everything, your feelings for him had only grown, intensified…and there was no burying it anymore.

“It's...it's you,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, your heart racing. It was like once you started, the words just kept coming.

"Every time I'm around you, I just...I feel different. Like, I get all fluttery and nervous, and my brain turns to pudding. And I can't stop thinking about you, and...”

You paused, your words catching in your throat. You hadn't meant to dump it all out like that, but once you started, you couldn’t stop.

Lando's eyes widened as you spoke, disbelief and surprise warring on his face. He’d known something was up, but he hadn’t expected this—to hear that you were going through the same things he was.

For a moment, he just sat there, dumbfounded, his grip on your chin still loose but his touch still there. Then, softly, almost reverently, he breathed a single word. “Me?”

You almost laughed—it was so typical for Lando. Even when you were pouring your heart out, the idiot still found some way to be charming.

“Yes, you,” you said flatly, rolling your eyes in a vain attempt to hide your nerves. “Who the hell else would I be talking about?”

Lando chuckled, a soft rumble in his chest, and somehow, you could feel the tension slowly seeping out of the situation.

“I just…I can’t believe it,” he confessed. “I’ve been going crazy over the same thing for months now, I didn’t think you’d…

He trailed off, looking at you with a mix of disbelief and something bordering on awe. You stared at him, your mouth open in surprise. Had he just confessed what you thought he had?

“Wait, back up. You…” You pointed a shaky finger at him, your words coming out in a jumble, “You’ve had a crush on me for months?”

Lando looked sheepish, like a kid caught sneaking cookies. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish little smile on his face. “Yeah,” he almost winced at the admission, like he expected you to start laughing any moment. “I know, it’s stupid, but I couldn’t help it. Every time we hung out or talked, or even just…it was like I’d just lose my mind.”

He huffed a dry laugh, looking down at his hands, “I never thought…I never thought you felt the same.”

Your heart felt like it could burst out of your chest at his words. Lando Norris, the flirty, carefree prince of Formula 1, had a crush on *you*, a normal, average girl. It didn’t seem real.

“God, we’re both idiots,” you breathed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Lando looked up at you, eyebrows raised, a mixture of amusement and relief on his face. “Why’s that?” he asked, a hint of a smile on the edge of his lips.

You huffed, shaking your head. “Because neither of us had the balls to say anything until now.” Lando barked a laugh, leaning back against the couch. “That’s a fair point.”

He glanced sidelong at you, some of the easy confidence returning to his usual swagger. “Although I have to say, I’m still a little surprised you never noticed.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “How was I supposed to notice? You’re a big flirt. How was I supposed to know I wasn’t just another one on your list?”

“I could never let you be just another girl on my list,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as he gazes deeply into your eyes. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and an electric tension envelops the space between you. You can feel your heart racing, each pulse resonating with the intensity of the moment. Lando’s expression is earnest, revealing a vulnerability that makes your breath catch in your throat. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, locked in this intimate moment, where all your past encounters seem to dissolve, and only the possibility of something deeper remains.

Your heartbeat hammers in your chest, a cacophony of emotion swirling inside. Lando's confession is more than your racing mind can handle. You hadn't expected to hear those words from him.

You opened your mouth, trying to find the right response, an appropriate reaction to the raw honesty in his eyes. Yet, no words come out. All you can do is sit there, caught between wanting to believe his words and a lingering uncertainty. His eyes are unwavering, fixed on yours, waiting.

Lando looks at you, his gaze unwavering. He can see the storm of emotions playing over your face, the way your mind is racing to make sense of all this. But he isn’t deterred. For him, this isn’t just another flirty banter, another attempt to charm someone into a night of fun. This is real—the realest he’s ever felt about anything in his life.

He reaches out, his fingertips just barely brushing your cheek. The touch is light, and gentle, as if he’s afraid of scaring you away with too much pressure.

The soft touch of his fingertips against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, a stark contrast to the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind. And yet, despite the confusion and surprise, you find yourself leaning into his touch, almost unconsciously.

“I mean it,” Lando says softly as if reading the unspoken doubt in your silence. His eyes are earnest and intense. “I don’t just… I don’t just ‘flirt’ with everyone. You’re… you’re different.”

Your heart clenches at his words, his quiet honesty. Part of you wants to believe him, to take a leap of faith and trust that this isn’t just empty words. But the other part, the part ruled by doubt and fear, keeps you rooted in place.

“How am I different?” you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze. Lando takes a moment to think before answering, his fingers still tracing light circles on your cheek. His touch is soothing, and grounding—a small patch of calm in the whirlpool of emotions.

“You’re different because you’re *you*,” he finally replies, his voice firm, certain. “You’re not just another girl I flirt with. You’ve been my friend forever. You know me better than anyone. And yet, somehow, you still like me. For me, not just for the thrill of it all.”

The words hit you like a wrecking ball, knocking the air right out of your lungs. He was right. You had been more than willing to accept Lando for all his flaws, his quirks, his vices—everything that made him who he was. And somehow, miraculously, he was offering you the same in return.

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” you whisper, your voice wavering, betraying the lingering threads of doubt. Lando's expression softens, his touch becoming more gentle, more reassuring. “I can’t promise we’re going to be perfect, darling,” he admits quietly. “There’ll be rough spots, I know that. But I can promise I’ll be there for you, through all of it.”

He takes a breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “I can promise I’ll try, with everything I’ve got. To make you happy, to keep you safe, to be good for you.” You look up at Lando, your heart in your throat. Everything in you wants to believe in his words, in the sincerity behind his eyes. But the fear of the unknown, the uncertainty of what the future holds, still whispers doubts in your ear.

“I want to believe you, Lando. I do,” you confess, your voice barely audible. “But I’m scared. I’m scared of getting hurt, of losing what we already have.”

“I know,” Lando nods, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I get it. I’m scared too.”

He takes a moment, swallowing hard. “But I’m also tired. I’m tired of pretending. Tired of dancing around what both of us have been feeling for months now.”

His hand cups your face then, his touch becoming firmer, more certain. “I’m tired of not having you as more than a friend. And I think...I think you are, too.”

Your eyes flutter shut at his touch, your breath catching in your throat. You hate that he’s right, hate the way his words resonate deep within you. You had been longing for this for months—years if you were being honest with yourself.

You open your eyes again, meeting his gaze. The fear is still there, the doubts still niggling at the edge of your mind, but now...now they’re overpowered by something else. Hope.

“Lando?”

Lando lets out a quiet hum, keeping his gaze fixed on you. He looks as if he’s almost holding his breath, waiting for you to speak.

“Yeah?” he replies, his voice soft, almost tentative.

“Kiss me please?” you ask your voice barely above a whisper. Lando’s eyes widened a fraction, the shock on his face quickly giving way to a look of breathless awe. He looks at you like he can’t quite believe what you’ve just said.

But then, his lips pull into a smile—a bright, brilliant, beautiful smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he breathes out, and then his hand moves from your cheek to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in towards him. The moment your lips meet his, it's like the world disappears. All the noise, the worries, the doubts, they all melt away, leaving nothing but the sensation of Lando's lips on yours.

His mouth is warm, gentle at first, and then with growing confidence as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer to him. His touch is electrifying, sending shockwaves through your body as his hands pull you onto his lap.

You reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, and tasting the sweetness of his lips. You’ve been craving this for so long—years of yearning compressed into this single moment of release. His hands move under your shirt, skimming over the bare skin of your back, making you shiver against his touch.

The kiss seems to go on forever—a sweet, slow, burning kind of kiss that makes the outside world fade completely. There’s only Lando, only the heat of his body against yours, the pounding of your heart, the way his tongue teases yours, sending sparks straight to your veins.

Finally, you break apart, both of you gasping for air, your foreheads pressed together as you cling to each other. Lando’s eyes are dark, pupils dilated with something primal, something possessive. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispers, breathless, his hand still tracing patterns across your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“I think I might have some idea,” you reply, your breathing still ragged. “You’ve made it pretty damn obvious, you know.”

You can see the hint of a cocky grin on Lando’s face as he ducks his head, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Can you blame me?” he mumbles against your skin, his lips trailing down to your collarbone. “You’re pretty damn irresistible.”

The feel of his teeth, the scrape of his stubble against your skin…it’s driving you insane. Every nerve in your body is on fire, every sense keyed into his touch, his breath, his voice. “I feel like I’ve been going crazy,” Lando murmurs as he nips at your earlobe. “Months of trying to keep my hands off you, trying to pretend I didn’t want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I thought I was going to lose my goddamn mind.”

“Imagine what it’s been like for me,” you reply, your voice hitching as he finds a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear. “Watching you smile and flirt with everyone but me. Listening to you talk about your dates…it was torture.”

Lando pulls back at that, his expression turning apologetic. “God, I’m sorry, darling. But you weren’t exactly making it easy for me either, you know. Looking all cute and pretty and…yeah,” he finishes lamely, his face reddening.

You can’t help but smirk at that. “Not my fault you can’t handle a little temptation,” you tease, poking his chest lightly. Lando huffs, his competitiveness flaring as he nips at your finger. “Oh, I can handle temptation just fine,” he retorts with a hint of a growl. “I’ve been handling it for months, thank you very much.”

He pulls you back onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you, possessive, and suddenly his mouth is on your neck again, his teeth scraping over your pulse point, making you gasp

“You were handling it, were you?” you tease between gasps, arching against him as his tongue trails down the column of your throat. “Doesn’t seem like you were handling it very well…”

His hands slide under your shirt, his touch roaming over your back, your waist, his thumbs dipping under the edge of your bra.

“Trust me, love,” Lando says in a low voice, his hands mapping out every inch of your skin, “You have no idea what kind of self-control I’ve had to exercise. There were times I wanted to pin you against a wall and just…”

His words trail off, but the way his hands grip your hips, the way he tugs you flush against him, make it pretty clear what he wanted to do. “What stopped you, then?” you ask, biting back a moan as his lips find your collarbone, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin. “You seemed to have no problem going after every other girl you wanted…

Lando lets out a soft huff, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. “Because it was never just a one-night thing, darling,” he mutters, almost too quiet to hear. “None of them…they weren’t you.”

His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and when he looks at you, there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that’s almost staggering.

Your heart clenches at his words, the raw honesty in his eyes robbing you of speech. You’d expected flirty charm and cocky banter, but this…this was something else altogether. Lando Norris, the heartthrob of Formula 1, the man who could have any girl he wanted, was admitting to you, just you, that he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you

“Lando I need you so bad,” you say hoping for something to happen between you. Lando’s breath hitches at your words, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he’s barely holding himself back. “Yeah?” he breathes out, his voice shaky, laced with desire. “How bad, darling?”

“Bad enough that I don’t think I can take it anymore,” you confess, your voice quivering. Everything in you is on fire, every nerve endings craving his touch, his lips, his body. You want him, desperately, urgently, and you can see in his eyes that he wants you just as badly.

Lando curses under his breath, his hands gripping your hips as he holds you against him. You feel the hardness of his arousal against you, and the knowledge nearly makes you dizzy. Lando leans forward, his lips finding your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you, darling,” he murmurs, his voice rough, gravelly with need. “Show me,” you breathe out, your voice hoarse, filled with aching need. “I want to see. I want to know.”

Lando lets out a low moan, his fingers digging into your hips as he turns you so you’re laying on your back on the couch, with him hovering over you, his weight pressing you into the cushion.

His lips are back on your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as his hands slide under your shirt, pushing the fabric up and off, revealing your bare stomach. His mouth follows the path of his hands, leaving a trail of scorching kisses down to the edge of your bra.

Lando looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a silent question in his gaze. You nod, breathless, your body yearning for his touch. Lando hooks a finger under the elastic of your bra, the touch of his knuckles against your skin making you shudder. He tugs the bra off, tossing it onto the floor, and then leans forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

His hands roam over your bare chest, fingers dancing over your sensitive skin, igniting a thousand little fires everywhere he touches.

Lando moves his kisses from your lips down to your chest, his mouth trailing down to the valley between your breasts. You arch against him, your body craving more, needing more of his touch, more of him.

“God, you’re stunning,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice wavering, filled with awe. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long, darling…so damn long…”

“I’m right here,” you gasp out, arching your back as his lips close around one nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. “It’s not just you who’s been going crazy, you know…I’ve wanted this too, god, so many times I thought I was going to go crazy…”

Lando chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending another wave of heat through you. “Good to know I haven’t been the only one going mad,” he murmurs, his mouth trailing down your stomach, his hands roaming over your sides. “I couldn’t focus in a race for weeks just thinking about you like this, darling, about how you’d look, how you’d feel…how you’d taste…”

He kisses the inside of your hip, his facial hair scraping against your skin, and then his thumbs are hooking under the waistband of your sweatpants, beginning to pull them down. You lift your hips to help him tug them off, your heart hammering against your ribs in anticipation.

Lando looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every inch of bare skin. He curses under his breath, his pupils dilated with desire. “God, look at you,” he mutters, running a trembling hand down your side. “You’re so perfect…so goddamn perfect…”

He moves between your legs, his hands gripping your hips, his touch firm but gentle. “All these months, I’d fantasize about this, about you, laid out like this just for me,” he mumbles, leaning down to press kisses along your inner thighs. “I never thought I’d get to see it for real…”

“I never thought I’d let you see,” you reply breathlessly, your hands tangling in his hair. “But I’m all yours now, Lando. All yours. Show me what you’ve been thinking about…”

Lando groans at your words, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip as he positions himself between your legs. His lips are back on your skin, kissing and sucking and nipping, slowly moving up your thigh until you can feel his breath against your aching core.

“You’re sure?” he asks in a gravelly voice, his eyes meeting yours.

You nod, words failing you. Desire is coursing through your veins like a drug, making you dizzy and needy and aching for more. “Please, Lando,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please, I need you…don’t make me wait anymore….”

Lando lets out another low moan, his breath hot against your skin. “God, I love it when you beg,” he mutters, his voice rough with desire. “I’m gonna give you everything you need, darling…everything you want…

His mouth finally finds your core, and it’s almost enough to make you scream. His tongue is doing glorious things, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from bucking against him, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

“L-Lando,” you gasp out brokenly, your hands twisting in his hair, holding on for dear life.

Lando hums against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. His grip on your hips tightens as his tongue continues its wicked dance, bringing you closer and closer to the edge

“God, you taste even better than I imagined,” he mutters, his words muffled against your skin. “I want to hear you, darling…want to know I’m making you feel good….”

You can’t help but obey, his words and his touch driving you to the brink of madness. A steady stream of moans and gasps falls from your lips, and Lando groans in response like he’s enjoying your pleasure just as much as you are.

Just when you think you can’t take any more, Lando’s mouth moves away from your core, leaving you feeling bereft, aching with unfulfilled need.

“Why’d you stop?” you gasp out, looking down at him with hazy eyes. Lando grins at you, his lips glistening with your desire.

“Because I’m not done with you yet, darling,” he murmurs as he moves back up your body, his body settling on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch. “You’re cruel, you know,” you murmur, a shiver running through you as you feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against you. “Leaving me like that…all needy and aching for you.

“You’ll just have to suffer a little while longer,” Lando replies, his voice dripping with feigned innocence, his lips curving into a smirk. He nips at your shoulder, then brushes his lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Just think about how good it’ll feel when I finally give you what you want, love…how good I’m going to make you feel…”

You whine in frustration, arching against him, your body desperate for release. Lando laughs against your skin, his hands roaming over your body, igniting a thousand little fires everywhere he touches.

“Look at you, all needy for me,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly with desire. “God, I love seeing you like this…all desperate and begging…I could get addicted to it, you know.”

You’re helpless against him, your body putty in his skillful hands. Every touch, every press of his lips is sending electricity through your veins, lighting up your nerves. You’re so close to the edge, clinging to it desperately as Lando continues to drive you wild.

“Please, Lando, please,” you plead, your voice breathless, desperate. “I need you…I need you so much…I need…I need…”

“What do you need, love?” Lando murmurs, his fingers tracing a path up your inner thigh, dancing ever closer to where you need him most. “You’ll have to use your words, darling…I want to hear you say it…”

You let out a strangled moan, your body quivering with tension. “I need…I need you to touch me,” you finally manage to gasp out, your voice thick with need. “Please, Lando…make me feel good…I can’t take anymore…I can’t…”

Lando lets out a low growl at your words, his hand finally moving to where you need him most. His fingers dip between your folds, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and stroking it lightly, making you shudder in ecstasy.

“You’re so damn wet, love,” he mutters, his voice rough with desire. “So goddamn responsive for me ... .I've just been touching you for a few minutes and you’re already falling apart in my arms “Feels…feels so good,” you gasp out, your body arching against his touch. Your senses are completely overwhelmed, your whole world narrowed down to the feeling of Lando’s fingers, the sound of his voice, the feel of his weight on top of you. Everything else is distant, hazy, and insignificant compared to him.

“That’s it, darling,” Lando murmurs, his fingers moving more quickly, his touch firmer. “Let go…I’ve got you…I’m right here…I’m gonna take care of you.”

His other hand is cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his eyes fixed on yours, dark, possessive, intense.

“I need to feel you,” you gasp out between moans, your body clenching tight around his fingers. “Please, Lando…I want you…I need you….”

Lando’s breath hitches at your words, his eyes darkening even further. “God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice shaking. “You’re goddamn perfect, you know that? Perfect and mine. All mine…”

“More,” you murmur, your body pleading for release. “Please, Lando, more…I need more….”

Lando’s thumb is circling over your clit, his fingers moving deeper, faster, driving you to the brink of insanity. “Is this enough, darling?” he asks, his voice rough but his touch still gentle. “Or do you need even more? Tell me what you want, love…I’ll give you whatever you need.

“You.” The word comes out barely coherent, but you manage to force it out in a gasp. “I want you. I need you. All of you. I can’t take this anymore, Lando. I can’t…please…please…please….”

Lando’s eyes widen at your words, a guttural moan escaping his lips. “Christ, darlin’,” he mutters, his voice tight with control, “you keep talking like that, and that’ll be over before it even starts.”

“Then don’t make me wait anymore,” you beg, your body trembling with need. “Please, Lando, I don’t think I can take it…I need to feel you…I need you now…”

Lando’s fingers continue their torturous rhythm, his other hand holding your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. You can see the struggle for control in his eyes, the tension in his body, the barely contained desire. He’s just as desperate as you are, just as needy

“Are you sure, darlin?” he asks, his voice strained with self-control. “Once I give you what you want, I won’t be able to stop. I won’t be able to hold back anymore…I’ll take you right here and now, just like you want…are you sure you’re ready for that…?”

You’ve never been more certain of anything in your life. You nod, the word tumbling out of you, pleading, desperate. “Yes. Yes. God, Lando…yes, I’m ready. More than ready. I want you, all of you. Now. Please…”

A guttural moan escapes Lando’s lips at your words, the sound raw and primal. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, darlin,” he mutters, his hands moving to your hips, gripping them as he positions himself between your legs. “But…goddammit…I’m not going to fight it anymore…”

He leans down, his lips claiming yours in a fierce, possessive kiss, his body pressed fully against yours. You can feel his need, his desire, his desperation mirrored in every movement, in every slide of his tongue against yours. His hands shift to your thighs, spreading your legs wider, aligning your bodies perfectly

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he mutters between kisses, his voice rough, hoarse with lust. “So goddamn perfect…all laid out for me…all mine.

His hips press against yours, the heat, the hardness of his arousal making you gasp against his lips. “I need you, darlin,” he mutters, his hands skimming up your sides, his touch sending sparks of heat through you. “I need you so damn much it hurts…I can’t hold back anymore…I can’t…”

“Then don’t,” you whisper, your body arching against his, pleading for him. “Please, Lando…don’t hold back anymore…I’m all yours…please…”

Lando lets out another guttural moan, his control finally snapping. “God, darlin, the things you do to me…goddamn…”

He shifts his weight, positioning himself at your entrance, the tension in his body like a coiled spring. “You sure about this, love? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you murmur, your body aching with need, your heart filled with a certainty you’ve never felt before. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, Lando. I want you, goddammit, I need you…I’m yours…please…please…please….”

Your words are like a match to a fuse, igniting the last shred of his control. Lando lets out a guttural moan, his hands gripping your hips, his body tense, trembling with the effort of restraining himself. He takes a shaky breath, his blue eyes meeting yours, dilated with desire.

“You’re mine, darlin,” he repeats, his voice a hoarse whisper. “All mine.”

And with that, he finally surrenders to his need, his control shattered. His body sheathes itself within you, filling you, stretching you, claiming you in a way that’s primal and possessive and perfect. A moan tears from your throat, your body arching against his, sparks of pleasure dancing through you, igniting every nerve.

Lando lets out a guttural groan, his body shuddering against yours. “God, you feel so good,” he gasps out, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “So damn perfect…you’re going to be the death of me, darlin

Your world narrows down to the sensation of him within you, his body moving against yours, the feel of his hands, his mouth, his body on and around you. Your whole world is Lando: his breath against your skin, the taste of his neck, the feel of his body moving against yours.

“God, yes,” you gasp out between moans, your body meeting his every thrust, your hands tracing over his back, feeling the shifting muscles beneath your palms. “Lando…Lando…God, you feel so good…so perfect…

"Oh, lord have mercy-" you gasped your eyes rolling at the back of your head.

"Oh, he had plenty when he made you. My. fucking. Friend." Lando says between thrusts.

Lando’s words are like fuel to the fire, igniting a heat within you that’s almost primal, almost feral. You cling to him, your body quivering, your nails digging into his skin. He lets out another guttural moan, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, his restraint paper-thin.

"I don’t think I’m going to last much longer, darlin," he gasps out, his voice rough, strained. "You feel too good…too perfect…”

"Just let go, Lando," you breathe out, your voice hoarse, a plea, a command, a plea. "I want you to. Come for me…show me how good I make you feel…"

Lando’s body shudders at your words, his control finally, blissfully breaking. “Goddammit, darlin, you have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice a hoarse growl. “You drive me wild, love…god damn…I can’t…I can’t…”

He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes locked on yours, his body trembling, taut, quivering with tension. “Are you close, darlin?” he gasps out, his voice tight, strangled.

You nod, your body clenching around him, your hands clinging to his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “I…I’m so close, Lando,” you manage to gasp out, your eyes meeting his, filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

Lando’s eyes darken at your words, a possessive, primal spark igniting in his gaze. “That’s it, darlin,” he murmurs, his body moving faster, harder, deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin. “Let go for me. Let go for me…I want to feel you…I want to feel you come undone in my arms…”

You’re helpless to resist his pleas, your body quivering, ready to burst. His voice, his touch, his body, it’s all too much, too intense. You’re teetering on the edge, so close to the precipice, hanging on by a mere thread.

“L-Lando…” you manage to moan out, your voice shaky, breathless. “I’m…I’m…I’m…”

Lando’s body trembles with the effort of holding back, his restraint hanging on by a thread. “That’s it, darlin,” he gasps out, his voice ragged, tight. “Let go. Let go, darling. I’ve got you…I’ve got you”

The tension finally snaps, your body seizing up, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you like a wall of fire. You cry out, your nails digging into Lando’s back, your body shuddering with the force of your release.

Lando lets out a guttural moan at the feeling, his body tensing, his hips stuttering, his control finally, blissfully broken. “Goddammit, darlin,” he mutters, his voice a hoarse gasp. “That’s it…that’s it…I’m right there with you, darlin,” he gasps out, his body shuddering against yours, his release crashing over him like a tsunami. “Goddamn…you’ve got me completely wrecked, love…I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to recover.”

You cling to him, both of you trembling in the aftermath, holding onto each other for dear life. The room is filled with the sounds of your panting breaths, the thump of your heartbeats, the rustle of the sheets beneath you.

Lando’s arms wrap around you, his body pressing against yours, holding you tightly to him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He’s still shaking, still quivering with the aftershocks of the pleasure you’ve just experienced together.

"Goddamn, darlin," he mutters, his voice low, rough. "You wreck me. Every time. You completely wreck me."

You let out a soft, contented sigh, your body relaxing into his embrace. “That was…that was intense,” you murmur, your fingers tracing lazy circles over his back. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Lando lets out a soft, hoarse chuckle at your words, the sound vibrating against your skin. “That’s what I was aiming for, darlin,” he mutters, his lips brushing over your neck. “I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a few days.”

“You succeeded,” you say, a smile curving your lips, your body still tingling, still humming with the aftermath. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be the same after that.”

Lando lets out a soft, possessive moan at your words, his arms tightening around you. “Good,” he mutters, his lips moving over your skin, “because I plan on doing that to you again and again, darlin. Over and over. Until you can’t even remember your own name.”

You let out a soft, contented sigh, a shiver of anticipation running through you. “Is that a promise?” you murmur, your voice soft, sultry.

Lando lets out a low rumble of affirmation, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind your ear. “It’s a promise, darlin,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m going to keep you in bed for days, love. Until you forget everything except my name.”

You shiver at the possessive, primal note in his voice, the promise in his words. “You’re going to wear me out,” you murmur, your body already stirring with renewed desire.

Lando lets out another low rumble, his hands beginning to wander over your body, reigniting the fire between you. “That’s the plan, darlin,” he mutters, his lips moving down your neck, “to wear you out and then wear you out some more. I can’t get enough of you, love. I never will.”

You let out a soft, wanton moan, your body arching against his, your heart swelling with a mixture of pleasure and desire. “You’re insatiable,” you murmur, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Only with you, darling . Only you,”

[rememberwren]

Pianist! Reader ft. Ghost "what the fuck is that infernal racket" (it's Reader practising Rimsy-Korsakoff) and Soap "play Flower of Scotland!!! Play Scotland the Brave!!!!!!" and Gaz "I have good fingers, can you teach me"

The only one who behaves is Price and that's because he's busy trying to find reader to fuck them on top of the bloody piano. Yes yes, he'll pay for another if it breaks or something

I just made a post the other day about Simon’s hand size vs. Johnny’s but the piano is so hand-focused (and I’m such a slut for hands) it’s hard not to think of it.

I see this piano being in a bar, and while playing it usually isn’t in your job description, everyone including the owner knows you’ve got the training to put on a little show during slow nights or special occasions (like that year there was a snowstorm on Christmas Eve and you made a grown man cry with your rendition of O Holy Night).

The 141 are the only newcomers in the bar, and the night is incredibly slow. You play one little tune as you pass the piano, pecking at the keys with a single finger, and it’s enough to attract their attention.

Johnny and Kyle crowd around the piano flirting obscenely with you (almost as much as they’re flirting with each other). They ask you to play something, so you do. Half the time your eyes are on the keys but the other half of the time they’re watching the large man who’s refused to leave the booth, the mask over his mouth doing nothing to disguise the way he’s watching your hands.

“Can you teach me?” Kyle asks, leaning against the piano lightly. “I’ve been told I have very good hands.”

You ignore that for the bait it is and shift over. “Depends. What’s your hand span?”

“My what?” he asks, laughing, sitting on the bench beside you.

“Your hand span! From your thumb to your pinky, how far can you reach on the piano.” You demonstrate, dextrous enough to span a ninth. Genetics keep you from reaching any further. It doesn’t bother you; Chopin could only reach a ninth after all.

Kyle’s hands can stretch to a tenth. Johnny insists on having his turn next, and the both of them begin arguing over whose hands are larger and more dextrous. They might as well have their dicks out, you think, rolling your eyes.

You stand and get back to your duties, leaving them to you with the piano a while longer. You’re busy pouring drinks when a sound rings out that catches your attention, clear as a bell over the quiet din of the bar. Your head snaps to the piano.

The man in the mask stands there—fingers easily spanning a twelfth.

Your mouth goes dry, imaging the size difference if you were to hold your hands up palm to palm. Satisfied, he turns away from the piano and accidentally catches your eye. He raises both his brows once in a jaunty little motion before sitting back down at the booth with his friends, something about his slumped posture registering as distinctly smug.

Rightfully so. You’re scrambling for a napkin to write your number on, that note still ringing in your ears.

[girl4music]

“So why does She-Ra’s power of love ending work? The simplest way to put it is that She-Ra is a show about love (among other things), so rather than seeming forced and incongruous, making love the heart of the show’s climax makes perfect sense.”

Simply put. As you said.

Because the entire show as an emotional resonance for the audience that is watching is a complex love story.

“Is Power of Love stronger than the Love of Power?”

Nailed it!

And yes. The fact that it is a queer love story between 2 lead female characters adds on to the Power of Love theme because there is more challenges in queer love.

It’s not as easy as straight love and it should be depicted that way. She-Ra pulls no punches on it.

The ending in the theme of Power of Love hits and lands because they really make it something to work towards as a victory by employing how hard and scary it is to love and be loved as a queer person throughout the entirety of the TV show. It’s a real triumph as a culmination of so much difficultly and hardship both lead characters have dealt with - and kids show or not - are honest with. Indy knew this was the RIGHT ending.

The Power of Love is a theme or trope that’s exploited in TV so much that I always just groan and roll my eyes whenever I see it used as a “conclusion” because in essence, it’s just not used in the RIGHT way in that it’s not taken seriously as the very complex theme that it is and it’s why I can’t stand watching pure romance TV shows/films or just romance storytelling in general. The stakes are never high enough so it all just falls very flat.

She-Ra takes the Power of Love theme and trope as a serious conclusion and it resonates so very strongly and powerfully emotionally, narratively, thematically, sonically… Characteristically…

It just works because the show itself is all about love and the power that it can have on an individual life.

It’s the right ending for She-Ra - for the lead characters especially - because it concludes their individual arcs.

Adora learns that she can have love and she doesn’t have to throw away her destiny or duty to have it. That it doesn’t have to be either one or the other. It can be both and that she deserves to have both as a person.

Catra learns that love has always been at the forefront of what she wanted, most desired, she just needed to be brave enough to reach out for it and grab it and hold it and it will be what replaces that dark empty unsafe void that abuse and trauma and hardship has put there.

What they’re saying isn’t just that love wins (that’s obvious), but love heals too. Love is what heals pain.

Whether it be romantic love, maternal love, familial love,… it doesn’t matter. The Power of Love is the point.

The fact a kids show can do that and so many adult shows struggle like hell really just goes to show that people do really believe that love is weak and finite.

I pity those people so much. I know why I’m not like that and it’s because of another TV show where the Power of Love - redemptive love in particular - is present and done so well that I am grounded in its lessons and it will always be what I believe in most.

And She-Ra very much reminds me of that TV show. A children’s animated version of ‘Xena: Warrior Princess’.

@boopblep

@sevenlascaras

@itsaboringname

This is the final post of my not-quite-thesis on why Catradora is the greatest love story in the history of kids TV and arguably the greatest love story in TV history, period. In the first installment, I covered how Catra and Adora’s character arcs compliment each other and how they come apart and together over the course of the series. In the second, I covered how the ambiguities and conflicts of their relationship deepen their story and, by making their relationship conflict the central conflict in the story, make the relationship itself the center of the story. In the third I talked about how important Catra and Adora’s (intense) desire for each other is both in the show’s plot and in its themes. If you want to read these, I’ve linked them below. To tie these together and wrap everything up, I’m going to talk about what these elements add up to on the screen: She-Ra is the rare show that actually pulls off a Power of Love ending. More than pulling it off, She-Ra makes the power of love one of the most inspiring and stirring and exciting themes I could imagine. And I hate power of love endings. So how did they do it?

First, let’s talk about the power of love as a trope in the conclusion of action/adventure fantasy or sci-fi stories. So to clarify, when I say ‘the Power of Love’ I mean the use of love as an explicitly or implicitly magical source of power (or, in more realistic stories, inspiration) that allows a hero to overcome their final challenge and triumph. It’s common, perhaps particularly common in kids media. I suspect one plus it offers to writers is that it gives a romance sideplot more narrative significance, thus tying it into the main plot, plus it’s inspiring and warm and fuzzy and optimistic. But it’s deployed so often that it’s essentially a cliche, and if we look at how it’s used I think we can see why. Here are several ways in which The Power of Love doesn’t work. Most of these involve it not fitting with the rest of the story, or seeming contrived, IE a Deus Ex Machina, but the different reasons for this are important:

Most mundanely, the Power of Love couldn’t have any place in the story’s world. Introducing love as a powerful force at the conclusion of your story when you haven’t mentioned it beforehand can feel like a worldbuilding Deus Ex machina as you change the rules to suit narrative convenience.

More deeply, sometimes The Power of Love doesn’t fit thematically or tonally with the rest of the story. If a story is emotionally realistic and fraught, with lots of shades of gray, pain, and even atrocities, and doesn’t include notes of hope or humanism, throwing in ‘and then he was saved by the power of love’ at the end is practically a Deus Ex Machina, thematically. If you’ve created a cynical world, a gushingly optimistic ending is jarring. It may outright contradict a lot of the show’s other themes. A milder example are shows that are optimistic but not particularly concerned with love, thematically, and how these may do a disservice to their other themes by placing so much emphasis on love (particularly romantic love) in their conclusion. Ideally, a story’s ending should wrap up the themes its concerned itself with - it should provide the audience something to take away. This doesn’t have to be a decisive or triumphant conclusion, it could be an open question or even something that is quite disturbing, but the ending of a story should be -about- the same things that the story was about, generally speaking.

On a similar note, sometimes The Power of Love doesn’t fit narratively. If a romance plot is a fairly minor part of a work of fiction, having the final battle hinge on the power of love derived from that romance plot feels like a -narrative- nonsequitur. If a TV show has spent most of its run time on political plots, training montages and action sequences and three episodes on a romantic arc and then it’s the romantic arc that turns out to be the most decisive in the end, there’s a disconnect between the emphasis that the narrative itself puts on the various threads of the plot, versus what the ending is -saying- their importance is. 

Relatedly, On a character level, if most of the story has been about a character’s growth as an individual and if that has no connection to their romantic relationship then a power of love ending is irrelevant to that development, and might even subvert it (as might be the case if a straight, female protagonist whose been presented as independent is saved by the power of her love for a minor male character). Digging deeper, if characters aren’t motivated by love, if it isn’t want drives them through the story, then making love the narrative hinge of the story’s climax doesn’t fit with what the characters want and thus who they are.

Finally, and more philosophically, generally speaking these kinds of endings just feel kind of glib and false. Not only optimistic, they feel naive or even dishonest in telling us that the power of love can save us. Because nothing is ever that simple in our lives, is it? Love isn’t simple. It is often painful, fraught, and difficult. Stories that ignore this and simply celebrate love’s power aren’t true to our experience. Put another way, stories can fail to land a power of love ending when they don’t understand what love even is.

Now all of these reasons are closely related. A story that doesn’t provide much narrative emphasis on love probably doesn’t have love as a major theme. And a story that hasn’t explored love in any kind of depth will naturally feel kind of false and glib when it concludes that The Power of Love WIll Save Us. Really, this applies to any thematic conclusion, not just this one - whenever a story’s ending doesn’t reflect what the story itself is about and whenever it doesn’t show thought and depth in how it delivers it, it feels false and hollow. Looking back at how much I’ve enjoyed, or not enjoyed, various endings, I think that this explains a lot of my reactions.

To use an example, Steven Universe was a great, complex, emotionally nuanced and often very dark show with a lot of fascinating themes and insights into human psychology and relationships that ended its Diamond Age arc on a simple message about accepting yourself, and I feel like that’s one of several reasons the Diamond’s ‘redemption’ (such as it is) rings hollow (there’s more wrong with that than this, though). None of that complexity or nuance or darkness or depth was addressed, let alone incorporated into the actual ending of the original TV run (I won’t get into Future and the Movie). At least, I didn’t see it (then again, this is very much tied in with my larger feelings about SU, which is my frustration that it didn’t double down on and follow through with my favorite elements and characters, which I loved so much, and instead began to emphasize simpler and more easily digested themes and easier answers).

So why does She-Ra’s power of love ending work? The simplest way to put it is that She-Ra is a show about love (among other things), so rather than seeming forced and incongruous, making love the heart of the show’s climax makes perfect sense. But this is me, so let’s dive into the details of this - how is She-Ra about love, and how does Catra and Adora’s relationhip’s culmination in the kiss tie that up?

The first key is that She-Ra is -narratively- and structurally a love story, not simply an adventure story with a romance plot. As I mentioned in the first essay of this series, Catra and Adora’s arcs are interwoven as they diverge and then converge over the show’s run. More than that, their arcs are compliments to each other, and at the end of them Adora and Catra have grown into more compatible people. Seen through the lens of their relationship, both Catra and Adora’s development is about them growing into women who are capable of loving each other (as well as growing into their own women, and these two are linked). 

In addition, from the very outset the show has established how central Adora and Catra are to each other, and has also shown just how big a hole they leave in each other’s lives, and how only their reconciliation can fill that hole. Put another way, the converse of Adora’s statement in The Promise that ‘Nothing bad can happen as long as we have each other’ is proven in the worst way possible when Adora and Catra both nearly self-destruct when they are apart from each other, because they are missing the person who understands them well enough to help them when they need it most. That, and Adora and Catra -want- each other so much (see the third part of this series), and its established so clearly that to be loved and wanted is central for both of them. Catra doesn’t think she deserves it, and Adora doesn’t think she can even -ask- for it (or even fully think about it) without betraying her destiny or her duty. It’s only at the heart that this central question is answered with their kiss. By making both the depth of their affection and the strength of their desire for each other clear throughout the show, Noelle and the showrunners sell us on how much this relationship and that kiss mean to these characters.

Moreover, because the conflict between Catra and Adora drives the central conflict of the story (as I mentioned in my second essay), the final and decisive resolution of this conflict (indeed, it’s transformation into love) in the kiss is the perfect culmination to the show’s central arc. Rather than a final fight, Season 5 of She-Ra shows Catra and Adora working through the root causes of their conflict now that they’ve grown as people - it is a dramatization of a couple working out their relationship problems, and somehow it is actually riveting TV as opposed to feeling like a John Gottman book in narrative form.

Just as She-Ra is narratively a love story, thematically it is also a Show About Love, or perhaps more precisely, about relationships and how people can relate to each other in healthy and unhealthy ways. So much of what all the characters struggle with are relational questions - questions of how they can be a good friend, how they can be loyal yet true to themselves and their ideals, how they can honor other people's autonomy while also looking out for them, etc. Not just Catra and Adora but all the characters have learned more about being there for each other, about respecting themselves, and about admitting when they’re wrong and making it right. More mundanely, the power of love (as an inspiration and also a source of magical power) has been present since the first season.

While a lot of this exploration has been about friendship, the show has also explored the power of desire as well as the things that keep us from naming and acting on our desires. Catra and Adora’s love for each other, while appropriate for a Y-7 show, is not desexualized or abstracted, and this also gives it a realism and a poignancy, as well as a power. Among other things, it very much feels like a real relationship between two early 20-somethings.  

Moreover, She-Ra has not pulled its punches about how messy all of this is, and I think this is key. Like I said earlier, She-Ra understands that love isn’t always a good thing. It understands the power of love, good and bad - “for love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which hath a most vehement flame.” The show has explored obsession, jealousy, control, incompatible values and the psychological hang ups and traumas that keep us from being vulnerable, as well as the havoc that can wreck. Instead of showing all the relationships in the show as uniformly good and supportive, its explored dynamics that are unhealthy or even disturbing, and in Catra’s case, we’ve seen just how twisted love can become, and how closely linked it is with hate. But then the show has shown how people can choose to grow and change and heal. The show, and its characters, have confronted the dark side of human relationships head on and triumphed. So instead of feeling glib, naive and possibly insincere, the ending of She-Ra feels hard-earned and triumphant as well as genuinely moving and insightful.

Another way of looking at this is to say that She-Ra has been deploying the Power of Love all along - seemingly naively in season 1, but with the disintegration of Catra and Adora’s relationship serving as a kind of tragic, sinister counterpoint to all the Princess Alliance’s celebrations of togetherness and friendship. Then it complicates the Power of Love in season 2, especially showing how it fails (or perhaps betrays) Catra when she lets what I think is her lingering love for Shadow Weaver make her vulnerable to manipulation. Ironically, so much of Catra’s schemes in the first parts of the show only work as well as they do because she’s similarly exploiting Adora’s feelings for her, though unlike Shadow Weaver I don’t think she fully understands that’s what she’s doing (but Catra has very much adopted Shadow Weaver’s view that Love is a Weakness). And the Power of Love isn’t enough to keep Adora and Catra together in the portal - indeed that ends with Adora decking Catra, Angella sacrificing herself and Adora sending Catra off with a death glare. Season 4 is very much about the -failure- of the power of love, perhaps because both Glimmer and Catra choose power over trust and connection. This is shown most brutally in ‘Boys Night Out’, which plays like a dark parody of the sometimes too-pat, too-simple conclusions of Season 1 episodes, and leads right into Fractures. So after 13 episodes celebrating the power of love (with those weird undertones from Catradora’s...complexity), the show spends 26 episodes subverting the original optimistic set up and pointing out that it’s much more complicated than that, and sometimes people who love each other hurt each other, and somtimes love isn’t enough to fix it (which to be fair, is very much present in Season 1 in Promise, which is hindsight sets up the tone of the show much more than the cheery end of The Battle of Brightmoon). But Season 4 ends with DT’s speech making the subtext of Season 4 text - that Catra’s domineering and posturing are there mostly to cloak her underlying need. Season 5, then, is all about repairing the rifts of the past 4 seasons (starting with the wreckage Glimmer leaves at the end of S4) and making something better. 

Indeed, the question ‘Will Love Win?’ and ‘Is Power of Love Stronger than the Love of Power’? Is central to the show. As I mentioned above, this is spelled out most explicitly by Shadow Weaver, but it is an idea held by Hoard Prime as Well: both believe that Love is a Weakness, an irrational prejudice or a passion to exploit. Both Catra and Adora have internalized this, in different ways - Catra perhaps has better internalized the idea that love is an exploitable weakness, while Adora has internalized the idea that it is an irrational distraction from What Must be Done. Throughout the entire series, we see characters destroy themselves by following the logic of Shadow Weaver and Prime, and finding redemption and grace when they embrace love and vulnerability instead. There is so much more to say about Shadow Weaver and her importance, here, and more about Prime, but this is a Catradora essay, so let’s just say that Catra and Adora’s narrative arc is a refutation of both Prime and Shadow Weaver’s worldview. They are at their lowest when they reject  their love for each other, and at their strongest when they embrace it (and each other). So when Catra and Adora kiss, they’re not just answering the great question that the narrative has been setting up in our minds (when are these two just going to make out already!?) but answering the question the show’s been posing all along. Love wins.

Last but not least, it’s important that the ending of She-Ra is queer as all hell. This isn’t a story about the power of straight love, and that’s important. Not only is the power of heterosexual love is a cliche; when used to reinforce the primacy of monogamous heterosexual marriage and normative family structures (and their implied gender roles), it can be downright oppressive.* By contrast, celebrating the power of queer love is inherently a rebellious, defiant act of joy. This is especially true when queer love has been shown in its warts-and-all, messy, passionate fullness. Because that reflects our own love when it isn’t neat or tidy or perfectly well-adjusted. It reflects us when we’re not well-adjusted or self-aware or ‘together’. And it affirms that there is still so much power in our love, in us. Maybe the power to save the world.

And it’s so fucking hokey, and so fucking sincere, and yet so thoughtful, and that’s why I love this show. So much media for adults is one step away from being some James Incandenza film from Infinite Jest - a meaningless stylistic exercise or homage to some other, more sincere, more meaningful work of art (Quentin Tarantino, I am looking at you. Yes you.) She-Ra has the fucking guts to be about something, even something as mushy as The Power of Love, and to mean something. It goes for it, and it sticks the landing. And in times like these, that’s what I fucking need, and I don’t think I’m the only one.

Well Noelle, you Magnificent Bastard, you pulled it off. I’m still kind of blown away.

*Yes, you could do a non-terrible story about the power of heterosexual love - in many ways a lot of the novels of Ursula K LeGuin and the films of Jane Campion are about this, and I fucking love both as you may have noticed. But celebrating queer love will have another element that makes it more interesting. Queer love stories are operating on an additional level.

Previous essays in this series:

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

SVT with a partner that struggles with an ED

Requested? Yes!

Request: ‘hi, if you're comfortable, could you write svt with a partner who has eating disorders? im so sorry if you're not comfortable with that, i did read your guidelines post but maybe I've missed it! have a lovely day :) 💜’

TW/CW: This will discuss a sensitive topic. It is meant to be comforting and relatable, but if you’re not in a headspace for it right now, I recommend not reading. 

A/N: I recognize that idols often have issues like this of their own, but for the sake of this post, I won’t be addressing it in this reaction. The pressure to look a certain way is one of the many things I fundamentally disagree with about the idol industry. I’d really rather them carry a little more weight and be happier and healthier. I think most of us would. 

Focuses on the physical recovery - Seungcheol, Hoshi, Mingyu, Chan

The physical impact of the disorder is what makes him put his foot down about it. If you like to maintain a certain body type, he can’t say too much about it and really does want you to be happy with your body. But he can say plenty about the anemia, the low blood pressure, the GI issues, the hormonal issues, the dental problems, etc. You never feel good, and he’s tired of it. He won’t be mean, but he’ll be stubborn and insistent that you seek treatment of some sort, with the first goal to just start feeling better physically. 

Focuses on the behavioral recovery - Joshua, Wonwoo, DK, Seungkwan, Vernon

Encourages you to eat and also encourages you to keep said food down. Those are non-negotiables to him. But he also encourages you not to overdo it on the food and to pace yourself when it comes to exercising. He stresses moderation for those last two things. He’ll figure out what you feel comfortable eating until you’re ready to try a normal diet because a little food is better than nothing. And he’s so calm when that doesn’t go well sometimes, reminding you that it will be okay, but he wants you to be just as brave about it as he is patient. But if it does go well, he’ll give you endless amounts of praise for facing the issue head-on. 

Focuses on the psychological recovery - Jeonghan, Jun, Woozi, Minghao

Feels that it’s best to tackle this sort of thing at the root of the issue. He wants to know when this habit started and why you feel compelled to keep doing it. If it’s poor body image, he’ll listen patiently, but you have to listen to him explain how he sees you, which may be hard to do because his take is so different. If it has something to do with how you were raised regarding food, he’s dissecting that with you, so maybe one day it will click that it’s not the way to live life now. And if it’s about control or perfectionism, he’s encouraging you to start letting go of some of it and trust that it will be okay if you change your behavior or your weight. Exceedingly patient about it without ever making you feel that you’re being irrational when you struggle with this. 

[madisoenc]

𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙤𝙧?

yes, ask yourself that: "what am I waiting for?" and navigate in that, no one is going to manifest for you, no "universe" is going to give your desires to you, there is no external force, it's all YOU!!!

you have to be brave and once and for all accept your power, if you never go all in, you will never be able to live the life of your dreams.

be fr, you know the law is real, there are millions of people out there sharing success stories and being successful just by applying what you already know.

do you think all of us are lying?? nooo!!! if you're a person who need proof (i understand you i was there too) look at Ariana Grande, she talks about manifestation and look where she is, look at Taylor Tookes too, Michael Jackson... out there are people who are a living proof that the law is real!!!

i understand you, at first is a hard pillow to swallow that you create everything of your reality just by accepting it as true, but is a fact, is a LAW, it cannot fail you!!! be comfy on that.

i dare you to see how powerful you are!! as Taylor Tookes always says, manifest some random things, for example: seeing a colour car that you never see, a pink frog, hearing a specific song on the radio...

manifesting these things helps you to realise that is all YOU, everything comes within you. All you have to do is assume you view it everywhere, because you do!!!

you DO NOT even have to affirm 500000 times, you don't have to script, you don't have to listen to subliminals... but don't get me wrong!! if you're a person who feels better doing methods, is totally fine, but you have to understand that the methods are not what manifests, it is just you, ALWAYS.

when you start to fixate on your reality, you start to see that you create even the "little" things.

madi <3

[mer-acle]

The first birth of Athena

Before Athena emerged from Zeus, she was born to her mother, inside of an environment made for anything but life

CW: Stillbirth (temporary)

▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣

Metis swallowed hard, cradling her newborn daughter to her chest, wings protectively wrapping around them both.

It should have been the happiest moment of her life. But all she felt was cold dread.

The infant was small, way smaller than she should be, and pale as ivory. She lay perfectly still in her mother's arms, and she wasn't breathing.

"Athena," Metis whispered. Her lips gently brushed against her daughter's clammy skin. "Mama's here, Athena, please, just breathe. Please-" Her voice cracked.

The weight of Zeus' essence, always working against them ever since he had consumed them, pressed down more oppressively than it had ever done, like the new life was an insult to his divinity.

"Athena," Metis repeated, gently rocking the baby in her arms. "Breathe, my dearest, breathe for me."

She carefully pressed her hand to her daughter's chest, hoping to spark a reaction, make her cough, or anything...

She hadn't endured all this to watch her daughter fade to nothing.

Athena's wings rested limply against Metis' hand, a few downy feathers brushing against her skin.

Metis felt panicked tears slip down her face as she ran her thumb over her daughter's chest is circular motions, humming the broken tune of a lullaby.

Nothing.

Metis lifted her head to look into the unforgiving void, swirling with Zeus' energy that didn't want them there.

"You have to stop this," she whispered. "Zeus, please, let me keep her, I beg you."

She had no idea if he could hear her. At any rate, the void around her stayed still, uncaring that her baby wasn't moving.

Metis swallowed hard, cradling Athena closer to her chest, patting her back below her wings.

Her mind was racing almost too fast to keep up.

Zeus' energy almost knocked her to the floor, and Athena's small body seemed to go even colder.

Tears slipped down Metis' cheeks uninhibitedly.

"I won't lose you," she whispered. "I will not lose you, Athena."

She gently opened the baby's mouth, then briefly closed her eyes to materialize her own divine energy. If Zeus was working against his daughter, she would work for her.

A sliver of silver energy traveled out of Metis' mouth as she exhaled, into Athena's small body.

A low rumble like from thunder ran through the void. Metis flinched, wings shielding Athena more closely. The baby still didn't move.

"Come on," Metis whispered. "Come on, you're a fighter, my little one." She breathed out more energy. I need to see her... Oh fates, please, I need to see my baby open her eyes...

She felt her own essence flickering, complaining about being broken up and shared this way. She didn't care. If she had to shatter herself completely to make Athena live, she would.

Another breath, another sliver of silver into her baby's mouth. Zeus' essence pressed against her wings, an oppressive weight.

Metis took a shaky breath, pressing a kiss to Athena's forehead.

"You're so strong," she whispered brokenly. "You're so brave, my little girl."

A shudder ran through the small body in her arms. Metis exhaled in a soft sob.

Athena squirmed, her little face scrunching up. A weak sound escaped her mouth, more of a whimper than a cry, but her chest rose and fell shakily.

Metis laughed tearfully, cradling her daughter close.

"There you are," she whispered. "There you are, my little warrior. It's alright, Mama's right here."

Athena whimpered again, more strongly this time. Her tiny wings stiffened and shook behind her.

Metis kissed her again, caressing her daughter's small face.

"Athena," she murmured, wanting the girl to hear her name. The baby cooed softly, almost a chirping noise, then her eyes flickered open.

Metis caught her breath, meeting her baby's gaze for the first time.

Dark, almost black, with yellow flecks. Zeus' eyes. Almost. Metis frowned, looking more closely. A faint rim of silver around the iris, the same color as the energy that had brought her to life in this inhospitable environment.

Athena cooed again, yawning.

"You're perfect," Metis whispered tenderly, fingers gently brushing over Athena's skin. "You're beautiful, and you're mine, my little girl. I'll do anything for you, little Nea, I swear to you, anything."

Athena moved a little, tiny hand closing around the fabric of Metis' chiton. Her small body shuddered, then she started crying.

"There," Metis whispered, rocking the little goddess in her arms. "Shhh, it's okay. I know it's not nice here. Shhh." She wrapped the baby into her himation, holding her close.

She knew it wasn't over, not close. Zeus' essence was only barely kept at bay. But she was holding her baby and comforting her, and for that moment, she was the happiest she has ever been.

▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣■▣

[yourloyalwatchdog]

CW: hypnotic induction, light confusion induction, obedience triggers, suggestion to share this post

· — ☆ — ·

they say your mind is in its absolute dumbest state while you're scrolling through social media.

it must be so easy to slip subtle messages into these simple strings of words that might sneak past your conscious mind and seep right into your subconscious, because that's the only part of you that needs to understand what i'm saying right now.

it can be so easy to start to zone out and find yourself forgetting everything around you. your eyes can sometimes find themselves so fixated on the screen, on reading each and every word so carefully that everything else you were thinking before becomes simply irrelevant, just pops away like bubbles in a clear blue sky.

and you might think you want to look away, but you'd be wrong. think about it. you haven't yet, have you? that must be because you really want to be here, right? so why would you look away now if you want this?

don't think about it too hard. or let your mind wander, that's okay too. either way, a part of you is clearly interested in what i have to say, so i know you'll come back for more. if you're still reading this, it's because

you want this.

i didn't put you in this state. you chose this, didn't you? i know you've been scrolling and scrolling for minutes, hours, or maybe even days waiting to find that certain someone who would be brave enough to tell you how you're completely docile right now.

that's okay. everybody feels this sometimes, when they scroll for such a long time. it's perfectly normal, so you can just allow yourself to let go and sink into it. everything else can just fade into the background while you focus more and more on my words.

there you go, that's better...

it's much more enjoyable when you let your mind relax and enjoy this feeling, now isn't it?

that's right. it feels good. you want this.

hm... i bet all those pesky thoughts are such hard work, aren't they? it must be exhausting, having to use your brain so much, huh? wouldn't it be so much easier to let me do all the thinking for you instead?

of course it would. so i'm going to do you a favor in a few moments, if you can just focus and follow along for me, ok?

very good. you're doing so well. you're really so good at reading every one of my words and letting them into your empty mind.

i'm going to count from 10, down to 1, and with every number, you may notice that it's becoming harder and harder to think of anything but the numbers. so eager to reach the next one, anticipating it, but staying focused on reading the words between, because that's what i've told you to do, and you probably don't have the mind to disobey me, do you?

or, of course, you might not notice anything at all as you become more and more...

blank.

you want this.

so we start with

10,

your mind drifting in a state of perpetual fuzz, like draping you in a soft, cozy blanket.

9,

relaxing into the warmth, because it's nice and comfortable and safe here.

8,

each number acts like the snap of my fingers, bringing you to attention and keeping your focus.

7,

reading more, thinking less.

6,

and however your body reacts, it's perfectly fine and normal.

5,

it means you're comfortable here with me, and that's very good.

4,

getting so close to where you want to be now, and however deep you want to go, you can go.

3,

it's exciting to realize that my thoughts are becoming your thoughts. you're becoming emptier. and that feels good.

2,

feeling so good now, so much bliss and deep relaxation. you're ready for me to finish counting, waiting so desperately for that last number.

and

1,

just let yourself

DROP.

you want this.

you want to be hypnotized, and it feels so good as you

DROP.

it's okay if you slump over a bit, or your eyes flutter. but you'll keep them open, because you want to keep reading.

you want to

DROP.

you want this.

and because you want this, you will allow it into your mind.

you want my words to be true.

it feels good when my words are true, doesn't it?

you want to nod your head.

and so you nod your head.

you want to

DROP.

every time i tell you to

DROP.

you go so much deeper.

and you want to go deeper.

you want this.

and because you want this, it will become true.

so when i, or anyone you trust to control you, tells you

you want this.

you'll find yourself wanting it. and it feels so natural, because you do want it, don't you? you must, if you feel this strongly about it.

and of course you do, because

you want this to be true.

and just like that, it is. but you've chosen to let it become true, and that is important.

you will only do what you're comfortable doing. wanting something doesn't mean you have to do it. you still have free will, and if you don't feel safe in doing something, you will not have to do it. remember this.

this is for your safety. i need you to be safe, and take care of yourself. good playthings take care of themselves.

now...

you want this.

you want to be hypnotized.

you want to read my words.

you want to obey my words.

you want to

DROP.

even deeper for me.

that's it. you've done so well.

so let's put this to the test, what do you say?

you want to like this post.

you want to reblog this post and share how good it made you feel.

you want to read this again whenever it comes up on your feed.

and when you reread this, the suggestions within will become so much stronger, and control you even deeper.

feel the desire to follow my suggestions grow stronger with each passing moment. but you won't yet. you'll finish reading this, and then you'll obey your orders.

after you've liked and reblogged this post, you'll wake from this trance as slowly or as quickly as you'd like. if you want to take a few minutes to bask in this pleasant relaxation, that's perfectly okay, and if you'd rather come all the way up as soon as you're finished, that's fine too. whenever you choose to wake up, you'll do so feeling refreshed, and ready to take on the rest of your day with a smile.

now go ahead and follow my instructions. i know you want to give in.

i hope you enjoyed this, and that you have a lovely rest of your day :)

[butchvamp]

i dont know how you could play veilguard and genuinely think the dalish elves are represented well in that game. you can't even play a dalish rook (except somehow they kinda are dalish, but also you can make them andrastian too, because actually you're not dalish but you do know elven and call them "our gods" repeatedly for some reason but your faith is completely unshaken by all of this regardless), there are no dalish clans in the entire game, the only one we do interact with is massacred off-screen but it's fine this time i guess because at least it's not our fault, and the two dalish companions are treated like shit by the writers and the narrative and the playerbase. the veil jumpers are not the dalish, these are separate groups, there are humans and qunari and dwarves all within the veil jumpers. the dalish are separate, irelin and strife and bellara all left their clans to join the veil jumpers. the actual dalish clan in arlathan is killed after the gods escape, there's literally a whole quest where you have to run around and find their dead bodies.

bellara is punished not once but twice with her brother's death for daring to pursue elven history, just like merrill is punished for restoring the eluvian before her. and then rook is the one that gets to choose whether or not to destroy the archive, despite not even being dalish. yes, bellara is smart and strong and brave but she also is belittled for her beliefs; her struggle at the start is played as a joke, her comments are all punchlines, and when you do get to talk to her she blames herself and feels guilty, and the game gives you no real option to comfort her. it takes the game killing her brother a second time for us to finally get to see her practice her culture without feeling guilty and without being mocked for it at his funeral, because now she's learned her lesson (but also they make sure to throw in a comment about how Weird it is, and also that all the other dalish clans have been doing the Wrong funeral rites, just to make sure we know how silly they are)

outside of davrin and bellara, the dalish are absent. strife and irelin both immediately accept the sudden revelation that their gods are evil with no pushback (and i don't care if this is because they know harding and varric, this is not communicated in the game). and apparently every other dalish elf just accepts it, too. how is this not depicting them as a monolith? did we play different games? dalish clans have their own traditions and cultures and would absolutely have different opinions about their own gods; the only way you get to see something even remotely close to this is if you take bellara and davrin out together and listen for their banters-- which are never mentioned or relevant anywhere else in game.

and no, i don't want the dalish to blindly follow the gods in veilguard, i want the entire narrative to just not be so fucking racist. the oppressed people's gods being revealed to be evil all along is just racist. nothing else can be "fixed" while this is the core plot, and we knew this since trespasser came out, since it was first revealed over 10 years ago. people have been criticizing this choice and the depiction of the dalish for over a decade. and they still continued with this storyline, despite the various other lore bits they did end up changing for better or worse... instead they just wrote out the dalish completely while still managing to perpetuate harmful anti-indigenous tropes that they've been criticized for repeatedly in the past-- that are made even worse with the total absence of any other dalish characters to counteract them.

[i9messi]

can you do an ollie bearman comfort fic?? Maybe reader is stressed and overwhelmed by uni or smth else you do whatever you want with that

Peace — Ollie Bearman

Focusing too much on your finals had made you feel anxious, so your boyfriend Ollie comes to your bedroom to help.

Word count — 1,3k

note: ollie calling baby to reader makes me feel things. feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

MASTERLIST

The smell of candles made the room smell incredibly good, but nothing was useful to calm your own destructive thoughts. You were very close to a final exam and the anxiety made you feel like the worst. You could hardly sleep well and rest as you deserved.

You had cancelled your dates with your boyfriend and your meetings with your friends. Your final was important and you were too focused on it. Who cared if you were nice, if you failed your finals?

You didn’t totally believe in fate or good vibes. Yes, you could trust that fate would be on your side and manifesting a passing grade might be important, but it was also important to study until your eyes were tired and you fell asleep with pure tiredness. As extreme as it sounds.

Your phone started ringing and that made you lose focus from the screen. You read the name on your cell phone, it was your boyfriend, Ollie. Knowing it was perhaps important, you answered the call before it rang a second time.

“Ollie? Something happened?”

“Hi, baby. I just missed hearing your voice.”

You smiled. Lately you were being a little mean with him, canceling your plans and dates with him. His voice brought a moment of peace when you needed it most. Ollie gave you peace.

“I also missed hearing your voice but I’m studying, I have a final.”

“Stress about Uni won’t do you any good, baby.”

You knew it, you also knew your boyfriend wanted the best for you.

“Ollie, I have to keep studying. Can we talk later?”

“When will I see you again? I miss you badly.”

“I don’t know. I miss you too."

“Okay. Call me if you need anything.”

When the call ended, you continued studying. Time passed, that same night you fell asleep on your desk and woke up with an incredible neck pain. Sometimes it was most useful for you to study at night, so it was barely seven pm when you locked yourself back in your room to study. Your roomie was in her room getting ready to party.

You heard the bell ring. You assumed it was a visit for your roommate. A couple of seconds later, you heard footsteps and a noise in the door. You got up and came to see who it was.

Right there was Ollie, with a teddy bear in his arms.

“Ollie, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, Ollie, I'm so happy to see you.” He joked, a little sarcastically.

“I love seeing you, really. I just didn’t know you were coming. Come on in.”

He came into your room and you realized it was a mess. The only thing that was tidy was your bed, since you had not spent the night sleeping peacefully on the mattress. Your desk was a combination of Red Bulls, empty coffee cups and snacks that was useful to you to keep you awake. The rest were books, notes and sheets of paper with the content you had to study for the exam.

“You need to take this easy.”

“I know, but you know me and you know I become a little too obsessive when I'm studying.”

He grabbed your hand and led you to bed, where he sat you on his lap.

“Listen to me, baby.”

“I listen, Ollie.”

“I know you’re a good student and you will get a good grade, but you have to remember that it’s just an exam. You are much more than a number on a piece of paper, you are more than what your professor thinks you are worth. I know how hard you work for your goals and how brave you are. So, please, at least for a few hours forget about your final and stay with me.”

“Ollie…”

“I brought you a bear.”

He offered the teddy bear to you. You grabbed it, it was brown and adorable. It wasn't the first bear your boyfriend gave you, nor would it be the last. Ollie loved to give you bears of all colors available and types, in your room you had a lot of them.

“Thank you, it's so cute. Cute like you.”

Ollie smiled and you grabbed the bear, it smelled like your boyfriend.

“Can we just lie down in your bed and cuddle?”

His brown eyes looked at you. You couldn’t say no, not when your body was so tired and you had missed him so much during those days when you barely talked.

“You don't need to ask, yes.”

And you did, you laid on bed and he hugged you from behind. You also hugged the teddy bear.

“Tell me what’s bothering you.” He muttered in your ear.

“I guess I’m just scared to forget some important information and go blank.”

“That’s not gonna happen.”

“What if it happens?”

“I don’t think your professor is a ruthless being who feeds on the blood of the innocent.”

You laughed.

“You should see how he gets when someone says a wrong answer, sometimes he scares me. I swear he gets more and more bold every class, all because of his poor nerves.”

“You will pass your final, silly.”

You turned, getting face to face with your boyfriend. You saw him so close and you came closer up to his mouth and left a sweet kiss on his lips. Ollie smiled in the middle of the kiss.

“We could watch an episode of Glee. I know you're watching it.”

“Uhmm, interesting proposal. I accept.”

With a smile on your face, you took your laptop and searched until you chose the episode you wanted. You put the computer in a comfortable place, where you and Ollie could see it quietly.

“Baby?”

“Yes?”

“I love you and I don’t want you to think for a second that you’re alone in this. I’ll be here whenever you need me. If you need someone to talk with, someone to watch tv shows or even someone to cuddle after studying. I'm here, always.”

You couldn’t stop yourself and kissed his lips. Ollie put a hand on your cheek.

“I love you so much.”

The episode of the show continued, you were so excited to be with your boyfriend that you forgot for a second the pressure of the exam. With Ollie by your side, caressing your hair and leaving kisses on your forehead was enough to be at peace.

“Go bathe and I’ll bring you food.” he suggested, once the episode was over.

“Are you saying I smell?”

Ollie just laughed.

“I’m not implying anything.”

“Fine, I’m gonna go take a bath.”

You went to your bathroom, while your boyfriend left the bedroom to cook something fast. The shower served to relax you, the pressure that you had on your shoulders felt much lighter. You put on your favorite pajamas and left the bathroom, where you found Ollie in the kitchen finishing up his food.

“Your roomie has already left, she said please don’t forget to water the plants.”

“Okay, alright.”

He brought the food onto the table, “I made pasta.”

“Smells incredible.”

Both ate in silence, something you liked about your boyfriend was that he respected the moments when you didn’t want to talk too much. Now that you were in a period full of exams, your mind was too busy to want to talk a lot. With the right words, you and Ollie dined in peace.

When you finished eating, Ollie stood up and put everything in place. Your eyes suddenly closed with exhaustion.

“Let’s go to sleep.”

You walked to your bedroom and you went to bed, repeating the same sequence of before. Ollie hugged you from behind and you hugged the teddy bear he gave you.

“Get some rest, you deserve it.”

“I feel like my mind is going to keep solving exercises while sleeping.”

“We can study tomorrow morning, I’ll help you.”

Knowing him, you knew he would keep his promise.

“I’m glad you’re here, Ollie. I was so stressed— I love you.”

“And I love you, baby. You're not alone in anything.”

[mahoganyrust]

So Im new to the httyd fandom and I was curious about the hijack ship. I don’t think Jack Frost is in httyd. Was it just one of those things where you saw Rise of the Guardians and thought Jack would go well with Hiccup? I’m just curious. ☺️

Hiiii. So I’m definitely not the one that came up with Hijack XD The ship has been around for over a decade now it’s not exactly news. But I understand when ppl first come across it it seems strange so I’ll give you a rundown.

And you’d be right. Jack isn’t in httyd and nor is Hiccup in Rotg. So in the fanon community, this is what we call a ‘rare pair’ or aka, a ship that crosses fandoms and is made up mostly of fanon content. It might seem strange but it happens a lot. It’s fanon. And crossovers are the traditional crux fun of fanfiction so it’s not that weird.

Hijack is heavily associated with a very popular quadruple crossover known as ROTBTD or Rise of The Brave Tangled Dragons. This is an intersection between Disney Merida and Rapunzel with Dreamworks Jack and Hiccup. Rotbtd went craaaazyy in the 2010s and there’s a lot of different content with fics and fanart.

From this, some ppl often ship Jackunzel or Mericup or etc etc you get the idea there’s a lot of different dynamics.

I never really dove too heavily into the rotbtd stuff but I’m still familiar.

So that’s the history. As for Jack and Hiccup? They’re weird as hell I get it lmao. Like wtf is this? XD.

Hiccup’s married with kids. Jack’s in the modern era etc. They have a lot of canon hurdles so why do people ship them?

My answer?

They work.

They work together so well in so many different ways that it takes over your brain. Hijack grows on you bit by bit.

As for what they have in common. They’re both big fliers and adrenaline junkies. They both question their purpose. They both know what it’s like to lose family. They both have gone through years of loneliness. Jack is a guardian, Hiccup is a chief - they’re both protectors. They’re both fighters. They’ve both been suddenly shunned after feeling like they were finally beginning to belong. They both have issues with footwear (lmao sorry). Hiccup creates inventions, Jack creates frosty art and fun with his powers. They both do their character development by a lake in a forest lol. They both have burly accented father figures XD. Jack is the boy who fell into icy water. Hiccup is the boy who fell into blazing fire.

There’s a beautiful parallel in lines here.

Rotg: “Jack Frost is many things, but he is not a guardian.”

Httyd: “You are many things Hiccup, but a dragon killer is not one of them.”

And they both originate each from their own book series that got adapted.

And that’s just the factual stuff. When it comes to their personalities whooowheeeeee.

Over the last decade I’ve seen lots of stuff that does them a disservice when ppl reduce Jack to the outgoing ‘jokester’ and Hiccup to the introvert ‘nerdy guy’. In the earlier days some ppl were shipping httyd1 Hiccup, which personally I find extremely weird. Never engaged with that lol. After httyd2 came out that disappeared mostly but still it’s unsettling.

Anyways I don’t like the simplification of their characters and prefer when maybe older creators can take them in a more emotionally complex direction and when they do ohhhh my goddddddd. You end up with storytelling masterpieces with amazing character dimensionality.

I could go on for hours. There’s just something about them. It’s hard to put it into a single word but when they’re done right they just work.

[glamourscat]

*waves* hellooooo ❤️

Just wanted to ask if you could do an analysis for barou too?

thank you so much for requesting this, love Barou so much. Also, this is kinda long cause i yapped away too much

Barou Shoei, also knows as the “King,” is a character full of contradictions. On the surface, his egocentric view on life and arrogant attitude make him easy to label as short-tempered and a “red flag.” But Barou is much more complex than that.

First off, the king persona isn’t just a front. Barou genuinely believes he’s the king of the field. His confidence isn’t misplaced. He knows he has the skills to back it up. This confidence comes from his deep fear of mediocrity and his relentless drive to prove his worth, both to himself and to others.

During the second selection, I initially thought Barou would learn to pass the ball, become a team player, and maybe even become friends with Isagi. Wrong. Barou does the opposite of what’s expected. And that’s what i love. Instead of fitting in, he adapts in his own way, pushing himself even harder and maintaining his individual strength. That’s the beauty of Barou, he’s resilient and unbending. He doesn’t pass the ball, he pushes himself even more to advance Isagi, a threat to his progress and yet at the same time the spark that pushed him to advance.

But Barou isn’t just about ego and power. He’s also incredibly intuitive. In the light novel, we learn about his family, specifically about his absent father and the love Barou nurtures for his mother and sisters. At just seven years old Barou had to witness his father being a deadbeat. His mother, with a one-year-old on her back and a newborn in her arms, tirelessly cooked for him. This experience forged a strong bond between Barou and his mother. As the light novel states, “When his mother was having a hard time, why wasn’t his father there? While thinking vaguely, he devoted himself to keeping the house beautiful.”

It’s no wonder Barou can’t stand people like Nagi, who are too laid-back for his liking. Although his relationship with his father isn’t explicitly stated, it’s clear it’s not a positive one. Barou grew up with his mother as his role model. She worked her ass off to provide for him and his sisters, showing resilience and strength. How could Barou, the self-proclaimed king, give up on his dreams when his mother made so many sacrifices for him?

Which brings me to this. Barou’ behaviour is a byproduct of his upbringing and experiences. Barou’s intensity on the field is matched by his loyalty and protective instincts off it. He may not show affection in conventional ways, but his actions speak volumes about his commitment to those he deems worthy.

His sheer determination to succeed and independence reminds me a lot of the “eldest daughter curse.” The one who always has to put a brave face in front of everyone. The planner. The organiser. The parent. The sibling and the child they couldn’t be. It’s canon that besides for his birth, he never cried afterwards.

Maybe because he feels he does not have the right to? Maybe because he feels other people have it worse so he refuses to cry? Or maybe because after seeing and living with an absent father, picking up the role of the missing parent and emotional supporting figure for your sisters and mother, he kinda became numb. Because your feelings and worries become an afterthought.

So, no, Barou isn’t a red flag. His intensity and harshness are just part of his dedication and his refusal to settle for mediocrity. He’s deeply committed to his goals and willing to endure solitude and criticism to achieve them. Barou’s sense of honor and integrity also sets him apart. He doesn’t cheat or rely on underhanded tactics, he achieves his goals through sheer willpower and skill.

Because that’s simply who the king is. Barou is the essence of what it means to be a striker.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[ssaluss]

Christmas dadow

Under the cut is just a little rant of mine, its about religion, christmas and myself so you can just not read, i just want to be brave for once.

Last warning, could be sensitive, just really personal under the cut.

Again its that time of year and i just don't feel it the way i did before, i can't say life is truly heavy cause i was blessed in a way not even other family members or even my parents were when they were younger, but it just lacks something? I guess childhood is finally over, and even tho i can still find some infant joy in life (wich is a thing im pretty afraid to see going away someday) i feel like i just lack the energy i had.

About religion i does have things with christmas, as a christian i have even more lack of energy seeing as its just a commercial holiday and all, i umderstand about the grattitude stuff and all, but what about the year long we lived till now? Shouldn't we be grateful? reach out to the people we care most? I guess i don't know, i feel tired constantly and after all im a coward in a way i want to make a change, share the love the Lord gives me everyday, share the love im so grateful ive learned at home even with its downs and things i may never talk about...

But im afraid and i don't know if its okay

Im afraid of changes, of the world,of the state it is in, of the future, of having a future, of not having one, of not doing enough, loosing those who are dear to me...im afraid of finally growing up.

I can't stop time, as funny as it sound cause of the post and all, i might not now our future but we can all try and change the past, and i want to be brave, maybe next year ill try and find ways to make it properly even to i have a hard time with interacting with people and touch (idk why but im already in my 20's so idk how helpful searching about it can be). Today i want to be brave by sharing this, and saying that this i feel i kinda like to see the paralels sometimes when i read the bible and pray, ecclesiastes is pretty good (my fave verse is this book, 4:2-3). And even if you don't believe, Daniel's book is kinda metal ngl, the writing in the wall? Booooooy it is rad.

Thats my rant, thanks if you reached here, be brave

Be nice

Bless u

And good night❤️

[katethetank]

The Dungeon - Chapter 2

Rating: 18+ minors gtfo Chapter Summary: Eddie comes back, Steve is brave and clueless, the pieces fall together CW: Steve is oblivious, mentions of oral sex in regards to song lyrics Tags: Alternate Universe - modern setting, Rock Star Eddie, Counselor Steve, Eddie is gay, Steve is bi, Steve has no idea who Eddie is, slow burn, idiots in love Word Count:2189

Chapter 1<<>>Chapter 3

The rest of the night seems to drag on, every minute passing by like another hour. And Steve keeps looking back at the door, waiting and hoping for it to open and bring his beautiful stranger back.

Steve was knocked a little off kilter when he first saw him standing on the other side of the counter. Dark hair piled on top of his head. Half his face hidden behind some serious Audrey Hepburn shades, but beneath those, the most pillowy, kissable lips. And god, he looked so soft and cozy. Something about a man in sweats just made Steve want to nest. Cuddle up on a couch under blankets, exchange soft and lazy kisses, maybe take a little nap and snuggle. 

God, he’s not beating those “mom” allegations anytime soon, is he?

But Jesus, when he whipped those sunglasses off and batted his big old doe eyes at Steve, smirked, called him sweetheart…He was a goner.

He hoped he played it cool, but in the back of his mind he knows better. He used to be able to charm the pants off of anyone, but all of his time spent with the kids-who-are-no-longer-kids have robbed him of his cool points, and Robin had turned him into a rambling mess much like herself. 

There was some kind of spark there though, right? He wasn’t imagining it? Steve was rightfully bummed when he…Eddie…ordered his drink to go. He was hoping to work on his charm a little more, attempt some flirting of his own, see if he could bring out a blush on Eddie’s cheeks too. 

But fate just doesn’t work that way for Steve. He doesn’t get the romantic meet cutes that lead to true love. He doesn’t get the happy ending. Lord knows he tried. He’s a sucker for love and has tried to find it in not always the best places. He’s left every single one of his hookups hoping for something more, that maybe this one would be the one. But they either ghost him or only want to fuck again. 

Steve wants something more. Something deeper. He wants to be happy. He wants to find his person. Robin does her damnedest to hype him up and they both believe his person is out there, somewhere. He’s just been having to kiss a lot of frogs trying to find them.

The clock ticks on and Steve starts to lose hope that Eddie will come back. Why would he? It’s a weeknight, he said he had to work, the last thing he would want after a long day and late night is more caffeine. 

He busies himself around the shop, doing the chores the kids asked him to. He’s got Billie Eilish’s new album playing over the speakers, and it’s helping to chill him out a bit. No way metal could have the same effect, fuck your very much Mike Wheeler.

He’s wiping down the machines behind the counter, singing along with Billie about eating pussy, and doesn’t hear the door open. He doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching. Doesn’t hear someone slump onto the counter. 

“I’ll run a shower for you like you want! Clothes on the counter for you, try 'em on! If I’m allowed I’ll help you take them o-o-o-o-off!

“Well hot damn, that’s the nicest offer I’ve had all week!”

Steve, not being startled in the slightest, shrieks like a girl and throws his rag at Eddie’s face.

“Oh my god! Do I have to put a bell on you?! You scared the shit out of me!”

Eddie is laughing so hard he’s bent over the counter, his face is red, crinkles appearing around his eyes. Steve can’t help but laugh with him.

“Sorry!” Eddie gasps and raises his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you! Oh my god, you said earlier that you could scream, but that honey? That was something else!” 

Leave it to Steve to make a total ass of himself in front of a gorgeous man. Now that his heart rate is coming back down, he’s registering how gorgeous Eddie actually looks. 

Gone are the cozy sweats and Hepburn glasses. His hair is down, wild and untamed and Steve wants to bury his face in it. He’s got some black eyeliner smudged around his eyes, making them look even darker and deeper. A black leather jacket covers his broad shoulders and peeking out from underneath…is that mesh? Dragging his eyes down further, he lands on a handcuff belt buckle resting above skin tight leather pants that look like they were painted on. Lord help him. His mouth goes a little dry. 

Clearing his throat, he meets Eddie’s eyes again - which are dancing with mischief. A Cheshire grin plastered on his beautiful face. Fuck. He caught Steve gawking at him, didn’t he?

“Uh. Yeah. Sorry. You want a..?” He points, intelligently, to the menu while he tries to get a fucking grip Jesus, Harrington!

Eddie just smiles, shakes his head, and leans on the counter.

Damn, that man knows how to lean.

“So what uh…what brings you back?”

“Well Stevie, I said be back to see you later, and I am nothing if not a man of my word. How was your night sweetheart?”

Steve is going to die. He’s going to simply pass away while this insanely hot man is leaning and smiling and giving all of his attention to Steve. “Fine. It was fine. Kinda boring actually. Not a lot of action around here on a Thursday night, you know?”

“Aw, honey, a man as pretty as you should have no trouble getting all kinds of action.”

Steve almost audibly rolls his eyes. “Wow that was awful! Does that kind of line usually work? I’m almost embarrassed for you!” 

Eddie’s face falls. 

Shit. He was going for cheeky and it came off bitchy.

“Fuck. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m so-“

Eddie, throws his head back and cackles. “Steve! You’ve got some claws, sweetheart!” He slaps his hand over his heart and admits, “You’re right! You’re right, that was horrible! My deepest apologies m’lord. I do appreciate your honesty, and I promise I’ll workshop some of my material a little more for next time.”

Steve breathes a sigh of relief. Thank god he didn’t fuck this up so quickly! “Next time, huh? You making plans for me already?”

Pulling a lock of hair over his full lips, Eddie looks almost bashful as he says,”I don’t know, how willing are you to be subjected to more heinous pickup lines?”

You could lay them on me forever. Lay on me forever.

“Hmm… depends. How willing would you be to have lunch with me tomorrow?”

Eddie perks up and Steve swears if he had a tail, it would be furiously wagging right now. ”I - yeah! I could do lunch! Where uh… where are you thinking?”

“There’s a place on the other side of town, by the community center. Wayne’s Diner? They make a mean grilled cheese. Have you been there before?”

Eddie gets this look on his face that Steve can’t pinpoint. Something almost…fond. “Yeah. I think I know the place. I can meet you there around 1:00?”

Steve’s heart is doing fucking backflips in his chest. He can’t believe this guy actually wants to go out with him. “It’s a date.”

There’s the blush Steve was hoping for. It looks really pretty on Eddie. 

They just kinda gaze at each other for a moment when Steve realizes that he’s supposed to be closing up the shop soon. “Ah shit, it’s getting late. I better finish up here, make sure I got everything done so I don’t catch hell from the shitheads.”

Eddie snickers and nods his head.”I’ll get out of your hair, sweetheart. My carriage is about to turn into a pumpkin anyway,” he says while pointing to the clock in the wall reading nearly midnight. Before heading out, he reaches for Steve’s hand, slowly brings it to his lips, and places a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.”

Steve? Swoons.

Nobody has ever set off fireworks like that in him before, especially not from something as simple as a kiss to his hand. He watches Eddie saunter out of the shop and Steve has to brace himself on the counter before he passes the fuck out. 

No sooner than the door closes that it flies back open again and a whirlwind of chaos comes barreling in. 

“Steve!  Why did we just see Eddie fucking Munson leaving our fucking shop?!” This is the most hysterical Steve had ever seen Dustin. All of them really. Even Max and El, clinging to each other while jumping up and down, are apparently losing their minds.

“How do you guys know Eddie? He was in here earlier today and he came back to uh… well. I’ve kinda got a date with him tomorrow.”

If it wasn’t for Billie still playing on the speakers, you could have heard a pin drop.

Steve looks around the cluster of faces, seeing shock, surprise, elation, disbelief, and (ok fuck off Mike) disgust. The kids have known forever that he’s queer as fuck, so he can’t fathom why they’re all reacting like this. Dustin seems to snap out of it first and slowly steps up to the counter.

“Steve. Buddy. Pal. You need to tell me everything, right fucking now.”

Steve quirks his eyebrow. What the hell has gotten into these dipshits? Oh fuck, they didn’t actually end up doing drugs did they? “Are you guys high? Did you take something at the concert? I fucking told you, don’t take shit from people you don’t know, it’s not safe!”

They all collectively roll their eyes as if they’d been rehearsing it, which he wouldn’t be surprised if they had. Max pipes up from behind the boys, “No mom, we didn’t take anything! Now spill, I want the dirty details!”

“Not much dirty about it kiddo, he came in earlier while you guys were leaving, ordered a drink to go, talked about music, and he kinda…flirted a little bit. I mentioned I’d be here till close and he said he’d try to stop by after work. I totally didn’t think he’d show up again, but he popped in just a little while ago and I asked him out. We’re going to lunch tomorrow.” Steve shrugs at that and turns around to gather his shit from behind the counter. The kids can lock up, he’s exhausted and is ready to climb into bed.

The silence from them is loud so he turns back around to see them staring wide-eyed back at him.

“What? Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

Mike shakes his head in disbelief. “Of course. Of fucking course Steve would be the one manning the shop while Eddie fucking Munson comes in. And you seriously had the balls to ask him out?! Unbelievable. He’s like a dorky mother hen and he manages to get a date with a fucking rock star.”

Wait. What?

“Wait. What? The fuck are you talking about?”

A collective groan fills the room. Dustin, looking at him like he’s an idiot, asks “Steve, what drink did he order?”

“Uh…The Corroded Coffin?”

Dustin nods his head slowly and asks, “And what concert did we go to tonight?”

“…Corroded Coffin…”

Oh fuck. No. No no no.

The pieces all begin to fall into place. The incognito outfit, the questions about the band, him showing up again later looking like��yeah, looking like a rock star.

The color drains from his face.

“Oh shit. Oh my god. Guys, I think I really fucked up.”

Mike’s eyes go wide. “What did you do??”

Steve grimaces. “I might have…talked shit about his band. Called it ‘noise’ and said his singing just sounded like screaming.”

The outburst from the kids makes him wince.

“What the fuck, Steve?!”

“Are you serious??”

“You did NOT?”

“This is hilarious!”

“You’re dead to me”

Steve runs his hand down his face and says, “Guys, I didn’t know! I don’t listen to your weird music, ok?! What the fuck do I do? I can’t believe I screwed this up already.”

The girls step up to the counter, always more logical than the boys thank god, and offer some reassurance. El, the angel of the bunch, rubs his shoulder and tells him, “I’m sure it’s not that bad. He still came back right?”

Max agrees, “Yeah, if he was totally repulsed by your idiocy, he would have bailed. But he didn’t. And for some reason actually agreed to go out with you. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Steve nods his head. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe you’re right. What do I do though? I’m meeting him for lunch tomorrow and I’m gonna feel like such an ass when I see him.”

“Apologize, dumbass!” says Dustin. “Seriously, do we have to tell you everything? You’re not a child.”

This kid’s gotta get his ego in check.

And Steve has got to prepare himself to do some serious groveling if he has any hope of salvaging whatever this is.

Chapter 1<<>>Chapter 3

************************************************

Comment if you'd like to be on the taglist! It's my first time doing this, so let me know if I screw it up. This is also posted on my ao3 account if you wanna check it out there.

@annachronisme

[theartofsimpatry]

A snippet that I dont plan on finishing:

Royal AU Shigaraki x reader

Imagine King!AFO gifting a young Prince!Shiggy a playmate; a child of one of the maids, you. You were one of the only people to treat Shiggy as a fellow human, not as the future king and not as a inhuman monstrosity, you treated him just like any other kid. Even with his dark magical abilities. You were so nice to him, complimenting his abilities when he showed them to you and you even hugged him! (Maybe this was because your mother made sure you were rewarded for being nice and punished privately if you being mean to Shiggy). Shiggy fell for you hard even as a child, he wanted to spend all of his time with you, playing, hugging and reading together… that was until King!AFO decided that Shiggy’s playmate was going to make Shiggy soft so you stopped visiting him.

He was sad… he has no one else but you and now you were gone too?! He threw tantrums at first, he threatened the poor staff, he even tried to run away to find your house in the kingdom but no avail. King!AFO saw this change in attitude a problem to be solved and started whispering in Shiggy’s ear about how King!AFO would never force you to leave Shiggy… maybe you left because of his looks? Because of his dangerous dark magic? I mean really… children can be so fickle…

Prince!Shiggy eventually accepted you leaving out of disgust for him as truth. His hatred and mistrust of the world grew with age. His dark magic grew in power with that hate. At 14, he decided to leave his large and expansive royal bedroom to permanently live in the dark and grimy conditions of the castle’s dungeon. He loved having a first row seat of what happens to those who question or disobey King!AFO. He eventually became the sadistic monster that people saw him as a child. A self-fulfilling prophecy. The Dungeon’s Monster, is what people called him.

Awhile you were growing up in a fairly normal life, after King!AFO decided you weren’t going to see Shiggy anymore, he paid off your mother to work somewhere else in the kingdom. Your mother became the head maid of a noble family, while you were stuck… probably going to end up the same as your mother, working for someone rich. You didn’t want such a life for yourself… you wanted more. You got as much education as you could but you still looked like an uneducated peasant to the nobles of the kingdom. That feeling, of being looked down upon, you hated the most. So was it really such a surprise when you decided to join an anti-bourgeoisie group? In the group, you were in charge of spreading the word of your cause with flyers and posters you hung up in the dead of night. Unfortunately for you, someone turned you in. You were given a brief kangaroo trial where the supposed witness saw you in the pitch black and described you as a 6’7 muscular man with long blonde hair and facial tattoos at first then changed their story after seeing you in court. You and your mother cried in court and begged for mercy but you received none. You were sentenced to life in the dungeons.

You only heard horror stories about King!AFO’s dungeons… a man-like beast that stalked the halls and carried out the most brutal of tortures. That the beast loved to kill for King!AFO and not even the guards were safe from him… You would shiver hearing the stories but what now? You were truly going to come face-to-face with the beast? You only hoped it was nothing more than a fairytale to scare peasants like you into obeying King!AFO’s every command.

“Can’t wait to see what this pretty face looks like after he’s done with it.” A guard that was dragging you by your arms snorted. You held your composure as best as you could. Men like this craved reactions from others, good or bad. Disgusting little vermin, thats what your thought about them. They were rough when chaining you to the dungeon wall. No doubt you would have deep red and purple marks on your wrists by the morning. You put on a brave face when the guards left, leaving nothing but darkness with the tiniest lit candle.

“Oh? What’s this?… A new disobedient dog that needs training?” A hissing voice came from the shadows of the dungeon halls. A hunching figure emerged from the darkness, the figure was cloaked in a large black robe making the figure look larger and more intimidating.

You instinctively tried moving your chained arms but all they did was make the chains rattle loudly. You could finally see some of the cloaked figure’s face, the more the rattling you caused the more crazed his grin got. His red beady eyes seemed to glow in the dark. The monster is real… at this moment you felt yourself regretting every decision you’ve made. Fuck the anti-bourgeoisie movement! Being a maid for life is ok with you!! Fuck them for making you stupidly hope for a better future! The creature of horror came closer to the tiny candle and you could see more of his appearance.

“And a pretty disobedient doggy at that.” His chapped lips opened to a creaky grin that almost reached up to his ears, showing his stained and twisted teeth. He could only be 15 feet away now… you still tried to hold a brave face while trying to hold your quivering legs steady. You glanced around, maybe if you didn’t look at him, he would go away? Now you were thinking like a child… When a shimmer of sliver caught your eyes, a large silver bucket was just a few feet away from you, probably was supposed to be used as a toilet. Before you could think of doing something with it against him, the man was in front of you in an instant.

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

@thehoneybeet tagged me to say what my various drarries do to celebrate Christmas/the holidays (tysm I rlly wanted to be tagged 🥹). Read their version here.

Queen of the Weeds - Harry loves to cook and bake and he’s trying to teach Draco to cook, so he probably comes up with some kind of cooking challenge where they have to make something different every day in December. Draco hears a snippet of the Nutcracker over the tannoy in some shop or other, and he is immediately Enchanted. Harry finds a local performance of the ballet to take him to and gives him a recording of the music for Christmas. And obviously they’re furiously recording mixtapes.

If the Fates Allow - I see them hosting! Harry sews them both a new outfit for the occasion, and they invite everyone they can think of. It’s So Loud even before Teddy starts pulling crackers with Victoire. Everybody gets tipsy and they sing wizarding carols together ans half the guests stay over because they’re having such a good time that they stay too late to travel home that night.

A Forgivable Fascination - Way too busy with their research (inventing new forms of magic and doing weird sex about it) to host. They go to Ron and Hermione’s Christmas party and 🫣 they leave early. They have a codeword between them that means they’re leaving to bone, and it’s transparently obvious to all their friends that they’re doing so.

Imperio - They go on like a skiing vacation and have boozy hot chocolate and noisy sex in some chalet.

The Tune Without the Words - If they haven’t gotten back together yet, Harry keeps startling and changing into a dove when Draco accidentally on purpose keeps coming to the same Christmas parties as him.

A Bottomless Well - They’re like stupid ridiculous rich because of Draco’s invention, so they give annoyingly extravagant presents to their friends’ kids AND they get the kids all overexcited by romping with them too hard.

A Gift of True Esteem - Since they’re both Hogwarts professors, they have 2 weeks off, so for the first week, they usually go stay at the Palace of Beauxbatons and go to Madame Maxime’s Christmas party and get drunk with Hagrid and dance like fools. For the second week, they hole up back at Hogwarts for the coziest activities they can think of and probably invite Ash Greengrass to visit (and he’s soooooo smug about them getting married too). Harry also really likes ghost stories for Christmas, so he combs the library for them, and they take turns reading them aloud for each other. At some point, they visit Ron and Hermione, because Harry is doing his best not to be a stranger. They give lavish gifts to Rosie, Hugo, and young Miss Fredericka Faline Weasley.

The Joy of Bleeding - Draco feels Some Type of Way about the holidays after losing his mom. They go to the Burrow and they spend time with Andromeda and Teddy. It’s hard for them, both being orphans. They keep things low key and try to be gentle with themselves and each other.

Homing - Draco’s family doesn’t speak to him anymore, so Harry likes to do the traditions Draco misses from his childhood. They go ice skating on Christmas morning. They sing the songs Draco remembers from his childhood. Harry bravely attempts peacock pie one year. They do have a new tradition of spending Christmas Eve at Fetê.

Names For a House - They like to make a big fuss over Theodore when he comes home from Hogwarts. They plan lots of activities to do together, and they try to make sure that Theo sees lots of Victoire, since she’s at Beauxbatons and they don’t get to spend much time together during the school year. Sometimes the full moon is close to Christmas, and Draco and Theo have to take it easy. Usually when that happens, everyone gets into the same bed (including Shadowfax) and they watch movies together all day. Often a Star Wars marathon bc they all love the original trilogy.

Propinquity - They always have a big party at the Grotto! Pansy sort of took over the planning while they were in Paris, so they barely even have to lift a finger anymore. Their house is simply filled with people. All they have to do is hide the honeymoon box and make sure nobody else makes the same mistake Harry made. Sometimes Draco will play the piano (mostly Britney Spears tbh).

Moonrise - After they leave Grimmauld Place, they don’t host so much because the cottage is too small for any group much larger than the classic gang. But they’ll get everyone to come down to the Three Broomsticks, and there’s always some lovely live entertainment around the holidays. Draco exchanges Christmas cards with his friends from the Citizens Committee for the Ethical Treatment of Lycanthropes. They usually wind up at the Burrow for the day of. Harry helps Molly cook the meal, and Draco sneaks off the get high with Ginny and Fleur. Toad gets underfoot and helpfully licks up any scraps that fall on the floor. If it’s not too cold for the little ones, they go caroling in the village.

ahhhh that was fun! Genuinely do not remember who has already gone and who hasn’t. I’ll tag @drarry (it’ll be Yule tho, right?) and @saintgarbanzo and @skeptiquewrites and @moonmanatee and whoever else wants to play!!